“Glancing out the car windows as the northern villages quickly ticker-taped by, the hamlets’ holiday lights radiated a blur of December gray-blue hues. The morning fog was opaque and waxy as we cut northbound on the Autobahn with a speed that promised to get us to Dresden in less than an hour . . .”
“Lazy weekend mornings in winter – a human form materializing from under the 3 layers of Scandinavian down at 8 a.m. – the first waking 5 minutes to loiter in starched white bed sheets with a phone, with the December sun . On weekends I am sunny-side-up, positive, and anticipating . . .”
“I always get a bit anxious when the plane begins to land; the rumbling hydraulics of the landing gear extending out below us, the wing tailcoats firing upwards to slow our speed, and my personal conviction that we are almost always landing too fast. Last week was no different as the non-stop. . .”
“I recently came across a few European olive oil recipes specific to baking the last few weeks and wanted to give them a go. In the past, I have really enjoyed savory Italian breads with sundried tomatoes but haven’t explored into continental cakes or the quintessential sweet loaves. Baking with . . .”
“Nemyslím si, že jsem někdy soutěžil v nějaké kuchařské soutěži. Nikdy jsem nad tím nepřemýšlel, vlastně jsem ani neměl příležitost, se nějaké kulinářské soutěže zúčastnit. Jednoho dne můj manžel někde objevil soutěž od Lidlu pro všechny vášnivé blogaře a přemlouval mě, abych se zúčastnil. . . “
“In recent memory, minus perhaps a Boy Scout cake walk when I was 11 years-old, I don’t think I have ever competed in any sort of food challenge in my life. I never quite gave it much thought nor have had the opportunity to give it a go . . .”
“As the weekend approaches and excitement brews, so do we as we begin to plan our weekend. Plans to zip to visit a friend, take the yoga class, sort out the house, or schedule in a nap. Even if it is the laziest of times, we sometimes forget that lazy is often ironically scheduled in. For me . . .”
Being an expat in the Czech Republic, I am never too far from surprises – especially when it comes to food. From mistakenly ordering fried pig kidneys to seeing friends gobble down turkey hearts . . .