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Ratatouille should be a verb.

When you create a new word, do you have to define it right away, or can you wait to see where it goes? In some cultures, people don't name their children for years--how can you name a thing before you know it well? Is this why so many of us hate our names as children?

I hope you're all planning to show your mom some love this weekend. Moms are probably one of the best things to befall mankind.

We love getting feedback. Of course, being a family-run content business, we (perhaps) take it more personally than other, contributor-driven sites. If someone criticizes the content on, say,,, Epicurious, etc., we imagine complaints are handled by someone who has little to do with the recipes or editorial choices that spawned the comments.

Back in December, in a Christmas cookie-fueled, sleep deprived hysteria, I decided that January would be all about taking better care of myself. I would eat healthier, get more sleep, do more yoga, and spend less time on the computer. You could call them resolutions, but I don't. It always seems like making formal resolutions is a quick path to failure.

The thing about having the blues is that it comes from nowhere. It's not a feeling you can easily attribute to one cause or another, and so the question, "What's wrong," while usually asked by well-meaning folks, is irritating simply because it can't be answered.

When you come of age as a vegetarian in the South, you end up eating a lot of hummus (and bad salads, but we've already discussed that).

And, frankly, hummus has become so widespread and popular that you think once you've had hummus, that's it. Done. Hummus is hummus is hummus.


One of the many perks to being within an hour of the Oregon coast is having access to incredible seafood, especially salmon, tuna, oysters, and Dungeness crab. Knowing where to go always helps, but even tourists and newcomers can enjoy these delicacies for the right price.

I don't typically share my poetry. It's something that has always been a very private practice for me. But today for some reason, when I sat down to write this post, a poem came out. I don't expect it to mean the same thing to you that it does to me, but I do hope that you enjoy it in some way. It is a toast, of sorts, to the New Year.

I feel as if Americans have a knack for making joyous events stressful. There are television shows based on the premise that weddings are stressful (there are shows based on the premise that picking out a wedding dress is stressful for crying out loud). But the good thing about the vicious cycle of overdoing it is that you can stop at any time. Really.