One of my more recently-realized goals for my 24th year has been to educate myself more about food. I’m a pretty decent cook but I’m no chef. My knife skills, preparation, and presentation techniques definitely leave room for improvement. So when my friend (and fellow food blogger) Kayla suggested we get together a take a class at Brooklyn Kitchen, I jumped at the chance. The schedule for August had some exciting offerings, and we eagerly decided on a Greek Dinner class.
I’ve never been one to mess with a good thing or break a routine. So it comes as no surprise that I’m the same way when it comes to restaurants. When I fall hard and fast for one specific restaurant, I want to go there weekly, at the very least. Rosemary’s in the West Village is my new favorite spot, and I must say, I haven’t felt this way about a restaurant in a very long time.
Let me count the reasons why I love Rosemary’s… The space is airy, open, and bright. There is a garden on the roof that supplies many of the vegetables and fresh herbs included in dishes on the menu (you can take a peak at while you wait for your meal). The staff is incredibly friendly and knowledgeable. The prices are ridiculously reasonable by New York standards. The wine list is easy-to-decode, glasses for $10, bottles for $40. And the food… But first, the wine.
There are three points that I require all of my favorite summer dessert recipes hit: Easy, quick, and fruity. Since I refuse to cook anything elaborate in the summer, my desserts are just the same: simple, sweet bites that feature seasonal produce. I saw these peach galettes with ricotta on Cup of Jo, and I knew I had to give them a try last weekend.
It’s been way too long since I’ve posted. But what can I say… Summer has gotten the best of me. Between summer Fridays, going to the beach whenever possible, and dining al fresco, I haven’t spent as much time in front of my computer. But I’ll have more posts coming soon, including the best kale salad I’ve ever had (and believe me, I’ve had a lot of kale), and my favorite NYC sandwich shop. In the meantime, here’s a glimpse of what I’ve been enjoying this summer.
This is my first dessert that I’ve featured on this blog, largely due to the fact that this is the first dessert I’ve made in a very long time. I’m not much of a baker. I’m pretty good at it, but I don’t actually enjoy it all that much. Given the choice, I much rather cook. But truth be told, the real reason that I don’t bake often is because I always make a mess. I don’t like cleaning up messes, which is why I (subconsciously) reserve baking for when I am at my parent’s house where there is a plethora of counter space, and somehow, the messes always clean themselves up (thanks, Ma).
I’ll start by saying: there are some things that just taste like summer. I think that this salad is the epitome of summer. So make it now! Eat it outside on your patio (or stoop, or fire escape) whilst sipping on your favorite seasonal beer.
This salad came to be quite randomly. Once in a while, I’ll pick up an avocado or two without having a plan for them. Sadly, they usually go to waste because when I want to eat them, they aren’t ripe yet, and when I remember that I have them, they are ripe beyond edibility. Luckily, that wasn’t the case this week when I grabbed two avocados (and watermelon) from the produce section.
When my well-traveled coworker recommended Marmalade for dinner in San Juan, I didn’t think much of it. I figured it would be a decent meal, even though she reassured me it was one of the best restaurants in the city. I grossly underestimated Marmalade — it was one of the better (top 3, perhaps) dining experiences I’ve ever enjoyed. I was not expecting to be craving their white bean soup days later… but here I am…
This weekend, I fell in love with San Juan. Particularily, Old San Juan. Old San Juan is one square mile of colored buildings, blue cobblestones, and beautiful ocean views. I loved everything about it…
ced coffee is one of those things that makes me indescribably happy. It seems strange, silly even, but iced coffee, and more importantly “iced coffee weather,” is always guaranteed to put a smile on my face and a caffeine-induced pep in my step.
I’ll admit it. I’m a complete and total snob when it comes to Italian food. But it’s not my fault that no restaurant pasta dish could ever surpass my 100-year-old great grandmother’s homemade pasta, my mother’s meatballs, or my grandpa’s beloved rigatoni. Needless to say, I was skeptical when one of my college friends raved about the best Italian restaurant in the city, which also happened to be in our neighborhood, Pisticci. So we strolled up Broadway one sunny, warm evening with empty stomachs in tow. This was something I had to taste to believe.