




I have a wee terrarium.
Get yours from Miss Mossy.
According to the interwebs the combination of strawberries and baking soda is a great natural teeth whitener. The boy made this discovery and promptly went out and bought a huge plastic box of wintery California strawberries. After one miracle application (no, I don't have photos of that one and, yes, it was a grand success, he claimed through his pearly whites) the box was pushed to the back of the refrigerator. After several days, I pulled those hard little nubs out and made this tasty bit of spring sweetness.They were no spring beauties, but baked into this bread, it's hard to complain.

I'm missing Gourmet magazine. I'm sorry Conde Nast, but Bon Appetit just isn't doing it for me the way Gourmet did. Not that I don't have a zillion recipes clipped from past issues still waiting to be tried, mind you. And let's not even get into the fact that despite subscribing to two food magazines and having a shelf full of cookbooks, nine times out of ten I turn to the internet first to find a recipe.
Good news: Fine Cooking has a fine web site!
Peanut Sauce
How much easier do you want it?! I didn't adjust the seasoning at all — perfectly peanuty with just a little spice. I used Sriracha for the spice and had a block of tamarind lurking in the vegetable drawer. The consistency was slightly runnier than I expected and I might reduce the water to 1/4 cup next time, though it does thicken as it sits. It would be great on just about anything: beef or chicken, fresh veggies, warm or cold noodles, summer rolls. The boy wants to start putting it on all his sandwiches! We had it last night with chicken skewers using the marinade below.
Have I also told you about how much I love the Ann Arbor library system? You can read my rant on the subject here. I recently visited the Pittsfield branch and it is stunning. The building opened in 2006 and is a great example of sustainable design.
Below is a look at the cozy reading room looking out over the marshes with gorgeous modern armchairs and a working fireplace. Magical!
Two of my favorites books from the past year are This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader by Joan Dye Gussow and Alice Waters and Chez Panisse by Thomas McNamee. They are both fascinating portraits of strong personalities and their relationship to food as well as the people around them — and they both have wonderful recipes woven throughout. I'm also a sucker for great Indian sagas like Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts or The Far Pavilions by M.M Kaye. This year, in a similar tradition, I loved The Toss of a Lemon by Padma Viswanathan.
I went a little wild buying bulbs. Remembering how happy it made me come spring time last year, I scooped up dozens — maybe even tens of dozens — of bulbs to plant. Crocuses, tulips, daffodils, scilla — and some more unusual-looking Fritillaria. After two lengthy planting sessions late in the fall, my eagerness waivered. The brown paper bag with the unplanted bulbs has been looming on a shelf outside our front door for months. They didn't sit quietly. My guilt got me to thinking last week during a warm spell that maybe I should just try to pry open a big hole up in the semi-frozen ground and throw them all in, see what happens. Then I had a better idea. Why not let them do their thing now? They're not your traditional paperwhites or amaryllis, but a few crocuses in the house would certainly be welcome!
As part of my goal to branch out beyond the interwebs in 2010, I'm happy to announce that my artwork will soon be available in Chicago at the Renegade Handmade store in Wicker Park and through their online store. Created as an extension of the Renegade Craft Fair, the store is a unique one-stop shop for DIY goods with an amazing selection of housewares, jewelry, posters + prints, plush items, clothing, stationery + more!
And for my Montana peeps, you can check out some of my goodies in person at Frayed Sew (isn't that the cutest name ever?!) in Helena. Frayed Sew is owned by Becky Schreiner and is devoted to handcrafted items including childrens' and adult clothing, jewelry and accessories. Come on down!
Around this time last year I was coming off a bout of knitting madness. I had knitted something for just about everyone in my family for Christmas and after the holidays started in on a project for myself: a lovely, leaf-patterned scarf. I shared a peek at it with you here. This was to be no ordinary scarf. This was a 6 1/2 foot long, lusciously thick, incredibly soft, alpaca and wool scarf. Yes, that's right. 78 inches of wooly wonder. It knit up quickly on size 15 needles and I worked on it here and there. But then there was that first glimmer of warmth in the air. I stopped cold. I don't knit in spring. That's all there is to it. I lose all desire. So I packed away the scarf and moved on to spring.


Isn't it lovely? (The pattern is from the Vogue Knitting: Accessorize book available at the Ann Arbor library.)
I can never get enough of the sweet smell of warm yeasty bread. I used to have a friend on Elizabeth Street in New York and whenever I went to her place I would walk a certain route because one block always smelled strongly of yeast and bread baking. It was incredibly sweet and overpowering and never failed to make me swoon with happiness and warmth. I never found the source, but it didn't matter. I just loved to breath deeply while walking down the street filled with yeasty goodness.
Now, here in Michigan, winter is in full swing and I think about that smell often and try to recreate its yeasty goodness. Of course, this recipe, which my mom used to make for us as kids, smells a bit more dill-y than yeast-y, but it's scrumptious nonetheless.
Illustration from Florina and the Wild Bird
Nancy and the Rubber Plant, 1975
Seated Nude, 1966
Page details from Alice in Wonderland
The Mirror, 1966
From The New Yorker, 1942
New color version of my Sub(tract) Housing print available in the shop! This one's called Downsizing to distinguish the two. (Click image above to see a larger version.)
I know it's well past the season of holiday parties and overindulgence, but this recipe is just too good to keep to myself. So don't just sit around moping with the winter blues. Have a potluck! Invite some friends! Eat some apps! Do not make this on your own! That's right. You've been warned. You should have several friends on hand for this one. If not, you are guaranteed to eat too much of it. You won't be able to help yourself. You'll feel sick later. Very sick. Believe me.
My Christmas trip this year was no different. We left on a Sunday and that Saturday I was in the midst of wrapping, packing and organizing. I was feeling very festive and ambitious. So, of course, why not tackle just one more project? The mission: to recover the throw pillows for our couch.
I've had three quilted squares (squares that are ready for quilting at least) waiting for this moment for years. I took an improvisational quilting class with Denyse Schmidt quite a long time ago at the Make workshop in New York. Quite a long time ago. So long ago that I've made two major moves since. I was reminded of the unfinished squares when I saw the sneak peak inside Denyse's beautiful Connecticut home in the Dec/Jan issue of Readymade. It includes an easy how-to for these pillows. So on that Saturday, I was determined to get this thing done. And somehow… I did. There's something to be said for the energy and excitement before vacation. A true indicator that we should go on more trips.