Carrie Saum

Rosa made a chocolate cake with cinnamon and pecans that still haunts my dreams and my tastebuds, 20 years later. Here, I've tried to recreate it.

Motherhood didn’t pan out the way I anticipated, not even a little bit. It was so much more electrifying and terrifying and amazing than I ever imagined.

Gather anything orange, brown, olive green, harvest yellow, and dead. Dead leaves, dead flowers, dead hopes and dreams, and arrange them artistically on your front doorstep.

When I talked to my doctor about the forgetfulness and resulting anxiety I was experiencing, she suggested that I make lists, try bullet point journaling, and work on taking more time for self-care.

This is the thing about cooking for the internet: It only wants sweet treats. Okay, and cauliflower recipes.

What do you do when you're provided with a bunch of winter squash? You make soup. You make veggie bowls. You make coconut curry butternut squash mash!

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You and I are creatures of habit. And our habit is to be busy. Occupied. Focused on creating and maintaining momentum and a functional life.

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

EAT PIZZA, INSTEAD.

Once upon a time, I went to Greece. Then I went to a tiny island and didn’t tell anyone. And then I ate a lot of amazing Greek food, hung out with the Australian water polo team who had just competed in the Olympics, and drank Heineken all day from a can.