The tea shelf in my pantry is absurd. Dozens of teas from everywhere I go, stacked and falling over next to nearly as many varieties of honey on the other end of the shelf. I’ve been a bit obsessed with Lupicia teas for the past few years, ever since I discovered that they make teas that taste like roasted chestnuts and salty sakura mochi and sweet beans. But I’ve never found a commercial chai that tastes as good as the one I’m posting here now. Just a bit of toasting and pounding, and you have enough chai to last months, perfect rich spices to ease you into your day each morning.

In other news, I finally put together a main site to gather up all my projects and portfolios. I’ve also started an etsy shop, where I’m selling my lampworked glass beads and jewelry.

My bees are doing well. It’s been a rough summer for them, and I had to replace the queen once, but the hive is now going strong. I’m pretty confident that they have good odds heading into winter, at least, and still have hope that they’ll manage to make some honey for me if we get a good nectar run this fall.

I finally got stung for the first time by my hive. Turned out that it’s much less of a big deal than it was back when I was a kid! And I totally deserved it – I was doing a hive inspection alone, and I squished more bees than usual when stacking the supers back up at the end. But that’s okay – I’ll still gladly go in wearing shorts and tanktops and a loose veil, and pet fuzzly walls of bees in the hive. Me and the ladies, we get along just fine.

Archives
2008: Black and White Cookies
2007: Dolmas (stuffed grape leaves)


Toasted Hazelnut Chai
37g black tea leaves
50g toasted hazelnuts
12g rose petals
20g cinnamon sticks
15g cardamom pods

A mortar and pestle honestly is the best and easiest tool for the job, this time.

I toast hazelnuts on a baking sheet in the oven, 315 F for about ten minutes (or until they smell good to you). Let them cool for a couple minutes, then coarsely crush them and mix them in with the tea.

My rose petals come in the form of curled up rosebuds, so I crush them just a bit until the petals separate out and break up enough to be mixed in with the rest.

Crush the cinnamon sticks into shards small enough to fit into your tea strainer. (It ended up being about 5ish 3″ cinnamon sticks, for me.) Mix in with the rest.

When you crush the cardamom pods, get in there with your fingers and rub the seeds out of the pods – but pour the pods along with the seeds into the mix with the rest.

That’s it. Sniff it to see if you’re happy, and adjust the proportions to taste. Store in a sealed container. Use like you would any other fantastically delicious chai.

I went on another foraging hike with Wildman Steve Brill this past Saturday in honor of Dave’s 30th birthday. This time, I came prepared – I dropped pins on my iPhone map whenever we passed a tree or bush that I knew I’d want to be able to find again later! But putting aside the tale of our first attempt at wild foraged NYC nocino, I want to tell you about the seeds of the Kentucky coffee tree.

Early in the hike, we passed a huge Kentucky coffee trees with leaves like the tailfeathers of a bird. The Wildman pointed out the seed pods on the ground, and told us that the seeds could be roasted and used as a tasty caffeine-free coffee substitute. After a bit of hunting, our eyes adjusted to looking for seeds instead of seed pods, and we collected baggies full of what looked like malted milk balls hidden among the dead leaves at the side of the path.

This next photo is by the Wildman himself, reposted here just so you can see what the seeds actually look like.

Following the Wildman’s instructions, when we got home we roasted the seeds in a foil-covered baking pan at 300 F for 2 hours. (The foil is there because some of the seeds end up popping like popcorn!) Our kitchen smelled like roasted chicory, and we thought of grinding up the whole seeds to make Kentucky coffee.

Dave and I are halfway through an elimination diet at the moment, though, and we’ve been craving chocolate much more than coffee. So, thinking back to when I made chocolate from scratch, we shelled the roasted seeds and used only the meaty innards.

Those innards, we ground to as fine a powder as we could. (We used a coffee grinder, but I’d strongly recommend using a superblender or sumeet instead.) I can pretty much guarantee you’ll want to sieve out the lumps.

Finally, we added in agave nectar (2:3 :: roasted and pitted Kentucky coffee tree seeds : agave nectar) and salt to taste, and blended until smooth.

It’s like a wild foraged chocolate spread or nutella substitute! What a perfect spread for toast or pancake. The Kentucky coffee spread had an intense, interesting darkness to it, and a touch of bitterness that was perfectly mellowed by the agave. As soon as this elimination diet is over, I am treating myself to a breakfast of crepes with sour cream and this Kentucky coffee spread.

