Barilla® Spaghetti with Chicken & Spicy Tomato Sauce

In honor of Mother's Day, I've got a recipe that's great for bringing all of the special women in your life -- both seasoned cooks and beginners -- into the kitchen. In my family, celebrating with food is one of the ultimate ways to show love and appreciation, and I can thank the ladies in my family for helping me cultivate my passion for food.

I often say my Abuela {grandma} taught me how to cook. But just recently, as I was standing at my kitchen sink measuring out water for a simple pot of rice, I realized that my claim is not entirely true.

I remember the exact moment I first asked Abuela how to make rice as I had watched her do so many times before. "Oh, it's easy," she told me in Spanish. "You just heat a splash of oil in a pot, then toss in your rice. Give it a good mix, and when it sizzles a little, add your liquid. Bring it to a boil, then lower the heat and let it simmer until it's cooked."

I paused for a moment and reflected thoughtfully on the information I felt I might be missing. "A splash of oil, you say? But how much is that?"

She lifted her hand up as if she were holding an invisible bottle of oil, tilted the bottle for a second -- just enough to measure out the correct amount needed as if she were counting beats of music in her head -- then pulled it upright again with a flourish.

I gave her a look. "Okay...but the water? How much?"

As patient as she always was with me, I could tell she was starting to grow slightly annoyed at my pestering over seemingly unimportant {to her} details when she had already given me a satisfactory answer to my initial question.

"Well... It depends on the amount of rice. But if you're making this much," she gestured with her hands to hold an imaginary pile of rice, "then I'd say about a cup and two fingers."

Wait a minute. I had heard of lot of measurements -- a pinch, a pat, a scant amount -- but I had never heard of measuring any ingredient in fingers. Well, except a stiff whiskey drink, and Abuela had never been a drinker.

I laughed at her directions, and she defended herself. "You asked me how I do it. And that's how I do it."

Accurate, perhaps, but hardly helpful for a novice in the kitchen. Regardless of my cluelessness and armed with meaningless measurements, I forged ahead and added rice to the (very short) list of items I "knew" how to make... in theory, anyway. Because the fact is that I had more attempts at making what my husband calls "Abuela Rice" than any individual who considers herself somewhat intelligent should.

We had sticky rice. Crunchy rice. Black-bottomed rice. Toasty rice, and rice masquerading as soup.
Each time, I'd do my best to channel Abuela, and each time I'd pretty much fail.

Until one day... I didn't. The day finally came when I lifted the lid off the pot, fluffed up the rice with a fork, and thought to myself, "Now this looks like something I recognize."

In my kitchen, "a cup and two fingers" of water (which translates by measurement into roughly 1 1/4 cups, in case you were wondering) will always be the rule of thumb... though that's not the finger I use for measuring! That's how my Abuela "taught" me to make it, even though most of the learning happened on my own. Maybe that's what she had intended from the beginning.

Since then, she's retired from her family cooking duties {she is 91 years old and only recently lost much of her mobility}, but she's entrusted me with other recipes that are special to my family and even given her seal of approval on my renditions, which she kindly passes off as delicious.

But I don't kid myself. No one can cook like Abuela. Some of us learn to cook while others are born with the ability to take food and create a little magic like Abuela always has.

Luckily, this recipe for Spaghetti with Chicken & Spicy Tomato Sauce requires way less precision than Abuela's rice thanks to Barilla® Spaghetti. Chicken simmers away in a savory sauce with just a hint of spiciness, creating a tender-but-hearty addition to spaghetti. Easy to find at your local Walmart and even easier to cook, it's a pantry staple for fast family meals. Just a quick boil and you have delicious, al dente pasta that's perfect for pairing with seafood, veggies or chicken, as it is in this dish.

Celebrate togetherness this weekend gathered around the table!

This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Barilla. The opinions and text are all mine.

Barilla Spaghetti with Chicken & Spicy Tomato Sauce 
Recipe provided by Barilla®

1 box Barilla® Spaghetti
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 chicken thighs, boneless diced into ½-inch pieces
1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves only, divided
1 jalapeño pepper, or to taste, sliced
½ cup white wine, dry (optional)
2 pounds plum tomatoes, crushed
Salt to taste
½ cup Cotija cheese, grated

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Meanwhile, in a skillet, brown the chicken thighs with ½ of the olive oil. Add ½ tablespoon oregano and jalapeño pepper; after one minute, stir in white wine (optional); reduce to half. Add tomatoes, one cup of water, season with salt and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, cook pasta according to package directions. Drain pasta and toss with sauce. Stir in remaining olive oil and cheese. Garnish with remaining oregano before serving.

