Are you ready to cry tears of joy over a sandwich?
Me too. Always.
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I am not the kind of lady to drop half a paycheck on a new purse. I am not the kind of lady to get my nails done or to give into the coveted designer shoes - however much I might ogle them. But, I am the kind of lady that will spontaneously treat myself to a pound of fresh, locally caught crab at the farmer’s market for a casual Sunday afternoon feast. These are the things we do, not because we have to, but because life is so much fun with a few treats sprinkled in.
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Welled-up hope, excitement, and tears preluded this momentous brunch which now feels so much the culmination of them all. ONE seems to signify the realness of this charmed existence as mother, daughter, family. Our Eivelyn Blair has completed us.
A tale of recipe conception…
It had been a long day and all I really wanted was some quality couch time with the Bon Appetit test kitchen. Whatever plans I had in mind for dinner were soon diminished by more slothful desires for all things lazy and cozy.
I love that my generation has taken a hold of snacks and made them into not only a socially-acceptable mode of daily nutrition but a hallowed one. If you're not entirely sure of the current snack pseudonyms, see; charcuterie, tapas, tastings, flights…