One of these days, we have to go back and pick up more. In the meantime, you should go on one of the Wildman’s hikes. I think this was third or fourth one I’ve been on, and I still learned new things and had a great time.

Archives
2009: Son-In-Law Eggs
2008: Sour Cherry Coffee Cake

I really need to pick up my own copy of Eat Me by Kenny Shopsin of Shopsin’s (read the background story here). I read a friend’s copy, and absolutely loved Kenny’s explanation of how he deconstructs dishes and puts them together in unexpected but perfectly reasonable (once he explains them to you, that is) permutations. It actually reminded me a lot of this conversation from Off the Bone about alienating falafel from its Middle Eastern context and thinking of it as a savory herb and chickpea fritter instead.

And if that weren’t enough, here you can find a post with a link to an mp3 of a cute little girl reading the full list of pancakes on the Shopsin’s insanely long menu.

This dish is based on the bit in the book where Kenny mentions that he started making banana guacamole when he realized that green bananas are much like avocados, really. His recipe? Pick your favorite guacamole recipe, and use bananas instead of avocados. That’s it.

So, that’s what we did. We put together a guacamole recipe that we liked, and used ripe bananas instead of green ones to create a dip that’s something between guacamole and banana ketchup. If you have your own guacamole recipe, or want to cut down on the sweetness and use green bananas instead, give it a try and let us know how it goes!

Honestly, I don’t really tend to like the food at Shopsin’s. I want to, because it’s brilliant and charming and they used to have a copy of Pynchon’s Gravity Rainbow in the windowsill to read while waiting for your order, but it never really worked for me. The stories and ideas, however, really do.

In other news, I finally put together a site that consolidates all my various writings, galleries, arts, and activities. It’s up here. Which means that I’ll finally keep Habeas to food alone, and put my glasswork and beekeeping stories &c over there instead.

(Yeah, did I mention that I’m a beekeeper now? I have bees!)

Archives
2008: Ramp Udon Soup with Bacon Consommé and Asparagus Tempura
2007: Banana Rum Ketchup
2006: Ramp Butter


Banana Guacamole
4 ripe bananas
8 cloves garlic, minced
1 small hot pepper, seeds and ribs removed, minced (or to taste)
2 tbsp red palm oil
1 tbsp minced fresh parsley
juice of 2 limes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Mash the ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. Adjust seasonings to taste.

You could blend them instead if you prefer, but using the cruder tools gives you a chunkier, more satisfying texture.

Perhaps you’ve perused the fridge at Kam Man or some other Chinatown grocery store and seen jars of this crazy awesome mushy liquid that looks like rotting rice in cloudy water. It’s sweet and boozy, a tasty precursor to more refined sakes. You can brew your own using Chinese wine balls (actually, yeast balls), but personally, I just buy it by the jar.

This recipe was adapted from Ken Hom, who has become my go-to source for quick and easy weeknight dinners. (I can’t believe I’m writing this. Since when do I prioritize quick and easy? Honestly, I still don’t, but once in a while when we get home late it really is nice to be able to throw something together in a rush.)

I’ve never eaten anything else like this. That’s really the point. It tastes almost as alcoholic as Dave’s chocolate mousse, with that gorgeously savory spiciness from the chili bean paste. Dave (my partner) is trying to avoid nightshades nowadays, which didn’t stop me from making a whole batch of this to eat myself over the next week. So worth it, even for me alone.

Archives
2008: Rhubarb Soup with Nicoise Olive Cookies
2007: Sour Cherry Braised Lamb Shanks
2006: Pear and Basil Tart


Spicy Shrimp with Wine Rice
(adapted from Chinese Technique by Ken Hom)
1 lb ground pork
1 lb large unshelled shrimp
kosher salt
safflower/peanut/canola oil
2 tbsp grated ginger
2 tbsp minced garlic
4 dried birdseye peppers, crushed
1 tbsp sesame oil
1/2 C thinly sliced scallions (circles of the green parts only)
for the marinade
2 tbsp shaoxing
1 1/2 tbsp light soy sauce
for the sauce
1 tbsp dark soy sauce
1 tbsp shaoxing
1 tsp granulated sugar
2 tbsp chili bean paste (I use Lee Kum Kee brand Chili Bean Sauce (Toban Djan))
1/2 C chicken stock
1 1/2 C fermented wine rice

1. Mix the ground pork with the marinade ingredients and set aside.

2. Devein the shrimp, but leave the shells on; you can just slice through the shells easily when deveining.

3. Here’s the trick for making sure the shrimp are nice and crunchy instead of mushy – stir in 1 tsp kosher salt and let sit for 1 minute. Rinse with cold water. Repeat two more times (three salt/rinse cycles, total), then pat dry.

