Halfway There: Lemon, Yogurt, and Almond Custard Pots

-I AM so lucky!-

Done, done, done.

So done.

A finished draft of the book with all its pictures, appendices, intros, and recipes tested by over 85 people has been turned into our editor at Little, Brown & Company. All 409 pages of it.

Four. Hundred. And. Nine. Pages.

So excuse me if my posting has been a little, short as of late. It's just, you know, 409 pages. The last two weeks I have done nothing but read-tinker-edit-futz-delete-edit-again-add-change-and-putz-with those 409 pages. I can recite whole recipes and headnotes to you from memory.

If we were to take an MRI of my brain all that grey matter would somehow resemble elbow macaroni and globs of melted cheese.

*oof*

Mini Photo Essay: The Last Pizza Party of the Year

A few friends got together to celebrate the last bit of warm outdoor weather we'll have for a bit, still with October in full swing the air did get nippy. Firing pizzas in a wood burning oven, plenty of red wine, and a few seasonal Ottolenghi-style salads made for a good way to stay warm. Of course, the camaraderie was probably the hottest thing there. The night was finished with apples tossed with butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar cooked in the oven before being served with homemade vanilla ice cream and salted caramel.

God, I love my friends.

As for what pizza I made? Smoked mozzarella, aleppo pepper, kalamata olive, capers, and plenty of anchovies. Salty, like that cranky woman who sells me apples at the Farmer's Market and tells off color jokes even when children are nearby. (Loves it.)

-This fire, while cool looking, is burning way too hot for pizza.-

A Few Promises: Earl Grey Chocolate Cake

-I promise you will lick the screen. Like. A. Savage.-

I promise that I have done all in my power to destroy any pictures that show that I once dressed up - against my will, mind you - for a comic-con. Tiger stripes on my skin, white-dyed hair, and about 200 black belts were involved.

I promise that I still have that dog collar I wore in college.

I promise to judge people based on what email provider they use. ("AOL. Wow, really?")

I promise to be just a little wary of religious people.

I promise to remind myself not to be closed minded and to then judge a person based on who they are as a person and all the parts that make them up, and not just where they place their faith.

I promise to not edit myself at pretty much all times and embarrass people who are in my company.

I promise I have no idea and nor will I ever about football, baseball, or basketball. As far as I am concerned, last year's Super Bowl was just a Madonna concert with a pre and post-show athletics display.

Celebration: Moroccan-ish Chicken Stew with Dates and Olives (Plus Giveaway)

-Changes may or may not involve stewed dates.-

I don't really ever adapt well to change. I mean, I adapt eventually, but often not without a good fight. Forget kicking and screaming. I'm usually attempting to chew the face off of whoever or whatever seems to be trying to get me to change some major aspect of my life.

However, when I myself am to blame, then said face chewing can be somewhat problematic (not to mention mandible-ly impossible).

I recently started a new job, and by recently I mean it happened all of the sudden with an interview, call back, and letter of resignation slash acceptance. Bam! Like lightning. I wasn't even looking, but when two friends call with what can only be described as near apocalyptic urgency insisting that you fire off a resume that would surely "make the heavenly Human Resources choir begrudgingly applaud,"it's wise to simply do just that.

Behind the Scenes of the Melt Cookbook Shoot

This last few days the photography for the cookbook took place. It's essentially the physical marker for the halfway point of the book. A year ago we found a publisher and a year from now the book will be in print and, hopefully, resting in your hands waiting to be stained with cheese and smeared from use and love in your kitchen.

-A composed shot of cheese.-

Stephanie and I made our way down to Long Beach in Southern California, my old stomping ground where I grew up just thirty minutes south in Mission Viejo. Our friends, Matt Armendariz and his partner in love and creation, Adam Pearson, kindly took us on as clients and would be shooting and styling 47 recipes from the book as well as taking a few style shots and cover shots.