Carrie Saum

Babes, I am ready to be done with all of the treats. I love the treats. Who doesn’t love waking up and eating cookies for breakfast? I know I do.

In celebration of the first juicy strawberries of the season, I make a special treat. These chocolate covered strawberries are anything but ordinary.

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.

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.

The great thing is you can use basically any regular substitutions and this will still taste amazing. I literally eat this with a spoon, and because it’s egg-free, I feel no shame. Okay, I don’t feel any shame when I bust into a tub of regular cookie dough, either. I’m just trying to do my fair share to keep you from getting salmonella.

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.

The amount of mental/emotional/invisible labor that we carry out every day, in addition to kids and regular work, takes a toll. It's okay to be exhausted.

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.

I cracked the sugar crust, took a bite, and then I actually DID cry. Huge, crocodile tears because it was good and this food tasted the way the city felt. It was home.