Mary-Tyler Moore Moment


Let’s review:

Red-eye into Boston? Check
New apartment? Check
Furniture? Nope
Clothings? Nope
Anything useful at all?  I bought a Brita filter. Does that count?
Public transportation? Nailed it.
Lost? Only twice
Hungry? Starved

Eat a sandwich!

I hope adulthood is always this rewarding.

Listen, I went to Dave’s on Holland St. I popped in on a whim knowing nothing about this place except that it (apparently) boasted homemade pasta, terribly cute young gentlemen manning the bar, and was packed at lunchtime. That is endorsement enough for me.

I bought a bottle of local cider. Wanted to buy a bag of caramel wafer cookies. And tasted some yummy cheeses. Success.
I left with Wunderkind, by Batnam in Cambridge. Holy crispy apple honey blossoms, barman! Paired with a prosciutto fig jam panini, two blistered feet, a bare floor, and a window overlooking the city of my dreams.


Sleepyness and general haggardness included.

*le sigh….
I think I’m gonna be happy here.


P.s. cooking to.come.soon! When things arrive, it’s game on. Any suggestions?


“Boston Bound and Brave”

this is what life sometimes looks like.image

this is what my life looks like crammed into a tiny box.


this is what my “happy/grateful/love” splurges look like.

always decide to splurge.

This is Harbison (n.) a soft cow’s milk cheese wrapped in cherry bark from Vermont. It’s  a veritable “Creamy Dreamscape”. Please… get your little bread wielding paws on some.

this is what cured meat looks like

this is what it feels like to eat them together, sitting in soft spring sunshine, drinking wine with lovely people who make you laugh.  

I’ve waited my whole life to feel a part of a Chagall painting. who knew it only took a good Charcuterie to get me there.

this is what it looks like when my friends show they care

(note* my friends are awesome)

These last couple weeks have been filled with goodbyes, and handshakes, and well wishes and catchphrase. I couldn’t have asked for a better send off from the dearest people a girl could know.

Thank you all who came, drank, ate, sang that darn Augusta song on repeat,  and conquered with me. I’m “Boston Bound and Brave” people, all because of you.

All my love, (please come visit)



Chocolate Pudding kinda Love


A friend and I once spent an entire evening’s conversation pairing all of the people we know to their “dessert equivalents”. It can be very interesting to equate one’s personality with food.

You know food’s power? How sometimes, it transcends itself to symbolize certain things? Of course you do. You probably do it all the time. This is the origin of Comfort Food.

I categorize my life and the things in it, with food. Go figure. For me, a person, a place, a book, a special thing I hold dear, is attached to the memory of something delicious. (This is my own Synesthesia.)

My grandmother is Cinnamon Raisin Toast and Grapefruit.

Second Grade is a Peanut Butter and Jelly and Potato Chip Sandwich.

My friend Dan is a Pail of Sprinkles.

My typewriter is homemade chocolate Pudding.

I never realized how incredible homemade pudding is. It’s thick, and silky, and rich, and deep. One can lose oneself.

Wait, you say you’ve never lost yourself in pudding before? Oh friend, friend!

Make this and you will.
Much like typing, making pudding is rhythmic and meditative. You stir it a lot.

And sneak some tastes while its cooling. Then return with strawberries and cream. It is a blissful experience. Like typing something of worth and reading it aloud to an empty room.

Pudding and a typewriter. Both feel like secrets. Charming, delicious, lovely secrets.


Chocolate Pudding:

4 oz. chcolate chopped ( i used a blend of milk and 75% dark)

2 T. unsweetened cocoa powder

1 egg yolk

1 1/2 c. milk

3. T sugar

pinch of salt

1 T. butter

2 T. cornstarch


whisk egg and milk together in a a separate glass. in a saucepan, combine chocolate, salt, cornstarch, sugar, and cocoa powder. Put on Medium/low heat. slowly add milk mixture a little at a time. whisking continuously. once all the milk has been added, let come to a low boil, stirring occasionally, until thickened. Once thick, remove from heat, and stir in pat of butter. distribute in small bowls and cover with plastic wrap. refrigerate until cool.

serve with whipped cream and sliced strawberries. or toasted almonds and sea salt. or plain.