4. Heat your wok until it feels like a hot radiator with your palm 2-3 inches above the bottom, then add about 3 tbsp safflower oil and swirl it around to coat the inside of the wok. When it’s almost smoking again, add the shrimp and stir-fry until they are opaque. Remove from wok and set aside.

5. Add a bit more oil to the wok, maybe 2 tbsp or so, then stir-fry the ginger, garlic, and crushed birdseye chilis for a minute, until fragrant.

6. Add the ground pork and stir-fry until it no longer looks raw.

7. Add the sauce ingredients and stir thoroughly as it boils for a minute or two.

8. Add the shrimp and cook for a moment longer, then turn off the heat and stir in the sesame oil and scallions.

9. Serve with rice.

My honorary aunt and dear friend recently gave me a copy of Enlightened Chocolate by Camilla V. Saulsbury. It’s a collection of ‘healthy’(-ish) chocolate recipes. My concept of healthy-ish cooking is to bake infrequently and give away most of my cookies, not fret over ingredients, but some of the recipes here actually look pretty tasty.

These scones are just wonderful. Dave has slowly introduced me to enjoying baked goods made with whole wheat flour over the past few years – he started by sneaking a little bit into his breads, and then increasing the percentage slowly over time. It’s pretty amazing, but now I love that touch of whole wheat flour flavor mixed with the ginger in this recipe. Next time I might even go so far as to make it with half whole wheat flour, half cake flour! (”I’ve really learned how to manipulate your brain,” says he.)

I added extra chocolate and extra ginger, messed with the flour percentages, and used whole milk instead of fat-free. I also like cutting smaller scones, because they’re so much easier to share. And oh, they’re absolutely perfect with a big mug of genma chai for breakfast in the morning.

Archives
2008: Quick-Pickled Cucumbers with Chili Bean Sauce
2007: Chicken and Rice, Curry Banana, Roots and Rhizomes Stew
2006: Aztec Marshmallows


Double Ginger Chocolate Chunk Scones
(adapted from Enlightened Chocolate by Camilla V. Saulsbury)
2/3 C whole wheat flour
1/3 C all-purpose flour
1 C cake flour
1/4 C packed dark brown sugar
2 1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
5 tbsp butter, cut into chunks
1/2 C plus 2 tsp milk (I used whole milk, but fat-free would be fine)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 large egg white
3 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped into chunks
4 tbsp chopped crystallized ginger (or Ginger People ginger chips – yum!) (Dave prefers trading half of the ginger for an equal quantity of chopped dried strawberries)
2 tsp raw/turbinado sugar

1. Preheat your oven to 450 F.

2. In a food processor, blend together the flours, brown sugar, ground ginger, baking powder, salt, and butter until the mix resembles coarse meal.

3. In a separate bowl, stir together the 1/2 C milk, egg white, and vanilla.

4. Blend the milk mixture into the flour mixture just until it starts to come together.

5. Pour the fairly liquidy dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and separate into two parts. Flatten a bit by hand.

6. Press half the chocolate chunks and half the crystallized ginger into the top of each mound of dough.

7. Knead each mound of dough about 4 times, sprinkling a bit more flour on it as needed. Don’t be afraid of it – it will stay gooey, and the chocolate and ginger will try to escape. Just squish it together as best you can, don’t overwork it in an attempt to solidify it, and don’t panic. It’ll all work out just fine. Honest.

8. Press each mound of dough into a 4″ diameter circle on a parchment lined baking sheet.

9. Cut each mound into 8 wedges, but don’t separate or worry about really cutting the lines all the way through.

10. Brush with the extra milk and sprinkle on the turbinado sugar.

11. Bake for 16-18 minutes or until golden, rotating from top to bottom and front to back halfway through.

Going through older post drafts, I’m always a bit startled when I come across a photo that I actually really like! It always seems to me that surely I must have posted all the good photos already, and only left the dregs as drafts. But apparently not.

