Recipes

ENTREES

Instant Pot Creamy Chicken & Mushroom Tetrazzini

I would like to officially announce that I shall be commencing my residency as "That Blogger Chick Who Won't Shut Up About Her Instant Pot." I can't help it; it makes me feel like a GENIUS.

Enter the dish I fully went ahead and improvised the other night, because I happened to have chicken thighs and mushrooms in the refrigerator, because everybody likes cream, and because my son requires pasta to be present in 100% of his meals. Presto: Creamy Chicken & Mushroom Tetrazzini. (I'm not sure this is technically tetrazzini, but whatever: My recipe, my rules.)

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An Instant Pot Trial By Fire

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I have been dying for an Instant Pot. But only because everyone on the Internets told me I should be dying for an Instant Pot; I didn't even know what these things do, exactly. Aren't they just...crockpots? ...Sort of?

Apparently Instant Pots cook meals in a fraction of the time you'd expect...but, as I completely do not understand the science behind pressure-cooking, it is very hard for me to believe that a meal that should ordinarily take eight hours to cook can take half an hour. That's some magic shit right there.

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It’s A Very Ramshackle Thanksgiving

On Thanksgiving weekend, I shall be moving. I shall not, therefore, be hosting anything other than the dust bunnies that have apparently been living underneath my couch all this time.

I will, however, be making - and eating beaucoup quantities of - turkey, because my friend Margo and I have decided to do Thanksgiving together (at her place, obviously). Kendrick and the kids are coming, and I'm so excited - I just want a day of eating and football games playing in the background and skateboarding in the driveway and family.

It will be a very Ramshackle Thanksgiving. And I mean that in the best possible way. Cheers to breaking the rules, making it work, and finding joy in the moment.

DIARY

Still There

I've had many summers that felt like little jewelboxes of time, sweet and slow - the one we spent living in temporary housing while we waited for our daughter to be born comes to mind - but there was one that was wonderful in a completely different way than all the others.

It was the summer after Kendrick and I moved from our tiny Hell's Kitchen place to our slightly-less-tiny Upper East Side apartment. The summer that I quit my office job, and started writing for a living (well, that was the plan, in any case). The summer that we were working out how to be married and wondering how in the world we were going to pay our rent and trying to figure out what we wanted to be when we grew up...but it was so exciting. The sheer possibility of it all. We were children standing on the edge of adulthood, thinking about jumping.

We had a little crew that summer. Stephen and Dave, of course - we had rooftop cocktails with them most nights, Lucy whizzing in circles around us while we watched the setting sun light up all that silver paint. Francesca was living in the city then, just a few blocks away, and a few of Kendrick's other friends from college lived at various points along the 6 line. We'd all go out to terrible bars and drink terrible drinks and stay up far too late, because we were still so young, and it still felt like bad choices were a life imperative.

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The Spooky Black Geode Cake

This cake was, shall we say, a freewheeling design. I had a vague idea of what I wanted to do for my son's annual Halloween-themed birthday party - an all-black cake (inside and out) with bugs somehow involved (because eight-year-old boys, et cetera), and I thought maybe it'd be cool to have the bugs sort of coming out of the cake as if they'd been inside, but when I got to the part where I'd actually do that, I was stumped.

I wanted a crack in the cake of some sort, but didn't want it to look like, you know...a mistake.

And then I remembered the geode cake. It's all over Pinterest these days, and I've been dying to try one, and you know what geodes have?! CRACKS. (Sort of; you know what I mean.)


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