Posts from the “Southern” Category

Late Summer Recipes

Posted on August 2, 2026

I finally got back in the kitchen this weekend, which made me feel like myself again. I’m not sure what I’ve been doing this Summer — or this year, really— but cooking brings me back to center. I have a job that is never finished. It’s always a work in progress. When I cook, I’m participating in something that provides structure (something I need and hate simultaneously), creativity, and a task that can be completed. I get bonus points if I’m able to clean it all up afterward because that is double completion. I also spend most of my days talking about the importance of reconnecting to people who grow, cook, and share food. When I get to create or make recipes that include…

Categories: Community, Jones Valley Teaching Farm, Recipes, Southern

Tagged: Alabama grown, All Recipes, Birmingham, Cooking, DInner, farm stand, Food, Garden, gnocchi, late Summer, locally grown, Pasta, Recipe, recipes, tomato pie, Tomatoes, Urban Farming, veggies, zucchini bread

Aurora in Alabama

Posted on May 11, 2024

Last night I was on my porch scrolling through my feeds, reading articles, and attempting to finish some of the NYT games I didn’t get a chance to complete that morning. My week was long and hard and complex and inspiring and exciting and I’m not going to lie — all of those feelings were overwhelming to this leo-and-only-child empath (who also happens to be an external processor). Not in a depleting way, but in a curious-and-tired kind of way. So as I was winding down, I heard an owl. Now, I don’t normally hear owls from my porch, so I perked up a bit. Then out of nowhere a few folks started posting photos of pink and purple skies. I really perked up. Northern Lights! In Alabama? No way.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know I am obsessed with two things: Svalbard and Northern Lights. Okay, I’m also obsessed with Dolly Parton, Jones Valley Teaching Farm, things my kids say, and many, many, many things, but Svalbard and Northern Lights are a different kind of obsession.

My work and life and friendships and relationships and connections have evolved over the last couple of years. And I guess that’s been the case because my relationship with myself (along with some lifestyle choices) has evolved.

In my youth-and-food-focused non-profit work, I have been talking a lot about holding the “both/and.” How it is important to acknowledge the broken systems while also creating space for joy, wonder, and awe in the work we do. Especially if we are focusing on youth. This week was a personal test to practice all of that “both/and” stuff.

You see, I am excitedly dreaming of building new systems to expand our work in Birmingham AND at the same time I’ve had to confront existing systems head-on. I’ve had to dig deep to understand different points of view while holding my own lived experiences front and center. I’ve celebrated and been inspired by personal and organizational change. I’ve been dreaming about the future while troubleshooting daily challenges that honestly shouldn’t be challenges at all. I’ve also had meaningful, delightful, and unexpected conversations with very diverse communities. And I’ve juggled all of this while being present and not-so-present with my children each night.

Anyway — as I started seeing photos of the northern (southern?) lights from friends in Alabama, I ran outside. I couldn’t see anything. But then the sky started to look strange in one teeny tiny portion of my backyard. The trees were in the way! I held on to hope (like I hold on to hope for snow in Alabama) that I would get to see something. ANYTHING. A friend encouraged me to take a photo because it was harder to see with the naked eye (probably true about most things if we really want to analyze that advice).

I grabbed my 12 and 8-year-old and we looked to the sky. And as the 12-year-old snapped the photos — the pink and purple appeared. We jumped in the car to try to chase them to find a space where we could see them a little better, but we didn’t have much luck.

And so, we found our way back to our backyard. With that owl and the sliver of pink and purple with trees that I briefly wished were not there, but now realized how much they played a role in the experience. It was a gift after a long week to remember that joy, wonder, and awe can be found. The road to it isn’t always easy, but maybe that’s part of the journey.

This life and work is complex and complicated and hard. But it is also incredibly surprising, invigorating, mysterious, and inspiring. So I’m holding the “both/and” this morning and sending all of you love and light (especially the flickering pink and purple kind of light).

Here’s some more inspiration I drew from this week:

Speech to the Young, Speech to the Progress-Toward

Say to them,
say to the down-keepers,
the sun-slappers,
the self-spoilers,
the harmony-ushers,
“Even if you are not ready for day it cannot always be night.”
You will be right.
For that is the hard home-run.

Live not for battles on,
Live not for the-end-of-the-song.
Live in the along.

