No crazy musings here, folks. Just a classic case of “Girl meets peas. Girl cooks peas”.

Has it really been 23 days since my last post?!? “Bad blogger! Tsk tsk tsk!” (as I scold myself and wiggle my index finger from side to side). It has been quite a frenetic month with packing and moving and unpacking again. But we’re happy to finally sit back and enjoy our new home!

One of my favorite parts about going on vacation is the challenge to use all our perishable ingredients in order to avoid coming home to radioactive mutant produce with fur and legs. Kiwi was one of them.

I was a young foodie padawan when I started my first job in the restaurant industry. California Pizza Kitchen was my Yoda. For three years, I waited on tables, silently learning and developing my palate. This was my favorite dish, and it was my destiny to conquer it.

My best friend has once again teased me about my multi-syllabic meals but this is coming from a guy who has no problems eating tuna straight out of the can. So I dedicate this recipe to my BFF of  18 years.

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore…

An entire meal that was invented for  people who like to sleep in on a weekend. A meal that says “Sure! Go ahead and have a few cocktails with your eggs and bacon!”. The one meal where you won’t be considered an alcoholic for boozing it up before noon. So what’s not to love about [...]

Sounds fancy. Looks fancy. Hence, it’s probably too complicated to make it yourself. I always assumed I’d be better off ordering it from a restaurant than causing a tornado of cocoa powder, mascarpone cheese and lady fingers in our kitchen as I sit defeated in a puddle of espresso.