Pardon me if I sound like a crotchety old woman*, but it just blows my mind how kids today will grow up in a world where high-speed internet, DVRs, smartphones, iPads, and the like are more or less the norm. It’s funny to think that just a decade and a half ago, cell phones were a rare luxury, and if you had one it was far clunkier than most cordless landline phones are today** (think Zach Morris brick phone).
*In case you’re wondering, I’m just shy of my 24th birthday (it’s this Saturday!!), hardly advanced of age.
**Sidenote: how many of you even have a landline today? We have one because it came bundled with the cable and internet, but have yet to plug in an actual phone.
In what can only be explained as a temporary bout of madness, Andrew and I spent the last week on a juice cleanse/detox. I’ve never been one for extreme measures; generally speaking I don’t diet, pull all-nighters, or have strongly polarized religious or political views, but rather choose moderation as my default position. And yet, swayed by Andrew’s enthusiasm, and the promise of glasses filled to the brim with juicy nectar, I spent six days feeding our new kitchen beast all the fruits and vegetables it could devour.
Sometimes I feel like I should change the name of this blog to I LoveSmittenKitchen.com; more often than not, the recipes there are inspiring, well written, and above all delicious. So it’s little surprise that many of the recipes I’ve written about here came to me via Deb. Most of her recipes are near perfect written as is, so I’ll only make minor tweaks, but sometimes I just can’t leave well enough alone.
Citrus season in the US has always seemed a little bit bizarre to me. Many of the desserts and beverages I associate most with summer are laden with the juice and zest of these winter beauties: lemon bars, key lime pie, lemonade, and margaritas, to name a few. Perhaps it’s nature’s reminder during the dreariest days of winter that the sun will once again shine bright, and warm the earth with it’s generous rays. Though it likely has more to do with the physiology of citrus plants and their fruiting cycle, ever the optimist, I tend to lean towards whimsy and romance, and therefore choose to think in terms of the former explanation.
I’d wager that few would rate their middle-school years as a favorite time in their lives. An awkward period at best, its a time for trying on new identities and seeing what sticks; throw in puberty (or lack of signs thereof) and you’ve got a recipe for angst and anxiety aplenty. In addition to the usual woes of that age, I started off 6th grade as the new girl in school. Apprehensive to say the least, I chose to take the optimistic route and take it as an opportunity for reinvention. Why not try on a new persona, or at least name for size?