There are certain things that will always correlate with visiting the mall: trying to avoid people you know, clearance racks, the youth, 25 cent gumball machines, throwing pennies into fountains, and Auntie Anne’s.
You can smell Auntie Anne’s eight stores down-the buttery, salty, cinnamon-y sugary goodness. And on the way there you’ll pass Wetzel’s Pretzels without a second glance.
Ah how I love carbs.
Watermelon season is reaching its peak. That means that we need to savor every second of it. And by that, I mean eat as much watermelon as humanly possible while you still can.
In NYC, I saw Watermelon Juice being sold for $5 (or more specifically $4.99). This is just as refreshing without the unecessary high price.
Have you ever invented something only to find out that that thing has already been created? That happens to me everytime I think I come up with a revolutionary idea, for example: dates for caramel? the internet did that. spinach in pesto instead of basil? pssh, old news. Pre-sliced bread? already a thing.
But this is actually the first recipe I created ever (after an over steamed cauliflower incident)- and I have yet to see anything like it. This replaces the kraft mac and cheese and dinosaur shaped chicken nugget dinners of my childhood.
AriZona is America’s number one seller of iced tea. But that was before I came into town.
This is my house now.
4 ingredients. You control the amount of sugar. None of that artificial stuff.
Now all you need is a porch and a pup to sit at your feet. And maybe a mason jar if you’re feeling rustic.
Take a deep sniff.
You smell that? That’s the smell of desperate sweaty kids crying through finals to get to summer vacation. Along with the vague smell of suntan lotion and freshly mowed grass. These various smells are the signs or summer, more importantly known as watermelon season, approaching.
This post is for you broccoli boilers out there. (By all means you are getting your veggies in and I’m proud of you.) Or at the very least, those who are looking for a new yummy way to eat their vegetables.
Comfort food. You can’t really say no. It’s what I imagine as your parents or grandparents making for you and then pinching your cheek as a congratulations for cleaning your plate even when you’re 30 years old.
This will be one of the first of many installations in my “comfort food redone” series. It’s good food but even better. Now let’s get on with it.