Ami and I have both experienced our share of tragically lonely lunches. In 5th grade, Ami had to sit alone at lunch because she was the new kid in school and had no friends; in high school, Winona often ate her PB&J in the chemistry room to escape the stress of the mean, crowded hallways. These were dark days indeed, but when we grew up and learned to love our alone time, we reclaimed the solo lunch and reinvented it as a positive and empowering experience. Nowadays, we both actually prefer to eat alone. Yes, really. It gives us a chance to regroup and steel ourselves to face the second half of our workday. To help other women conquer their fears of eating lunch alone, we compiled a list of dos and don’ts that will help turn your solo lunch from soul-crushing to life-enhancing (and, obviously, we illustrated them in GIFs). Keep reading »
Your ice cube tray isn’t just for ice cubes. Check out some other crafty ways to use yours. Read more on TheBerry…
Most of my childhood food memories revolve around my dad’s horrifying culinary inventions (pizza pork chop alfredo omelet, anyone?), which, despite years of therapy, have proven impossible to forget. My mom didn’t cook much, but she did used to make a big batch of Rice Krispie treats a couple times a month, which I remember with sticky-fingered fondness. I’m not sure I’ve ever made Rice Krispie treats as an adult, but hey, there’s no time like the present! Click through to check out 10 mouthwatering variations of this classic childhood treat, including some very grown-up flavors like dulce de leche and dark chocolate Guinness (!) …
I eat my secret cookies in the middle of the night. There is something clandestine, furtive about my stealthy trip to the kitchen, long after the world has gone to sleep. I am mostly asleep myself, I reason. This is hardly even happening. I can’t help it, it’s not my fault, I don’t even know what I am doing. These cookies don’t even count!
There is evidence in the morning — a cookie or two missing. We won’t speak of it. Who can remember what happened during the dead stretch between the dregs of the night and the pale creep of dawn? I can’t!
But wait a second.
What is really wrong with eating a cookie or two? What makes it an act of quiet self-deception? What about it requires sneaking?
I’ll be blunt. I mean, that’s why I’m writing this — to be blunt and confessional for a moment because I think that’s really the only way to address this sort of thing.
In my head, there is this eternal, infernal, absolutely obnoxious connection between food and failure. And you may find this next statement ridiculous, but: I think I’m actually pretty healthy about food. Keep reading »
The next time you head down to Tampa or Gainsville, keep this in mind: You do not want to mess with a Florida woman’s food or alcohol supply. Case in point, 51-year-old Kari Dangler, of Monroe County, Florida, pulled a handgun on her roommate after her vodka bottle went missing. Dangler’s male roommate hid the bottle of vodka from her, presumably because she was drunk (and prone to brandishing weapons in her inebriated state). When cops confronted her about the incident, she claimed she had only taken out the gun to clean it. Uh huh. She was charged with aggravated assault. But she’s not the only Florida woman to freak over her food or drink… Keep reading »
It’s rare that we get to see those notoriously ever-so-stuffy fashion people looking at ease in their natural habitats, but if anyone’s going to maintain their cool in front of a camera, it’s probably going to be Grace Coddington. The longtime Vogue creative director invited Elettra Wiedemann into her kitchen to cook (potatoes gratin and steak wrapped in fat) for the latest installment of Elettra’s cooking series for the illustrious publication. In trademark deadpan fashion, Grace is the first to comment on the irony of her creamy meat ‘n’ potatoes meal, noting that “it’s a dish that any Vogue person really shouldn’t be making” — but neither she nor Wiedemann seem particularly flustered as they slather potatoes in a pint of heavy cream. The true selling point of this video is the all-too-brief cameo made by Coddington’s very cute, very fluffy Persian cat, Bart, as he oversees the cooking operation. [NYMag.com]