-Gwendolyn Brooks

And Maria Popova always inspiring me:

Seeking an Aurora: A Wondrous Illustrated Celebration of Earth’s Most Otherworldly Spectacle of Light and Color

And Myia inspiring me at the Jones Valley Teaching Farm Celebration Dinner at the Woodlawn High School farm.

And David Whyte…

“Breath is the very first thing we give to this world and the very last thing we are allowed to take from it. Breathing is what we do before we understand a single thing about our world, and the last thing we will do despite all of our hard-earned wisdom.“

And Putnam Middle School and Oliver Elementary’s Farm Stands!

And this gift:

And finally, Kaitlin Curtice:

Don’t forget,
my love,
to live.
Don’t forget
to bury
your toes in sand
and leave the car keys
and laugh at oddities.
Don’t forget to marvel
and feel despair,
to sense danger
and run from it.
Don’t forget
to take chances,
to climb mountains
that no one believed
you could climb.
Don’t forget
to love yourself,
all of you,
from every season
and every place,
because you never know
when they will
come knocking for
a cup of coffee
and an overdue hug.
Don’t forget
that you are alive
right now
until you won’t be,
and even then,
don’t forget
how beautiful
it was to
call yourself Home.

Categories: Jones Valley Teaching Farm, Southern, Uncategorized, Work

Tagged: Aurora, Both/And, food systems, Inspiration, Jones Valley Teaching Farm, Joy Wonder Awe, Southern Lights, youth

(Probably Not Going to Snow) Baking Day

Posted on January 15, 2024

Well, I’m sure you’ve been up all night pacing the floors wondering if my little baby southern heart got any snow (see previous post if you are confused right about now). We didn’t. Shocking, I know. We still have today (and the forecast is only predicting freezing drizzle and temps) so I shall HOLD ONTO SNOW HOPE. And because it may (probably won’t) snow, let’s bake some stuff!

Let’s start this snow day (see how resilient I am?) with buttermilk biscuits (cue angel noise from the sky). This will be a potentially controversial post. Why? Well, I live in Alabama and I’ve decided to make Ina Garten’s Buttermilk Biscuits (let’s pause while I imagine her sitting with her coffee reading the news with Jeffrey while snow falls at her home in the Hampton’s.) See? I can already see some of you Southerners side-eyeing me and I won’t let you deter me from what I know is the truth. I’ve made MANY buttermilk biscuits in my life. I’ve used all kinds of recipes: the ones with lard, the ones with butter, the ones with lard AND butter. I’ve decided (and so has my 12-year-old) that Ina Garten’s Buttermilk Biscuits are the best and the easiest. There. I said it. I love Ina. I loved Ina even before Jenn Garner(see previous entry) loved her. At least that’s what I tell myself. So, go forth with your closed heart dear Southerners and let me make my Ina biscuits in peace. And if you are asking why I chose not to cut the biscuits out with the ROUND biscuit cutter (not sure if that’s the technical name) I actually have, the answer is “I have no idea.” Here’s the link to the recipe.

I had 5 overripe bananas staring me in the face every day this week and now that my snow dreams have turned into a freeze warning (snore), I decided to make banana bread. Remember those Pumpkin Maple Muffins I made yesterday that are almost gone today (no judgement, please)? I didn’t want to make another non-crunchy sweet breakfast/snacky snack treat this time, so I used this recipe and used pumpkin seeds (thanks to Sara’s encouragement) instead of walnuts and left out the raisins because I am not a fan of raisins in anything. Not even in Ina’s recipes. No raisins.

Let’s keep baking shall we? I mean, it might just…BE VERY, VERY COLD (my snow hope is dwindling). I just found this Hannah Taylor’s Instagram account and I am totally 1000% bought in. After watching EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HER POSTS (yes, I did), I decided to try this Dutch Oven Bread. Who needs to raid the grocery store bread shelf when you can make your own bread on this (never ever going to) snow day? Off I go to snuggle up with all of these carbs to watch the freezing rain.

