The Fastest, Easiest, Juiciest Turkey-Cooking Method is Spatchcocking. Because Jesus Loves Us.

Mark Bittman’s Spatchcocked Turkey. Want to know how to spatchcock the heck out of a bird? See Mr. Bittman’s tutorial on The New York Times here.

I read an article in The New York Times on how to roast a turkey in 45 minutes.

FORTY FIVE MINUTES, friends, to cook a 12+ pound bird.

Not only that, but this method results in tastier, juicier, more evenly cooked meat with crisper skin.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t have time to pee some days. I don’t have time to brush my teeth, much less my hair. I don’t have time to stop or breathe or finish a cup of coffee while it’s hot. So a Thanksgiving turkey roasting method that cuts cooking time by 75% AND is more delicious?? THAT IS THE COOKING METHOD FOR ME, folks. That makes an actual difference in my life. ...  read more

Things That Make Me Feel Old: A Guest Post

Things That Make Me Feel Old
{a guest post by Liv Stecker of Bendability}

I wet the bed.

I did.

The horror of it took several days to wear off, but when I finally admitted it to my sister, she reassured me everybody does it, so I came here to find affirmation that I’m not the only one. Tell me, please, even if you have to lie.

I’ve decided since the heinous event never to take Tylenol PM again, which I had tried in lieu of half a hydrocodone to keep the pain at bay long enough to fall asleep. ...  read more

The Touch, The Feel of Cocaine: The Fabric of Our Lives

There’s a bobby pin shoved in my bathtub drain right now, propping it ever-so-slightly open to let the bath water out, since the drain is finicky and only decides to open sometimes, just like my kids eating vegetables or doing their chores, all, “I just did that LAST WEEK,” and, “Seriously? AGAIN? I DO ALL THE WORK around here and NO ONE ELSE does ANYTHING, EVER.” My bathtub drain has a serious work ethic issue, and I? I am an enabler. Because instead of insisting it does its job, I just prop it open myself, using a bobby pin from the toothpaste-encrusted counter, or a fork from the plate of lasagna I snuck into the tub, or the leg of a Barbie who’s seen better days, all water logged and tangled and little bit moldy; a visual representation of how this mama can sometimes feel. ...  read more

In Case You Want to DO Something to Help the Victims of Terror

Oh, friends, I have OPINIONS on the Syrian refugee crisis. And opinions on terror. And opinions on Paris. And Lebanon. And ISIS. I sure do! Opinions GALORE. And I would LOVE to share my (awesome) thoughts on immigration, security, politics and faith with you.

I have WORDS, y’all.


I just wrote a flurry of them.

And then I hit delete, erasing them all. POOF. Gone. On purpose. ...  read more

I Hate to Be the Bearer of Bad News, But It’s Time to Stop Being Outraged Over the Outrage Over the Starbucks Cup :(

Listen, friends.

I like a good bout of outrage as much as the next girl. I do. Outrage is awesome! Outrage is fun! Outrage gets the blood flowing! Seriously; get me started sometime on U.S. immigration policy ( Let ’em all in! The more the merrier!) or the amount of testing in my kids’ schools (STOP IT) or why it’s apparently so hard for my children to understand that this Mommy — against all reason and common sense — occasionally wants to poop alone. Outrage, I tell you. OUTRAGE. I like it. I do. ...  read more

On Sunday Afternoon

IMG_7372IIMG_7367tIMG_7381IMG_7365‘s Sunday afternoon in November and the leaves are in a rush to vacate the trees. It’s like they’re mamas and they have urgent errands to run and important places to be, and the kids couldn’t find their socks again so now they’re late to arrive on the ground, unlike all the other leaves who seem to have it together and arrived much earlier, so they’re running to catch up. “Here are your socks, Kid Leaves, now go, go, GO!” and dozens of leaves spiral for the earth to win the relentless race against time and themselves. ...  read more