Tuesday, May 14, 2013


photo from recipe

I got more my than my blue eyes from my dad. I also inherited his frugality (love you, dad). This is how I found myself getting routine highlights and hair cuts at a beauty school when my regular DC stylist went on leave and had her first baby. Nothing particularly tragic has happened yet (knock on wood), but there have been more than a few nervous afternoons spent thinking "has this person ever done highlights before? is my hair going to fall out?" as I've sat in one of the hundreds of chairs at the DC Aveda Institute. Most recently, the woman asked me somewhat nervously "so, have you ever been platinum before?" 

Spoiler alert: I'm now a bit platinum. 

And so is the inside of this amazing cream cheese pound cake. Yes, that's the best I could do to segue to something cooking-related. Go with it.

In all seriousness, this pound cake is delicious (and platinum). It's super light, with just a hint of cream cheese tang, and is perfect both by itself as a sneaky snack or as the host for a mess of berries and whipped cream. Unfortunately I couldn't make it for my own mother this past Sunday, but I was able to make it for another special mother, who very much enjoyed it. She didn't happen to own an electric mixer, so we all took turns beating the cream cheese, butter, and sugar together by hand, and it still tasted light and perfect. 

FYI, I halved the recipe, and ended up with one regular loaf, although the original recipe advocates for making both, and freezing one. Apparently it's even better out of the freezer, which is an excellent reason to try the recipe again, I think...  

Tuesday, May 7, 2013


First of all, let me say I thought I had officially earned my status as a pseudo-Southern woman when I made buttermilk biscuits successfully for the first time ("pseudo" tacked on there because I was raised in the south, but by a family of Michiganders...which makes things very confusing). I realized I was mistaken when, this past Sunday, I announced "I think my apartment is going to smell like bacon for weeks," and found myself looking up how to store an ungodly quantity of bacon grease. Adding to my weird south/north hybrid heritage, this landmark moment occurred in DC. Whatever, I'm sure this will make for a good job interview story some day, some how. If the hiring manager likes bacon. Anyways.

My apartment is currently emanating this eau de swine because of the brunchiversary I hosted Sunday to celebrate my first year of DC residency and home ownership. Because I now own an apartment that I'd rather like to not get evicted from (and because the party kicked off at 1pm), I figured I best serve my guests food and celebratory cocktails. So, with the help of a few lovely friends, I whipped up quantities of food never before seen by my poor stove. We turned out 30 eggs, 2 packs of bacon, 4 packages of sausage, 4 packages of breakfast potatoes, 2 dozen cream cheese biscuits, and a giant coffee cake to supplement the delicious guac and chips another friend brought. We put away an equally impressive/horrifying quantity of champagne, beer, and sangria, but I'm happy to report no one lit the roof on fire, got in a brawl, or did anything else that might jeopardize my co-op membership. Thanks gang!

In fact, other than the lobster-esque sunburn I managed to get on my shoulders, the entire shindig was a huge success. I'm so grateful to everyone who stopped by to help me celebrate, and I can't help but feel super nostalgic for how great life has been since I made the big move last year. I never would have thought I could be so lucky, and I can't wait to see what the next year will bring!