Categories: meal prep, Recipes, Southern

Tagged: Baking, Banana Bread, Biscuits, Bread, Breakfast, Buttermilk Biscuits, Carbs, Dutch Oven Bread, Food, Hannah Taylor, Ina Garten, Natasha's Kitchen, Recipe

“If you can only be tall because somebody’s on their knees then you have a serious problem. And my feeling is, white people have a very very serious problem and they should start thinking about what they can do about it.” – Toni Morrison

Posted on May 29, 2020

I have been struggling with something that I could never quite explain. I haven’t been as mad and angry at Trump as a lot of other white folks. In fact, the minute I hear the words, “Did you see what Trump said…” I just go in my safe space in my head and pretend to listen. There have been times when I’ve asked myself, “Why am I not as mad as they are?” I think it is because I’ve been mad and disappointed for a long time.

Let me explain: As a young white child, I had a heart that felt different. I can’t really explain it, but I knew that I could not be satisfied with what I saw all around me. What was all around me? A lot of racism. If you look like me and choose to block that part out of your memory or have conveniently forgotten it, then I doubt we can truly move forward. So, I have to be honest and say out loud that racism has been a constant presence in my life.

I remember racist jokes at dinner tables. I remember the “n” word said around me without flinching. I remember the “white man armchair quarterback” routine every Saturday where white men were thankful ONLY on that day for black men. It’s why I hold so much anger towards football today. Can’t seem to shake my first memories of watching grown white men contradict themselves while drinking beers and eating hamburgers fresh off the grill.

And so when I see older white folks hate Trump today — the same folks that were the “older” adults that surrounded me when I was a child, I wonder, “Where were you back then?” Why did you allow for your family to talk like that in front of me? Why did you laugh at that joke? Why did you choose to ignore the hate of others when it didn’t feel popular, but you can do it now? Why did you protect your status in the workplace? Why didn’t you say enough is enough back then? Why did you leave it up to a small child to defend her heart? Why did she feel she would be disowned if she went against the white culture that created this mess in the first place? Once you saw my heart, why did you continue to disrespect me because you were “older, wiser, and flat out meaner” and continue to hurt me by egging it on and continuing to say racist things to me? Why didn’t you risk your relationships and status FOR me and FOR my friends and FOR your black neighbors? Why are you so mad now?”

Toni Morrison said in this clip:

“…don’t you understand that the people who do this thing, who practice racism, are bereft. There is something distorted abut the psyche. It’s a huge waste and it’s a corruption and a distortion. It’s like it’s a profound neurosis that nobody examines for what it is. It feels crazy. It is crazy and it leaves — it has just as much of a deleterious effect on white people and possibly equal that it does black people. I always knew that I hd the moral high-ground. All my life. I always thought those people who said I couldn’t come in the drugstore and I ad to sit in these funny places. I couldn’t go in the park.”

“…but if the racist white person, I don’t mean the person who was examining his consciousness and so on, doesn’t understand that he or she is also a race, it’s all so constructed, it’s all so made and it also has some kind of serviceability. But when you take it away, I take your race away, and there you are all strung out and all you got is your little self. And what is that? What are you without racism? Are you any good? Are you still strong? Are you still smart? Do you still like yourself? These are the questions. Part of it is, yes the victim. How terrible this feels for black people.”

“If you can only be tall because somebody’s on their knees then you have a serious problem. And my feeling is, white people have a very very serious problem and they should start thinking about what they can do about it. Take me out of it.”

“Look at it. Absolutely. Your own fears, your own history, and what you need. What do you need this for? It’s not – I said glibly a moment ago that it feels good. It must feel good otherwise they’d give it up. It’s wasteful. It costs a lot. It’s ugly. It hurts. What are you paying for that for?”

And so I guess that’s what I can say now (and this is just to white folks): How many times have you laughed at a racist joke to protect the other white person who said it instead of protecting the harm it did to others? How many times did you NOT speak out against racism when current events were talked about at the dinner table? How many times did you CHOOSE to ignore it so that you could keep your friendships and family happy with you? How many times have YOU looked the other way when someone was treated differently right in front of you? What have you risked in your life to stand up for what you say you believe now?

I remember going through a really intense “anti-racist workshop” 8 years ago. I was doing non-profit work. I was feeling really confident in how anti-racist I was. How I was different. At the very beginning of the course, the facilitator asked us all a question. He said, “How many of you are doing work in black communities?” Every single hand in that room went up. Including mine. He said, “Okay now I have a question for the white folks with your hands up.” I gulped. He said, “How many of you are speaking up at work — where decisions are made at the boardroom tables where you have a seat — and saying all that you do in our neighborhoods? Most importantly, how many of you are having those conversations at your dinner tables with your families? I appreciate the work you are doing in MY community, but what work are you doing in yours? What are you NOT willing to risk at your own tables — what are you afraid will happen?”

