It seems like such a hassle when a recipe calls for buttering (or greasing) and then flouring a cake pan. And when the author also mentions lining the pan with parchment, that’s yet another step to add to the list of things that need to be done to get that cake in the oven. Are all these precautions really necessary?
So, you don’t feel like cooking tonight. Been there, done that! There isn’t a cook alive who hasn’t at one point walked into his or her kitchen and thought, “Nope. Uh-uh. Not happening.” Cooking funks come with the territory, and when you hit one, it’s tempting to just switch off the kitchen light and call your local Thai place.
But wait! Having gone through those cooking-blah bouts many times ourselves, we know the common causes. We also know the cures. Here’s how you can pull yourself out of that rut tonight.
One of our favorite details in vintage kitchens is a tin ceiling. Sadly those original details are getting harder and harder to find, but that doesn’t mean you can’t add a vintage touch to your own kitchen.
Besides using tin tiles on the ceiling, you can also add them to your island counter, backsplash, or all over the walls. Take a look at a few of our favorite examples.
4 / 5 Stars | 35 Reviews
by DEBMCQUEEN
“Whole mushrooms are marinated in a lightly spiced soy sauce and red wine vinegar mixture, then grilled until brown, tender and delicious.”
My brother and I used to fight over shucking duties. Sitting out on the front porch with a paper bag between our legs, the lucky one got to rip the leaves off the cob, freeing wisps of corn silk confetti into the air — and all over our steps. (I wonder now if my parents fought over post-corn shucking cleanup with equal enthusiasm.)
The naked corn would then get submerged in a pot of boiling water or milk before being paired with a plate of crab or artichokes or something equally summery. And all those husks got tossed in the trash — because, remember, we’re talking about the pre-composting 90s here.
I first heard about LaCroix from a coworker who grew up outside of Chicago. She waxed poetic about her parents sitting down to sip cold “Pamplemousse”-flavored sparkling water at the end of the day, which sounded so intriguingly chic, another coworker bought a 12-pack of cans so we could try it ourselves. I tried one and wondered if I was missing something. It was fizzy water with a recognizable grapefruit flavor and not a hint of sweetness. What was the big deal?
That was five years ago. Now you’ll usually find a couple flavors of LaCroix in my fridge — I’m a Pamplemousse fan forever and my husband loves Peach-Pear — and it seems I’m not alone in my newfound love for the unsweetened, flavored sparkling water in the fancy cans straight out of the 1980s. What the heck is going on?
