I hope I don’t have to tell you to lick the whisk once you’re done.
“This is the fun part where you cut the butter into the flour! I use this moment to release my pent up anger with the patriarchy.”
I started researching frosé and half the recipes made my screw my face up in a terrible wince. Vodka? Strawberry simple syrup? Could you even taste the rosé in the end? I decided to riff on a recipe that would cut the sweet down a bit.
It’s not the prettiest drink, but the advantage of this one? You make it and take it with you to an outdoor event that allows alcohol!
Popsicles will save the world!
S’mores recipes for when you want to be covered in chocolate and marshmallow goo, but don’t necessarily have a fire at your disposal.
30+ queers gathered in a room to eat cheese curds and drink box wine. Now I will share the knowledge we obtained with you, because we’re a community and that’s how it works.
Ugh. I’m moving. Here’s a monkey wrench.
Did you know it was British sandwich week last week?
You can brew them in a cauldron or not; up to you.
“It’s fine, because everything is.”
When I was flipping through the internet for cocktail inspiration, I was taken with the Greyhound, a miraculously simple cocktail consisting of only gin and grapefruit juice. Something ripe for riffing on.
Sometimes chopping just isn’t an option. Maybe like me this week you can’t use your dominant hand. Maybe you’re sick or just really tired and don’t have it in you to stand in the kitchen for long enough to do all of the things.
There is something about someone sitting across from you in dead silence without giving you the encouragement of a “right” or “mm-hmm” that makes people’s brain scramble for more words, and just like in the essay portion of a test, the more you talk the more apparent it becomes that you have no idea what you’re even saying.
It’s no secret that trans women love pickles. It’s science you guys. Our hormones make it so we don’t absorb sodium as well as other people, at least I think that’s true. That’s what I tell my friends, anyway.
“Once in college I ate popcorn for seven straight meals. That’s over two days of nothing but popcorn.”
I’m not crying because I’m cutting onions. I’m crying because I’m thinking about how beautiful onions are.
This build-in-glass classic breaks all the rules and is super easy and it comes with a bit of esoteric knowledge in case a bartender starts a pissing contest with you.
Put some Cheetos in a bag and smash them with a hammer. Stomp them with your combat boots. Run them over with your car. Engage in some mindful meditation and journal about how you’re feeling now.