chopping, dicing, and mincing at Stir

Ian loves to cook, while I find it simply a functional task. I do the minimum to eat something acceptably pleasant, while Ian spends hours (at least sometimes) putting together a spectacular meal that is beautiful, delicious, and interesting. We used to bicker about this difference. He wanted me to cook more, I wanted him to stop "helping" me cook and to be happy he usually doesn't have to clean the kitchen. We've found more of a balance as of late, but part of working towards that balance was signing up for a knife skills class and investing in our tools (which he loves to use, and I love to clean, stack, and maintain).

After considering free classes at kitchenware stores, we worried we would end up with a biased recommendation for our impending chef's knife purchase (stores sell gigantic sets of a bazillion different knives, when you only really need three to six).

Enter one of Ian's culinary heroes, Barbara Lynch. Her demonstration kitchen, Stir, offers knife skills classes on a fairly regular basis. The classes are not cheap, but we're so happy we forked over (pun intended).

Our instructor was Jason Tom, who specializes in Asian cuisine. It was one of his last classes at Stir before moving on to his next culinary adventure. We chatted with him until all seven students arrived, then stepped up to the cutting boards. I had been a little nervous that everyone else would be there to hone (pun!) already impressive knife skills, but thankfully we didn't feel out of our league.

Jason started with the basics of how to hold and work with a knife using the dependable and cheap potato. (Start by cutting the vegetable into a block; this provides stability, which equals safety plus an aesthetically pleasing final product.) We then learned a few fancy cuts and helpful tricks. (To chop carrots so the pieces cook evenly, cut at a 45 degree angle, and give the carrot a quarter turn after each cut, adjusting the length of the next piece so they all end up with roughly the same mass.)

By the end of the class, we both had a good grasp of how to safely and effectively cut just about everything except our fingers. We also both enjoyed using the lightweight Japanese-style chef's knife (gyutou). We had been casually testing out knives in various stores the entire month before our class, and knew we had found our winner. (We definitely recommend in-store trial runs  before investing: "The wand chooses the wizard.") The very next day, we were proud owners of the Misono UX-10 chef's knife (8.2 inches), and new fans of KitchenWares on Newbury.

I'm so glad we took this class together. I feel more confident in the kitchen, and am more willing to serve as Ian's sous chef (though I still wash his dishes before starting prep work). I'm also amazed at how much more enjoyable the kitchen is with effective tools. And effective does not always equal expensive: I love our $3 vegetable peeler and $30 ladle as much as our knife and cutting board investments. The right tool makes all the difference.

Here's to lots of happy cooking (and cleaning) in our kitchen!

Great Grandma Michelson's never-fail dinner rolls

My grandma is an exceptional cook and baker. Because we live so far away and I miss her food, I'm motivated to learn how to master the recipes that are, to me, quintessentially Grandma. One of those recipes is her dinner rolls, which I'm sure I've eaten since I was old enough to handle solids.

My first two attempts at Grandma's dinner rolls were for Thanksgiving potlucks. I used her recipe from the centennial edition of her church's cookbook. The concise directions are fine if, like these lovely church ladies, you know what you are doing. I didn't. They were edible, but a far cry from what they're meant to be.

So while we were home for Christmas, I took advantage of our time on the farm for a hands on workshop with Grandma. She pulled out her worn recipe card and told me she thought her mom picked it up from the newspaper. She started up her trusty KitchenAid and began measuring while I inundated her with questions. Each written step seemed to be shorthand for a collection of smaller tasks and descriptions: "knead until smooth" or "shape into rolls," understood in full by a well-versed bread maker but over the head of a novice like me. I wondered if she felt the way I did when I had to explain to a retiree at church how to attach a file to an email. How do you elaborate on directions that to you are perfectly adequate?

