Before this post runs away from me, as so many of them do, I’ll just start by saying: if you’re here for the recipe, alone, I know this looks like a crapload of ingredients and steps, but I beg of you – don’t be intimidated. The allure of these bowls lies in their lovingly forgiving …
I mean, not like Gaga playing Madison Square Garden made it, but you know — the rough equivalent in the world of food blogging. Or something. Sort of. You’ll have to excuse me. It’s been a long week. I blame donut brain. And donut tell me that isn’t a thing, because it totally is. It can happen when you eat roughly all the donuts in two days, supplemented only by thick wedges of key lime pie. To keep the scurvy at bay, of course. That’s real life.
Around these parts, #SoLetsPigOut week has been off the chizzain. It started with introducing all of you to my cohost Gina from So…Let’s Hang Out. (She’s the one on the right up there with the unmistakably how the eff did I agree to this look on her face.) We’ve spent the past four days grilling up chicken wangs, sipping on mocktails, steaking over your salad and sneaking superfoods into your sweets, all in the name of summer — and it’s only gonna get better.
In a #SoLetsPigOut Summer Potluck grand finale of sorts, we’ve invited 25+ bloggy friends ‘over’ to share their favorite summer recipes and they are majorly blowing my mind in a way that commands all the confetti pops that ever were. I mean srsly, if you’ve got a shareable eats shindig on your schedule this summer, BOOKMARKING THIS PAGE IS PROBABLY A GOOD IDEA.
I’ve learned the key to time travel. It’s called get busy, stay busy and maybe stress-eat half a key lime pie. Also, suggest a blog collaboration that runs a whole week long right in the middle of summer. The hours will just drop right away, all Heart of the Ocean style. Just “oop” and it’s Thursday. That’s some magick-with-a-“k” stuff right there.
If you’re not picking up what I’m putting down, the last three days of #SoLetsPigOut have been a blur. We’ve got THREE giveaways going, and yesterday I forced a Mad Men reference right onto your Grilled Thai Beef Salad. Things are getting batty. (Check out all the #SoLetsPigOut recipes and giveaways HERE.)
And, you guys, the best is still yet to come, because tomorrow 25 blogger friends are coming over for a virtual potluck that’s gonna melt the internet’s face off.
And today we’re talking donuts. Yay!
Remember that time it was 1:30 in the morning and your #SoLetsPigOut Day 3 joint post with Gina was supposed to go live in 6 hours? But then you spent a good 40 minutes googling The Bachelorette spoilers? And eating too many handfuls of Chicago mix popcorn? But really you just picked out all the caramel ones?
Hello. Welcome to my now.
We should totally be talking about salad.
When Gina and I were brainstorming the menu for #SoLetsPigOut, she was stuck in the midst of some Whole 30 BS and I was in the process of shoving circus animal cookies in my face. So when it came time to choose a main course of sorts, naturally we both honed right in on salad. Her because, um, grass and twigs and whole stuff. And me because salad later = more cookies now, and that’s the kinda math I can get behind. I mean, it’s right up there with
you! + me! = us!
To the three people that got that, we’re officially BFFs. Let’s braid hair and compare retainers. Mines blue with glitter! Squeal!
Oh haaaay guys, hope you’re all doing dandy. Dunno about you, but it’s #SoLetsPigOut Day 2 over here and I’m feeling stoked. Not only did I LOVE meeting some of the new friends that Gina sent over yesterday, but we’re talking cock/mocktails in today’s post — and more freebies for youbies. Until I managed to muck things up with the word cock back there, things were looking pretty good, wouldn’t you say?
In case you missed #SoLetsPigOut Day 1, this week I’ve teamed up with Gina from So…Let’s Hang Out to bring you guys a virtual riot of summer fun: potluckable recipes, free loot and all the pictures of me and Gina doing the my-arms-are-your-arms thing that you
always never knew you never always wanted. Like this one:
Ya’ll have met Gina from So…Let’s Hang Out, right?
(If not, she let me pick her brain pretty good in fun interview below. If you want, you can jump there now.)
(Oh ok, giveaway people, here’s a jump to the free MightyNest stuff, too.)
Today I’m super excited because Gina and I are joining forces to celebrate summer with a collaboration we’re calling #SoLetsPigOut (because we’re just that clever). All week long, we’ll be bringing you jointly-tested recipes perfect for summer shindigs, pool parties and other alliterative awesomeness plus hefty giveaways for some of our favorite kitchen essentials. And because just two girls getting interweird 2gether can be kinda sad, we’ve roped 25+ of our closest bloggy friends into rounding out the week with a #SoLetsPigOutPotluck featuring dozens of brand spankin’ new recipes.
It’s all for you, guys. Janet Jackson even said so.
You guys are going to think I’ve become completely unhinged with this one, and that’s ok. Because maybe I have, a little. I blame far too many episodes of The Mind of a Chef — or just a complete and utter devotion to forcing as much browned butter as possible into a dessert that, scientifically speaking, is kind of anti-browned butter. (I’ll explain later.)
A few months ago, Chris and I had the most spectacular meal at Manresa, included in which was a browned butter panna cotta, AKA Mindsplosion Central. I died, you guys. Ok, I didn’t die (clearly, jeesh, I don’t give you guys enough credit), but I think I uttered something alone the lines of “I could die at this moment and have no regrets” as soon as the first spoonful graced my lips. It was utterly silky, nutty and essentially browned tasting. It was nearly outside my realm of comprehension.
The single most delicious bite of food I’ve had in recent memory, in fact. And that is no small statement.
This morning I woke up certain that I was still dreaming. A glimpse outside revealed a slate sky heavy with anticipation, a thick-striped greenbelt under the window screaming words like verdant and lush that have become few and far between on the West Coast.
And then: the staticky buzz of cicadas, audible even over the light hum of the outer belt.
Ah, yes. The midwest. Again. It’s no dream.
More years ago than I care to count, Chris and I packed up our tiny college apartment just outside of downtown San Luis Obispo and dove (or rather drove) into a new life — a presumably grown-up life — in Columbus, OH. We did it for our jobs, first — and for the small thrill that accompanies decisions that are ultimately the result of late night brainstorms brimming with youthful proclamations: we’re young! we’re nimble! extra ranch and peperoncinis!
Living in Ohio was both exactly and not at all what we expected. It was opportunity — to advance our careers, to buy our first house, to explore a part of the country we had previously (perhaps selfishly?) ignored. And to forge incomparable friendships. But it was also isolation — from our families, our friends, In-N-Out Burger, literally everything that we knew as home, all of which was still back in California.
The four years we ended up spending out here taught us more about ourselves, about each other, than we ever could have guessed. Missing our families transformed into becoming each others’ family. Our boy-meets-girl story was slowly filled in with all those nothing really anecdotes that make up a history. Riding bikes in the thick of a summer thunderstorm. Shoveling — or rather, not shoveling — a drive. (Rookie mistake.) Crying over a dented box of Cheez-Its in the middle of the grocery store. A story for another day, I promise…