Carrie Saum

Every now and then, I produce something in my kitchen that actually blows my own mind. Heaven in your mouth - white chocolate cranberry cookie fudge!

Every year, I recreate my favorite street vendor’s glüwine (pronounced glue-vine), and remember that crazy freedom. I’m instantly transported back to those snowy cobblestone streets, freezing hands and feet, warm belly, and everything tinged with magic even while being naively idiotic.

So, when your BFF moves into her first real home and her husband has a birthday at basically the same moment, you bake a cake. And not just any cake but a beautiful thing made of the best ingredients. You aim high, confident that you can come through for your BFF and celebrate her family's milestones with four spongy layers filled with thick raspberry preserves and succulent buttercream.

The country is kind of obsessed with KonMari. I get it. Truly, I do.

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I say this: Stop fat-shaming my toddler son. Fat will not make him fat. Fat does not make him unhealthy.

This delightful mouthful of berries with a hint of lavender blossoms revolutionized the way I saw baking.

As white feminists, we have an absolute and undeniable responsibility to seek out perspectives of marginalized people and gain understanding.

This is utter nonsense. There are no good or bad foods so let's stop moralizing food. Let's also stop moralizing money fitness and time!

What’s more refreshing than a piping hot mug of coffee? Well, lots of things. How about a recipe for cold-brew pumpkin spice coffee instead?