With Easter this past weekend, I had my motivation to try making another batch of dinner rolls. I pulled out my now-annotated recipe for our community group's Easter dinner. The rolls still weren't quite up to Grandma's caliber, but are significantly better than my first two Thanksgiving attempts. I have a newfound confidence in my bread-making skills, which will only improve with more practice. Thanks, Grandma!

Mom's (Great Grandma Michelson's) never-fail dinner rolls
makes 3 dozen

2 c. milk
1/2 c. sugar
2 tsp. salt
2 pkg. dry yeast (or 4 1/2 tsp. dry yeast measured)
5 1/2 to 6 1/2 c. flour
2 eggs, well beaten
1/2 c. melted Crisco (can substitute butter or margarine)

Measure 4 cups of flour into the bowl of your stand mixer and attach the dough hook.

Separately, mix the milk, sugar, and salt, then heat to 100°F. In another bowl, dissolve the yeast along with 1/8 teaspoon sugar into 1/3 cup of 100°F water and wait until the mixture has doubled in size (proofing). Add yeast to the milk mixture. Temper the eggs by stirring in a small amount of the hot milk mixture, then add the eggs and melted Crisco to the milk mixture.

Add the liquid to your bowl and mix well. Scrape the sides to help incorporate the flour. Add flour in 1/2 cup increments, waiting after each addition to see if the dough begins to pull away from the sides of the bowl. As soon as this happens, stop adding flour and let the dough knead until smooth (about 10 minutes).

Place the dough, covered, in a greased bowl then let it rise until doubled in bulk (20 minutes in a warmed but OFF oven). Punch down the dough. Allow the dough to rise for an additional 15 minutes (without re-warming the oven).

Cut into appropriately-sized pieces. Half pound pieces divided into eight are a good dinner roll size, while 3/4 pound pieces divided into six make good hamburger buns. Shape by rolling each piece on a floured surface, using the pressed palm of your cupped hand (see top photo) in a circular motion.

TIP: Grandma laughed at how delicately I thought I needed to treat the dough and said that unlike biscuits, "you can't overwork it." If it feels like you're just rubbing the dough into the board, increase pressure until it begins to roll under your hand.

Place on greased baking pans (or use Silpat baking mats), allowing room between to rise.

TIP: Grandma puts half the batch on the first pan, then allows them to rise in a warmed but OFF oven while rolling out the second half. By the time she's done, the first pan is ready to bake and the second pan, rising more slowly on top of the oven, should be ready when the first batch comes out of the oven.

Bake at 375°F until golden brown (8-10 minutes), then rub the tops with butter while they cool on racks.

TIP: Grandma swears by AirBake cookie sheets, but I went with America's Test Kitchen recommended (see for yourself here: 1 2 3) Vollrath Wear-Ever Half Size Heavy Duty Sheet Pans (13 gauge, model 5314) because ATK's testing showed it is more foolproof (and versatile). And I need that.

Rolls will stay fresh for several days or you can freeze them in an airtight container and reheat a few in the microwave (wrapped in a tea towel) on demand.

To have hot rolls for dinner, begin preparing them 2.5 to 3 hours ahead of time.

smitten with food blogger Deb Perelman

After Thanksgiving, I achieved a blogger book tour trifecta.* Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen, who has never let me down when I need simple, delicious food (mainly of the dessert variety), was on her new cookbook tour and was making a stop in Coolidge Corner. Erin and I had planned months ago to attend. I called Booksmith the day tickets became available, but was 30 minutes too late. The sales associate reassured me that the standby line offered good odds for making it into Deb's talk at the Coolidge, and the book signing was open to everyone, not just ticket holders.

Almost a month later, Erin and I were in the standby line in front of the Coolidge. We chatted about the cookbook as we waited. Erin already had her copy, and she let me flip through as we waited. On the blog Deb's essays complement the recipes like a good glass of wine and provide an extra layer of depth, and her photography is mouthwatering. I had high expectations for the cookbook, and it didn't disappoint.

