How is it that the things closest to us are often the ones we least explore? I’ve lived in this area for almost my entire life, and this last weekend was the first time I hiked this trail that is less than an hour’s drive away.
My cousin gets the credit for introducing me to what became the inspiration for this soup. She brought the original recipe with her and said we should make this for dinner. When my cousin says “should” what she really means is “will”, but usually I’m game for whatever plans she concocts, so it works out anyway!
Yesterday marked our 12th wedding anniversary. Twelve years of messy boys, twelve years of dirty laundry, twelve years of weeding the garden. Twelve years of love.
I think the best thing about milopita is the fact that Greeks eat this for breakfast. Seriously, why wait till the end of the day for something this good?! I think they might be on to something, here.
Last Sunday was a special day for my family. My new grandson was brought to church for the first time following the same kind of practice going back thousands of years. The same practice as when Jesus was brought to the synagogue when he was a baby.
Every year, millions of pounds of pumpkin gets tossed into the garbage. It’s a massacre of epic proportions and the saddest thing of all is that it doesn’t have to happen. Don’t listen to the lies!!!
No, it’s not Christmas, though I really love that time of the year, too. It’s autumn, the time when summer finally gets a clue that it’s time to leave!
It is easy to understand why Persephone was tempted by the pomegranate seeds offered to her by Hades, as told in the ancient Greek mythological story, even though eating them would condemn her to spend three months of each year in the dark underworld.
I had never heard of shakshuka before, and then in the span of a week I had three different sources bring this wondrous dish to my attention. The universe was speaking and I decided to listen.