Blackberry-Sage Lemonade

Remember when I mentioned that I am a little paranoid in the kitchen when it comes to raw meat and potential hazards? Well, over the weekend I discovered that fondue-style cooking is not the ideal preparation of a meal for a gal like me.

My parents-in-law celebrated their 45th wedding anniversary {!} and made reservations for a family dinner at a popular fondue spot. {I'm sure you know the one.} Honestly, few things sound better to me than a vat of melted cheese with assorted dippers, followed by a cauldron of melted chocolate for dessert.

What I didn't think through, however, was the entree portion of the dining experience. I mean, don't get me wrong, the process is so much fun -- sitting around a table skewering bite-sized pieces of yummy food and cooking together over chatter and, in our case, family antics. But the moment the raw meat and seafood arrived at the table, the neurotic part of me was challenged to a battle between sense of adventure and utter repugnance.

Most people wouldn't give it a second thought: Stab the meat, plop it in the simmering pot, cook and enjoy.

But clearly, I'm not that simple. Suddenly I found myself obsessing over what my skewers had touched, whether or not they'd been sufficiently boiled in the hot liquid and paying close attention to the distance between my cooked foods and my non-cooked foods. {Which, by the way, you could probably seat me at a 10-foot-long table and they'd still never seem far enough away from one another.}

On my end of the table sat some of my favorite people on the face of this planet: Steve's 90-something grandma, great aunt and great uncle. {Yes, they are ALL in their 90's! Amazing genes.} We were tasked with sharing one pot of bubbling broth to cook our food. This would have been more than fine except for the fact that, when you are a nonagenarian, your reflexes and memory are not what they used to be at times. So harpooning small pieces of meat with a sharp skewer, putting your hand near an open heat source and remembering which piece you put in and how long you're supposed to cook it can easily become a three-ring circus. {In all fairness, they did a pretty good job considering except for a few times when I'm pretty sure Uncle Mike ate raw meat. No harm, no foul.}

The problem was not with them but more so with the fact that since I'm not a red meat eater, the majority of my meal was shrimp. And shrimp cooks much faster than the hunks of filet the rest of my fondue cohorts were eating. Plus, it has way less bacterial juiciness happening than a fresh cut of beef, let's say. So, as I would nearly be done cooking my shrimp to temperature, they would all be adding RAW meat to the tub.

I'm sorry, but how is this considered sanitary?! Haha... I have to laugh at myself.

The point is, I spent more time worrying about things like salmonella and food poisoning than anything else. Except for when dessert came around -- then all bets were off. ;) I have a feeling my father-in-law was having the same thoughts on the other end of the table as he and I are similar when it comes to our finicky nature with food safety.

On the plus side, we had a wonderful time in every other way. AND I came away from dinner with inspiration for a new beverage: Blackberry-Sage Lemonade.

Since I haven't been able to enjoy any cocktails for the past {almost} 5 months, I've been super creative with fun things to drink, as is evident by all the mocktails I've been sharing lately. Isn't it great that it's going hand in hand with the rise in summertime temps?

I mean, tell me you don't want to sip on this on a sunny day.

Blend this up in a wink and enjoy a cool glass -- no neuroses necessary. ;)

Blackberry-Sage Lemonade
Inspired by The Melting Pot Restaurant
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup sugar
3-4 lemons, juiced {about 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice}
6 oz. container of blackberries {save some for garnish if desired}
2-3 cups water
Fresh sage leaves

1. Make simple syrup: Combine water and sugar in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat; allow to simmer for about 1 minute or until the sugar has dissolved completely. Remove from heat and allow to cool.

2. Add lemon juice, blackberries and cooled simple syrup to a blender. Process until smooth.

3. Pour through a fine mesh strainer into a pitcher or glass container. Add about 2-3 cups of water depending on how diluted you'd like your beverage.

4. Place 4 or 5 fresh sage leaves in each glass and muddle slightly to release some of the fragrance. Top with ice and fill with lemonade. Garnish with a few blackberries if desired.