We slowly moved forward as someone from Booksmith sporadically counted off people from the front of the line. We were two of the last people to make it inside.

Deb was like your amazing next door neighbor: not a slick rehearsed speaker but an endearing storyteller. She gave a quick rundown of how she started the blog and how she happened to write her cookbook, then devoted the rest of the time to answering questions. In response to a query about the number of monthly hits her site gets, she said "8 to 10... million, no big deal" with an embarrassed laugh, and joked that her readers and book tour attendees were all bribed by her mother to read/show up.

After the talk, we were thankful for our late entry to the Coolidge because being at the back of the theater put us near the front of the book signing line. (Tip for author events at Booksmith: buy the book ahead of time, because the book must be purchased before you get in the signing line.) When we got to the table, we had a great conversation with Deb. I told her how a few weeks prior I made her everyday chocolate cake to celebrate a community group birthday, which Deb informed us led her to the red wine velvet cake in the cookbook, which Erin exclaimed she just made for John's birthday. A chain of chocolaty birthday goodness.

Though Ian couldn't join us, he's the cook in our family so I couldn't leave him out of the dedication. He flipped through the cookbook when he got home later that night and we could eat for a month if we executed all of the recipes that made him say "we should make that!" I can't wait.

*In addition to this Smitten Kitchen event, I also attend the Young House Love event at West Elm and a Christina Rosalie event at Trident.

cheddar dill buttermilk biscuits

We stopped in a coffee shop for a snack before watching The Dark Knight Rises with our fellow moody action movie aficionado Brett, and accidentally fell in love with cheddar dill biscuits. I have never before fully appreciated this delectable pairing. Something about the salt and crumble made the flavors shine. And so I vowed to learn the art of cheddar and dill.

I looked up countless recipes online. It was overwhelming. Not surprising, as there are probably as many biscuit recipes in existence as baking grandmothers. So I added fresh chopped dill and shredded Cabot extra sharp white cheddar to my mom's tried and true recipe. The result was more moist and less salty than my inspiration, but I'm not planning on adjusting. We shared them for a Burn Notice double date with friends, then finished the rest for breakfast the next morning.

cheddar dill buttermilk biscuits
makes a dozen

2 c. all-purpose flour
1 tbsp. sugar
1 tbsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 c. (1 stick) margarine
3/4 c. buttermilk
2 tbsp. fresh chopped dill
4 oz. shredded cheddar cheese

In a bowl, stir together the dry ingredients. Cut in margarine until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in dill and cheese. Make a well in the center and add the buttermilk all at once. Stir the dough with a fork until it clings together.

On a lightly floured surface, knead the dough gently for 10 to 12 strokes - DON'T OVER KNEAD or your biscuits will be tough! Roll or pat the dough to 1/2 inch thickness. Cut with a 2 1/2 inch biscuit cutter (or anything that will work similarly), dipping the cutter into flour between cuts to prevent sticking.

Transfer biscuits to an ungreased baking sheet. Bake in a 400F degree oven for 10-12 minutes, or until they are golden brown.

If you don't have buttermilk (or don't want to bother), measure 2 1/4 tsp. white vinegar or lemon juice in a measuring cup and add enough milk to make 3/4 c. Let the mixture sit for 5-10 minutes. You won't be able to tell a difference.

kale chips: a vanishing act

I'm very particular about my vegetables, especially the texture. In most instances, I prefer them raw: salads, veggie sticks, that sort of thing. So one of the benefits to our Boston Organics membership is that it forces me to branch out a little bit. I'm still picky, but expanding my repertoire by finding new ways to eat new-to-me veggies. And I'm a fan of kale chips.

01. Remove the thick center stems of each stalk.
02. Chop into large pieces.
03. Toss in olive oil to coat.
04. Spread out on cookie sheets in a single layer.
04. Sprinkle with sea salt.
06. Bake at 200 degrees until crispy (20-25 minutes in our kitchen).
07. Enjoy.

