Carrie Saum

Once upon a time, I went to Greece. Then I went to a tiny island and didn’t tell anyone. And then I ate a lot of amazing Greek food, hung out with the Australian water polo team who had just competed in the Olympics, and drank Heineken all day from a can.

I didn’t realize I was a polarizing person until my late 20s. I was raised in a tradition where being liked was extremely important — pivotal, even.

Breakfast is my most favorite meal to eat and least favorite to prepare.

Insisting on capability robs us of vulnerability. It robs us of the village we so desperately need. It creates resentment and mistrust. And most of all, it sets us up to fail.

Soothing warmth from the inside out to help ease your aches and pains, help you rest, and stop coughing.

Heating up a kitchen while you are doing your level best to not become human molten lava is always the goal during summer, no matter where you live. I prefer batch cooking if I can make that happen, and never, under any circumstances, do I turn on my oven. Unless I'm baking a birthday cake or maybe some hand pies.

Gather anything orange, brown, olive green, harvest yellow, and dead. Dead leaves, dead flowers, dead hopes and dreams, and arrange them artistically on your front doorstep.

So, what do you do when you make something that looks a mess but tastes like the Virgin Mary give birth in your mouth? You add more sugar and salt to hide its minor imperfections and nobody gives a damn how it looks after the first bite.

Cloud eggs are something entirely different. I was worried that these magical looking eggs would just turn to soppy, scary oven nightmares. But these are actually Alton Brown worthy alchemy breakfast wins.

When an opportunity presents itself to throw together a yummy grilled salad using the season’s finest, I jump at it. This week’s creative summer grilling adventure resulted in a flavor burst of seasonal cherries, creamy herbed goat cheese, a simple dressing, and of course, slightly charred romaine.