It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Cookie baking time! And well, Christmas time, but cookies and Christmas have always sort of gone hand in hand for me.
One of my favorite blogger events of the year is the NYC Cookie Swap, which has been held for the past two years at Hill Country NY. The spread this past Sunday was–if possible–even more incredible this year, and I loved hanging out with the fabulous crowd of attendees.
Two days till Thanksgiving. Two. Days! I can smell the stuffing now, people. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I could happily make my meal on this carbiest of side dishes alone…even the turkey seems gratuitous sometimes.
In spite of my preoccupation with the entree, though, I always make sure to leave room for dessert. And just in case you’re still scrambling for something sweet to counteract the tryptophan, I’m sharing these bangarang (technical term) brownies with you.
Today is an exciting day! Know why? A group of lovely food bloggers (spearheaded by the fabulous Brandy and Brandi) have joined together to celebrate Rachel, of Rachel Cooks! She’s expecting her baby boy in just a few weeks, and since we can’t all just show up at her house in person with treats, we’re throwing her a shower Internet-style.
I know you’re all sick to death of me talking about the weather, but as I type this, the snow is still dripping from the boots I kicked off as soon as I walked in the door of my apartment. It was, for all intents and purposes, blizzarding sideways as I trudged home from class tonight. Can someone please explain to me what bizarre weather continuum I’ve entered?
Anyway. I’ve got a treat for you today! (Literally and figuratively.) This guest poster is someone you’ve encountered on this blog before, in stories I’ve told you about my baking and eating adventures. My lovely sister, Middle Chip (aka Megan), is quite a baker herself and (after a little bit of encouragement) agreed to share one of her latest creations with my lovely readers. Thanks, Meg!
Well, hi there. How are you doing? It’s been two days since Hurricane Sandy blew out of the tristate, but the New York metro area is definitely still feeling its effects. I was one of the very, very lucky ones who did not lose power throughout the storm, but my hometown is completely in the dark with multiple trees fallen on every street. I’ve been able to keep in touch with my family periodically, and my parents have a small generator they’ve been using to run the fridge, but things are definitely messy.
With that said, it’s nothing compared to what residents of parts of Long Island, the Jersey shore and Breezy Point are dealing with at the moment. Please keep the millions affected in your thoughts and prayers–rebuilding is happening, and we’re a resilient bunch, but this storm touched so many.
Have there ever been more magical words than “set it and forget it”? (Well, maybe the first person who said, “Let’s put chocolate and peanut butter together.” But we’re talking savory today! Sorry, I digress.)
This Slow Cooker Chicken Chili has been warming my kitchen and my tummy lately. It’s a filling, no-stress meal that’s perfect for a big group or as a make-ahead-and-reheat meal. I’m guest posting over at The Keenan Cookbook today while Chris and Rachel welcome their new baby boy, so head over there for the recipe! (And don’t forget to tell them hi from me. )
I am an umbrella assassin.
There’s just no other term for it. No matter how many umbrellas I buy, no matter how cheap or expensive they are, they never last more than a few months. Inevitably the fabric starts to separate from the spokes (…I’ve decided the metal parts are called spokes), the open/close mechanism refuses to open/close, and the entire thing just snaps inside-out at the slightest gust of wind.
One morning a few weeks ago, my umbrella broke literally five feet from my apartment door. I was forced to make the rest of my commute holding the mangled fabric of the umbrella corpse over my head, struggling for some semblance of shield from the increasing downpour. Not only did that attempt fail, but the runoff from my dying umbrella streamed right down the sleeve of my coat in the process.