When we tried a shorter baking time at a higher temperature, we had issues with them tasting burnt. Lesson: they're better when you don't rush it. One bunch made three sheets for us, and the resulting bowl of chips is gone in one sitting.

If you'd asked me last year if I liked kale, you would have gotten an "are you crazy?" look. Now? Bring on the superfood.

strawberries for Sabbath (take 2)

This past Sunday, with Ian canoeing in the Run of the Charles for the third straight year, it fell to me to figure out food for the week. I stopped by Trader Joe's, planned some dinners as I walked through the aisles, and went to check out.

A clever marketer had strategically placed a pallet of fresh strawberries within arm's reach of the line. I didn't see them at first, but the smell of summer stopped me in my tracks. After teasing us with few days of sundress temperatures in March, New England returned to standard spring weather: cold and wet. We can expect this to last through May, so how could I resist a small dose of what we're missing, packaged in red berry form?

I picked up a carton, thinking of the Smitten Kitchen strawberry summer cake I made last summer and loved. I vaguely remembered blogging about it, so when I got home I looked it up. The sun-drenched photos (see above) are such a contrast to this week's forecast. The focus on Sabbath, it pains me to say, is also a contrast to this season.

We've been so busy: Ian has more on his plate at work juggling projects and deadlines, he's studying for his final LARE exam in June, and we've both been pitching in more at [REUNION] and cramming as much as possible into the little free time that remains. While I've done better about accepting what I can and can't do in the time I have (I'm not freaking out that I haven't cleaned the apartment in a month and am successfully ignoring the hair carpeting our bathroom while I catch up on higher priorities, like paying bills and doing laundry), we've failed miserably as of late on resting and infusing meaning into it. We know we need to slow down, prioritize, and say no to good things, but it isn't easy.

I'm thankful for God's gentle and delicious reminder to refocus. This weekend, I'm sitting down and reading through Luke like I said I would, reconnecting with [REUNION] friends, and enjoying a little slice of summer.

strawberries for Sabbath

We've been talking about Sabbath lately — how we, as Christ-followers, are still called to Sabbath, but observing Sabbath isn't simply about following legalistic rules. Our community group brought up a challenge to think about what a day of rest and focus on God would look like for each of us. Ian and I had some good discussions and started by structuring our weekend with all of our chores and errands on Saturday — we felt very intentional. But when Sunday rolled around, we ended up watching Hulu all night because we had only been intentional about not working on Sunday, instead of making Sunday meaningful. So we tried again.

Sunday of Memorial Day weekend resulted in Sabbath growth for us. Ian played in the band at [REUNION], then we headed home to get ready for community group. Ian relaxed and I had the kitchen to myself. I methodically hulled and halved strawberries, mixed up batter for Smitten Kitchen's strawberry summer cake, and assembled, taking photographs along the way.

Once the cake was in the oven, Ian joined me and together we prepared empanadas and cucumber, tomato and feta salad from Bon Appetit magazine.

As we turned off the oven and the apartment started cooling down, our community group began to arrive. We had a great evening of fellowship and learning how to put our faith into practice.

We didn't observe Sabbath in the traditional sense. In fact all of the cooking (plus other electricity usage like lights and electronics) is in direct violation of Sabbath law. But I felt so purposeful. The baking and cooking was relaxing — a different kind of "work" than the rest of the week. Structured but creative. And all of it was about relationships — with others and with God.

We don't have it all figured out, but I think we're on the right track.

chocolate world tour: Tanzania

73% cocoa, subtle fruitiness with a fine hint of vanilla
Ideal pairing: jasmine tea

We don't stock jasmine tea. It's a comforting scent, in that it reminds me of my family's quarterly trips to the nearest Asian food store 1.5 hours away. We'd come home with buko juice, dried mangoes, and at least 200 pounds of rice (as well as a few unsavory — at least to a picky preteen — items like durian and strange vegetables). But for unknown reasons, I don't enjoy tasting that pleasant jasmine scent. Go figure.