*I tend to like my lemonade more on the tart side than than the sweet side. You can make and add more simple syrup if you'd like it sweeter.

Dill Pickle Dip + News!

Well... I've got some news. I've been baking something other than cookies for a little while now.

Some of you might have even suspected from my Instagram {Tummy troubles? Ginger ale? Where are all the weekend cocktails?} & lack of posting that something's been going on. So, I'm here to confirm that there is indeed some "Baby Prep" on the horizon for our little family!

Tomorrow will mark 14 weeks of baking for this little {stud} muffin and I'm still in a bit of disbelief! {We totally cheated and took a special blood test at 10 weeks that revealed the sex of the baby... a BOY!} I imagine this growing belly will help make it a bit more real soon enough.

I've always been extremely honest about the fact that, while children have been part of what I've imagined for my family in the future, having a baby has been a more difficult idea to wrap my brain around. It's one of those things that was VERY distant hope for my life. As in, "One day, I hope to start a family." When "one day" actually arrives, it can be somewhat unnerving! {Plus, we all know how I well I deal with change.}

As a result, as much as I am beyond thrilled and grateful to be able to experience this very precious and life- changing event, I'm also still "me." I'm telling you this because I don't ever want anyone to misinterpret my frankness and think that I don't realize how much of a blessing it is to be in this position.

But, at the same time, some people are born to be mommies in all their glowing, expectant glory, craving tiny belongings and diaper bags and nighttime feedings right along with their pickles and ice cream. And some people {hi.} realize that in order to get to the desired result {i.e. a child who will one day be old enough to wipe his or her own tush and have a conversation with} there must be swollen ankles and sleep deprivation and so.very.much.poop. Where some might think of all the warm fuzzy things that come with motherhood, I've always generally given the most thought to the reality of the situation -- the things that must be passed through and survived.

Does that sound terrible? I hope not. I love a tiny, squishy baby as much as the next gal, I really do. When my dear friend gave birth to her son a few years ago, I would visit her and put that sweet baby on my chest while he snoozed peacefully, breathing in his baby smell thinking, "This feeling should be bottled and sold." And he didn't even belong to me.

I am excited about being able to sniff my own baby boy. No, wait. That probably doesn't sound right. But you know what I mean.

Pregnancy has been an interesting new experience in my life which -- as you know--  mostly revolves around food. As I've watched many of my favorite bloggers navigate the ups and downs of expecting, I always secretly prayed that I would be spared of the tummy troubles that often come as part of the package deal in the event that I should ever become pregnant. Because it's difficult to make, write about and photograph food when you can barely entertain the idea of a grilled cheese sandwich.

And so... around the 5 week mark, the struggle began with balancing my desire to continue to cook and post with the complete disgust I was feeling for food in general. Hence my disappearing act from blogging and social media for a while.

Oddly, the things I couldn't stand to look at were the things I couldn't get enough of in the first few weeks. I went from intense cravings for healthy things like chickpeas, broccoli rabe and greens of all kinds to hardly mustering enough appetite to nibble on some dry toast. Nausea 24/7 is a plight I do not wish upon my worst enemy. I am so very grateful that this only lasted a few weeks, and that the nausea never progressed into full blown sickness because that would have rendered me completely useless {as opposed to only partially useless}.

Because Mother Nature is a wise and benevolent soul, I'm happy to report that my appetite has fully returned and that I hope to keep up the posting for the remainder of my pregnancy. That doesn't mean you won't see some weird combinations at some point, but I'll do my best to keep it fun for all around here.

I also vow not to go full-on Mama Mode on you now that there's a bun in the oven. When there's an update or a preggo-heavy post happening, I'll label it with "Baby Prep" so that those of you who aren't interested in hearing about heartburn, cravings and nurseries will have a red flag to skip directly to the recipe. Sound fair?

Anyway, I'm glad the news is finally out because I'm terrible at keeping secrets! I'm so thankful to have you on this journey with me and can't wait to introduce you to my little sous-chef come November!

Until then... here's to healthy appetites, nights of uninterrupted slumber {minus all the bathroom breaks} and great expectations for the future. xo

......................................................................

I had to do it. Something totally cliche as far as pregnancy goes: Pickles.

