We planted far too much zucchini this year. Six plants to be exact (fools!), which is a lot for two people (our kids won’t touch it). So in truth I’ve been looking for any reason not to eat zucchini this week, and not to incorporate it into summer salads – which I realize is the opposite approach most people take. But here we are: a very simple corn salad that’s fragrant with basil, has a super simple lime-kissed dressing and some salty feta for good measure. I was tempted to add tomatoes or yellow squash but there’s also something really nice about just letting a few ingredients really shine. So that’s what this salad sets out to do.

Ever since Frances was a baby, she’s loved couscous so I used to must make it with broth and a little butter, but these days I can be a bit more adventurous, so basil from the yard snuck its way in. I’d planned to grill the corn but it just felt a bit fussier than necessary, so I cooked it in a hot cast iron pan with a little oil and shallot and it got nice and charred all the same.

Depending on where you live, we’ve got a good few weeks of corn season left, I think. And this salad is one to lean on as we enter this busy last blip of summer. You’ll find me harvesting zucchini, weeding the garden, getting the kids ready for back to school, trying to squeeze in one last beach day, and making homemade strawberry ice cream with Oliver – as promised. In many ways it feels like a race to the finish line, and honestly, I can’t wait for the cooler days and calmer cadence that awaits.

I was talking to Sam the other night about summer, about how everyone seems to look forward to it all year long – almost a remnant of childhood when you lived for the seemingly eternal vacation from school. But as an adult – and this is an unpopular opinion, I realize – I’m not sold. I’m just sweatier in my office everyday (we live in an old Victorian and don’t have AC) and there’s sort of this pervasive frenetic energy to do all the things before – gasp – the season ends. So we don’t have any bucket lists this summer other than trying not to feel frenetic. We’ve been sampling our fair share of ice cream cones, explored some new hiking trails, and dabbled in our garden – the kale and romaine have come and gone but the cherry tomatoes are on the horizon and the pride I feel when looking them up and down is … not insignificant.

There’s lots of weeding in the yard and garden – it feels like it could legitimately be a full time job right now, which of course I don’t have as I already have a full time job, so I try to get out there during Frankie’s naps on weekends or for a quick break in the middle of the workday. Current status: the weeds are winning. Another thing I don’t have a ton of time for during these supposed dog days of summer is baking, so I was particularly proud of this quick “no bake” peach tart I threw together last weekend with some extra peaches we inherited. I was on the fence between a crisp or a tart, and felt just a tiny bit fancy so went with the latter.

It’s pretty tough to mess up a no bake filling, but I will say that there are two things to pay attention to here: try to let your cream cheese come to room temperature to ensure maximum smoothness and don’t cut corners in the chill time. In my photos, I only let the tart chill for a bit over an hour as I was in a hurry and you can tell – if you want your filling to be nice and firm, you’ve got to let this lady sit in the fridge for at least four hours. No easy feat, I realize. But I suppose, a good window of time in which to weed. Or play with your kids. Or marvel at your tomatoes and the natural world.

There always seems to be a bit of rush when the first stalks of rhubarb hit the market, and this year we were gifted a big bunch from my sister Zoe’s garden up the road and ended up freezing it as we couldn’t get to it soon enough (kids, man). So today I had a blissful day off from work to do a little planting in the backyard, much-needed errands around town, and baked this humble skillet cake using up that vibrant harbinger of spring.

Zoe’s about to go into labor at any moment, so I’m going to deliver a few slices for them this evening, trying to create even more superstitions around food and labor out of thin air (eat this rhubarb cake and it’ll for sure do the trick! So far we’ve tried this with lemon bars, McDonald’s french fries and brownies and nothing has yet been THE ONE. But never say never).

As for availability, don’t fret: rhubarb should be in season for 1-2 more weeks – depending on where you live – and while it may or may not be known to induce labor, the cake does come together in a pinch and is just as wonderful on its own as it is with a dollop of whipped cream or sprinkle of turbinado sugar.