Vanilla+Lavender Sugar Toast


Cinnamon Sugar Toast was my specialty when I was seven. Warm toast, thick with melted butter and  cinnamon sugar. It was a treat. One that was heavily regulated by my mother for fear her children would develop on set diabetes. Good call mom. 

I had an idea of taking toast to transcendental heights. I infused some raw sugar with vanilla bean powder, lavender flowers. The molassesy crunch of the sugar,  the floral and delicate lavender and the punch of vanilla bean? Boo ya, breakfast just got grown, y’all.

The trick is not to burn the edgesof your toast. Like I did.  Whatevs. I’m owning it.

Spread hot toast with plenty of butter. Which in this recipe, I’ll refer to as “Sugar Glue”. You get it. I know you do.

The most lovely and terribly non-nutritious breakfast you’ll have all week.


Obviously sugar infusions are endless. You could do cocoa powder and cayenne.
Cardamom and vanilla.
Rose hips.

Basically people, all we are doing is throwing spices into sugar and letting it sit for a while. That’s it. Let’s keep it simple.


a letter to the universe

Hey universe,

it’s me, Megan.  I know you’re busy. I’ll make it quick.

I wanted to apologize for my behavior- the tantrums, the pseudo-control freak tendencies, the shaking fists towards the heavens, the despair. I didn’t see you, universe, working out the kinks, knowing that things would happen in their own time.  You were just hanging out, rolling your eyes, shaking your head, sighing, and watching me be a melancholic turd.

Well, universe, i got the news. The package in the mail. The ticket east.  And i thank you. Without this year of transition, i would have missed so much.

Like this whole year i shared with my mom.

*portobello mushroom caps with walnuts and gorgonzola, roast chicken and potatoes

She has been the best roommate ever. I will miss all our dinners, our porch wine drinking, our Modern Family watching, our impulsive adventuring, our farmers marketing. Universe, thank you for giving me the most amazing mother. She doesn’t even know how remarkable she is…

Thank you for this year of galavanting around with my little brother. I am so happy i got to know him as he blossoms into himself. He is such a cool dude, Universe. You know this. I am so lucky that this year gave me time with him, he is one of my best friends.

I thank you for keeping me in the one place i was so eager to run away from. When i would have done ANYTHING to prevent staying in Colorado, you, universe, put me right where i needed to be. Yes, i see you wanted me to appreciate this place. I had to drive past those mountains every. single. day. and Universe, i’ll be damned, but the things actually grew on me. They are spectacular. Statuesque. Constant. and (i can’t believe i’m saying this) i think i might even miss them when i leave. They have always shown me west. They have always led me home.

I thank you universe for this little thing.

For five years i got to have a cuddly friend who has a fondness for ice cream, and spilled wine, and moth hunting. I will miss reading poems aloud so she curls up on my lap. I will miss her crossed eyes when she tries to tell me something. I will miss her excitement over paper balls. I thank you that she gets to stay here, in a safe place where she is happy. One day universe, i want her back… she’s the coolest.

And for all the people who have crossed my path- new friends, old friends, dear friends, lost friends- i have learned something from each one. Whether about myself, or about other people, or communicating, or italian, or bread baking, or jam making. There is a life pulse in memories. I can feel it. 

Dear Universe, what i’m trying to say is this: I’m ready for this great adventure.

For all the overwhelming newness, and heartbreak, and beauty. Bring it on.

This is what i have been taught–to believe in myself. to trust in myself. and to be proud of that person.

See you on the East side…

Megan  xxoo

“If i could share with you the beauty of the world
well then, my friends, how envious you’d be-your thirst for life!”