Posts tagged Cooking
The house smells of garlic.

Without a space for projects to occupy my mind after a day at the box staring at a box, I’ve set my sights on the wonder of the kitchen. Although I've dabbled in kitchen foolery before, my heart never sincerely appreciated of the art and chemistry* of preparing a meal. Each Sunday I scour over cookbooks - my mind weighing the value of ingredients based on knowledge of their location at the grocery. Logistics matter, you see.

Recipes, like music, are intertwined in the fiber of our genetic makeup. To me, lasagna screams of celebration, while meatloaf reminds me the toddler version of my now big-little brother.


We, two humans + a dog begging for scraps, gather around the table with our phones facing the hardwood. (Eventually, they’ll be banned. Probably.) Dinnertime is becoming the daily inquisition. It’s for bragging rights, celebrations and ‘did you sees’. It’s to listen, to share, to be.


We may never make it five consecutive meals at the dinner table again, and that's okay; however, I cross my heart and kiss my elbow that we'll make it to the table at least once a week. Even if it's for cereal.

The food is the medium, a necessary guest. Conversations and memories by way of pot-roast, if you dare.

This week on the table: Barbecue Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, Broccoli Chicken Tacos, Pdub’s salsa Breakfast sandwiches: bacon, eggs & cheese. Pot Roast Lasagna

*I made perfect scores in Chem Lab. Thought you should know. You're welcome.  

Seconds, please.

There is something curious about a kitchen. It’s full of possibilities and intensely terrifying. The idea of a kitchen is a spectator sport: it’s fun to watch from the sidelines and I’m always cheering for the home team. My friend, Ree, sent me an early edition of her newest cookbook (which is delightful, by they way) that has served as some serious motivation to get in the kitchen. If she, and urbanite by birth, can conquer Osage I can conquer an urban jungle. I have zero excuses, you see. Grocery stores are popping up like Eastern Red Cedars.

With a plethora of kitchen additions and lasagna dish that has attempted delivery to the Haney house three times before arriving in one piece, it seemed only fitting it would be the first dish of twenty14.


If you're looking for a recipe, you're not going to find it here. Think of this as a review of a recipe. [Pioneer Woman's Best Lasagna]


This was simple, guys. I left work at 5:30, made this delicious masterpiece, and was warming up at the gym by 7:15. It was, however, messy. Honestly, that could have just been on me.


T, who is encouraging of my kitchen experiments, is impressively honest. Last night, he asked for seconds. I wish I could take credit, but Ree just makes it so easy. A picture book for cooking? Clearly.

Note: Although Ree did send me a cookbook, she never asked me to write this post. This recipe wasn't even in the most recent cookbook. Also, the online recipe and the recipe in her 2nd book (maybe it was the first) is slightly different. This is from the good old internet

Dreaming in Orange.

Can you keep a secret? The grocery store is terrifying. Every time I enter the nearest grocery store, my intentions are pure. Thoughts of quality meals and full stomachs fill my thoughts much like the fairies in fill Fern Gully dancing and fluttering to the music of the last rain forest. That was a little much, right? It was my favorite movie as a child. And the scene where Batty runs into the trees saying "red light... red light again," is exactly what goes through my head when I start to enter an aisle then realize it's the wrong one.

The aisles - they're so daunting.

I leave with the same cart full of products every time: turkey, bread, popsicles, orange juice, cereal, apples, oranges, tomatoes, pizza lunchable (1), and and a few boxes of whatever-type-of-Amys sounds delightful. That's all I need.

Honestly, I could almost promise you I'd step up my cooking game if someone else went to the store for me. It can't be that difficult. You know, now that pinterest is around.

If I had this tangerine KitchenAid stand mixer I would make all kinds of goodies. Who am I kidding? I'd make a year's supply of mashed potatoes and homemade ice cream. If that wasn't enough, it would be give me instant street cred just for occupying a spot on the counter.

Dream big.

Happy Orange Friday!

*In other news my roommate is an amazing cook... this is why I don't starve. The end.