Carrie Saum

If you are like me, you weren't raised to tune into your body, mind, or spirit. Tuning in was something you did to television, or something you made fun of when your weird Aunt Susan told you how to breathe into your third chakra to release your blocked Chi from three lifetimes ago.

Apparently, there's a thing happening in Houston this weekend. A sportsball game of some sort and people are super excited about it.

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.

I knew it was bound to happen.  

We celebrated our six-week date-a-versary on Lance's birthday. All he wanted was to binge-watch Scrubs and cuddle and eat cake in bed. If there was any question that he was my soulmate before that moment, it was laid to rest. We stayed in bed, watched TV, and ate cake. It was pretty magical, if I'm honest.

I have a thing for a certain Asian-inspired restaurant chain. Their food isn’t Michelin-starred, and doesn’t often make it into my regular rotation for eating out because, well, we don’t eat out much, and I like only a few things on their menu.

I've spent the last week in sunny California. I was there for a massive food expo. It was also Spring Break.

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The result was a gorgeous, decadent, crispy-edged-and-soft-in-the-middle caramelized cookie skillet straight from heaven. It filled our entire building with sweet almond and fig baked goodness.

I now interrupt your frantic turkey preparations for the following announcement: 

EAT PIZZA, INSTEAD.