Saturday, 11 April 2015

last night

We sat staring out to sea, our toes buried in the sand, talking about the things we know now that we didn't know then. We passed a bottle of rosé between us as the sun sank down behind the mountains and agreed that never before had there been an April quite so filled with magic.


Blood-Orange Curd Sundaes with Olive Oil and Sea Salt 
Adapted from Bon Appetit, April 2015

It's early for a freckled face and exposed limbs, but stranger things have happened. I'm taking this weather as a sign that sundae season has officially arrived.

3 large eggs, room temperature
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon finely grated blood orange zest
½ cup fresh blood orange juice
½ cup fresh lemon juice
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into pieces
Vanilla ice cream, softly whipped cream, olive oil, and flaky sea salt (for serving)

Whisk eggs, sugar, and vanilla in a medium bowl until pale and thick, about 4 minutes. Bring blood orange zest and juice, lemon juice, and salt to a simmer in a small saucepan over medium heat. Whisking constantly, gradually add half of juice mixture to egg mixture, then whisk egg mixture into remaining juice mixture in saucepan. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until bubbles subside and mixture is thick enough to coat spoon, about 3 minutes.
Off heat, whisk in butter a few pieces at a time, incorporating completely before adding more. Transfer curd to a medium bowl and press plastic wrap directly onto surface. Chill until cold, at least 3 hours.
To serve, spoon ice cream into bowls and top with curd and whipped cream. Drizzle with oil and sprinkle with salt.

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

sight unseen

Earlier this year I had a chance to work with the magical Jennilee Marigomen on a feature for Sight Unseen.  The feature was posted today, and you can read it here. And below you will find some of the beautiful photos Jennilee took during her studio visit with me.

I'm still pinching myself.









Tuesday, 3 March 2015

ATTN:

To the women I know and the women I don't

This calling out, tearing down, and rooting for the failure of our contemporaries needs to stop. If you care at all about gender equality, you are best to acknowledge that if we can't get past the vicious and brutal scrutiny of others, we are not moving forward. Constructive criticism is good, callous criticism is not. 
I will choose to celebrate in the successes of other woman, following the logic that a success for one of us is a success for us all. We have a responsibility to come together and stand as a community that chooses to build women up, rather than tear them down. This doesn't mean we have to be best friends, or even like each other very much, but it requires us to put aside our jealousy, our judgements, and our hate so that we, as females, can achieve every opportunity that has ever been denied to us because of our sex. 



While you're at it, I would suggest brushing up on Roxane Gay's 13 Rules For Female Friendship.

Currently
Reading this
Listening to this

Thursday, 12 February 2015

real talk

Today I am thankful for Brian Eno.
"People in the arts often want to aim for the biggest, most obvious target, and hit it smack in the bull's eye. Of course with everybody else aiming there as well that makes it very hard and expensive to hit.
I prefer to shoot the arrow, then paint the target around it. You make the niches in which you finally reside."

From here on out, I'm painting my own target.

Whole Wheat Sablés with Cacao Nibs
Slightly adapted from Alice Medrich’s Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy Melt-in-Your-Mouth Cookies

These cookies are addictingly nutty due to the use of whole wheat flour and cacao nibs. They are complex and sophisticated, and a perfect accompaniment to afternoon tea (or on their own as a midnight snack). 

2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
14 Tbsp. salted butter, softened
½ cup sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/3 cup roasted cacao nibs

In a medium bowl, with a large spoon or an electric mixer, beat the butter with the sugar, salt, and vanilla until smooth and creamy but not fluffy, about 1 minute (with the mixer). Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula, and add the nibs. Beat briefly to incorporate. Add the flour, and mix until just incorporated. Scrap the dough into a mass and, if necessary, knead it a little with your hands to make sure that the flour is completely incorporated. Form the dough into a 12-by-2-inch log. Wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight.

Set racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven, and preheat the oven to 350°F. Line 2 cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Use a sharp knife to cut the cold dough log into ¼-inch-thick slices. Place the cookies at least 1 ½ inches apart on the prepared sheet pans.

Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, or until the cookies are light golden brown at the edges, rotating the pans from top to bottom and front to back halfway through the baking time. Cool the cookies for a minute on the pans, then transfer them (with or without their parchment) to a rack to cool completely. Repeat with remaining dough.

These cookies are good on the first day, but they’re best with a little age, after at least a day or two. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to a month.

