In Texas… But Not That Kind of Ranch
I received this little sugar and creamer set from West Elm, and I really liked it, except for the bamboo tray and spoon. Or rather, did like those as well, just not in my house. I have an old teak Danish modern dining table made by Dux, which I love. This looks too… contemporary.
So far, the best elotes in town are at Taqueria El Si Hay in Oak Cliff, where I last waited 30 minutes in line for my cup of corn kernels smothered in sour cream, cotija, and hot sauce. The man at the cart has been christened “Corn G.” (short for “Corn Genius”) by my friend Veronica, and his methodical preparation does indeed produce very, very delicious results.
I’m not trying to brag, but I like my own elotes even better. Here’s how to up the deliciousness factor:
We had been limping along with disposable pepper grinders from Aldi for a few years, but after the plastic mechanisms kept getting ground up and dumped into our food, I thought it was time for a grown-up one. Whenever I need to buy something practical and/or boring like this, I ask myself if there is a classic version of it. Then I consider whether I like that classic version. It works a bit better than the process of going to Target and Bed Bath & Beyond, thinking everything looks like junk, and then buying something anyway out of desperation.
April is the cruelest month for seasonal cooking. None of my beloved summer vegetables are ready to pick yet, except in places so far away that they’ve got jetlag when they arrive. The winter squashes and pumpkins seem heavy and inappropriate. Everyone wants you to eat fennel, artichokes, and Swiss chard for spring, and frankly those are not my favorites. Also, there were just the two of us for Easter dinner this year, so Richard came up with the good idea of an eggy luncheon: croques madames (sans the ham), asparagus with a balsamic sauce, and grapefruit crème brûlée.
Passalong plants are handed from one gardener to another, and they’re my favorite kind. It generally means that they’re resilient enough to take the Texas weather and they’ll thrive enough that someone has to actually get rid of them. I can’t tell you how many hundreds of dollars I’ve lost when my expensive Japanese aralias, hostas, heuchera, and hellebores have succumbed to drought. But all of the passalongs I’ve received are doing just fine. (Except for the ferns I plucked from my aunt’s house in Houston; it’s just not humid enough for them here.)
Texas is pretty dreadful for the type of gardens I prefer, but there is one flower that likes it here: irises. I’ve been daydreaming about a pathway lined with irises for about six months now, so I devised a little trick to get some for free. This works well for anything that you’d like to get for free, actually…