Salad may not seem that exciting, but for me it’s revolutionary. In fact, so are blood oranges – I can’t stand regular oranges, but blood oranges taste just different enough. The redder they are, the better they taste. I can’t tell if that’s a real difference, or if I just like that the reddest ones look less like oranges. We made this during the height of Dave’s obsession with stovetop approximated sous vide cooking, and my obsession with finding salads I actually enjoy eating.

I think what won me over was the realization that salads could include fruit and spices and artistry, and not just a bunch of leaves on a plate. Who knew?

Enjoy!

Archives
2008: Cocoa Nib Flans with Raw Sugar Sauce
2007: Stewed Garlicky Black Bean Spare Ribs

Artichoke and Blood Orange Salad
2 small heads frisee, removed from base and cleaned
1/4 C coarsely chopped flat leaf parsley
for the pickled artichokes
8 artichoke hearts, cut into eighths (held in acidulated water)
150 gm white wine vinegar
1.5 gm gelatin (optional — don’t bother if you have a chamber vac)
1 quarter preserved lemon, rind only, coarsely chopped.
4 cardamom pods, crushed
2 cloves garlic, crushed
for the blood oranges
4 blood oranges
1 tsp ground cardamom
for the vinaigrette
2 tbsp mustard seed oil
1 tsp red wine vinegar
fleur du sel
black pepper

First, make the pickled artichoke hearts.

This is actually a pretty spectacular method for doing sous vide cooking with liquidy contents inside the vacuum sealed bag without having a hugely expensive chamber vacuum sealer. Ordinarily, a FoodSaver or other normal, affordable home vacuum sealer can’t seal up anything that isn’t pretty dry, because the liquid gums up the works (as it were).

To solve this problem, we hit upon the idea of gelling the liquid with gelatin, since gelatin is thermoreversible and melts back into liquid when heated. This turns the liquid into a solid during the vacuum-sealing stage, and back into a liquid during the cooking stage. A perfect solution to all of life’s problems!

1. Bring the vinegar and gelatin to a boil, then refrigerate it until it is set.

2. Make a sachet with the cardamom, garlic, and lemon.

3. Add gelled vinegar, spice sachet, and artichoke hearts to a vacuum bag and seal.

4. Cook at 185 F for 40-75 minutes, until somewhat tender.

Next, prepare the blood orange.

1. Supreme the blood oranges by cutting off the peel to create a whole skinless fruit, then cutting segments of fruit out from between the layers of membrane. There are some great visual instructions on how to supreme citrus here.

2. Toss the blood orange segments with the cardamom.

Finally, construct the salad.

1. Whick together the vinaigrette, and toss with the parsley and frisee.

2. Top with blood orange segments (cold), artichokes (warm), salt, and freshly ground pepper to taste.

3. Serve immediately.

These truffles were inspired by Goat Lady Dairy, which I encountered at the farmers market in Greensboro, North Carolina last winter. Her chevre truffles were a blended ganache, about 60% chocolate to 40% chevre, with a bit of vanilla and salt as well – and they were fantastic! Of course, I had to come back home to NYC eventually, so I had to figure out how to make my own replacement instead of just relying on Goat Lady Dairy for my fix.

The Greensboro farmers market was just amazing. It turns out that Goat Lady Dairy does an occasional restaurant sort of like ours (sigh), excepts theirs takes place in their barn. I also met Ross Flynn of Cane Creek Farm, who chatted with me about tasty cow hearts, Ossabaw pigs (apparently more like historical Iberico than the Iberico available today!), and other meaty topics along those lines.

After getting home and going through some experimentation, I came to the conclusion that I liked simple salted chocolate-dipped chevre even better than blended chevre truffles. They look nicer to me, and I love the texture contrast as you bite through the chocolate shell and and the cold, creamy chevre bursts out into your mouth.

I’m a bit fussy, and I only like very mild cheeses. I always buy my chevre at the Union Square or Grand Army Plaza greenmarkets from Lynnhaven Farm, which has the mildest, sweetest, creamiest chevre around. It has just the right level of tanginess for my taste, and it works perfectly in these truffles.

I’ve also included cheat to get you out of having to temper the chocolate. It turns out that if you melt a bit of neutral oil in with your chocolate, it will help stabilize the crystal structure and keep your chocolate from blooming or otherwise appearing to be out of temper. It’s a great trick for dipping things in chocolate when you just don’t have the time or inclination to go through the whole process of actually tempering the chocolate properly. Seems too easy to work, but it does.