Beyond surface chatter about the seasons, it’s been a busy few months for us here as we continue to settle into our new life in Maine. We got home yesterday from a few days away in Boothbay Harbor, where we stayed at a little cabin, took out a rowboat, ate lots of french fries and ice cream cones, visited an epic lighthouse and went swimming in the saltwater pool close by. I think it’s our one time away as a family of four this summer, and judging by Frankie’s lamentations about how much she misses the cabin this morning at breakfast, I think we did it right. To be fair, she does say she misses most things as soon as they’re over, but that aside – we all were really present and happy and that’s a pretty big deal these days.

And OH HOW GOOD does it feel to get out in the world! Have you been out in the world again yet? Just a simple pizza dinner on a patio by the water feels like a pretty epic moment to remember. We were taking family selfies like international tourists: look at us! We’re eating arugula salad outside! At a restaurant! While I can’t wait to get out and explore our new city more, I also hope we continue to allow ourselves to be struck by this feeling of newness and awe: dinner with a view, a perfectly-made Aperol spritz, kids who genuinely delight you.

It may or may not be true that I’ve opened up a bag of the Easter chocolate I bought for Frances and Oliver last week and now, well, they’re history. So this past weekend I decided it was time to make something super chocolatey for Sam and I to share when the kids are (finally) in bed and we can settle into our night a bit.

Brownies are not new territory around here – I’ve shared a rye brownie recipe, a gluten-free brownie recipe, a very poorly photographed classic recipe. And I’ve said it before: while technically quite humble and common, I always judge a new bakery on how good their brownie is. It takes some work to make a very good brownie.

This particular brownie journey started when my friend Janet sent me an article on chewy brownies. I was intrigued with the discussion of temperature and shocking the brownies in the fridge after they’re baked (or in a cold water bath).

For these brownies, I tried the trick of putting them in the refrigerator for an hour after they cooled and it definitely made them super simple to cut and I quite like eating them cold. That said, I’m not sure in my case if it upped the chewiness factor. At the end of the day, these turned out to be a fabulous brownie for people who love chocolate: very dense and chocolatey without being oooey gooey. They’re a brownie you can take on the go. We all could use more of that in our lives, no?

As for things beyond brownies, I wanted to leave you a quick little list of what I’ve been reading and watching lately in case your weekend needs a little jumpstart. Hope you’re all well – it’s spring and the vaccine is coming (or, for many of you, has already come). The horizon is bright.

To Read:
Breath – James Nestor: So good. Doesn’t read like a science-heavy book and makes you think twice about our breath and how to deliberately use it to serve us better.

Writers and Lovers, by Lily King – My dad got me this book for Christmas, and I’m blazing through it. Easy read, set in Cambridge, MA and beautiful writing.

Quit Like a Woman by Holly Whittaker – I could write a whole post on this book, so I’m not sure how to recommend it in a few lines, but if you’re curious about cutting back on alcohol or curious about how the industry itself has become so insidious (or are a health nut and want to learn more about its effect on our bodies and brains), I can’t recommend this book enough.

To Watch:
Bridgerton – Finished it last night. NEVER would’ve guessed the identity of Lady Whistledown.

I Care a Lot – You can find this psychological thriller on Netflix. I don’t even know if that’s how you categorize this film, but I typically fall asleep at 9pm while watching anything and stayed up until midnight watching this last night. That’s saying something.

We made it to Maine. On one hand it feels like we just got here and on the other, it feels like we’ve lived here for quite some time. We met the neighbors on our lane (and have exchanged baked goods), live a few blocks from the ocean, and the market down the street sets up accounts so you can just walk on over and buy a chocolate bar and say, “add it to my tab.” Is this real life?!

I think the biggest surprise so far is the amount of sun here in the winter – it’s perhaps Maine’s best kept secret. Of course, it’s much, much colder than the PNW but the sunny days make it feel much lighter and less oppressive. Also surprising: bountiful and very good bagels. Sam’s been loving the East coast sub sandwiches (he’s from New Jersey, after all) and the kids spend a lot of free time in the yard on the swing and slide, Ollie with his binoculars aiming to identify birds and Frankie pointing at all of the “baby squirrels” (all squirrels are baby squirrels to Frances). I can’t wait to see it all blooming and transforming in the spring.

