Although not much of a picky eater growing up, I hated when foods touched on my plate. I only classified a few combinations as “acceptable”: butter and mashed potatoes, maple syrup and pancakes, chocolate sauce and ice cream. But I nearly threw a tantrum if… Read more →
As a self-conscious teenager, I spent many sunny afternoons strolling around the mall with my friends. I feigned interest in the tiny tops and tight jeans in their favorite trendy boutiques, but I always preferred the bath and body shops. There weren’t any “popular” scents of bubble bath or perfumed candles that I had to remember there! Read more →
In 8th grade, the cool kids’ parents dropped them off at Jamba Juice before school on Wednesday mornings. With classes starting an hour later, it gave the hungry students just enough time to grab a drink and walk the quarter mile to campus. Read more →
A few minutes into my Saturday morning run, my mind wandered off. After thinking “My calf is too tight” and “YIKES that’s a BEE!”, it settled down and began brainstorming what to eat after my post-workout shower.
Just two steps later, cinnamon rolls flashed through my brain. I shook my head, arguing with my mind to find a healthier solution—like a banana. Or oatmeal. Or—dare I even say it?—scrambled eggs.
After a full mile of mental debate, I finally concluded two things: (1) I was crazy and (2) my brain had convinced itself that it needed cinnamon rolls.
So I promised my brain that it could have cinnamon rolls… As long as it omitted the frosting on top. It whined, but we shook on it anyway. We had a deal! Read more →
Quick reminder: the homemade cookie giveaway ends this Friday! Post a comment on my new URL to enter!
I tried mixing up a batch of just-like-Mom’s blueberry pancakes last week. After burning the first plate and chucking it in the trash, I realized I really should have paid closer attention to Mom’s cooking in the kitchen as a 5-year-old instead of banging on pots and pans with a wooden spoon…
But I was just too picky of an eater! The moment that Mom flipped my plain pancakes onto my plate, I’d smother them in syrup and happily munch away, completely ignoring Mom as she stirred fresh blueberries into the remaining batter. (I hated things mixed into my pancakes. No fruit, no nuts, no oats… Well, I might’ve been okay with chocolate chips or sprinkles.) Read more →
Today is our lucky day! Andrea from Mrs. Webb in the Kitchen is going to teach us how to make special truffle stuffed strawberries. Just in time for Valentine’s Day!
Andrea and I met in high school and bonded over cold nights marching around the football field for band and giggling our way through nasally accents in French class. Although we lost touch for a few years after graduation, I found out last fall that she now works in a bakery—my dream job! She has picked up lots of tricks and tips, especially in the cake decorating world, and I begged her to share some with us.
In exchange, I wrote a guest post for her with a recipe for heart-shaped french toast for two. Be sure to check it out after reading her truffle tutorial, as well as her dainty French macarons and moist gingerbread cake with molasses frosting!
I’ll be the first to admit that I am a sucker for Valentine’s Day. Even before I had a sweetheart of my own, I adored a day dedicated to pink hearts, pretty flowers, and candy. In my elementary school years, I couldn’t wait to hand out silly and sweet paper valentines to my classmates- each of the pre-printed sentiments carefully sorted into classmate, crush, or friend-worthy categories!
This year, in lieu of passing out stale old conversation hearts, I thought I’d try my hand at some hand-crafted truffles. These strawberry truffles, however, are a fusion of two of the most classic heart day treats: truffles and chocolate covered strawberries! My original plan was to add a berry-flavored extract to ganache to make a traditional truffle interior. Instead, I decided to stuff the ganache inside a real, live strawberry. Read more →
When I mentioned to my guy that I had never attempted to make a cobbler, he replied, “Oh, it’s really easy!” Pause, rewind… WHAT? My man, who avoids baking like the bubonic plague, has made cobbler before me??
After I nearly went into anaphylactic shock, he finally explained that he baked cobblers in Boy Scouts. They emptied canned peaches into a Dutch oven, dumped a boxed biscuit mix on top, and heated in over the fire until their stomachs growled and the fruit juices bubbled.
Well then. Read more →