It does, however, contain a member of the poultry family, a tomato stuffed with yummy things, and a [green] vegetable. Passes my test!
Let’s be real here, shall we? Life is crazy. In fact, sometimes it’s downright ridiculous. I’d be willing to bet I’m not the only one who’s run out the door to catch her train to work and, upon dashing through the closing doors of the subway, realized that she left her apartment with one earring and forgotten her yoga clothes. Aaah, crap.
Hello, friends! I hope your Mondays were as bearable as possible. My schedule has been a bit thrown off for the past few days because I’ve been house-sitting for my parents and, at the same time, hanging out with my youngest sister (Baby Chip–remember her? ). There was a lot–and I mean a lot–of cooking and baking that went on in our house during our time together (including the brownies you see above, which I whipped up for my sister’s friend’s 16th birthday).
What can I say? When I’m bored, I bake. When people are hungry, I bake. And oftentimes, even when people aren’t hungry and we really have somewhere else to be, I bake.
Let’s face it: the Irish aren’t exactly know for their cooking abilities. When there is no meat temperature other than well done and the starch part of your meal often consists of a dark stout, it’s likely that you’ll be passed over when it comes to gourmet food tours. (Disclaimer: Stereotypes! )
Maybe so. But when my mom and my aunt talk about Sunday night dinners growing up, they always, always reminisce about the boxty my grandma (affectionately known as “Mom-Mom” by her gaggle of grandchildren) would make them. (“Boxty” is the Irish term for potato pancakes–like latkes, for my Jewish brothers and sisters out there.) My mom loved them hot off the skillet, while my aunt preferred them cold the next morning for breakfast (with granulated sugar sprinkled on top).