Sam and the kids spend the days adventuring while I’m at work; in fact, I think they’re setting local records for number of places seen in such a short period of time. Then everyone picks a spot to show me on the weekends, and we set off. They have a whole routine on these weekdays: Sam packs a lunch and because Frankie refuses to walk, she typically gets pulled in the sled. They have two stops: first they find a “listening bench” and stop to observe and listen to their surroundings. Second they stop for sandwiches.

When they took me to the Audubon last weekend and told me about the listening bench, I felt deeply moved by it. I asked Sam if he made this concept up, and he looked at me strangely, as if it were no big deal. But the kids, as typically restless and crazy as they can be just … sit quietly. Staring at nature. It’s remarkable. And as I sat there following their lead, I felt my heart rate slow and everything settle into focus.

I’m trying to get outside once a day this month – more for fresh air and mental health than physical exercise, I think. But as I do so, I keep the listening bench in the back of my mind. While I don’t always physically stop and sit (I’m usually trying to fit it in right before the dinner hour), I keep the spirit of it close. Maybe you’d like to do the same?

See you soon (with baked goods).

If there’s one thing I know about long road trips, it’s that snacks are pretty critical. And not just any old snacks. You need a good variety: some crunchy pretzels, something sweet, some chocolate, maybe some cheese. It was with this in mind that I mixed up these energy bites yesterday for Oliver and Sam to take on their epic cross-country journey (Frances and I will follow by plane this weekend because, let’s be real, there’s nothing about sitting in the car for nine days that sounds like a good way to spend the holiday season – to me, anyway). These little bites are packed with protein, not too sweet, and have a nice crunch thanks to the almonds. They just might be the perfect antidote to all those holiday cookies.

If you’ve ever made no-bake energy bites (or balls or call them what you will), you know they can be a bit finicky. Sometimes they don’t hold together well, sometimes there are too many chunks and they crumble when you try to eat them. Luckily, these have neither problem: the almond butter and honey bind them together nicely, and the oats and coconut offer enough textural personality to make them quite likeable.

There are certainly many energy bite recipes on the internet and, well, in a typical year I’d love to share a new holiday cookie recipe with you. But this year is anything but typical – for obvious reasons, but also, considering our looming big move. So please know I’ve got cookies on my mind and in my heart, and energy balls in the fridge. We’re grateful for it all.

Happiest of holidays to you and yours.  I’m so thankful you continue to be here after all these years.

Good morning, friends. It’s been awhile. Like many of you, I feel like I’m finally exhaling after many months (years?) and it seemed like a good time to celebrate with a very simple fall dessert for all you pie lovers out there who are too tired to make homemade pie crust this year. You’re forgiven: 2020 has been a beast.

We won’t be home for Thanksgiving this year. The day before the holiday, we start our month-long no-home journey, bouncing around between Airbnb’s, my Dad’s cabin in Lake Tahoe and my mom’s house in Vermont for Christmas. As many of you know, we sold our home in Seattle and were searching for a new house here in the PNW or out East to be closer to family, sort of letting the house determine where we’d move as crazy as that sounds (and yes, it became crazier and crazier as late nights found us searching in odd locales we’d never heard of or been to).

Ultimately, we stumbled across a 1900 Victorian home in coastal Maine that we fell in love with, so we’re taking a really big plunge and moving basically as far across the country as humanly possible (as all the moving company people like to remind me when I complain about the price of a moving truck).

My sisters both live in Maine, and our kids will actually get to know each other now, which feels monumentally important these days. The house has a really big yard for Oliver and Frances to play and for us to garden – it’s super light and bright for a Victorian, and reminds me a little of the house I grew up in in Northern California. We can walk to the ocean, the neighborhood looks incredibly sweet on Google Maps (YES, you read that right: BOUGHT A HOUSE WITHOUT EVER SEEING IT IN PERSON, which I never ever thought we’d do in a million years but … 2020), Oliver’s pumped about the snow (check back in with him in three months), and we’re asking Santa for a sled.

I’m hoping once we get settled in Maine and aren’t doing house projects and cleaning and packing at all hours of the day, I’ll have a bit more time to cook and bake for fun, and share with you here. For now: pumpkin crisp!

