
Mother’s Day. A day of remembrance and sadness for so many of us whose mothers are no longer here. And also a day, for so many of us with children, when our hearts swell so big the love bounds out like Tigger on a tear.
I am at Lake Austin Spa Resort this Mother’s Day. This place has been a part of being my mother’s daughter and my children’s mother for more years than I can count. It is where I learned to meditate when my children were young and I was a newly single parent.
I was going through a horrible divorce. My husband had left one year before, on the week of my daughter’s and my birthday. My kids were going to spend Christmas with him and I would be alone. …






Once upon a time, Chili sat in his pot, thinking to himself, “There must be more.” He had heard about this thing called love, and longed for it, but the closest he’s ever come was a few flings when folks sprinkled cheese– or sometimes salted crackers– over him. Yes, he loved how those small additions made him see himself in clearer light: how their differences brought out something new in him, and how he felt more, well, complete when they were there. He was just one of those guys, he supposed, who was really at his best he was with the right Other. But the crackers were a little dry and stiff for him; they didn’t seem to know how to have fun. And the cheese– well, she was a bit too easy: she’d just go and drape herself anywhere, showing off her creamy, languid lusciousness to anyone and everyone.
It’s been a while since we’ve met up, here on this page. I haven’t stopped cooking, of course. Actually, quite the opposite is true. We’ve been hard at work on our new book (due out around Spring of 2019, which seems unbearably far away, given that our deadline is July 1st!). We are creating over 100 recipes that will swoop in and save (every)day for you: the book is called Hero Dinners, and each and every meal is made in a single sheet pan or a skillet. (We’ve just started an instagram page, too: 