So when jasmine tea showed up as the ideal pairing for Tanzania, we were lazy and skipped a grocery run decided to go for a pure chocolate experience.

We first noticed a more pronounced butter flavor than previous chocolate tastings. The "subtle fruitiness" mentioned in the description came through with citrus tendencies. The chocolate was sweet (possibly the vanilla), but also developed a sharper and almost savory taste. It was subtle but pleasant. The bar had a nice snap to it without any chalkiness, and finished smooth in both flavor and texture.

Our friend Grant spent a summer in Tanzania a few years ago, and last summer he was kind enough to share with us his stories and photos. If secondhand experience serves me well, I'd say they managed to infuse the cocoa with the essence of their country. It's just the sort of chocolate I'd want to eat sitting on a white sand beach while watching boats skim over quintessential equatorial waters.

We, of course, had to settle for our living room and an online photo of Zanzibar.

chocolate world tour: Ecuador

66% cocoa, deep chocolate aroma with floral and fruit notes
Ideal pairing: mocha

(We started documenting our chocolate world tour last summer, but drafts have been gathering digital dust in the post editor. It's time.)

The first taste was that floral and fruity type of sweet — "like nectar" according to Ian. More specifically, we could taste berries folded into a baking chocolate flavor. The floral notes were less pronounced, and of the honeysuckle variety.

The texture was light, and pleasantly adhered itself to teeth, allowing us to savor the building flavor just a little longer, which concluded with a bite in the aftertaste. Ian described the experience as "a roll of thunder." He's good at those catchphrases.

We didn't have mocha and were uninspired to trek to Starbucks, so we improvised and mixed hot chocolate with extra strength french-pressed coffee. Combining this quasi-mocha with the chocolate resulted in a chocolate chip cookie taste, and the chocolate itself was sweeter with a more centered flavor. The added sweetness balanced the coffee aftertaste and chocolate bite for a scrumptious lingering flavor.

Well done Ecuador, well done.

a CookieFest throwdown

Our last Saturday in Boston before home and Christmas was reserved for CookieFest.

After speeding through our final bits of Christmas shopping and wrapping, I settled in the kitchen for my first ever attempt at Grandma's spritz recipe.

I've wanted to make these for a while now, because it doesn't feel like Christmas until I've had one of these butter cookies. They melt into nothing, leaving behind a deliciously sweet almond flavor that makes you crave more. I kept putting it off — they are intimidating, but the tasting contest at CookieFest finally gave me the motivation of a deadline.

So, armed with a vintage cookie press Grandma gave me last December, I tossed the butter and sugar in the KitchenAid and crossed my fingers.

After some trial and error with the cookie press, I got into the swing of things. They came out of the oven with that barely golden edge, and they were edible. Unfortunately, I think I added just a smidge too much flour, so they didn't quite measure up to Grandma's (that means I need to practice; friends in Boston, you've been warned).

We packed up the spritz anyway and headed to Brett and Emily's in time to help with the sugar cookies for the decorating contest. From there the doorbell kept ringing, cookies kept piling on the table, and the competitions commenced.

Erin snagged the golden reindeer in the tasting competition, while the snowboarder's lodge won the gingerbread house competition — judged by real architects Dan and Ian.

I think Erin, Wen, and I's turned out pretty good though. Ian assured me we had the best landscape. I'm sure that has nothing to do with the fact that we're married.

A speed sugar cookie decorating session followed, and Erin and Gerald awarded the third and final golden reindeer to Jenny, three-year CookieFest veteran.

Exhausted, the remaining CookieFesters settled in for Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. This was my first time to see it in it's entirety, and while the look-beyond-appearance message is a good one, I was surprised at the sexism ("the important thing was to get the women back to Christmas Town" ... really?) Critique aside, it was a fun bonding experience, and we could all laugh together in the progress society has made since.