To be completely honest, I have ALWAYS been a fan of pickles. I could easily eat them by the jar. So I can't blame the pickle love on the baby. 

But I have found that tart and vinegary things have become even more appealing now that I'm pregnant. Tart grapes, pepperoncini, grapefruit, lemonade... there's just something about that lip-puckering taste that makes my tummy happy.

Here's something I discovered quickly: Many pickles and pickled peppers contain yellow #5 to give them that traditional green color. Yuck. If I'm not going to indulge in sushi, wine or imported cheese, then I'm certainly not going to purposely eat boatloads of artificial coloring. 

Luckily, Claussen knows what's up. They're the pickles you can find in the refrigerated section at the grocery store, and I am forever grateful to them for not buckling under the pressure of keeping pickles Kermit green. They're crunchy, flavorful and delicious. Though I'm still eating them sparingly, I really enjoy them as a salty, vinegary treat! 

So, why not turn them into a dip? 

If you're not pregnant and/or you're not pickle-lover {i.e. my little sister, who gags at the mere mention}, you may have stopped reading at the first mention of pickles. But if you're among my pickle-loving friends, rejoice. This is the stuff that dilly dreams are made of. :)

Dill Pickle Dip 

Ever-so-slightly adapted from Barefeet in the Kitchen, originally from Foodie with Family

1 package {8 oz.} cream cheese, softened
1 1/4 cups dill pickles, finely chopped
1/4 cup sweet onion, such as Vidalia, finely chopped
2 -3 tablespoons pickle juice from jar {more for thinner dip, less for thicker}
1/2 teaspoon dill weed
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Pinch of pepper

1. In a medium bowl combine all ingredients. {I used a hand held mixer to make sure everything was well combined. This will break up the pickles a little more, but I didn't mind that. If you'd like to put some muscle into it, mix with a spoon.}

2. Transfer to a serving bowl and refrigerate for an hour or more for flavors to marry. Serve with crackers, crudites or whatever you're craving! ;)

Hearty Turkey Chili {and All About Farley}

If you follow TKP on Facebook {or Instagram!}, you might have seen my announcement about getting a new family member a few months ago.

Meet Farley.

{Farley Stewart, to be exact. He shares a birthday with a certain cooking/crafting guru, so we thought the middle name was a must.}

He's sort of become The Kitchen Prep's unofficial mascot... I kind of can't stop taking pictures of his precious face. {Hey, I tried not to turn into one of those people... but look at him. He's pretty darn cute.}

Squishy-bear.

Our first few days with Farley were... exhausting interesting. I'd never personally trained a puppy before. Steve & I both had dogs as kids, but were too young to really be involved in the whole training process.

So all this puppy business was pretty new to me.

Getting a puppy has been a crash course in patience {a virtue which I wouldn't necessarily list among my top attributes}.

In fact, Farley and I seemed to be quite the opposite of one another in the first few weeks we had him.

Me: Deliberate. Planner. Neat. Clean.

Farley: Undisciplined. Distracted. Messy. Stinky.

Though we had our tense moments, we quickly found that we do have some things in common. We both like to cuddle. We both enjoy broccoli {Though I enjoy eating it & he enjoys using it as a chew toy and pouncing on it. Strange pup.}. We like a nice bath, and even getting our hair/fur blowdried. We enjoy eating. {Me? Food. Farley? Just about anything that he can get his needle-sharp tiny puppy teeth on.}We're both a little stubborn & have a mind of our own.

 

These last 3 months have been about getting used to one another and learning each other's preferences little by little.

He had a lot of learning to do, as did I. 

And now, Farley's become an integral part of our family. To the point that I'm pretty sure Steve and I have only had date nights at dog-friendly restaurants ever since we got him. Wherever we go, Farley goes.

Kayaking. The Beach. Work {with the hubby... one of the perks of owning your own business}. Family gatherings. Community events. Sometimes he even hints that maybe he's had enough of the gallavanting and excessive picture-taking.

 Enough already, paparazzo.

Farley is there with us, making people smile and attracting perfect strangers to come over and say hello or share a story about a yellow lab they once had with a nostalgic look in their eye.

Last week was rough for our little family because we found out that Farley has severe hip dysplasia, a problem common to many large breeds, which means that he will have to have surgery. This is a hard pill to swallow since he is just barely 6 months old and we hope that he has a long, healthy life ahead of him.

