Carrie Saum

The first time I ate a mushroom at Gram's summertime table (with me sporting a full coverage one piece and neon shorts, and her in a ruffled pink bikini), it was raw. All I tasted was dirt. I swore off them forever. So, she made them for dinner.

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.

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.

I have a thing for a certain Asian-inspired restaurant chain. Their food isn’t Michelin-starred, and doesn’t often make it into my regular rotation for eating out because, well, we don’t eat out much, and I like only a few things on their menu.

Here’s a crash course on self-talk. Self-talk is the voice in your head, the invisible responder, the captain of your brain ship.

Nothing says fall to me like a pumpkin treat, and I love the combination of cloud-like cookies and frosting. It’s like an Oreo and a birthday cake had a baby during pumpkin spice season and created a true joy of autumnal desserts.

Last year, Ashton Kutcher tweeted about the Teal Pumpkin Project for Halloween. The food allergy community lost its damn mind in the best way.

This is a simple recipe with just a few ingredients. It's not meant to last more than 3-4 days, so adjust your measurements accordingly. But holy cow, this cashew coffee creamer is some good stuff.

Last month, I heard my kid say "I'm sorry" to a complete stranger at Target for no reason.

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