Molasses Sugar Cookies

This is my dream cookie. I love a soft, chewy, ginger-molasses cookie with a big glass of milk. My mom never made these types of cookies growing up. She was more of a strict choco chip cookie and brownie baker. Occasionally a cake from a box on a birthday. She had some friends who would bring these cookies over on the holidays, and I would always eat them all before anyone else could get their hands on them. (I wish I could say that I no longer greedily eat all of the cookies in one sitting, but it’s not true. I was recently told to stop eating all of the cookies I had made for my husband for his birthday. I CAN’T HELP THAT MY COOKIES ARE SO GOOD.)

Summer Corn and Basil Salad and Happy 4th of July

My family is big on family reunions. My mom’s side of the family has reunions every year at state parks in upstate New York. My dad’s side of the family had them every year when I was young and my great-grandmother was still alive. However, after she passed, we didn’t really do formal “reunions” as much. We all still got together frequently though as my dad has a somewhat smaller family. In the past 8-10 years though, the family has really grown as my generation has gotten married and had children. We really needed that formal “reunion” time in order to have a time when everyone in the extended family could get together. This year the reunion was over the 4th of July in Beaver, Pa, where my parents, my paternal grandmother, my dad’s brother, and my dad’s sister-in-law all live. Not everyone in the family could make it, but we had a pretty good showing of people from all generations! 

Walnut Pesto and Being Grateful

Yesterday was the six year anniversary of my uncle’s passing. His death was really hard on his children and wife as well as my father (his brother). My cousin Alison (and daughter to this uncle), lives close to us in Durham. Yesterday she came and helped Rajat and I clean our old apartment before we turn the keys over. Before my cousin arrived to help us clean, Rajat and I had gotten into a stupid argument. My cousin could tell that we were unhappy with each other, and she gave us such simple advice on a day that I am certain was painful for her: “Be grateful for each other.” It was a heartfelt reminder that there is so much in life to be grateful for, and we often take for granted the things we have in front of us. 

Espresso Freddo

Owning a house is a lot of work. I know people tell you that, but in my mind I was like “yeah yeah yeah” because I am a brat and think I know everything. Everyone was right. It is a lot of work. We planted grass seed in the back which is coming in well…in patches. My husband bought an axe (God help us all) and chopped down some very small trees. I have been working on flowers and a vegetable garden. We bought a lawn mower and now mow our own lawn! It’s all so crazy.

Spinach Parantha

A few days before my husband and I got married, I stayed at my sister-in-law’s house. This was my first real introduction to Indian cooking. There were many new tastes and textures, but I was most intrigued and in awe of the bread making. In all the time my husband and I dated, I had never once seen my husband make bread or heard him talk about making bread. Yet in those days before marriage, he skillfully made all types of breads without measuring or a recipe. To say I am the least skilled bread maker on my Indian side of the family is and understatement. I am playing catch up in a game where everyone else has a lifetime head start. However, I am slowly learning different recipes and building my confidence. One day maybe my own children will be in awe of my own bread skills. That day isn’t today.

Root Vegetable Pot Pie

Pot pie has always been a comfort food. When I was a child and my parents went out-of-town, my mom always stocked the fridge full of frozen meals for the babysitter. Hungry Man TV dinners and frozen pot pies were favorites of ours. I don’t crave TV dinners or frozen pot pies these days (I’m a food snob, whatevs), but I do find the warmth and aroma of a homemade pot pie so comforting. This pot pie is a totally vegged-out grown-up version of the classic made with white wine, fresh herbs, and some parsnips. Yum!

Stuffed Shells

I’m surprised at how many people have not heard of stuffed shells in North Carolina and in Utah. I’m beginning to wonder if this is a north east thing. Growing up, our neighbors brought us stuffed shells every time my mom had a baby or something else happened that warranted a neighbor making a meal. These were also commonly served at weddings or other banquet style dinners. The point being, I never really thought of this dish as a “blog-worthy meal.” But, everyone seemed to enjoy these, so I thought I should give this recipe a shout out.

Superbowl Sabudana Vadas

 

This year’s Superbowl was exciting for us since the Panthers were playing. I personally was rather sad and bitter about the Steelers not being there, but I rallied and gave some support to my current state of residence. (But in my heart I was singing “Here we go Steelers, here we go!” the whole time). Rajat and I went to my sister-in-law’s house and from there we went to watch the game at a friend’s house all together. However, before we left for the friend’s house, my husband made us the most amazing sabudana vadas for a snack. Well, it was meant to be a snack, but we ended up eating a meal size amount of these puppies.

Blueberry Muffins

Since I was a kid, one of my favorite breakfast treats has been a blueberry muffin. I love the sweet cake-like texture and the bursts of acid from the blueberries. Since my brother-in-law was out of town a few weeks ago, I wanted to make something that I could share with my sister-in-law who was on her own with her son until her husband came back. I had been craving blueberry muffins and wanting to try a new recipe, and the recipe below was the result.

Tomato Chutney and India

We got back from India on January 5th, and I already miss it. After three weeks in India, I had a rhythm to my day. I had mastered bathing from a bucket, I was understanding what people were saying, I wasn’t afraid of riding in the car, Cows in the street no longer shocked me, I even had saris damnit! Coming back to America felt like waking up to a dream I had. I desperately wanted to close my eyes and find the place I was in before, but of course, it was gone as all dreams are in the morning.