homemade

I just finished reading A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg. She's the writer of Orangette. She has this magical way of writing like she's had you over for lunch, and after your belly is satisfied like it's never been before, you ask for the recipe, and she, graciously, obliges. And then she tells you about that one time when she made it for so-and-so and suddenly you're off on some tangent that will, inevitably, lead you back to the table.

Since Sunday afternoon, when I started it, this book has been my late night dessert each evening. Not only have I loved curling up in my bed just before I go to sleep, to drool over the recipes and stories Molly tells, I have loved making time in my schedule to read. It has been too long, but it is such a treat.

I loved it. And I may just gain 200 pounds from trying all of the recipes. Although, to Molly's credit, there are enough salads in that book to balance out the butter, chocolate, and whipped cream that fill the rest of the pages.

So thanks, Molly, for confirming that a life centered around the kitchen is perfectly balanced. And that real life fairy tales actually begin with chocolate cake instead of poison apples.