It is difficult to watch him hobble around and heartbreaking to call to our fun-loving pup and have him stare back at us with a look that says, "I'd love to play, but I just can't right now." We are getting opinions from the best of the best and hoping that soon Farley will be back to chasing his tail and investigating the world, as a growing puppy should.

 

This picture says it all.

Until then, we're doing what we can to help him get better and tending to our own hearts with snuggles and comforting dishes... because we know that food can help heal the soul.

 

This Hearty Turkey Chili is a good start. Rich, robust, and warming, it serves as both a filling dish and a cure for what ails you.

Hearty Turkey Chili

2 tablespoons oil
1 {small to medium} onion, diced
1 jalapeno, finely diced {remove seeds and membrane for less kick}
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 pound ground turkey {you can use lean if you'd like}
1 heaping tablespoon chili
1 1/2 teaspoons coriander
1 teaspoon cumin
1/4 teaspoon oregano
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 cans low sodium pinto beans, rinsed and drained
1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 {8 oz.} can tomato sauce
1 can diced tomatoes
2 cups chicken broth
2 heaping tablespoons yellow cornmeal
1 tablespoon fresh cilantro, finely chopped

1. In a large dutch oven, heat about 2 tablespoons of oil over medium high heat. Add onion and jalapeno and saute until tender, about 4-5 minutes. Add garlic and cook for one minute.

2. Add ground turkey and cook, breaking meat up with a wooden spoon. Cook until meat is crumbly and no longer pink, about 7-8 minutes. Add chili, coriander, cumin, oregano, and sea salt and cook, stirring, for a minute or two.

3. Gently mix in beans, tomato sauce, and diced tomatoes until well incorporated. Pour in chicken broth and gently stir to combine.

4. Bring chili up to a boil. Stir in yellow cornmeal, return to a boil, then reduce heat to medium and let simmer for about 25 minutes until thickened, stirring occasionally and scraping the bottom of the pot to ensure nothing is sticking. In the last 5 minutes of cooking, stir in fresh cilantro.

5. Ladle into bowls and serve hot.

Optional: Top with grated cheese, sour cream or Greek yogurt, and chopped cilantro. Serve with tortilla chips or cornbread.

NYC Life Lessons & "Big Apple" Toffee Crumble Pizza

If it weren't for the fact that I'm pretty sure I would spend the majority of my time completely lost on the subway {I have ZERO sense of direction... throw in some letters, numbers, and fast moving trains & we have a major problem}, I think I'd move to New York City.

I was smitten with the city upon my first visit {which was actually only a few years ago}, even though it only lasted about a day. I knew immediately that I had to return.

The next time I visited, I stayed for 5 days because there was just no way that I could've squeezed in even a fraction of the things I wanted to see. I left even more in love than the first time. {And I still felt like I hadn't even made a dent on my list of things to do.}

When my little sister turned 21 this past September, I wanted to give her a special gift she'd always remember. After much deliberation, I decided on the ultimate birthday gift: A weekend trip to NYC.

Turning 21 is an exciting time. You have your whole life ahead of you and the potential is limitless. You're young enough to still have a lot to learn about the world, and old enough to have already started to figure some things out. You are getting a sense of who you are and where you belong while balancing who you've become and where you've come from.

New York City, while being a place of great fun and seemingly endless experiences, is also a great place to learn some important life lessons.

So, I thought I'd put together a little recap of our trip, complete with the pearls of wisdom the city has to offer...


Sometimes you will discover delightful things where you least expect them.

A tiny snowman found on the stairs in Central Park.

What's odd to some, is totally normal to others. Appreciate diversity.

Minnie, casually crossing the street in Times Square.

At times, life will seem like quite a climb...

Slipping Climbing up a rock in Central Park.

...But when you reach the top, you will realize it was all worth it.

It never hurts to be well-read.

Left: Mary with Hans in Central Park., Center: At the Alice in Wonderland statue.
Right: Hans Christian Anderson statue in Central Park.

No matter how old you get, stay young at heart.

Playing in the Eloise section of The Plaza Hotel.

Eat well.

