Carrie Saum

So, what do you do when you make something that looks a mess but tastes like the Virgin Mary give birth in your mouth? You add more sugar and salt to hide its minor imperfections and nobody gives a damn how it looks after the first bite.

Thin Mints are my favorite. They’ve ALWAYS been my favorite. I would hide a sleeve in our freezer as a kid, and wait for my brothers to leave the house so I could eat them in peace. As an adult, not much has changed. I look forward to that time of year when Girl Scout cookies make winter doldrums bright again.

When I tasted creamy jalapeño dip for the first time, I had to figure out immediately what was in it and how to make it. I was instantly addicted to the herby-creamy-spicy hit with just the faintest vinegary undertone. And by addicted, I mean that I wanted to drink it through a straw.

I’m writing this, and I don’t even fully know how to tell you to slow down during your busy life because the truth is, I’m learning how to do this myself.

No real measuring, no special ingredients, and it makes cookies that even the snobbiest cookie connoisseur will crave? It might seem too good to be true, but it's absolutely real.

Insisting on capability robs us of vulnerability. It robs us of the village we so desperately need. It creates resentment and mistrust. And most of all, it sets us up to fail.

Virtually no research exists for FPIES. Food Allergy Awareness month remind me that even though he is resilient, he is still vulnerable.

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

In the spirit of melted chocolate and simple, decadent expressions of love, I made a little treat for my friends.

Heating up a kitchen while you are doing your level best to not become human molten lava is always the goal during summer, no matter where you live. I prefer batch cooking if I can make that happen, and never, under any circumstances, do I turn on my oven. Unless I'm baking a birthday cake or maybe some hand pies.