Kitchen Fails

This post should really be titled “Life Fails”…or at least “Blog Fails”. First on the list would be that time I promised you guys I was back and then disappeared for 2 more months. Second on the list would be the second time I promised you I was back, and then disappeared for, like, 72894617310 more months.

So this time, instead of promising I’m back, I’ll just tell you that 1. School is hard. 2. School is even harder when you’re 27 years old and far more interested in margaritas than you are homework (actually, that doesn’t sound any different than when I was 21 and in undergrad. Ok fine, 19. Whatever). 3. I solemnly swear that despite school, volunteering, work, and my super busy dating life, I will post recipes more often than I have been in the past year. P.S. that last part about my dating life is a lie but it’s fine because I like margaritas and my dog more anyway.

Speaking of my dog, I tried to make these uber fabulous + healthy pumpkin muffins for y’all last night by experimenting with some recipes. Batch #1 was so horrendous that the entire pan went straight into the garbage can. Well, the entire pan minus one, because I have no shame and ate it anyway. Batch #2 was a little less horrendous but still so bad that even my dog wouldn’t eat them. So today I gave up and ordered Thai food takeout and watched Law and Order: SVU because I am an adult but refuse to act like it.

I’ll try again tomorrow. Or something. And in the meantime, I’d hate for you to be left empty-handed, so here are two pictures of pretty pretty fall here in Seattle. They’re from my Instagram, which you’re welcome to follow now that it’s not private. Unless you’re one of those weirdo pages that posts pictures of women’s boobs and stuff. In that case, I’ll probably block you.

Screen Shot 2015-10-15 at 9.37.32 PMScreen Shot 2015-10-15 at 9.30.57 PM


{Healthier} Ham and Cheese Quiche

I know, I know. I said I was back, and then I disappeared again. The thing about starting your life over (ok fine, that was dramatic. starting your CAREER over) is that sometimes it involves going back to school. Grad school. To become employable In the medical field. And it turns out careers in the medical field require chemistry classes. It also turns out that chemistry WILL TAKE OVER YOUR LIFE.


So it’s the first day of spring quarter, there are no more chemistry classes in my immediate future, and here I am! With a recipe for you! AND said recipe involves a way to get rid of that leftover ham from Easter!

Now, I love me a good quiche, but the first time I made my own quiche, I was oh-so-sad when I realized how unhealthy it can be with all that cream. So instead, I subbed whole milk for the cream, cut down on cheese (just a tiny bit, don’t worry), and also used freshly shredded, sharp cheddar. I’ve found that shredding my own cheese AND using sharp cheddar add so much more flavor that I often don’t need to use as much.

I also made this recipe at 11 o’clock at night after a few too many beers at my neighborhood bar. Lemme tell you, ain’t nothin ever tasted as good as cheesy quiche after an evening of drinking. But don’t worry, I’ve had it again (TWICE) today, and I can promise that it’s just as delicious sober.

Side note: the fact that I made it after overindulging should be a clear indication of how easy this recipe is to throw together.


  • 4 eggs, beaten
  • 3⁄4 c. whole milk
  • dash of salt (roughly 1/4 to 1/2 tsp.)
  • 1/2 tsp. freshly ground pepper
  • 1/2 tsp. garlic powder
  • 1/2 tsp. minced onion
  • 2 slices whole wheat bread
  • 1 cup chopped cooked ham (I used leftover spiral cut honey ham from Easter and it was to-die-for)
  • 1 cup freshly shredded, sharp cheddar (plus a little extra to sprinkle on top before baking)
  • 1 9″ unbaked pie shell, room temperature


  1. Roll pie shell out a little (if needed) and place inside pie plate. Fold edges down. Make pretty if you have the patience for that sort of thing.
  2. Tear slices of bread up into smallish chunks and toss into pie shell (this helps keep all the ham from sinking to the bottom)
  3. Beat eggs with milk, salt and pepper in bowl.
  4. Add ham and cheese.
  5. Pour into pie shell.
  6. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. *IMPORTANT! Check the crust after about 15 minutes. If it’s browning too quickly, briefly remove from oven and cover JUST the edges by making a little ring of tin foil (if you don’t know what I mean by this, just Google it – it’s not hard, I promise)
  7. Let stand for several minutes before serving.

Yields about 6-8 servings

Recipe adapted from:

Better Late Than Never

Well hello there.

I know. You thought I’d never come back to you. And I’m sorry.

Will you forgive my prolonged and unexplained absence if I promise never to leave you hanging like that again? I know, I know…7 months is a little more than just prolonged. But here’s the thing about this funny little thing called life: sometimes you just get lost.

You take one teeny little wrong turn without even noticing, then another, and then another…and then finally one day you look up and think how in the world did I end up here? 

In a career that I loathed. Making unhealthy choices for my body. Doing things that didn’t make me happy or leave me fulfilled. Following everyone’s advice but my own.

That’s the thing. We humans are so egotistical, always making the mistake of trying to tell one another what you or I should be thinking, feeling, doing. That it’s ok to not love our job {after all, no one loves their job! it’s just a way to pay the bills}. That getting our hearts broken ain’t no thang {because hey, there are SO many fish in the proverbial fucking sea}. That the amount of Instagram followers we have or likes per picture is a definitive indication of whether we’re succeeding in life.

That we’re somehow obligated to follow anything other than our own hearts for this one short and precious life we get to live.

And you know what? It truly is a short and precious life. Too short to give fucks where fucks don’t deserve to be given. Too short to be unhappy in a job. Too short to stay in relationships, romantic or otherwise, that no longer contribute to your happiness.  To short to not do exactly what you want to do, every single moment of every single day. Because someday, all of our moments? Poof. They’re gone. All used up.

There is something so breathtakingly beautiful about the people who recognize the frailty of this life. Who choose to rise above. The ones who fight like hell for what they believe, all the while refusing to let their hearts be hardened by the battles.

So. I got a little lost. And now I’m getting found. By learning to trust my own heart again. Remembering what’s important. Spending more time in places and with people that make me happy. Choosing happiness.

And the best news of all (for you anyway)…I’m finally back in the kitchen.