Carrie Saum

This is a recipe for pastry. It's ugly. It will make your kitchen hot in a summer's day. Hotter than the surface of West Texas. Hotter than Jesse Williams scorching the BET Awards with universal truth that we all need to heed and hear. It won't win an award or any baking competitions. But it will win your mouth's undying gratitude.

In the spirit of fall, I'm sharing this with you. You need it. I need it. We all need it to make it through the final days of fading sunshine and early days of falling leaves. Or something.

We all have that One Friend. They found a product that they love and just can’t get enough of it. Whatever your problem is, their MLM has a fix for it.

I grew up in West Texas. When I was a small child, we left the lush, rainy beauty of the Pacific Northwest it made her way down to the dust bowl and flatlands of West Texas. It was traumatic, to say the least.

Asparagus. It's a definite love-it-or-hate-it kind of vegetable. In general, I'm a veggie lover, but I'm a super asparagus fan. There is no way that I WON'T eat it.

Party City’s food allergies ad wasn’t an innocent lapse in judgment or poor agency vetting. It was a revelation of their core values.

I have a quote on the home screen of my phone that I put up a year ago.

Can we talk about self-care for a hot minute?

I kind of hate it.

Next, juice your blood oranges. Or skip this and buy the juice from the spendy little corner market that sells $8 fair trade chocolate made from cocoa beans harvested purely through meditative thoughts generated by unionized zen monkeys in Thailand. They also sell blood orange juice. You’ll find it next to the $15 cashew milk.