Clockwise from left: 1. Bagels in the morning from Leo's. 2. Cannoli from Ferrarra Bakery. 3. Ferrara Bakery 4. Margherita Pizza from Caffe Napoli in Little Italy, 5. Breakfast at Katz's Delicatessen {from When Harry Met Sally},
 6. Lunch at Caffe Napoli,7. Mini Cupcakes from Baked by Melissa. Bottom: Gelato from Ferrara Bakery

Frolick often.

Mary, happy to be in Times Square.

Love much.

There's nothing wrong with having a cupcake for dinner every once in a while.

Exhausted and ready for a cupcake dinner from Magnolia Bakery.

Life will get busy sometimes. It will seem like there's simply not enough time for everything that needs to be done.

Alice in Wonderland March Hare sculpture in Central Park.

But take some time to smell the flowers... or the leaves.

In all the madness, try to find a place to be quiet and still.

It's not always necessary to win the race. Sometimes just floating along will be the true reward.

Conservatory Water, Central Park

Don't take yourself too seriously. Laugh at your mistakes.

Menu typo...  :)

There is beauty in vulnerability.

A bare tree in Central Park.

You may be pushed down, experience tragedy, and think that you can't go on. But there is always a chance to rebuild. The human spirit is stronger than we can possibly imagine.

A view of Freedom Tower from St. Paul's Chapel graveyard.

We had an amazing time exploring the city, and Mary caught the NYC bug. In our short weekend there we were able to see so much, do so much, and experience so much together, and in the end it really was the perfect 21st birthday gift.

"There is no better friend than a sister. And there is no better sister than you." - Unknown

I'm leaving you with a little memento of our trip: "Big Apple" Toffee Crumble Pizza. Apple to remind us of NYC's moniker, pizza because it's a New York staple, and sweet toffee & spices to bring back memories of the fall.

We <3 NY. :)

"Big Apple" Toffee Crumble Pizza
adapted from Taste of the South

For Crust:

1 store bought pizza dough, or homemade. I used the following recipe:

1 packet active dry yeast
1 tablespoon sugar
1 1/4 cups warm water
2 tablespoons butter, melted
3 cups flour

1. Combine yeast, sugar, and warm water in the bowl of a stand mixer. Let sit for 5 minutes or until yeast starts to foam or bubble. {If it never does, you may need new yeast.}

2. Add melted butter and mix.

3. Beat flour, one cup at a time, into yeast mixture until a dough ball forms.

4. Change to dough hook, or turn out onto a floured surface, and knead for about 5 minutes.

5. Place in an oiled bowl and allow to rise for approximately 1 hour or until just about doubled in size.

For Toffee Crumble:

1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup brown sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted
1/2 cup toffee or brickle chips {such as Heath Bits'o Brickle}

1. In a small bowl, combine flour, sugar, and butter.
2. Stir in toffee bits.
3. Set aside.

For Apple Topping:

4 Granny Smith Apples, peeled, cored, & chopped
1/4 cup {4 tablespoons} butter
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1/4 cup water

1. In a large skillet, combine chopped apples, butter, sugar, cinnamon & nutmeg. Cook over medium high heat, stirring often, until apples begin to get tender.

2. Dissolve cornstarch in water in a small cup to make a slurry.

3. Add cornstarch mixture to apple mixture, and cook for another minute or 2 until thickened and bubbly.

4. Set aside to cool slightly.

Assemble & Bake Pizza:

1. Arrange dough on a pizza pan or stone. Brush with about 1 tablespoon of melted butter.
2. Bake at 450 degrees for about 10 minutes.
3. Remove from oven & reduce heat to 400 degrees.
4. Spread apple topping evenly over pizza dough.
5. Sprinkle with toffee crumble.
6. Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until golden.

Pink Ribbon Pretzels

Has this month just flown by, or what? {Michael's was setting up their Christmas aisle displays when I popped in last week... slow it down, people!}

I think October is one of those months that zooms by because it is bursting at the seams with so many things to celebrate: the changes of Fall, Oktoberfest, Halloween, and the return of Pumpkin Spice everything! 

As I've mentioned, I've had a hard time keeping up with posting about all of the October-related events and recipes, but before the month is officially over and we're onto the next holiday, there's one more important event to tend to: Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

I know I keep it pretty light around here with recipes and goofiness, but I thought I'd share a little something personal. Next month, my family and I will be celebrating our own special event: The one year anniversary of the end of my Mom's treatment for breast cancer.

My Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer in January 2011. It was a scary time for all of us for obvious reasons. The diagnoses of any illness brings about a lot of anxiety and uncertainty - How serious is it? How do we begin to treat it? What reaction will the person have to the treatment? Will the illness return?

Fortunately, my Mom's cancer was detected early {she has always been very good about check ups and screenings} and she underwent treatment like a champ. She had both chemotherapy and radiation, both of which she endured without most of the major side effects that we feared. And while cancer most definitely left mental and emotional scars on all of us, we were thrilled to see her be able to close that chapter upon receiving her final treatment last November.

I always suspected it before, but after her ordeal it was pretty certain that my Mom is, indeed, a superhero. ;)

Today, thanks to her doctors, prayers, and the Lord's healing, she is healthy and cancer-free.

It is alarming how many women of all ages I know personally or know of that have also fought their own battle with breast cancer. It is a disease that claims far too many precious lives, and causes heartbreak and turmoil for all involved. And while it is frustrating that there isn't much we can do about the damage cancer has already caused to so many out there, we can take away some of its power by educating ourselves and others about prevention & detection.

When my Mom was going through her trials with cancer, I cooked and baked to keep my mind off of the negative. I remember actually baking a King Cake last year as she recovered from her lumpectomy on the couch in my living room. {Leave it to me!} And as she was getting ready to finish up her treatment, I was spending hours in the kitchen passing the time with Fall baking and planning Thanksgiving goodies {though we wound up not really celebrating Thanksgiving last year... when it rains, it pours}.

Today I'm sharing a recipe that isn't meant to help us forget, but rather, that is meant to serve as a reminder - of my Mom's spunk, of all that's been overcome, of the journey that's lead us to where we are today.

It's a symbol of strength for those who are weakened by the grip of this illness; of support for those who are standing by loved ones as they fight; of community for those who are feeling alone as they wage their own wars.  It's a remembrance of those who are dearly missed; a salute to those who are giving it their all to stay here with us; a medal for those who have emerged victorious.

It's a reminder that we are united - bound together by the common bonds of love and hope.

All of those things tied up in one little pink ribbon.

Sometimes we need those reminders.

I'm glad to be baking today as a celebration instead of a distraction. And I pray that one day the pink ribbon will simply be a memory of something that no longer exists.

Pink Ribbon Pretzels
recipe adapted from King Arthur Flour

For Pretzel Dough:

3 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/4 teaspoons {1 packet} instant yeast
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon canola oil or melted butter
Approximately 1 cup warm water

For Dipping Solution:

1 cup water, heated
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon sugar

Topping Options:

Kosher or sea salt
3-4 tablespoons butter, melted
Cinnamon-Sugar
Pink Candy Melts



1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine all pretzel dough ingredients. {Add water slowly until a soft dough forms, you may not need all of it. Or, if dough looks a little dry, add a tablespoon or two more water.}

2. Knead {by hand or by machine} for 5 minutes. Allow to rest and rise in a warm, dark place for 30 minutes.

3. Prepare dipping solution: Combine 1 cup hot water with 2 teaspoons baking soda, and 1 teaspoon sugar. Stir until completely dissolved. {Note: It will fizz, make sure you use a large enough cup so that no bubbling over occurs.} Pour into a small {8x8} pan and let cool.

4. Preheat oven to 400. Prepare a sheet pan with parchment paper, or lightly spray with non-stick cooking spray.

5. Divide dough into 8 pieces. Let rest for 5 minutes.

6. Roll each piece of dough into a long rope {about 16 inches}. Cut rope in half. Roll each of those ropes into about 12 inch lengths. Twist each length of dough into a ribbon shape. {If you'd like larger pretzels, make your ribbons with 16 inch rope instead.}

7. Dip each dough ribbon through water/baking soda solution, shaking off excess, and place onto prepared baking sheet. Sprinkle with salt or cinnamon sugar, if desired.

8. Let rest for about 5 minutes.

9. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until golden brown. Remove from oven and brush with melted butter {give them a good bath!}. Return to oven for another 2 minutes. Remove from oven & let cool.

**At this point, the pretzels are warm & delicious, and you could certainly eat them this way.**

10. If desired, cool pretzels and drizzle with melted pink candy melts to make your pink ribbons.

Makes 8 large ribbon pretzels or 16 small ribbon pretzels.