That one moment was life-changing for me. I realized how much work I had to do on ME first and with the people I’ve let off the hook my entire life.

And so I finally have the words. Stop wasting energy. Spend that energy figuring out why we are in this place and the role you have personally played in getting us here (and where we’ve actually always been). Spend energy listening.

Sending love right now to all of you and also thanking my Mama for giving me the space to be exactly who I needed to be — always.

Categories: Family, Southern, Uncategorized

Doing Vs. Being (oh, and collards and cheese grits and cornbread)

Posted on December 31, 2019

No goals. No intentions. No resolutions. No reflections. I know December 31st can be a time for all of those things, but this year I’m trying to avoid all of that. I know it works for MANY folks, which I think is wonderful. Me on the other hand? I’ve been working overtime in ALL of that and quite frankly, it’s made me kind of tired. I recently read this article and found myself in every single bit of it.

On my phone, I have every weight loss app and mile-walker app you can possibly imagine. Have I lost weight? Negative.
On my phone, I have a meditation tracker to remind me (every day) that…I haven’t meditated.
On my phone, I have articles saved to read later and… I haven’t read them.
On my phone, I even track how many hours I’m on my phone (specifically scrolling Facebook and Instagram if we are being honest) and that amount of time is atrocious and embarrassing and do you think I’ve limited my time because of that app? Nope.
On my phone, I have THREE email accounts linked and check them regularly. Yes in the car. Yes in the Doctor’s office. Yes, with my kids. Yes, to all of everything.
On my phone, I use the SIRI voice text to send messages constantly because in my 3+ hours of online activity, I somehow lost the ability to pick up the phone and have a conversation with anyone.
On my phone, I am bombarded with calendar updates and requests and alarms and notifications of the meetings about to start or are coming up the next day.

On my computer, I have articles upon articles saved about how to live more holistically. How to be less stressed. How to be present and balanced. Then I send those articles to my phone thinking I’ll read them there, but do I? Nope.

On my phone AND computer, I’ve “saved” books I need to read or listen to and the truth is, I haven’t read a book cover to cover in I can’t tell you how long.

So how in the world CAN you be less distracted, live more holistically, be more present with all the tracking, monitoring, reminding, and distracting things buzzing and ringing all around you? I honestly have no idea. Normal me would immediately begin to delete every single app, put my phone in a drawer, restrict all access to Facebook, and quit all of it cold turkey. Guess what? That never works either.

And because I’ve gained 40 pounds over the last two years, my first reaction is to immediately start every weight loss app, count every single calorie, track every single step, plan every single meal, and buy every app to remind me to do those things. This is my pattern (and I’m sure many of yours). Don’t get me wrong. It works for a little while, but then I fall back into the patterns and I’m back where I a started — mad at my phone, mad at cheese dip, mad at my work schedule, mad at how busy the world is, mad that I can’t get a break, and mostly mad at myself for letting myself get mad. Especially when it comes to being mad at cheese dip because how in the WORLD could anyone be mad at that?

When New Year’s comes around, it’s even harder for me to resist making plans and goals and intentions and restarts and ALL of that. New Year, New You… you’ve heard it before. That’s why I’m trying to do something a bit different (more on the “do” part in a second). I’m not making lists of things I’m not accomplishing or could do better. I’m not downloading apps to track whether or not I’m meeting daily diet and fitness goals. I’m not beating myself up. My therapist says, “Do you ever just stop ‘DOING” and just focus on “BEING?” I don’t even know what that means because even in this well-meaning post, I reference what I’m DOING differently this year (See? Still doing.). “Doing” IS “Being” in my mind, but clearly I’ve created so many to dos and downloaded so many apps that ALL that work of DOING something isn’t accomplishing much of anything. It’s just distracting me from actually doing the hard work of staying present and being okay with where I am and who I am while still working to know better and do better.

