Although we are inching our way into mid-August, summer kind of feels like it’s just kicking off. Last weekend we went to Brighton for the ultimate street party that is Pride, and at the end of this week we’re headed to Cinque Terre, Italy, to hike and sit on the beach and eat pesto. The past few months have been all about moving and adjusting and finding my feet, and it’s so good to have these little trips to remind me to stop and enjoy the summer while it’s still here.
Not that there hasn’t been copious enjoyment already: between binge-watching Stranger Things (poor Barb!), learning to make Vietnamese bun, and taking long, romantic Pokémon Go walks in the park with Leo, the summer has brought a lot of goodness. And my developing affinity for making frozen cocktails once 5 pm hits hasn’t hurt, either.
It took me about a decade and a half of my life to realize that smoothies were something I could consume outside of a mall. What do you mean, there are smoothies better than the ones from Jamba Juice? And you don’t even have to crawl through a crowd of Ugg-clad teenagers armed with Hollister shopping bags to get them? What is this madness?!
After my realization, things got tastier. I’m pretty sure in my early smoothie-making days I didn’t venture much beyond frozen berries and milk, but hey, we’ve all got to start somewhere.
To be honest, I don’t usually follow recipes when making smoothies (duh). The contents of the blender often depend on whatever I have on hand—usually a banana, some milk, some greens, and far too much peanut butter. But some days, I want to make a pretty smoothie, and this calls for a little extra attention.
For one thing, combining berries and greens is a no-no when making a smoothie that’s aesthetically pleasing. Color is key, and a brown-green liquid isn’t the most appetizing. So what do you do when you want a pretty smoothie with both greens AND fruity goodness? These are the important questions in life, and I’m here to answer them, people.
Since moving to London, I have discovered two words that are quickly becoming my new favorites. Perhaps they are already a part of your daily vocabulary, but I had never heard them before and have been using them at every chance I get, sometimes a little too enthusiastically.
The first word is chinwag, i.e. an intense chat or gossip session. Used in a sentence: “It’s been such a tough week—I just need to let off some steam and have a Prosecco and a chinwag with the girls tonight.” How great is that?! I love it.
The second word is squidgy. This is one that I’m surprised I’d never heard, given that it’s a perfect description of so many baked goods: soft, moist, even a little chewy. If I were a cake, I would most definitely want to be a squidgy one. Used in a sentence: “That sticky toffee pudding was perfectly squidgy, Poppy dear. How did you ever manage to make it so delightfully spongy and moist?”
This rad little un-recipe is one that I’ve been itching to try since reading it on two of my favorite slices of the Internet, Food52 and Orangette, a while back.
I love dates for their sticky, caramel-y goodness, so much so that they usually don’t last for more than two days in my house after buying them—they are quickly devoured, often slathered with tahini or peanut butter (I still hold to the fact that dates with tahini taste strangely, wonderfully similar to Cadbury mini eggs).
However, on the rare occasion that I’m able to practice some self-control when I have dates in my possession, I now know what to do with them: give ‘em a quick sauté in a hot pan with nice olive oil, then spoon the dates, oil and all, over a pool of rich, tangy Greek yogurt. Top with flaky sea salt and you’re golden. Read more
Strawberry season has arrived in England and I’m greeting it with open arms (and a lot of butter).
Earlier this month, I made a chocolate-strawberry tart for Leo’s birthday. It had a crust made of two different kinds of digestives (a misleadingly healthy-sounding name for cookies), butter, a hefty layer of sweet strawberries, and a drizzle of melted chocolate. I meant to top the tart with hand-whipped cream, too, but an hour later, with an incredibly sore arm, a ton of curdled, liquidy cream (ew), and more than a little frustration, I realized I bought the wrong kind and had to scratch it.
Luckily, the cream debacle didn’t make much of a difference. The tart was still fan-freakin’-tastic, in large part because of how darn good the strawberries are right now. We ate it in the park with friends and it was messy and delicious and happy and I got a sunburn. Summer, right? Sigh.
Today I’m here to give you a recipe that’s a lot more foolproof than the little tart that caused me so much grief on Leo’s birthday. This strawberry-ginger crumble is a simple, lovely dessert that screams summer and showcases the season beautifully. I was inspired by Bon Appetit’s super-useful primer on crumbles but quickly ended up doing my own thing, with great results.