The other day at work, as I scooped butter pecan ice cream into a stale wafer cone for a chatty middle aged woman with long, green, beach glass earrings dangling from her buttery-soft earlobes, she suddenly asked me how I felt about living on Long Island.Read More
I went to Peru, and all I came back with was pizza (for now). But I can explain.
There is something incredibly comforting about an overflowing, dirty dish-stacked sink. Sometimes I wonder if I subconsciously go out of my way to use every utensil in my kitchen when baking or cooking just so I can find some comfort in the controlled chaos developing in the depths of my stainless steal wash basin.Read More