With ALL of that said (yeah, I really just got on here to tell you about the recipes I tried this week, so thanks with sticking with me up until this point), I’m thrilled to share some really good recipes I made for our family lunch last weekend. I have NO idea how many points they are and I didn’t even look at the calories. I knew I WANTED black-eyed peas and collards and cheese grits and cornbread and so I made ALL of that and have enjoyed every bit of it as leftovers this week.

First up: Collards.
I hand-picked these collards at Jones Valley Teaching Farm (because, well… I work there so don’t go getting any ideas). Now, let’s pause and give ALL PRAISE TO THE INSTANT POT. Why? Because my collards cooked in 35 minutes, that’s why. And they were soooooo good. I used this recipe and also used smoked turkey wings. They were absolutely delicious and sweet and tender and hit the spot. Oh and speaking of Jones Valley Teaching Farm, today is the LAST day to make your year-end gift: https://poweroffood.swell.gives/

Next up: Pioneer Woman’s version of Hoppin’ John. I served it over cheese grits instead of rice. I mean, why not? Here’s the link to the recipe: https://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/hoppin-john/

Next up: Cornbread: I use the same recipe every time, every year, and will do this forever and ever because of how much I love love love it. Edna Lewis’s Sour Milk Cornbread’s recipe is the best and you can find it here. You can also find it in The Gift of Southern Cooking.

And finally the Cheese Grits: I use McEwen grits cooked low and slow with chicken broth, water, and a little half-and-half. Added some smoked gouda at the very end.

However you decide to bring in the New Year, I am sending light, love, and peace your way. These aren’t easy times, which means space and grace and love is so important right now. A friend posted this poem today and it rang true to me and I hope it helps lift you up as we hold on tight to whatever comes our way next year.

CONTINUE: a poem
By Maya Angelou

My wish for you
Is that you continue
Continue
To be who and how you are
To astonish a mean world
With your acts of kindness
Continue
To allow humor to lighten the burden
Of your tender heart
Continue
In a society dark with cruelty
To let the people hear the grandeur
Of God in the peals of your laughter
Continue
To let your eloquence
Elevate the people to heights
They had only imagined
Continue
To remind the people that
Each is as good as the other
And that no one is beneath
Nor above you
Continue
To remember your own young years
And look with favor upon the lost
And the least and the lonely
Continue
To put the mantel of your protection
Around the bodies of
The young and defenseless
Continue
To take the hand of the despised
And diseased and walk proudly with them
In the high street
Some might see you and
Be encouraged to do likewise
Continue
To plant a public kiss of concern
On the cheek of the sick
And the aged and infirm
And count that as a
Natural action to be expected
Continue
To let gratitude be the pillow
Upon which you kneel to
Say your nightly prayer
And let faith be the bridge
You build to overcome evil
And welcome good
Continue
To ignore no vision
Which comes to enlarge your range
And increase your spirit
Continue
To dare to love deeply
And risk everything
For the good thing
Continue
To float
Happily in the sea of infinite substance
Which set aside riches for you
Before you had a name
Continue
And by doing so
You and your work
Will be able to continue
Eternally

Categories: Family, Instant Pot, Jones Valley Teaching Farm, Recipes, Southern

Tagged: apps, Being, Collards, Doing, Edna Lewis, Hoppin' John, iphones, Maya Angelou, McEwen Grits, New Year, NO MORE TRACKING, Pioneer Woman, Sour Milk Cornbread, Technology

Broccolini! Romanesco! Cauliflower!

Posted on January 17, 2019

Accountability time.

I’m doing okay. Been walking with the dog. Haven’t stuck to my podcast and book plan. Haven’t really counted my calories…and if we are being honest, I ate the chicken nuggets my kid didn’t finish tonight. I can’t leave a chicken nugget on the table…ever. I also can’t resist ordering fries, but that’s a story for a different time. I have, however, been more intentional and I’m writing this post now, so that is worth celebrating.

Something super cool happened this week. I stopped by Jones Valley Teaching Farm’s downtown farm to say hello to my colleagues. It’s kind of hard to do this as often as I’d like given the EIGHT locations we operate. Yes, eight. It seems I’m always running from one place to another. The truth is, I don’t get to see the sites as often as I’d like and I rarely make enough time to stop and get the produce we grow, which is absolutely ridiculous. So when Jesse, our Senior Farm Manager, asked me very simply, “Do you want to get some produce while you are here?” I was like, “YES. YES, I DO.”

