Monday morning: 5 Good Things

1. Soccer began again this weekend. Translation: hanging out with 4-10 year olds, Saturday morning, learning the basics of soccer. Referring, coaching, learning, stretching, loving.

2. Guys, Sam Summer is back in action, and here to stay until August.

3. Pizza night last night. Pictures to come. Including: Jennie lays  her own dough, and slides pizza into and out of oven. Success.

4. New planner. New space for planning. Planning for new things.

5. Farmer’s market: basil and rosemary plants. I cannot wait for May.

Bonus: 3 more PW recipes made. More to come.

Cilantro Patterns.

For those of you out there who maybe don’t know: I hate cilantro. I don’t know why, as I like pretty much everything else on this planet (except I cannot handle spicy food because it makes me hiccup, and I hate sneaky carrots.)

When I was in China, a terrible taste kept passing over my lips. I couldn’t figure out what it was I hated so much, until one day my roommate Laura and I went to a make-your-own bowl restaurant, and she grabbed a fistful of cilantro, adding it to her bowl. I realized that the greenery in her bowl was offensively smelly, and said, “What IS that stuff??” She said, “Ah ha! cilantro. I guess you hate cilantro.” And she was right: I do.

It’s not that I don’t try. Don’t get me wrong. I have tasted it on occasion at restaurants around town with Liz, putting some in my mouth each time just to double check. As of now, I still don’t like it. I sampled it at Cheesecake Factory with Andrew and Jeff: still don’t like it. It’s in salsa, and I eat it anyways, determined not to let it ruin my meal. I recently bought Jeff a jar of dried cilantro for him to add to meals since I never use it in our cooking, and since he LOVES cilantro.

The point is: I am trying to like it. I just can’t get behind the fact that I don’t like some leafy green some people eat every day. Who I am to judge? Aren’t I to like all things produced on this lovely planet of ours? I’ve eat SILK WORMS and SCORPION for God’s sake. I mean, ME, who eats ALL things, I don’t like a green herb? It’s absurd.

Step in Sierra.

SS sent me this article from the New York Times.

It turns out, I’m not alone in my hatred. And that it might be my brain. And not just me. Which is comforting. The article explains there are others out in the world, just like me, haters of cilantro. But apparently, to help my brain develop a new liking to cilantro, I have to deal with it. And eat it. I particularly like the last line: “If you’re looking to work on your cilantro patterns, pesto might be the place to start.”

Cilantro pesto: here I come.

What up, Kate? I think you're awesome.

This is my friend Kate. And her bf Tom. And me.

That’s her 4 years ago.


This is her last summer.

That’s me and my bests. Last summer. I love them.

Anyways, back to Kate. This is the thing: she’s amazing. wonderful. She’ll watch an entire season of any TV show you want in one sitting, ice cream and snacks in hand. She’ll also finish an entire tub of hummus and celery sticks with you on her roof over a pitcher of sangria. She’ll also go to the museum with you, and have something intelligent to say about just about every artist there. And even artists who aren’t. She’ll watch Oscar-nominated films, indie films, and bad chick flicks with you, and enjoy them all. She’ll defend you to the death, cut someone with a shank for you, if she needs to, and makes sure to always say “please” and “thank you” and “Is there more coffee?” She’s pretty much my fave. And she, my friends, is also a ridiculously talented writer. (I know, you’re not surprised. I wasn’t, either.)

She has been published here. Go read it. I’ll wait.

SO good, right? I just love her. Check her blog out, here. She’s totally worth it. I promise. (Like an extra set of crunches, or that extra handful of cranberries on your morning cereal, or that last episode of Full House about the time they lose Comet.)

You can thank me later.