You would have thought I would have eaten a breakfast of champions before going to my new job at Yahoo Food, right? Nope.
Tag Archives | egg
You must have plenty of eggs lying around your house after Easter.
Easter is this weekend. Got me thinking about my holidays of yore. It was usually the end of Spring Break, so I wasn’t too happy about that.
I was away for work in Miami for a few days, and ate my face off on South Beach in between events and meetings and writing by the pool with the warm sun beaming down on my skin. Now I’m back in New York City. In the cold. With no pool.
In order to satisfy my end of the 300 sandwiches challenge, I had to make sandwiches that E wanted to eat. This did not include spinach or avocado.
I like kale. My fiance does not.
I’m good at foraging chocolate. Shoe sales. Plane tickets to tropical locations. Fresh vegetables in Prospect Park? Not so much.
Oh, bacon jam at work.
E and I have plenty to do in the week before Thanksgiving.
E and I were both emotional over breakfast yesterday.
E has a criminal past. He’s a towel stealer.
E is raising the children in our herb garden to be bright, healthy young sprouts. The basil has grown into full, leafy stalks. Our dill is tall enough to come up to our knees. The mint is as big as a rose bush and our cilantro has flowered. I’m so proud of my little father. […]
E and I are planning a trip to Miami in a few weeks, partly for work, partly for play. This will involve time on the beach in very little clothing, which will expose parts of our body that may not be in the tightest form.
E’s assessment of this morning’s sandwich: “Boring. Unimaginative. Lazy. It’s like you sat on the couch and ate Cheetos instead of making me a nice breakfast. I have nothing nice to say.”
According to E and I, a burrito counted as a sandwich. Simple math, people: Burrito= Wrap. Wrap=sandwich. Breakfast burritos were supposed to be easy. But it all went haywire when I started cooking.
The night before the end of Fashion Week, I capped of a full day of covering events and shows with a late meal at Harry Cipriani (where, in fact, I spotted Naomi Campbell near the bar). When I finally made it home, E was already in bed. But I didn’t head to the bedroom to […]
“Croque madame,” E suggested over text message. “You eat ham?” I asked. I learn something new about my boyfriend every day. I’m not too fond of white creamy sauces (my thighs expand at the mere sight of them), nor was I looking forward to having to top this cheesy sandwich with a runny egg. But […]
E woke up at 7 am on Sunday morning. I needed a few more minutes of shuteye, and didn’t stumble to the kitchen until an hour later. “Coffee,” I muttered. “Breakfast!” he chirped, but hadn’t started cooking. I looked in our refrigerator and noticed we had more than a dozen eggs, plus we had fresh […]