So this recipe is made for all of you pumpkin pie lovers out there who just can’t be bothered this year. For us, since we’ll be in an Airbnb and I didn’t know if they’d have a rolling pin or what their kitchen would be like, I futzed around to develop something similar-ish that would make us all happy. The filling tastes much like pumpkin pie, but it’s a little airier and less dense. The crisp topping is made with oat flour, brown sugar and pecans so it’s technically gluten-free if that’s a concern. Top with a little whipped cream and dessert is done – no rolling or crimping or blind baking. Ease this year: let’s take a break where we can.

I hope you all have a really restful Thanksgiving for those celebrating. I’m hoping to follow up with a road trip snack I’ll be making for the boys as they head out to Maine next month (Frances and I will fly and meet up with them), and I’ll share photos with you here and over on Instagram, too, if you’re curious to see more about our new home there. xox

Looks like we’re going for quality, not quantity when it comes to ye ol’ blog this summer. Of course I know you all understand: to say this has been an unusual season is certainly an understatement. And ironically, while our summer plans have largely been focused around our backyard, it still feels like the season has whizzed right on by somehow.

Frances has learned to say “no,” and celebrates this by singing it, loudly, whenever possible: “noooooooooooooooooooo.” She prefers watermelon or summer tomatoes to actual meals – I don’t entirely blame her, really. And Oliver has all of a sudden started to read (to be clear, he’s not yet reading but he doesn’t seem to know this??) to himself and put himself to sleep at night which feels like a real win – although also a bit sad.

We’re selling our house next week. I think it hasn’t hit me until this morning. We’ve long wanted more space for the kids and to not live on such a busy street, but now that we’re gathering our things to move out for a week so the broker can show it, it’s feeling a bit sad, exhausting … or overwhelming. Probably all of those things.

Where are we headed? This, my friends, is a great question and one that I strangely can’t answer. Which is a very un-Megan answer and each day I’m actually shocked that I feel so easy going about it. We’re asking the buyers for a “rent back,” meaning they’ll rent the house back to us for a few months. In that time we’ll either find a dream house or find an adequate rental somewhere close enough. Whether we end up in the country, on one of the islands or maybe even another state: who can say?! The pandemic has just shattered open all the options, hasn’t it? I like the sound of an adventure.

In the spirit of quality over quantity, I texted my sister when I tried these bars letting her know they’re almost transcendent. If you like key lime pie, these are a good one to put on your “to bake” list. I tried my hardest to make these with coconut milk but I just couldn’t get the filling to set, so I defaulted to good ol’ sweetened condensed milk and NO REGRETS.

The crust here is a sturdy press-in crust packed with coconut and oats. It’s a hard- to-mess-up situation, which is what we all need right now: I know baking was big at the beginning of this pandemic, but man I can’t be bothered with anything complex at the moment, so these are just my speed. I topped them with whipped cream for the kids but honestly, they’re wonderful without, too. So don’t let a lack of heavy cream in the house stop you from a future of key lime bars.

And before I let you go, I’d be remiss in not mentioning that the first time I had key lime pie was with my Grandma Marge in Marco Island, Florida. I’m quite certain she’d pick the pie up from the grocery store judging by those even little puffs of whipped cream decorating the perimeter. She made it seem like an immensely special treat, something one only enjoys in Florida, and we always ate it on the porch of her condo watching the sunset. I smiled and thought of her as I tested these all last week, which was an unexpected treat in itself.

There have been moments – many of them, if I’m to be honest – when I sit down to write a blog post and am not entirely sure how to begin or what to say. This current moment we find ourselves in is, of course, one of those times. In Washington state today, many businesses are closed to honor a day of silent protest. I’m up here at my desk still working, tying up loose ends before we leave for a family road trip this weekend – sitting here trying to decide what to tell you about cake. Do you need to hear about cake today? Do you need to hear about it from me? We’re full of questions right now about how to share, what to share, and when to share it. And on this rainy Friday as I’m hustling to get laundry done and figure out how to keep the kids occupied in the car for two days, we’re finding a lot of solace in little slices of this strawberry cake. So I’m sharing it today, thinking you might, too.

