apple cinnamon compote + fluffy buttermilk pancakes

A few weeks ago on a crisp fall Saturday morning, A & I drove two and a half hours to an apple orchard upstate. Naturally, I created a small itinerary the night before and packed some snacks to sustain our energy for the festive day head; sharp cheddar + rosemary crackers, red grapes, and a jug of cool water.

We picked up breakfast & coffee at one of our neighborhood bagel shops and were on our way, hoping that A's '98 Honda Civic would keep it together if only for this trip.

We chose the route with no tolls and consequently, the more scenic route with fall foliage and hazy mountains in the distance. Once we were close to the orchard, we discovered a beautiful waterfall that we would venture to on the way back.

Stone Ridge Orchard stood out to me while I was doing my research on which orchard to visit. Their apples are sustainably grown with minimal use of pesticides, and they grow many different varieties. We'd later come to find out that Stone Ridge is a small town that seems to be rich in art and history, which we couldn't have loved more.

Because the orchard is a bit far from the city, I was really hoping that it would be free of people, and lucky for us we felt like we had the whole orchard to ourselves.

We stocked up on some locally made cider and donuts from the orchard's small market, and set out to pick a whole lot of apples.

We picked wild flowers, relaxed under the giant oak tree, took a ton a photos, tasted apple after apple, and basked in the serenity of the birds chirping and the bees buzzing. It really couldn't have been a more perfect fall day with A.

Sundays are notably known for sleeping in and making pancakes for brunch. And so we did just that. There was no question about incorporating apples in some way, so I decided on an apple compote and make-shift buttermilk pancakes. The apples are cooked down with brown sugar and apple cider; the pancakes are incredibly fluffy and use lemon juice + organic milk, a suitable substitute for when you don't have buttermilk. Simple and no-fuss, it was the perfect way to top off the weekend.

---- Read more for the recipe ----

natural ginger ale

I was sitting on my back porch on a warm summer evening last week, watching the sun fall lower and lower. Sometimes I forget the simplest of things. To take a step back. To reflect. I am constantly in a rush here. Everyone is. It dawned on me that this time last year, I was in Florida, studying for my second to last physics 2 final, dreaming that I'd be moving to New York City once I graduated in a month. I wouldn't have imagined that one year later I'd actually be here, with a soul full of so much growth, experiences, and accomplishments. It's a damn good feeling. 

It's July, which means a few things. Summer is in full swing. It's hot, and incredibly humid lately from all of this rain. My birthday is coming up at the end of the month, as well as my one year anniversary of leaving Florida for this crazy place. I also can't even believe I haven't posted since March. I think I say something like that in every post, but gosh life moves so fast here.

Some updates I've been looking forward to sharing with all of you: I moved into a new apartment with a backyard (!!!) in a pretty wonderful, charming, still-somewhat-Italian neighborhood. My dad and little brother paid a visit to the ol' big apple. And, possibly the most exciting of them all; I wrote an article for Food52! 

Food52 has been one of my biggest inspirations since I made my career change a couple of years ago. When Sarah, one of the editors, reached out to me to contribute I truly couldn't believe it. "Me? They like MY blog?" Really, I was in shock. But I am so grateful for the opportunity. Honestly, I needed it too. I've been working between three to four jobs, hustling hard to make it here, which can be a bit draining when none of them aren't what you really want to be doing. But you have to start somewhere though, and really give it everything you have.

me, myself, & new york city

I had an impromptu date with this fine city today. Just me, my camera, surrounded by the only thing I felt like I really needed at the moment; New York. Its people, charm, constant life. I set out for the village, my favorite place of all. One moment I'm on 7th ave with crowds and cabs, and the next I'm on a quaint block left only with my thoughts.

And oh, yes. Spring is coming. I can feel it. Breathe it. Dream it. Along with every other city dweller who is long over this frigid winter. Today was the second Saturday in a row where I could wear a lightweight coat, ankle boots, and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. It was a frabjous day. One for the books, (or blog), I'd like to think. 

I felt adventurous. I felt good and happy and was brought back to the time where I realized I wanted to call NYC home one day. I was in the West Village.

I tend to just wander when I'm in the village. It's so easy to do that. When I found myself on Bleecker St., there was no question that I had to keep walking until I fell face-to-face with my favorite pizza joint in the city, Bleecker St. Pizza. I ordered a slice of white and walked back outside where the baskets of the delivery bikes doubled as my table as I stood beside them. It was breezy and sunny, and my hat and half-eaten pizza almost blew away with the wind, but I loved it.

It would have been nice to grab coffee with friends, chat about daily life and what-have-you, but today, I just wanted to explore alone. People-watch, possibly discover something new about myself. New York is perfect for that.