When I first started Food Revival, it was all about documenting the CSA box I got each week from Jones Valley Teaching Farm (then Jones Valley Urban Farm). This was NINE years ago. I volunteered my time at the farm and I got a box of produce in exchange for my efforts. Little did I know that this blog would be a platform to highlight the vegetables I got each week. I called it the CSA Challenge. Nine years and two kids later, I’m the Executive Director of Jones Valley Teaching Farm and I’m barely finding the time to pick up the veggies much less cook them. Thanks to Jesse that changed this week.

Look at this broccolini. It is delicious and yes, you can eat the flowers. I followed THIS Barefoot Contessa recipe and even though the recipe worked perfectly, the broccolini was truly the star.

And look at this Romanesco. What is Romanesco? (I asked the same question.) It’s a member of the cruciferous family (think broccoli, cabbage, kale), but it is MOST like cauliflower. I simply cut its florets off and sprayed with a little olive oil, sprinkled some salt and pepper over it, and roasted on a sheet pan for 20 or so minutes. Then I seasoned it with some chili lime seasoning I got at Trader Joe’s.

Speaking of cauliflower, look at these beauties I got from the farm! I roasted them whole. I used olive oil and butter as the base and on one I sprinkled with cumin and the other with the chili lime seasoning I mentioned earlier. I think I’ll try a garlic Parmesan recipe next (like this one).

So, no I haven’t found the perfect balance. I have, however, found SOME balance and if you remember what I said when I first started this new year, that’s just fine. Some is better than none. As I close this post I want to say THANK YOU to Jesse for reminding me to get my favorite veggies on the planet. I want to say THANK YOU to the farmers I work with because they grow the best food. I also want to celebrate the fact that I’m still connected to Jones Valley Teaching Farm and that FoodRevival still exists. This journey has been wonderful and hard and all the things in between and beyond.

P.S. We also did a fun family taste test between store-bought carrots and the carrots I picked up from the farm. You’ll never guess the winner (unless you’ve had JVTF’s carrots because then you already know).

Categories: Community, Family, Jones Valley Teaching Farm, Prioritizing Me, Southern, Uncategorized, Work

Possible Snowmageddon with a chance of Sprouted Wheat Flour

Posted on January 16, 2018

If you haven’t experienced the “possibility of snow” in Alabama, you really should. It is fascinating on so many levels. You spend hours and hours contemplating closings (when we all know that the entire city will shut down the minute there is a threat of a flurry so I have no idea why we spend time contemplating the way we do). We run to the grocery store and buy up all the bread and milk (seriously, you should have seen the Publix parking lot last night). We freak out. Prior to January 2014 I would have laughed with you, but having experienced what we now call “Snowmageddon 2014” in such a personal way, I am right there with everyone. This is the part where everyone begins to tell their Snowmageddon 2014 story. Here is mine:

I was working at the Food Bank. The snow started to fall. It was pretty. We were all excited. We were contemplating when to shut down. We decided we’d close the doors in an hour to give enough time for our drivers to get back to the warehouse. Little did we know that the 2 inches of snow we ended up getting would immediately turn to ice. By the time we started to get our things and jump in our cars, we quickly realized we were not going anywhere. Not only were we having difficulty getting our cars out of the parking lot, but the ones that managed to get out ended up coming right back because cars were abandoned and blocking our two ways out. So our entire staff (minus a few folks) spent the night at the Food Bank. Two of us actually stayed two nights. There are worst places to end up that’s for sure especially as I remember how many people were stranded in their cars on the highways that night. My husband stayed two nights at his work and my son was with his grandparents. We were very lucky. One of the most anxious moments of the entire situation was being stranded at the Food Bank and unable to leave. You see, my Dad was dying 3 hours away. He didn’t have long and at this point I knew that it was just a matter of time. It was incredibly difficult to be in a place where I couldn’t leave or to have to spend all of that time thinking about what was sure to come. I was separated from my family and going through one of the worst experiences of my life, but I guess it also provided incredible perspective at a time when I needed it most. My Dad died 9 days later. You can read my tribute to him here. I realize that this story took a more serious turn than I expected to share, but I guess what I want to say is that I have grown to appreciate Alabama’s weather craziness. Just so we are clear, I have not grown to appreciate Alabama’s other crazy because there is plenty of that, but let’s just focus on the weather crazy for now.