For those of you that may not know, I head up marketing at Simply Recipes. As such, I was tasked with fielding the email responses we received after posting a statement supporting the Black Lives Matter protests in our communities. And boyyyyyyy, guys, those emails could’ve been more gracious. I did respond to one woman who wrote a particularly awful one, asking her if she realized a human being was on the other end reading. She didn’t write back.

The majority of people, when it comes down to it, were angry because they felt we should ‘stay in our lane.’ Does a food website need to be political? Why are you talking about donating to black people right now, stick to recipes! I suppose I shouldn’t have been so surprised by this response, but I was. Is this a time to just keep our heads down and stay in our lane? Imagine if everyone just … stayed in their lane and never spoke up or broke convention or questioned authority or the way things are typically done?

Maybe it’s too simplistic, but a lot of the progress we’ve made in our country in terms of “equal” rights, women voting, and recognition for our LGBTQ and non-binary community can be directly attributed to folks not staying in their lanes. Let’s do more of it.

I’m taking Between the World and Me on our road trip, and hoping we have a few slices of this strawberry cake left by the time Sunday rolls around. The kids have new water shoes, and Sam and I are looking forward to a change of scenery after months of staring at our own walls.

If you, too, are in the mood for a cake that travels well, this one is the perfect marriage of sturdy yet super tender and even better the second day. It smells of sweet strawberries from the fresh puree you fold into the batter, and the frosting is dye-free thanks to the ground up dehydrated strawberries. While all of that sounds complex, it’s actually a super simple cake. And while the frosting is pretty and all, it’s honestly perfect without it, too – a simple dusting of powdered sugar on top and you’d be quite happy.

Everyone keeps saying that now is the time to journal, so we can remember what was happening — and how we passed each day — during this crazy time. And I keep meaning to and then each day comes to a close and, well, it just seems like one more thing to do. But I find myself constantly making lists in my head of what I’d say, beginning with the interesting waves of realization, panic and acceptance that have struck our household over the past month. The slow down at work, Sam caring for both kids, getting scrappy with nightly meals, worrying about money, not sleeping nearly enough.

It feels strange to talk about upsides to any of this, but one has arisen: having more time (and the inclination) to bake for others again. For neighbors or friends, or simply my own kids. I buy bananas now for the sole purpose of making two loaves of banana bread (one for us, one to give away), Sam’s made homemade olive bread and pita, and Oliver’s one home school wish this week is to bake a cake. While we’re now out of yeast, we’ve got plenty of flour, so this weekend I tinkered with a new cookie recipe that I think you’ll like: these have brown butter, a little cardamom and rely heavily on brown sugar for chewiness and flavor.

With both kids home through the summer and the weather turning decidedly spring on us, we’ve been taking a few long walks every day. Frances is at a particularly needy stage and Oliver is always chatty, so this is a nice time for fresh air and … a little quiet in my head. And during these walks I wonder about how things will be different for good. How hopeful – but also sad – I find the rainbows and stuffed animals in the window. The encouraging sidewalk chalk drawings done by neighbor kids, proclaiming “we’re all in this together,” or “we CAN do this.” This. What is This, though?

Overcome? Come out better and stronger? Simply survive? Having so many friends in the restaurant industry, I’m having trouble picturing the economy in a few months time. I’m not convinced we can overcome that piece of it. But I am sure that we’ll see our friends and neighbors more once it’s safe to do so.  We miss seeing our people and Zoom calls, while supposed to make us feel more connected, seem to make me feel the opposite. But dropping by baked goods and hard-to-find ingredients has brought me a lot of joy. Texting with our neighbors, arranging a trade (their rhubarb for our millet) feels very Little House on the Prairie and I’m here for it.

I hope you’re all staying well. It’s harder than ever just to keep your head up these days. Of course cookies help, but I think it’s not so much the actual cookies and more the act of making the cookies and sharing them that’s the real salve. It’s one thing we’ve got that we can control – dropping something sweet on the stoops of the people we love and waving through the window.