our stable table

Cloud eggs are something entirely different. I was worried that these magical looking eggs would just turn to soppy, scary oven nightmares. But these are actually Alton Brown worthy alchemy breakfast wins.

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.

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.

Every year, I recreate my favorite street vendor’s glüwine (pronounced glue-vine), and remember that crazy freedom. I’m instantly transported back to those snowy cobblestone streets, freezing hands and feet, warm belly, and everything tinged with magic even while being naively idiotic.

But seriously, Babywatchers. STOP IT. It’s none of your business. Commenting on a woman’s body in general without any solicitation from the woman is not only unwanted, it’s inappropriate.