If there’s one and only one silver lining to the unrelenting rainy season that is perennial to the Pacific Northwest, it is the abundance of wild mushrooms. I just love the idea that anyone can pull on some boots, trudge into the forest, and simply pluck such treasures from the ground if they care to look hard enough (and learn which types are safe and which are poison, of course). So few pleasures are free, ya know? Right now we are in peak wild mushroom season, and especially abundant at the moment is my favorite-favorite
Are you starting to notice a chill in the air, finally? Someone must have flipped the switch this week near us- up until this week summer was still going strong with 90s/100s and sun, but today I am finding myself confused and sweatered. Normally at the first sign of chill I get down with some really mature, futile internal protesting. But this year I am just endlessly grateful for the rain that seems to be moving in, that we have been desperately needing to help put out the wildfires, which have been really, really bad this year.
On Sunday Ben and I are traveling home to Wisconsin for two (!) whole weeks. I couldn’t be more thrilled! In my mind I am already drifting belly-up on the lake (which I hear is super warm this year), ice cream sandwich in hand, the distinct bouquet of sunscreen mixed with grilled meats wafting through my brain. It’s going to be very, very rad. Corequisite to my excitement, I am also experiencing my typical pre-travel tailspin into madness and worst-case-scenarios. I have imagined all the ways
I’m doubtful anyone besides my mother has noticed, but I took a break from the blog for a few months. I tried to keep up during the winter season, but the near-complete lack of sunlight made for some intensely frustrating photo shoots. Many were scrapped. It was very discouraging, to say the least. I sensed my pattern of self-sabotage creeping up behind me
Guys, I am in a funk. And it’s not like James Brown’s funk, or the Isley Brothers’ funk. It’s a very non-awesome, kind-of toxic, super-blarghy-ultra-screw-up-expialidocious…funk. I’m making uncharacteristically dumb mistakes at work, my sleep schedule is out the window, and all I can seem to do right is binge watching Grey’s Anatomy in bed covered in cats who, at times, seem dubious about my hygiene (understandably).
Memorize this simple formula for chicken or turkey gravy from drippings and you’ll never have a gravy-emergency again!
You’ve done it: you’ve roasted the most picturesque, succulent chicken or turkey. Don’t let those savory drippings go to waste! Gravy from drippings is the best tasting gravy since the flavors have just spent hours developing and caramelizing in the oven- you just can’t get that from a jar or packet. And guess what! It’s just as easy. You’re just a few steps and a few minutes away from the perfect gravy.
The classic roasted chicken and potatoes dinner has never been easier or more delicious! Spatchcock-ing the bird reduces cooking time and makes for a coveted, crispy skin all over while fingerling potatoes caramelize in the juices. And it all takes place on one sheet pan.
Blessed mother of crispy skin- I am SO EXCITED to share this recipe with you today. I’ve done it. I have conquered the roasted chicken, and it is crispy, and juicy, and perfect, and EASY. For a long time, I avoided roasting my own chicken- I just didn’t see the point when I could buy a fresh rotisserie chicken and call it a day. I still have great respect for the rotisserie chicken as a shortcut to things like chicken pot pie and chicken noodle soup. I guess I just didn’t know how good a homemade roasted chicken could be. Now I do, and it took every ounce of marital devotion I have within me to not eat all of that beautiful skin myself in 8 seconds.
Classic and comforting creamy mushroom soup gets an update with the addition of roasted mushroom, plenty of white wine, and brie.
Today I share with you a soup recipe that is an adaptation of a recipe published by Closet Cooking back in 2014. It’s incredible.
A really sad thing happened to me recently- strolling through Pinterest for ideas I happened upon a promising-looking roasted mushroom and brie soup. I made it twice and was so happy with it that I took to leaving an absolutely glowing and ecstatic review on the food blog where I found it. Afterward, a few days ago, I stumbled across another roasted mushroom brie soup on Closet Cooking, which had the exact same ingredients and quantities and cooking methods- but it was posted an entire year earlier than the version I had seen first. I returned to the first recipe that had received my accolades, for comparison and to check for credit, and it immediately became clear to me that that blogger, who shall remain nameless because I am kind, ripped off Closet Cooking without giving credit where it was due, and passed it off as their own work.
It really buttered my biscuits. Because I am still relatively new at this, I look to established food bloggers as examples of best practices. And I guess that I naively imagined that we are all rooting for one another, tied harmoniously by our love of food and our shared efforts.
I’ve been making pork potstickers for family and friends for years- they have always been improvised and slightly unique each time, and I never wrote the recipe down until I prepared the little dumplins you see pictured before you. We took a long camping weekend up in Washington last month with some loved ones where I was reminded by Ben’s cousin Alex that I once made these potstickers for him several years ago, long before we all migrated to our respective corners of the Pacific Northwest. He told me emphatically that they were so delicious that he has since never forgotten about them. It warmed my heart! The whiskey helped, too.
Have you been to the farmers market lately? What a glorious bounty of magnificent produce we are graced with right now. Sour cherries! Figs! Rainbow carrots! Stone fruits galore! It is truly a great time to be alive and eating! Out of all of nature’s summer treasures, I anxiously await peaches and corn the most. Corn holds serious nostalgia for me as a native midwesterner- to me, it has always been a delicious signal that summertime is in full swing. And here we are. It’s late July, the corn stalks are well past knee-high, and caravans of peach trucks are making their way up from Georgia (actually, we have pretty good peaches in Oregon, too!).