Sometimes I give the kids cake for dinner, and this was no exception.  A dollop of yogurt or a splash of cream doesn’t hurt.

It’s the same with food.  A couple of years ago, my best friend and I had a book event in New York City.  We read and signed and mingled and then escaped to a shoebox-sized restaurant on the Lower East Side where we laughed ourselves silly and savored each bite of this salad.  Each mouthful was fresh, balanced between the barely wilted kale, the sweet plump raisins, and the salty parmesan.

Later, we recreated the salad when we were both too miserable to eat it.

And after that we made it again in Mexico, asking at the organic farm for kale even though our host insisted kale is what the animals eat.

And now I make it for myself, for an easy lunch or side dish, amazed at the planet of time and events hat have happened since the first bite.

That restaurant has since closed.

When you are alone during the day and I’m at preschool, are you lonely?

Is it true that one day the earth will run out of water?

Do you love Daddy more now or more when you first met him?

Why do I have to wear underwear?

How come you haven’t made that yummy bread in a long time?

I’ll be posting some quick lunches that go beyond the sandwich – not that there’s anything wrong with a sandwich! Only, I grow weary of bread with things on it.  So I turn to fast, hearty, simple fare to get me from one page to the next.

Given the choice, I would choose chocolate chip cookies.

If we had the time and calorie deficit, we could debate for hours over dough, chip size, semi-sweet? dark chocolate?, how much brown sugar versus white, whole eggs or yolks, letting the dough rest overnight or longer, or eating the dough plain.

In the interest of time, I’ll show you the two we tested this weekend: Chewy, Crispy Chocolate Chip Cookies and the larger, crispier Molasses Chocolate Chip.

May your weekend be filled with cheers.

The white lasagna is a big hit in my family as there is some debate as to the “grossness” of tomatoes.  Growing up in the UK, sauceless lasagna was the norm.  Try it as a variation…

“Give me Gershwin and I’d be fine,” he yelled over the music’s din.  Hits from the 60s and 80s played and while there was a beat, my husband could not find it.  At least with his feet.  Or his hands.  All I could do was laugh so hard I buckled over.  I’m what they call a crappy dancer, but my husband has me beat by a mile.

When I stood up he smiled and said, “Hey – I can throw a ball really hard.”

It’s important to know your strengths even in times of weakness.*

And if eggplant is your weakness, don’t skip this dish – you won’t taste the eggplant much…

In college, times were such that in the gym there was a cigarette machine.

And I just returned from Austin, Texas, where my friend and I were lucky enough to find pecan vending machine that boasted “24 Hour Pecan Service” from the highway roadside.

You just never know where you’ll have a pecan emergency, I guess.

“Oh, no,” I said and when the person looked surprised I had to explain.

Here is what I do: I have 4 kids who know to give up their seat on a train for someone old or injured or pregnant, 3 businesses that put good in the world even if they don’t make me able to fly 1st class, 1 beast of a dog who never growls, and 1 spouse who can play Chopin AND Air Supply and encourages me to sing even when I want to go to bed.

Here is what I do not do: keep bees, grow my own vegetables, or manage to keep more than 4 houseplants alive at any one time.  And I should note that one houseplant is on loan from my mother.  She let me borrow it ten years ago when I was staging our old flat to sell it.  I have not returned it and despite my best efforts to kill it, the plant is alive and well and living on the bookshelf.  The three other plants are ones I carried, wrapped in wet paper towel, on a plane from my grandma’s house in Florida.  Two aloe babies and one spider fern.  They are very small (like Grandma was) and forgiving (which she wasn’t) and now that she’s gone I feel pressure to keep the plants alive.

That’s just it. I am busy keeping alive all these people and businesses and I can’t possibly have to go check on bees and worry about them. Anyway, I’d probably be the batty lady who reads to her bees if I had them.

So, for now, no raised beds of veggies and no beehives.

PS If it makes you feel better, my friend harvested this honey from his own bees.  AND his bees speak Italian.