Oh, hello. You didn’t think we’d run out of despair, did you?
It’s a phrase I’ve often needed to express without being able to, since I was old enough to make soup or understand despair.
When someone asks you to make shrimp cocktail for their going away party — especially when you love them — you do it.
Also, eat radishes.
Fake Summer has arrived.
How Scream Along with Billy saves our lives.
What day is it, even?
I know. I’m sorry. This is horrible. You maybe just wanted a recipe. You probably should know better by now.
It's easy to forget winter once it's in the rearview.
Some of my favorite turnips have fallen off the truck, and I'm glad you're still here.
On the crushing weight of the last year — and on letting go.
In case you, like me, still sense some nihilism around the edges of the crocuses.
