Buttermilk-Braised Brussels Sprouts with Lemon, Chili, and Garlic.

I’ve said it time and time again — I’ve never met a Brussels sprout I didn’t love.

[Leaf Parade. Buttermilk-Braised Brussels Sprouts with Lemon, Chili, and Garlic.]

For a handful of reasons, the Brussels sprout is a vegetable that holds a special place in my heart. For years, the sprout was glorified with the veil of nostalgia — it was a food I remember my father loving very much, and a food I undertook to love right along with him.

[Leaf Parade. Buttermilk-Braised Brussels Sprouts with Lemon, Chili, and Garlic.]

These days, though, the Brussels sprout is somewhat of a lucky charm to me. I know it will sound crazy to you, but crossmyheart I swear that Brussels sprouts have changed my life in real and important ways. And for the better — so much for the better.

[Leaf Parade. Buttermilk-Braised Brussels Sprouts with Lemon, Chili, and Garlic.]

After making some buttermilk biscuits a few weeks ago, I found myself desperately in need of new uses for my leftover buttermilk. This is my new favorite way to use Brussels sprouts and my new favorite way to use buttermilk. A productive experiment, after all.

[Read more...]

Paleo Waffles with Blueberry + Preserved Lemon Maple Syrup.

I am a long-time admirer of the waffle.

[Leaf Parade. Paleo Waffles with Blueberry + Preserved Lemon Maple Syrup.]

Tender and soft in places, but formidable and mighty where it matters, the waffle is a food consciously devoted to its purpose: syrup entrapment. Studded with crags and ridges, it is a thing defined by what it does, and it is lovely for so doing.

[Leaf Parade. Paleo Waffles with Blueberry + Preserved Lemon Maple Syrup.]

We could all stand to learn a lot from the waffle.

[Read more...]

Happy little Sunday things.

Hello and welcome to Sunday. Happy Sunday reading!

[Leaf Parade. Happy little Sunday things.]

  • Bread is beautiful. ()
  • This coffee infographic. ()
  • Pan-Fried Lemony Artichokes. Oh yes, plz. ()
  • Raccoons are the sneakiest. ()
  • National Grilled Cheese Month is my favorite month. And here’s why. ()
  • This typewriter art is everything.()
  • Chocolate Stout Cake OMGOMG. ()
  • Pap Rap. Hashtag girl power. ()
  • Kombucha cocktails. It’s happening, guys. ()

[Leaf Parade. Happy little Sunday things.]

Cheesy Quiche with Sausage and Peppers.

Lately there’s been a lot to do. As I mentioned earlier this week, I’m making a big move at the end of May (Boston to Mississippi — oh my!) and there are oh-so-many things to take care in the meantime.

[Leaf Parade. Cheesy Quiche with Sausage and Peppers.]

In the spirit of always being prepared, I have already packed up (nearly) the entirety of my apartment, have put in a change of address, and have thought a lot about the kinds of things I’ll need and want in a new city where houses have yards and public transportation is not a thing. I’m looking forward to planting a vegetable garden and buying a car, but it’s more than that. With more space and a slower day-to-day, life changes — it evolves. I wonder what that looks like for me — and I can’t wait to find out, because I have a feeling it’s going to be just what I need.

[Leaf Parade. Cheesy Quiche with Sausage and Peppers.]

I’m excited to start my life there — to begin Act II of this crazy/beautiful/wonderful life that I’m living. I’m excited to braid that life into another life and to watch and see how that works, to wait and see what that new life looks like for the both of us. To take such an active role in one’s own path is an empowering feeling, and I am proud to finally be putting myself first in this way.

[Leaf Parade. Cheesy Quiche with Sausage and Peppers.]

But I’m not quite there yet. Until 1 June arrives and we pull up to the house in Hattiesburg, there’s a long and somewhat strange waiting period to sit through. It’s full of late nights spent wide awake in bed, too excited about the future to fall asleep. And it’s full of meals that are good and simple and make use of the kitchen gear that’s not yet packed away. Like this quiche — this wondrous, cheese-laden quiche. Long live the in-between times that inspire such cheese-encrusted magic.

[Read more...]

Strawberry Goat’s Milk Ice Cream.

Sometimes it’s a very good thing to look inside the life you’re living — and then gut it. Pull out all the pieces and then rearrange them again. Put those pieces in new and different places — add to them, take away from them, reimagine everything

[Leaf Parade. Strawberry Goat’s Milk Ice Cream.]

I am in the process of doing this. And I am doing it not because anything in my life wasn’t already good. On the contrary; this past year or so has been -hands down- the most productive and exhilarating year of my life. I have done things I am proud of; I’ve created, I’ve thought through, I’ve been my own monarchy. I’ve been emboldened by this year, and I wouldn’t trade these experiences for anything.

[Leaf Parade. Strawberry Goat’s Milk Ice Cream.]