After the movie, we trudged home and collapsed in bed, half wishing we hadn't eaten quite so many cookies.

Thanks to Brett and Emily for hosting this great event — we can't wait for next year.

Happy Thanksgiving from Boston

eight great friends.

22 pounds of turkey nicknamed "big boy."

one great Thanksgiving in Boston.

Hope you had a wonderful holiday with plenty of thanks.

chocolate world tour: Peru

60% cocoa, well-rounded with subtle jasmine notes and a clean finish
Ideal pairing: cabernet sauvignon

I confess, Peru was shortchanged. We were relaxing with Micki and the chocolate bar disappeared with very few tasting notes and no pairing. I did, however, manage to write down two descriptors: "creamy" and "the epitome of dark chocolate." I think it's safe to say this was a satisfying end to an evening with good company.

chocolate world tour: São Thomé

70% cocoa, intense cocoa flavor with an exciting bitterness
Ideal pairing: dry roasted almonds

As we unwrapped the São Thomé bar, a nutty baking chocolate smell wafted past the foil. The first taste revealed a deep molasses flavor, and floral (jasmine in particular) and earthy components. A hint of rubber snuck in, but not in any unpleasant way - more of a memory of summer bike rides than an actual, tangible flavor.

The texture of the chocolate was a good match for roasted almonds - thicker, so it coated the nuts as I chewed. The chocolate was a little bitter at first, but the almond balanced this. It reminded us of hot chocolate at Cafe by the Ruins in Baguio - rich dark chocolate bits melted into steaming carabao milk - if you drank it sitting next to a cozy campfire, everything taking on a hint of woodsmoke.

Since coming back from the Philippines, I get sporadic craving for a cup of Rizal's hot chocolate. It's nice to get some satisfaction without a $2,000 plane ticket.

chocolate world tour: Venezuela

70% cocoa, unique mild taste with hints of floral and dried grasses
ideal pairing: Earl Grey tea

The Venezuela kicked off our chocolate tour with a strong, rich scent, reminiscent of a good dark hot chocolate. It started off dry and sweet but darkened the longer we savored it. On a texture scale, it was evenly balanced between smooth and chalky — there was a sharp snap but it wasn't too dry.

After an initial taste, we combined it with Harney & Sons Earl Grey tea. This brought out more dry, grassy flavors in the chocolate. It was almost musty, like a hay bale in the summertime, and the tart and bitterness of the chocolate came through more as well. The chocolate also heightened these flavors in the tea.

Wine is the usual suspect for in-depth flavor analysis, so I find it delightfully intriguing that other foods also have a deep complexity of flavor. Hello again, chocolate. It's nice to know you've grown up alongside me.

TJ's chocolate palette world tour

Several months ago, Trader Joe's offered a special stack of chocolate bars. Dark chocolate bars from eight different countries, each with a distinct flavor and recommended pairing. Ian and I love this sort of thing (evidenced in our Jones Soda reviews), and I'm a huge fan of dark chocolate. So we tossed it into the cart.

We're still working through the bars — for some reason we've been unmotivated to pick up the recommended pairing items so they're chilling in our fridge. Yes, I know that discolors the chocolate. But it was the only way for the chocolate to survive the hot, humid late summer months — room temperature butter was puddling so you can imagine what chocolate bars would have looked like sitting out. I digress.

To motivate us into finishing our grand chocolate world tour, I'm blogging about it. Watch for reviews soon!

tomato bread salad

We slightly adapted this recipe from the June issue of Better Homes and Gardens. It's great on a hot summer night, but I have a feeling this will still be tasty in the dead of winter next to a piping hot chicken breast.

tomato bread salad
6-8 servings
prep: 35 minutes, chill: overnight

4 medium roma tomatoes, cut in 1-inch chunks
1/2 of a medium red onion, cut in thin wedges (1/2 cup)
1 medium yellow sweet pepper, cut in 1 inch pieces
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 tbsp. Dijon-style mustard
1/2 tsp. italian seasoning, crushed (or whatever italian-ish dried herbs you have — we used oregano)
8 oz. ciabatta or focaccia bread, cut in 1-inch pieces
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 cup small fresh basil leaves
16 oz. fresh mozzarella cheese, cut in 1-inch cubes

Toss together the tomatoes, red onion, yellow sweet pepper and mozzarella in a large serving bowl.

