Carrie Saum

Easter is rapidly approaching, which means that we all need to get our collective ish together and figure out how to eat all the chocolate.

Last month, I heard my kid say "I'm sorry" to a complete stranger at Target for no reason.

You feel it. The change.

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.

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.

Oh, you say you’re making this for your neighbor who just had a baby and a traumatic birth experience and you want to be an Exceptional Neighbor and bring her post-partum love and healing in a warm, bubbling cake dish? Fantastic. Just make sure to eat half of the cobbler straight out of the pan first, and then transfer it to another pan and pretend it’s meant to look like a pan of berry mush.

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

We had no turkey, no casserole dishes heaped sweet potatoes or creamy green beans, no pies made from scratch, no beautiful table settings or nice dishes to heap our non-existent feast upon.

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.

Visiting my family in the Sierra Nevada foothills is one of the great pleasures of my life. I get to work, cook, and play while my amazing folks keep an eye on my kid. My inspiration and productivity skyrocket when I'm able to step away from my version of the daily grind and get a little refocused and centered. The food I make tastes a little better, and I move a little easier without a three-year-old constantly in tow.