While I strolled the village, I noticed many couples hand-in-hand. More than I usually do. Maybe it's because I wasn't in a constant rush like most days, or maybe it's because of what has been on my mind lately. Most of the time, I like me. I can find the utmost satisfaction spending time with just myself. Today was a prime example of that. I actually feel fortunate that I am this way. Independence and self-happiness are things I truly value. But I can't deny those times where I crave the comfort of another soul. Not just friend-wise, but partner-wise as well. I've never been in a "real relationship". Some would argue it's a good thing, less heart-ache and all that. Others may find themselves in a new relationship just as quickly as their last one ended. Me, I was never really one to think about it all that much. My 'sort-of-motto' has always been something like, "Well, he'll come along someday." But recently, I think about it more and more. And notice it too. They're sharing laughs over brunch, cupping hands in the park... You know, the cliche things people in relationships do.

Everyone has their insecurities, and mine tend to really get in my head. I most definitely have them to thank, at least partially, for not feeling that spark, that connection, very often with someone. Of course the usual things play a role too; being picky (I'm getting better), being busy, etc.

There was that rare time in December. The time when I met someone I just clicked with. It was certainly unexpected, but exciting and new and made me feel a little bit of hope for myself in the crazy world of dating, (and in New York City, nonetheless.) I discovered that the major insecurity I have about myself, he actually really liked. Which was just completely unfathomable to me. But damn, it made me feel so much better about myself. Our first date was the most fun I'd had in while, at least by first-date-standards. When we spent time together, I enjoyed myself. He was silly and open, which made me feel comfortable around him. He brought me out of my comfort zone and I felt more outgoing when I was with him. The introvert in me really liked that. It was also a nice change-of-pace to actually have someone to do daily things with.

However, as things started to feel a bit more like a relationship, rather than casually dating, he just shut off. Ultimately, I knew we were too different for each other. And If I'm being honest, I never really saw a future with the guy. But for the here, for the now, I was content. So we did that thing people in our position do.. "lets just be friends." And well, that was pretty much it. Despite the short time of dating him, and knowing he wasn't "the guy of my dreams" or whatever, it still hurt just a little bit. It's that thought. The thought that someone got to know you, but doesn't want you... It just feels a bit insulting. We want to be wanted, insecurities and all.

It was like I was given a small taste of what actually finding comfort in another might be like, and yeah, it tasted pretty good. I think that's why I'm still holding on a little bit. Not necessarily to him, but to the idea of him. And if you are reading this, guy-friend, I feel compelled to say that I really am happy we met. You are a nice person, and a gentleman at that. Thanks for going out to get hot chocolate in the snow even though we had just met. That was pretty cool of you. (Oh, and opening every door for me for the first few weeks we were dating. That was cool, too.)

Anyway, I'm hoping that I'll bounce back to good ol' me soon. Not thinking about men/relationships/everything that comes with it, and just enjoying what I have going in life right now. Like the homemade guac waiting for me in my fridge, or you know, just living part of my dream in the greatest city ever.

photos & thoughts

I am loving New York, so much. The lifestyle can be hard sometimes, I'll give it that, but despite the inconveniences, it's a city that is steadily gaining a lot of my heart. And yes, the snow just plain sucks sometimes, but it's also dreamy and magical. And well, that trumps just about anything. 

I've decided to start a new series on the blog: photos & ___. The 'blank' could be thoughts, links, or anything really. Reason being- I'm that girl. You know, the one who needs organization, who works and imagines best in a clutter-free space, where essentially everything in my home has it's own home. And because this started (and still remains most of the time) as a food blog, my nonexistent-yet-might-as-well-should-be-OCD tells me that every thing I post simply must be a recipe, with many photographs, and an ever-intriguing story to go along with it. But I want to be able to share random things (aka the parts of my life that may not include food) with you all and not feel like I am doing this blog any injustice by not adhering to what has become my "outline." Yes. there. I said it. I know there's a good chance that at this point, you may think I'm a little bit crazy. And that is ok because there's a good chance I won't deny it.

I took these one afternoon when I was in the mood to shoot some still lifes of my bedroom. I'm a lover of windows and a lot of light, (if you haven't gathered from my instagram photos), so it tends to inspire me often. My best friends like to tease me about it, but ya know, I'm ok with it.

PS; hello lovely little succulent. I don't know how you are still alive but I am so happy you are!

Happy weekend, everyone :)

bakeri

Last month I photographed an art class in Chelsea for a lovely artist that I have been assisting lately. I had a pounding headache afterwards, but it was my only day off (well, most of the day off) in two weeks and I didn't want to waste it at home, on a Saturday nonetheless. I headed to Williamsburg for a couple hours to walk around the neighborhood, bask in the chill fall weather, and grab a latte at one of my favorite spots in the 'hood. I took too many photos. But I couldn't blame myself too hard, as everything from Bakeri's quaint backyard and vintage tea cups, to their quirky table cards and blue milkman jumpers, tend to captivate you wholly.

It was overcast and chilly, so most coffee-sippers and pastry-indulgers were packing cozily inside. All the better for me, though, as I ended up having the entire backyard to myself for most of the time. ("People won't see me snapping photos of the same latte and pear financier for an hour, thinking I am crazy?" I thought embarrassingly to myself.) In any case, it was just the kind of Saturday afternoon I was looking for.

Bakeri
150 Wythe Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211
www.bakeribrooklyn.com