The blue moon, which reached its apex at 6:43a EDT but will rise at 8:14p EDT, is an incredibly powerful moon; if you lean toward the spooky, as I do, you should be sure to harness some of its power.
Back in January we created an incredibly stupid bracket to determine The Ultimate Super Bowl Dip. As incredibly stupid things are wont to be, it was also incredibly fun and incredibly hilarious and brought out the best and worst in just about everyone who participated.
I abhor waste. That's the thing to know about how this recipe came to be.
Because I abhor waste, I keep a large Ziploc bag in my freezer to hold vegetable scraps (onion skins, tomato cores, stems and peelings of various stripes) that I use to make stock.
I assume everyone who is in a CSA lives, like I do, in a constant state of panic. Those vegetables are challenging and judge-y in equal measure and also if anyone would like some pickles I'm practically drowning in them.
Want the recipe? Sure you do.
I love it when Martha drinks. But when Martha drinks blue drinks? So best. We're all in for a grand evening.
Many, many months ago someone asked me for a white chili recipe. I do make a mean white chili, and I'm not afraid to say so.
Share completed pieces, what you're working on, ask for help, squee amongst yourselves.
That's cross stitch, not needlepoint. If I were a meaner person, I'd also mention that's it's not very well done cross stitch, at that.
Approximately three times each day I throw a silent tantrum because I live in a loud, dirty, cramped city instead of in New Paltz, NY where I obviously belong.
Obligatory content recycling.
I really like beans. And I make 'em a lot! In allllll different ways, and then I sort of forget to write down what I did ("Oh I'll remember! It was so easy, just a bay leaf here and a shake of Liquid Smoke there, what's to even write down?!") And then I have to go clean something to work through my feelings of anger…
Bon Appétit sends me into a sputtering rage near daily, and yet I cannot quit them.
This Cape Cod-inspired coop even has a name—Chez Poulet. I generally find named homes tacky, but it turns out that chicken coops are an exception to my rule. See how you learn something new about yourself every day?!
How many hours could you spend staring at this fire pit? Several hundred, right?
Leaf of the Day: Romaine
A lot has been made this week of Levi Struass & Co.'s CEO Chip Bergh's admission that he doesn't wash his jeans. Speaking at Fortune's Brainstorm Green conference in Laguna Niguel, CA, Bergh announced that he hadn't washed the pair he was sporting in a year, and chided consumers to join him in eschewing the washing…