But a year ago, at the start of this, I imagined my life as a very flat plane — beautiful and simple to see. It was a clear path with a clear horizon — but was perhaps too discernible, perhaps too effable. What I’ve discovered the past six months or so is that I don’t want that anymore. I want big, beautiful, adventurous hills that ebb and flow and show me to a million places I didn’t know I wanted to see but now must.

[Leaf Parade. Strawberry Goat’s Milk Ice Cream.]

And I’ve found those hills — in a person. I’ve found a person that I want to hurry home to. And when this happens to you — when you find somebody that you want to hurry home to, you do something about it. You make home mean something different than what it’s meant to you before. You make your home that person, and, if you can, you go to them. You hurry home.

[Leaf Parade. Strawberry Goat’s Milk Ice Cream.]

And so, at the end of May, I’m leaving this home in Boston and heading to the deep, deep south of southern Mississippi. There I will boil crawfish, exist in a state of perpetual sunburn, and make a whole lot of strawberry ice cream — his favorite. And I just can’t wait for it all.

[Read more...]

Happy little Sunday things.

Hey, it’s Sunday. Happy Sunday reading!

[Leaf Parade. Happy little Sunday things.]

  • If this gnocchi recipe from Lady and Pups doesn’t inspire you to make gnocchi this weekend, then there is probably no hope for you. ()
  • I loved this body love piece from Metamorphicity. ()
  • Homemade yogurt kefir. Yes. ()
  • Let’s think about gender. ()
  • White Pizza Grilled Cheese. DIDYA HEAR THAT GUYS? ()
  • Everyday objects redesigned to make you uncomfortable. ()
  • Let me at these Quinoa-Crusted Chicken Tenders. ()
  • Important life lessons learned from pizza. ()
  • These Rhubarb and Rye Cinnamon Tartlets are fueling my rye obsession. Must. ()

[Leaf Parade. Happy little Sunday things.]

Mashed Peas With Lemon and Mascarpone.

I have a lot of respect for frozen peas — but it hasn’t always been this way.

[Leaf Parade. Mashed Peas With Lemon and Mascarpone.]

When we were growing up, peas made an appearance on many-a-dinner plate, and I just hated that. I hated their menacing greenness, the way they threatened the carb-lihood of the neighboring mashed potatoes. There they always were, on the plate, so scrimp and butter-less, so without-salt, so without-cheese, so pointless.

It wasn’t until much later in life when I began to appreciate the inherent pea-ness of the pea. It’s not a stark thing, as I once thought. Simple, yes — but verdantly so, elegantly so. Oh, that simple, verdant, elegant frozen pea. How I love it.

[Leaf Parade. Mashed Peas With Lemon and Mascarpone.]

Here I’ve added some butter and some cheese — but I’ve kept these peas the star of their own show. What I love about mashed peas is that all the extras only add to that magnificent pea-ness of the pea. There’s no cover up or distraction here. Just goodness and comfort — and it’s nice to finally find such comfort in a food that haunted my dinner plate for so many years.

[Read more...]

Flaky Buttermilk Biscuits.

I used to have ideas — lots of ideas. And for a long time, I mistook having ideas for having plans.

[Leaf Parade. Flaky Buttermilk Biscuits.]

Until I substituted the ideas for the plans, I never even realized my discrepancy. I crawled inside of my life — felt around to learn the height of its ceiling, the width of its walls. I learned how large it was by letting it tell me how large it was. And I didn’t ask questions about it because I didn’t know there were questions to be asked.

[Leaf Parade. Flaky Buttermilk Biscuits.] [Leaf Parade. Flaky Buttermilk Biscuits.]

I never asked myself: “What size is your life?”

[Read more...]

Happy birthday, Melissa!

A happy birthday to my sister, Melissa — a truly special little lady and the only person in the world who has gotten away with pulling my hair more than once. I love you and hope you have a great day!

[Leaf Parade.] [Leaf Parade.] [Leaf Parade.]

Happy little Sunday things.

Hello, beautiful Sunday-ers. Happy Sunday reading!

[Leaf Parade. Happy little Sunday things.]

  • I believe in these Chocolate Cupcakes with Fresh Mint Buttercream. ()
  • Loving this love. ()
  • I must confess: I have pizza on the brain. And burrata. Also on the brain. ()
  • ‘Dressing Optimistically’ Trend Proves that Winter Has Driven Us All Insane. ()
  • Take me back down south, and feed me this there, please. ()
  • Judy Blume and Lena Dunham have curated a reading list, just for us. (Of course they have.) ()
  • Seek refuge in a bowl of this — Meatballs with Zucchini Noodles. So simple and good. ()
  • Take a moment out of your busy Sunday to appreciate this very tasteful(/tasty) piece of Food Porn. ()
  • I can haz fancy-time steak with porcini compound butter? Do want. ()

[Leaf Parade. Happy little Sunday things.]

 

sealander holthaus@mailxu.com
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