I find that I work well within boundaries to a certain extend. When something becomes a chore, like something I have to make or do, it always ends up on the bottom. However, creating a list of fun activities or restaurants has always worked well. On the occasional free weekend when my husband and I have nothing to do, we usually do just that—nothing. We forget about the museum exhibits or parks we want to visit, the hikes or beach trips. Sometimes there seems to be too many options so we feel paralyzed and lazy and just do nothing.
Still looking for the perfect gift for your favorite chef or baker? Well look no further! Living local isn’t just about local produce and reducing your carbon footprint, it’s also about supporting the local community. If you haven’t noticed, small businesses and artisinal shops are on the rise in Brooklyn. From DIY kits to rooftop salt and adorable kitchen decor, I’ve put together a list of my favorite local finds.
Heeeeelllllllllllllloooooooooooooo! For those of you who think I fell off the face of the earth, I’m SO SORRY. I’m back, though it may take another week or so until things get back to normal. For those of you who are thinking, “What? Melissa was gone for almost two weeks?” Well, I know who’s getting cut off this year’s Christmas list.
We moved last weekend. Still in Brooklyn, really just a few blocks from our old place, but now in a house, not an apartment building, and with a bathroom that doesn’t make you think of bumblebees. It’s been close to seven years since I’ve really moved. I mean, we went from a one bedroom to a two bedroom in our old place, but it was literally right across the hall. We moved everything over the course of 3 weeks and could take our time placing things exactly where we wanted them. Real moving is tough. People talk about the packing and lifting heavy furniture, but no one reminds you that it will disrupt your life for weeks, maybe even months.
Generally I love writing my foodie penpal reveals, but this one’s a bit bittersweet. It’s a harsh reminder that August is over and summer’s coming to a close. This summer was far more stressful, yet productive, as compared to last year. Free time was limited and while I didn’t put up as much as I would have liked (yet…), it’s an improvement over last year’s “too much canning, what do I do with all of this?” panic. While I mourn summer’s close, I welcome fall’s beginnings. The air has been light with a slight crispness at night, signalling cooler weather is not far away.
Fall is my favorite season. It signals apple picking, soup worthy evenings, brilliantly colored leaves and of course, my birthday. Though as wonderful as it is, part of me always has a sour feeling in my gut, knowing that winter lurks nearby. Spring and fall. If I could design a climate with low humidity, convenient rainfalls, flurries, not blizzards and temperatures between 45-80 degrees year round, the world would be perfect. Oh well. Enough lamenting about the weather. You’re here for the reveal.
I’m quiet and tend to be a bit awkward. I prefer small groups of close friends to large gatherings, listening to someone else’s story rather than having the spotlight on me. Our wedding day was a bit overwhelming for me because there was really no way to escape being the center of attention. I think it was the white dress that gave it away. It’s not that I’m closed off, I just don’t always volunteer details. I open up to people through food. I share my soul. A basket of fresh-baked muffins can express “I’m sorry” more than any combination of words I could string together. I’d rather eat in than go out for holidays. I spend hours cooking for the ones I love, especially my husband, hoping that the meaning of my intricate meal is clear. I’d rather share ingredients than emotions.