In a screw-top container, combine 1/4 cup olive oil, red wine vinegar, mustard, italian seasoning, 1/2 tsp. salt, and 1/4 tsp. black pepper (a reused salad dressing bottle comes in handy here). Cover and shake well. Pour over the veggies and stir to coat. Cover the bowl and refrigerate overnight (up to 24 hours).

Preheat the oven to 400F. In a shallow baking pan, toss bread cubes with 1 tbsp. olive oil to coat. Bake for about 10 minutes or until toasted (see photo below), stirring once. Allow the cubes to cool on the pan. Snacking on the bread cubes is recommended — just save some for the salad!

Add the bread cubes and basil to the salad bowl and toss it all together.

If you know you'll have leftovers, it would be optimal to keep the bread cubes separate so they don't get soggy. But really, it's tasty even if the bread isn't crunchy.

This would be a great way to savor some of the final bits of fresh garden produce from the summer. Hope you enjoy!

exploring our mint jungle: mint infused water

There are a lot of drink recipes, cocktails and otherwise, that call for mint. But quite frankly, when it's hot and humid, I'm not really motivated to go to the store for the rest of the ingredients. Then I saw an ad in Real Simple magazine for "Metromint" water and I knew that instead of paying for refreshing mint water, I'd do a little at-home experiment.

And it was successful! I threw three large sprigs of peppermint and chocolate mint in a pitcher of ice water. The hint of mint adds extra cooling refreshment — perfect for a hot summer day. And the mint sprigs can be reused for a couple refills.

I'm definitely more motivated to get my 6 glasses a day when it tastes like this!

exploring our mint jungle

I'd been wanting to buy mint for a while. Particularly chocolate mint. I searched high and low, and finally decided to settle for peppermint and orange mint from Trader Joe's at $2.99 a pop. Then we ran into the Copley farmers' market which, of course, had lots of chocolate mint plants for just $3. And then there were three.

Ian insisted that, if we're going to keep all of the mint plants, we have to use it. A lot. So I keep my eyes peeled for new ways to use mint, which I gladly share with you! Stay tuned for recipes and ideas featuring our mint jungle!

we shop at Trader Joe's part 3, i.e. Ian won... again.

I don't think Ian can continue arguing he isn't lucky. He won the Trader Joe's Bring Your Own Bag raffle for a second time. No complaints from me though — who doesn't love free groceries!

we shop at Trader Joe's part 2

When you bring your own bag to Trader Joe's, you are eligible to enter the b.y.o.b. raffle that happens every so often.

The other day, Ian got a call from Trader Joe's. He won. His ridiculous good luck is why I can't competitively play board games with him. But it makes me want to send him grocery shopping with our bags more often.

At work, several people noted they've been entering for years and have never won. Needless to say, he got more dirty looks than congratulations, but we're happy to share the prize package with all of you!

• reusable canvas bag
• box of Joe's O's
• Joe coffee — medium roast
• jar of peach halves
• snack packs of dry-roasted unsalted almonds
• red pepper spread with eggplant and garlic
• crunchy & salted valencia peanut butter with roasted flaxseeds
• deli-style spicy brown mustard
• dried sweetened hibiscus flowers (similar to fruit roll-ups in taste and texture)

The night Ian entered the eventual winning ticket was stressful: getting home late, everything going wrong. He rode his bike to pick up last minute dinner ingredients while carrying two bags of bottles to recycle. Winning made that day a little better in retrospect. So thanks, Trader Joe's!