Archives
2008: Home-Cured Salmon with Black Pepper and Coriander
2007: Forbidden Rice with Persimmon and Coconut
2006: Truffled Gruyere Risotto


Chevre Truffles
4 oz chevre
4 oz bittersweet chocolate
2 tsp safflower (or other neutral) oil
Maldon (or other crunchy) sea salt

Roll the chevre into small spheres and spread them out on a parchment paper covered baking sheet. Put them in the freezer and allow them to freeze.

The oil lets you cheat on tempering the chocolate. It helps stabilize the crystal structure, and keeps the chocolate from blooming even when it hasn’t been tempered.

Gently melt the chocolate with the oil, stirring it until all lumps are gone. Let it cool a bit.

Dip the chevre spheres into the chocolate and put them back onto the parchment paper to set. Sprinkle a bit of crunchy salt on top of each one after it is dipped – act fast, though, because the chocolate will set very quickly!

Store in the fridge. Serve cold but not frozen.

This recipe was inspired by Wildman Steve Brill, who has a foraged, vegan version in his Wild Vegetarian Cookbook. The Wildman uses cashews for their creamy texture and actual sassafras roots foraged from city parks for their vivid flavor, but our civilized ovo-lacto interpretation can be made with ingredients actually purchased in stores.

It’s clementine season again, and our apartment is never without a big wooden bowl full of clementines in the middle of the dining room table. I get my sassafras extract at New York Cake Supplies, though you can easily order it online or find it in other gourmet food stores.

This ice cream tastes like melted sunlight. (Sunlight qua frozen hot chocolate, perhaps?) It has all those wonderful bright citrus notes – though maybe I’m a bit overexcited, given what a clementine addict I become every winter. And sassafras is one of the key ingredients in root beer, and it tastes like root beer without all the distractions getting in the way.

In other news, we got some press by winning the savory category of the First Annual Brooklyn Pie Bake-Off with our muffin-sized individual saffron duck pot pies. Thank you to everyone who came out to eat and compete!

There was a big crowd with about 40 pies on the table, and we had a great time tasting as many as we could and hanging out with other food bloggers and pie enthusiasts. With such a great start, I’m awfully tempted to compete in more cook-offs from now on!

Archives
2008: Pork & Sundried Tomato Cappelletti with Pomegranate Walnut Sauce
2007: Cubed Radish Kimchi
2006: Kabocha Beef Tagine with Chickpeas and Preserved Lemon


Clementine Sassafras Ice Cream
2 C heavy cream
1 C wholemilk
Juice of 3 clementines
Zest of 6 clementines (just eat the rest!)
6 large egg yolks
3/4 C granulated sugar
1/8 tsp sassafras extract
1/4 c candied clementine rind (optional)
A bit of citric acid to taste (optional)

In a medium saucepan, stir the cream, juice, and zest together with half of the sugar, reserving the other 3/8 C sugar for later.

In a large bowl, whisk the egg yolks together with the other 3/8 C sugar until thoroughly combined.

Bring the cream mixture to a simmer, then remove it from the heat and slowly pour it into egg yolks, whisking constantly.

Pour the mix back into the saucepan and bring to 180 degrees F, stirring constantly. When it hits the right temperature, remove it from the heat and strain into medium bowl set in a larger bowl of ice water.

Stir until it cools to 120 degrees F.

Stir in the sassafras extract. Add the candied clementine and citric acid to taste (optional).

Chill and freeze churn according to your cream maker’s instructions.

I have good news and bad news.

The bad news is that my occasional restaurant, Jack, is shutting down. Due to increasing incompatibility with the venue, we can no longer continue to hold our monthly restaurant nights. It lasted almost two years, and has been an amazing experience. Next, we try to write a book proposal, I suppose. (Though if Palo Santo wanted to take us on as dessert consultants, we wouldn’t complain! We should be so lucky.)

We’re still in mourning over the loss of the restaurant, in a sense. It was a huge part of our lives. But I don’t doubt that the next wacky project is always just around the corner. Compiling long to-do lists of project ideas is my forte.

The good news is that in the meantime, we’re taking our suddenly free weekend as an opportunity to finally join the local cook-off scene. (For those of you elsewhere in the world, here’s the thing: NYC has a burgeoning cook-off scene that has really gotten huge over the past couple of years. Crazy, huh?)

