I’m back from my week-long vacation in the Caribbean. (FYI: Anguilla is GORGEOUS!) I spent all day Sunday playing with Isaac. I can’t describe how lovely it was to see his face and squeeze him. Over and over and over! While all turned out fine—he and I both survived our 7-day separation—we truly, deeply missed each other. And I was too busy soaking up his company to even think about re-stocking the empty fridge to which I returned.

So, here I am. Monday, busy catching up with work, and having to figure out dinner. We’ve managed to make the last few meals work with help from a rare delivery of Zaytoons (Brooklynites: the Spinach Pie with Feta is a great option for kids) and a delicious dinner at Franny’s. But it’s time to face the music. And what better way than with easy, breezy, reliable eggs.

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I’ve had a funny relationship with figs. See, my father is a fig-a-holic, if you can imagine that. It stems from his youth in Greece, where he ate fresh figs right off of the trees. While he enjoys dried figs, the blood bath begins at the start of every fresh fig season. He knows that, here in the States, he only has from June to September to enjoy figs the way he did during his childhood. And, oh, does he. 

The thing is, figs have a ton of fiber (and are also a good source of potassium and manganese). And too much fiber can cause, well, digestive issues. So my childhood memories of figs are of watching my father eat a bunch, followed by watching my father run to the bathroom. (TMI?!) BUT, once I realized that my father’s tummy trouble was self- (and not inherently fig-) induced, I developed a new appreciation for this luxuriously sweet fruit. 

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Food News, Things We Crave, Green Your Eats, and Tips, Tools & Techniques. Check out this week’s picks.

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I recently made this bok choy to accompany wild salmon marinated in a yuzu marinade that I picked up at a local specialty market. Instead of using rice wine vinegar as my acid, I experimented with lemon. I thought it might be a fun play off of the yuzu, a citrus fruit. I skipped sesame oil, which is commonly paired with Chinese-style sauteed greens. Instead, I opted for a much more subtle sesame flavor imparted from roasted sesame seeds sprinkled on top. But if you want a more pronounced sesame flavor, you can certainly finish cooking with a drizzle of sesame oil. 

Enjoy!

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Photo: Arnitso.com

By the time you read this, I’ll be on the beach in the Caribbean. The ChowPapa and I have decided to take a 7-day trip before bambino number two arrives. We’re lucky enough to live near grandma, who takes care of Isaac once a week and often takes him from Saturday through Sunday evening. We also have the best sitter in the world who helps make sure that we get a night out at least once a week. Needless to say, we get breaks. We’ve even taken entire weekends to ourselves. But me and the ChowPapa have been working overtime and need a vacation before we’re homebound with a new baby. A real vacation. And anyone with a toddler knows, going away with a two-year-old does NOT count.

I’m pretty nervous about it. I have never left Isaac for so long. I know he’ll be fine. (Just not sure I will be!) He’s in good, loving hands. So, I’m doing it. (Despite the panic attacks.) I’m letting go. I’m stealing away for some QT with my husband. And leaving the feeding of my ChowBaby behind. For seven. Whole. Days.

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Photo: windy sydney

The other weekend when I was at my parents’ house, my mother asked me to whip up some cupcakes. But where was the baking powder? And the vanilla bean? And the…?  She told me everything I needed was already in the mix. The mix? Ugh.

As far as I’m concerned, cake mixes always taste nasty. Sorry. It’s true. There’s something cloying about every one I’ve ever tried. And I’ve always been convinced that it takes nearly the same amount of time to make a cake from scratch as it does to make a prepared mix. But as my mom reminded me, some people just think a mix is easier.

Since Stacie and I always say that cooking for your family is about cooking with whatever is available, I decided to roll with it and make a few adjustments to the yellow cake mix in my mother’s cupboard. And guess what? These cupcakes (almost) tasted like they were made from scratch!

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