Are you slipping comfortably into fall? Sliding into the harvest? It fits me, like the warm sweater I’m wearing right now, on the first 50-degree day of the season. Like my favorite pair of cozy slippers. Like a perfect run in cool, crisp air, the wind at my back, my mile pace transformed. Like melty grilled cheese and tomato soup.
But not just any grilled cheese. Cheddar apple grilled cheese.
You’ve probably noticed a slow, steady decline in posts here at the ImaginariYUM over the past several weeks. Well, I might as well make it blog official: I’ve gone back to work full time. I’m once again a grown-up. Trust me, I lament the loss of my cat-desk much more than you could imagine, but I’ve gone to a good place, with great people, who, unfortunately, refuse to let me acquire a cat-desk for the office. I told them I’d be okay with a dog-desk, too, but they failed to see the use in that.
What this means is that, satiated though I am intellectually, my creative juices — no, my energy — is sapped by the time I get home. I’ve baked only one dessert since I started, which, honestly, brings tears to my eyes. Readjusting to normal adult life — with the inclusion of at least three intense after-work running sessions per week with my teammates — means that I am in survival mode. Wake, commute, work, commute, run, cook dinner, eat at 10pm, sleep. Repeat. And it’s only going to get worse when marathon training begins in less than two months. But at least I’ll be hungry.
As you can see, I’m still trying to create one new delicious dish to share with you each week, but I’m maybe drowning a bit, as seven days turns into nine, then to fourteen, and I know my posts often get hidden by the powers that be on Facebook, where the vast number of my wonderful following reside. (Which is why I will urge you to subscribe! See the top of the right column anywhere on the blog.)
I got a bit of a kick in the pants last Wednesday night when, in between 400-meter repeats on the track, my friend and teammate Caryn begged me not to stop. “I won’t,” I promised. “Don’t!” she said, just before we lined up, still breathless from the last lap, and we took off. And I won’t. I promise. I’ve been overwhelmed by the support I’ve gotten from some of you, your exclamations over some of my recipes. I always wanted my beauties to be my little secrets, but the truth is it’s kind of amazing to see my cookies on other people’s Instagram feeds. If I can’t share physical bites with the world, I sure as hell can show you how to make your own. Continue reading →
I’ve been feeling pretty under the weather the past few days. Could be from the subzero wind chills. Could be from running in the cold (but not in the subzero wind chills — come on, I’m not that crazy). Could be from too many super fudgy brownies and homemade In-N-Out burgers and fries. But from forehead to belly, I’m beat. I want to throw in the towel. I just want to curl up and knit while I watch a day’s worth of Daria. And detox, in my own way, by starting off the day with yogurt and tea. Continue reading →
I might be the only person in New York City who likes winter. And not just light snowfalls, pristine white flakes floating down onto quiet sidewalks, silhouetted against lamplight and curtainless windows. Not just chilly temperatures, asking for sweaters and scarves and woolen coats and boots. No, I like extended frozen landscapes. Last winter? The polar vortex? The frozen Hudson? I loved it. I may have been the only person who didn’t complain when it felt like spring would never come — well, until it did, for a day, and then got cold again. Then I was ready. Because cold winters mean glorious springs, and it was. I may shiver and it may take courage to go out for a training run when it gets below 20 degrees, but this week’s sub-zero wind chills just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside — because when it gets like this, I fill my insides with warm bread and hot soup. But not just any hot soup — Moroccan chickpea soup.
This beautiful concoction melds the flavors of cinnamon and cumin, paprika and cayenne, to build a slightly sweet, slightly spicy base from which the chickpeas can make their case for a hearty alternative to meat. Baby spinach adds vitamins, a pop of color, and a hint of bitterness, which compliments the handful of slightly acidic tomatoes here wonderfully, and I’ve added diced carrots for an additional boost of mellow sweetness (and something else to chew on). Some of the chickpeas are mashed at the end, so that the soup isn’t just chunky, it’s thick, too. Continue reading →
Happy New Year, everyone. 2014 is now a relic of the past. Like many of you, mine was filled with ups and downs — and this year, they weren’t simply little hiccups and little boosts here and there. 2014 was momentous, it was disastrous, it was marvelous. I left my life at an organization to which I dedicated seven years of my heart and soul, bled passion and tears and hope and frustration. Left what had become an unkind regime. Rekindled my passion for my own work, my own writing. Found you, the ImaginariYUM, and found myself.
And now it’s 2015, and things are gonna change. A little. My big New Year’s Resolution is simple, but will hopefully be profound: I resolve to use up all the leftover vegetables I buy before they turn to mush, grow mold, or grow eyes. And to start, I’m using up (almost) all the leftover potatoes from my two crazy days of latke-making a couple of weeks ago by turning them into velvety potato leek soup. And as a side? I’ve taken some of the leftover buttermilk from last week’s perfect cinnamon rolls and turned them into the easiest buttermilk biscuits. It’s cold, I’m hungry and still tired from being up way too late last night, and I’m damn glad there’s something good, healthy, and hearty to eat for the start of the new year.