This Sunday we’re going to compete at the 1st Annual Brooklyn Pie Bake-Off Benefit. Come on out, eat delicious pie, and vote for us!

Archives
2008: Chile Lime Sweet Potatoes with Spinach Clove Yogurt
2007: Cranberry Quince Sorbet
2006: Cocoa Nib Caramel & Almond Butter Nougat Bars

So, here’s the story: that photo up there is of me and Dave with our goddaughter on our wedding day.

(I might have a bit more time for taking food photos and writing now that the wedding planning is over!)

(Also, before I forget to give this most important credit: the photos in this post are all from proofs by Annaliese Moyer unless otherwise indicated.)

Dave and I got married on August 29th, and promptly left for our honeymoon in Southeast Asia. Even catching up on things since getting back has been an adventure. We petted tigers, got sick, ate many tasty street foods, hiked around, visited five countries, and had an incredible trip. Now that I’m back, I’m working on some interesting cases for clients whom I am proud to represent, and really just luxuriating in having the extra energy to pour into all of my work and projects.

I’d like to take a moment to tell you a bit more about the wedding.

Our goddaughter was our bubble girl, you see.

We’d originally planned to hold the ceremony on the beach between the bridges, but when the rain started coming down harder, we gave up and sought shelter [under the chuppah] under the arch of the Manhattan Bridge in Dumbo, Brooklyn, NY (photo by our friend Laura, I believe).

Pausing for the noisy trains to pass was one of the many highlights of this decision. I think I laughed more during our ceremony than I ever have at anyone else’s wedding, which is a huge win in my book!

We asked our dear friend Cat Valente to officiate for us, along with the judge for whom I used to work as a court attorney, with help from a linguistics professor / cantor friend to sing the sheva brachot. Cat explained what the various symbols of the ceremony meant to us, and the judge discussed our commitment to marriage equality at our request and administered our vows.

Dave held my bouquet while I said my vows to him.

Scott Lefton made us the most amazing wedding rings (photo below taken by him).

Our rings each come with a custom-designed puzzle, that enables the ring to be worn as a bracelet or a pendant. Each puzzle has a labyrinth hidden within, which must be solved by rotating the outer body of the puzzle and moving the two arms which hold the ring in place. As Scott put it during our wedding ceremony, “this echoes how Danielle and Dave will work together to navigate the mazes of their joined lives, sometimes moving together and sometimes separately, but always with a common goal in mind.” When the puzzle is solved, the arms move inwards and the ring can be removed and worn traditionally instead.

Scott printed the solution to the puzzle on flash paper and lit it on fire during the ceremony, of course. Wouldn’t want to make things too easy on us.

He handed a second copy of the solution in a sealed envelope to my brother, who put it in a safe deposit box somewhere out on Long Island. When we got home from the honeymoon, we found the key and coordinates to the solution in a frame on the wall in our apartment.

We were rained out, but we didn’t let that stop us.

We had a reception filled with games, honey, and stories.

Our wedding favors were small jars filled with Zambian honey, with labels I made from the invitation art drawn by Lee Moyer.

My favorite is still the wall we set up with luggage tags. People wrote true and false stories about us on luggage tags and tacked them to the wall, then voted on stories others had written with little red and green stickers.

We brought our favorite cleaver from home to cut the wedding cake.

(This at least is bloggishly appropriate. I’ve used that cleaver to chop pumpkins for kaddo bourani and bones stewed garlicky black bean spare ribs. It is well loved and well utilized.)

Brooklyn’s Borough President, Marty Markowitz, issued a Proclamation for us. Dave’s mother baked the most delicious cookies for all of our guests. My brother found the Baby Soda Jazz Band for us just a few days before the event.

I can’t possibly recount all the details here. I’ll skip ahead to more appropriate posts soon, with photos of all the amazing foods we discovered on our honeymoon. But this is what’s been taking up so much of my time, and you deserve a glimpse of it.

Our wedding was ultimately a huge collaborative effort, and afterwards, a lot of people came up to us to say that they’d never had this much fun being part of a wedding before. We really stepped back and let people run wild with their creativity for us, loving what they had to give instead of telling them precisely what to do to build a very specific image for us. I absolutely treasure the brilliant, amazing people we have in our lives, whose wildest dreams created such a wonderment for us.

And now that all’s done and we’re home again, my blushing bride handsome husband partner (nothing else sounds quite right, still) and I are catching up on our lives (and our cooking) at last!