Holy snowfall, Batman!

That’s right, we had our first snow here today (well, more like a rain/snow snot — yes, snot — but snow was involved). We also had the most insane wind gusts — so insane, that my poor umbrella became a casualty. I’d show you the remains, but I maintain respect for my beloved umbrella. Just imagine a tangled mess of wires and me, once dry, now soaking wet, my bangs in a bird’s nest-like shape. It was a lovely sight, I’m sure.

Needless to say, I was looking forward to coming home tonight and cozying up with my cat, my husband, a pair of warm socks and a tasty Indian dinner I had planned, complete with chapati.

It’s been a long month.

I feel like I say that a lot. Or maybe, I’ve just been saying it a lot to myself these past few weeks. The truth is, I’m amazed I came out of October without a scratch or a dent on me, without dying my hair orange or learning a new shared language between me and my cat or wearing pajamas to work and forgetting to shower. The worst of it was watching entirely too much TV, but even then, I steered clear of long-winded “Real Housewives” marathons and stuck to the good stuff, like “Mad Men” (and my newest love, “Breaking Bad.” Wowza.)

NOTE: See this post for an UPDATED version of this recipe!

I know what you’re thinking.

This is a Thanksgiving food. I know. I know. And it’s not even Halloween yet.

Here’s the thing — I get really excited about holidays. And I get even more excited about holiday food. It’s a strange compulsion, one I’m trying to work out with my imaginary therapist, but the fact remains that the minute the leaves fall from the trees, many of my thoughts surround what is going on the menu for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I can literally taste the cranberry sauce that comes out of the can — still looking like the can — on my tongue (I love that stuff. Seriously. Don’t judge.), and I can smell turkey baking as I walk through the crunchy leaves on the sidewalk. Maybe that’s just me continuing to lose my mind, I don’t know, but if I’m going to lose it by smelling and tasting holiday foods, that’s fine by me.

Hi dear friends!

I love you. I really do. I am so grateful for and warmed by your comments, and it just makes me even more inspired to get in the kitchen and bake up something else for you (now if only I could send a slice of everything to each and every one of you in the mail… I’ll work on that).

For now, I’ll share a little bit of what’s been going on at Tablespoon, my second (wonderful, awesome, amazing!) home. I just feel like spreading the love today (and I’m taking a minor hiatus from the kitchen to spend some time with my equally wonderful, awesome, amazing family).

Here’s what’s been cooking over there:

var rec = new TBSPRecipe(); rec.init('caramel-flan', '2', 'www.tablespoon.com', 'mid-size', false, false, 374);

I made flan. And it was glorious.

I’m starting anew. With the way life has been lately, it’s the only way to go. I’m not complaining — in fact, I’ve learned more about myself, about others, about life in general these past couple of months than I have in a long time, and I am grateful.

It’s another step in the process of growing up, I guess (“If only someone had told us when we were in high school how tough it is to be an adult!” my friends and I say. Ah, hindsight is 20/20).

So, instead of crawling back into a cave, where everything seems comfortable and easy and unobtrusive (and yet, ignorant and stagnant), I’m pressing forward. And I’m taking this stromboli with me.

Hi, my name is Stephanie, and I’m a recipe collecting addict.

Hi, Stephanie.

It’s true. The recipe book in my cabinet is a serious mammoth, lurking, just waiting to devour more cut-out magazine articles, online printouts and handwritten recipes collected by word of mouth or out of my brain. The biggest section is, of course, the bread section (with, chello, dessert coming in at a close second). But the funny/sad thing is, I have maybe baked 10 percent of the bread recipes hiding in the recipe book monster. OK, it’s just plain sad.