Yield: about 48 cookies

currently
listening to this
reading this
eating this

Friday, 6 February 2015

know it

I surround myself with people who accept their humanness - our abilities as people to hurt and be hurt, make mistakes, and think terrible thoughts. This is REAL LIFE, and yet it is something completely counter to the carefully curated, well-groomed lives we portray on the internet.

I'm here to remind you of this: You fuck up, and I fuck up. We do it well and we do it often. This is the thread that connects us.

You and me. 

Sunday, 1 February 2015

these days

January floated right by me. Despite adhering to a strict schedule, there still doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day. Between studio time, responding to emails, attending meetings, volunteering, and slowly editing my way through a pile of images that have been on my plate for way too long, I keep finding that the clock strikes midnight about five hours before I need it to. I often wonder if me quitting my adult job is completely reckless and irresponsible. My friends are talking marriage, babies, and mortgages and all I can think about is creating, despite the comfort of a steady paycheque. For the first time ever, I feel like I am where I'm supposed to be. Come hell or high water, I'm clinging to that feeling.


Thai Red Lentil Soup with Aromatic Chile Oil
Adapted from Plenty More
You'll make more chile oil than you need for the soup, which means that everything you cook from here on out will be covered in the stuff. It's crazy good. The chili oil will keep covered and refrigerated for up to a month. 
For the Soup 
1 tablespoon sunflower oil
1 medium onion, finely sliced

1 ½ tablespoon Red Thai Curry Paste
2 lemongrass stalks, give them a bash to split them a bit
12 dried lime leaves 
250g red lentils
600ml water
1 lime, juice only
1 ½ tablespoon soy sauce
Small handful of fresh coriander, roughly chopped
Season with salt and pepper
Chilli Oil
50ml sunflower oil
1 shallot, roughly chopped
1 garlic clove, roughly chopped
a thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
½ red chilli, chopped
½ star anise
1 teaspoon chilli powder
1 teaspoon tomato puree
½ lemon, zest only 
First make the chile oil. Heat 2 tablespoons of the sunflower oil in a small saucepan. Add the shallot, garlic, ginger, chile, star anise, and curry powder and fry over low heat for 5 minutes, stirring from time to time, until the shallot is soft. Add the tomato paste and cook gently for 2 minutes. Stir in the remaining oil and the lemon zest and simmer very gently for 30 minutes. Leave to cool and then strain through a cheesecloth-lined sieve.
For the soup, bring a small pan of water to boil and throw in the sugar snap peas. Cook for 90 seconds, drain, refresh under cold water, and set aside to dry. Once cool, cut them on the diagonal into slices 1/16-inch/2-mm thick.

Heat the sunflower oil in a large pot and add the onion. Cook over low heat, with a lid on, for 10 to 15 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the onion is completely soft and sweet. Stir in the red curry paste and cook for 1 minute. Add the lemongrass, lime leaves, red lentils, and 3 cups/700 ml water. Bring to a boil, turn down the heat to low, and simmer for 15-20 minutes, until the lentils are completely soft.

Remove the soup from the heat and take out and discard the lemongrass and lime leaves. Use a blender to process the soup until it is completely smooth. Add the coconut milk, lime juice, soy sauce, and ½ teaspoon salt and stir. Return the soup to medium heat, and once the soup is almost boiling, ladle into bowls. Scatter the snap peas on top, sprinkle with cilantro, and finish with ½ teaspoon chile oil drizzled over each portion.

Currently:
reading (and bawling my way through) this
listening to this
dreaming about this

Monday, 19 January 2015

it is the way it is

I want to be okay with seeing bits and pieces instead of the whole. To notice particles of dust floating through the air and to leave it at that. It doesn't really matter where they decide to settle. They are here, and so am I.



Currently:
Listening to this
Reading this
Lusting for this
Munching on this

Sunday, 11 January 2015

all in

Monday mornings are going to look a little different around here. I traded in an air conditioned office for a stuffy studio, a computer for a wheel, and pile of reports for a mound of clay.

I'll drink to that.

New York Sour, slightly adapted from Food 52

Serves 11 3/4 ounce rye whiskey3/4 ounces freshly squeezed lemon juice1/2 ounce simple syrup 1/2 ounce dry red wine1 lemon twist, for garnishCombine the rye, lemon, and simple syrup in a cocktail shaker. Fill the shaker with ice, and shake vigorously for 8 to 10 seconds. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice. Hold a spoon upside down over the glass, just above the surface of the drink, and pour the red wine over the back of the spoon into the glass; this way, the wine will trickle gently into the drink and “float” at the top of the glass, rather than sinking. Garnish with a lemon twist.

currently:
listening to this
reading this
eating this