And so yesterday, the weather folk started talking about “the possibility for snow and ice like Snowmageddon 2014.” Everybody started sitting up a little straighter. School closings were announced a little earlier. Bread and milk disappeared off the grocery shelves. And now we wait and watch live broadcasts talking about the snow that COULD MIGHT SHOULD happen. This is kind of normal for us. We wait most of our lives for significant snow events and we all know that it may or may not happen. This creates incredible resiliency for children living in the South, by the way. For example, my 6-year-old has been waiting by the window all morning and has asked at least 30 times “when is it going to snow, Mom?” The only thing a Southern parent can possibly say at this point is “soon” knowing very well that there is a higher possibility that the snow may not happen at all. We know this because this was our reality as children and we’ve had years and years to accept it.

So how do we cure broken snow hearts? We make biscuits and pancakes. And bacon. And cookies. I recently bought some sprouted wheat flour and decided to make our biscuits and pancakes with it this morning. (Yes, I’m cheating on White Lily flour. Let’s just keep this between us.) Biscuit recipe can be found here.

Pancake recipe can be found here.

Both were delicious. Now, I sit and wait. My 6-year-old has decided to “count until infinity OR until the snow comes” and we are at 164 at this point. I don’t think any biscuits or pancakes can save us. Send all good thoughts our way. As for perspective, I’m looking on the positive side of this weird “snow and ice or maybe no snow and ice snow day.” I’m safe at home with my family surrounded by sprouted wheat biscuits and pancakes. And bacon. And cookies.

175, 176, 177, 178…

Categories: Family, Recipes, Southern, Uncategorized

Tagged: Biscuits, pancakes, snow, Snowmaggedon, South, Sprouted Wheat Flour

Let’s just call this entry “The First Trimester”

Posted on January 4, 2015

There is a reason why I haven’t posted much in the last couple of weeks. In fact, I’m sure the title of this entry already gave my secret away. If you’ve wondered why I fell face first off of the Weight Watchers wagon and abandoned all talk about points or if you found me curled up in my office with my 3-year-old’s juice box or if you happened to see me dousing my wrists with lemon and peppermint essential oils or posting random photos of casseroles, grits, and anything that has to do with a white potato — then you probably already guessed that I might be pregnant. YOU, my friend, would be correct! Just got the news yesterday that I’m officially 13 weeks and we…

Categories: Family, Recipes, Southern

November Highlights: This Post Includes Photos of Biscuits

Posted on November 30, 2014

Radio silence on this end, people. My apologies. Since my last post, I’ve been busy at the Food Bank, celebrating my kid’s 3rd birthday and Thanksgiving, and experiencing life in between. So instead of posting elaborate recipes, I thought I’d give you a brief glimpse of what my world has looked like lately. Here are a few of my favorite things that happened in November. First up: Leaves! I took a day off not too long ago and managed to find myself on a trail covered up and over in Fall. It was a therapy session for sure and it didn’t cost me a thing! I mean, just look a this: Flowers! My month also started out with some flowers delivered by one of my…

Categories: Community, Family, Southern, Work

Tagged: Baking Bandits, Birmingham, Birthday, Carbs, community food bank of central alabama, Fall, Home, Jones Valley Teaching Farm, ME, St. Paul & Broken Bones, Thanksgiving, Wedding

Barefoot Contessa Dinner Under the Stars (Warning: This is NOT a Weight Watchers Post. I repeat: This is NOT a Weight Watchers Post.)

Posted on June 22, 2014

Last year, my friends had a fabulous idea to host a potluck dinner with one little hitch: Everyone must bring a Barefoot Contessa (aka Ina Garten) dish. I know, I know…how terrible, right? There are a few of us who live and breathe Barefoot Contessa, so you can be very sure that the dinner was a huge hit. This year, our friends Mary Beth and David decided to host. Little did we know, they had a few surprises for us: Dinner outside facing an incredible sunset, lanterns hanging from trees, and plenty of candles to keep us company as it turned dark. I felt like we were on the set of a movie or magazine shoot. See what I mean? So as amazing as all…

Categories: Community, Recipes, Southern

Tagged: Appetizers, Barefoot Contessa, Decadent, Dessert, DInner, Farm Dinner, friends, Ina Garten, recipes, Stretch Pants