Ira Glass on Marriage

Last night instead of sleeping, I started wondering why Julie Bowen, who plays Claire on Modern Family, got so absurdly skinny — like almost Ally McBeal skinny — last season. Isn’t it 2013? So I did all sorts of boundary-violating Google searching and came across an interview she did for Runner’s World. Not a bad article in many respects, but the best part is when she mentions that she sometimes runs to podcasts of NPR’s Fresh Air. Which reminded me how long it’s been since I ran to a podcast of This American Life. I love doing that for the same reason Julie mentions. I don’t do a very good job thinking while I run, and so it’s much better to have the NPR folks do my thinking for me. Pretty much always, actually, but especially while running.

So today I ran to last week’s Valentine’s Day episode of This American Life. As if you might need another reason to adore Ira Glass, how about this quote from the episode? A while back, Ira’s message to aspiring creatives struck a chord with me and a lot of others. When I heard these thoughts on marriage, I had the same feeling. Namely, that I love what he has to say so much that I kinda want to eat it with a spoon and make it part of me forever. The bad news is, that’s a little bit psycho. The good news, though, is that if I’m snacking on ideas while working out, I’ll never have to worry about getting Ally McBeal skinny. I know, right? Whew.


  • It’s funny, I’ve always said this about parenthood–”I love this, it’s the job you can’t quit.” I had quit so many things when they got hard–rec soccer, the Creative Writing department, Italian, graduate school–but you can’t quit Mother. I mean, not unless you’re a real monster. So you just have to do it.ReplyCancel

  • I love this.ReplyCancel

  • I absolutely loved this because my boyfriend made me listen to this quote during Valentine’s week because he thought it was so good. I had heard the episode the year before, but he still insisted on my hearing it again. It was worth it.

    I emailed him a link to it and he loved it! Thank you.ReplyCancel

  • [...] And speaking of, I made this night grooves mix awhile back, you might enjoy it. Love this post by Umami Girl, with Ira Glass on marriage.Isn’t this a pretty cake? And here’s another lovely one. [...]ReplyCancel

Balanced Green Juice on Serious Eats

I’ve been juicing — green juicing — most mornings for, like, ever. Six months at least. That’s 3 1/2 dog years, and 3 1/2 million blog years. How have I not posted a green juice recipe before now? Who cares. Now I have. It’s my super-healthy but also super-tasty morning ritual, and I highly recommend it. Get the recipe right here on Serious Eats.


  • Anthony W.

    Due to health concerns, I’ve begun to take a serious look at my diet. Been thinking of getting a juicer to help shift from colas to juices of nature. Thanks for posting your recipe, it has been an inspirational help.ReplyCancel

  • I love green juice but I have to admit I get lazy sometime and just don’t take out juice.. BAd me..
    You have just inspired me… I so need to get back on track!ReplyCancel

  • A number of my friends have started going ‘green’ in their morning routine as well.

    I will have to admit, the idea of green slime, and memories of Soylent Green, all have me keeping the lip of the glass from ever touching my own lips.

    One morning, about a month ago, while at the home of one of those friends, I was there during their daily slime fest. Betsy kept insisting I should try it to the point of finally breaking through, and I took the plunge – it was a weak moment of resistance to be sure!

    Simply, I was stunned at just how good it was!

    One of my problems with the juicing movement, is that there’s no mastication taking place – what is food without mastication! I also love the ability to have clearer taste definition of the food elements.

    So while I will say I’ve survived, even enjoyed the initiation, I’m not likely to make the switch any time soon – I love my commercial range far too much for that.ReplyCancel

  • Glad to be here,thanks for sharing this.I’ll sure try it. =)ReplyCancel

Vegan Strawberry Shortcake Smoothie on Serious Eats

If you’ve made healthy eating resolutions for the new year but don’t want to sacrifice one morsel of good taste and happiness, check out my new miniseries on Serious Eats this week and next. It premieres with a super-healthy but totally indulgent-seeming Strawberry Shortcake Smoothie. All plant-based, all yum. Get the recipe here on Serious Eats.


Resolved for 2013

Meet Tension with Softness | Umami GirlSometime in 2012, when I was even newer at yoga, my friend Daphne clued me in to the fact that it usually isn’t the style of yoga that makes or breaks your experience in a class — it’s the teacher. It’s not very yogic of me to say so, but since then I’ve discovered quite a few teacher personalities that make me want to scratch my face off a little bit. There’s the surprisingly common and seemingly paradoxical Type A Yoga Teacher, including one who yells, “It’s supposed to hurt!” There’s the Cult Leader Yoga Teacher, who waits until you’re in a compromising physical position to chant, “Stayyyyy close to usssss.” And there’s the Yoga Teacher Still in a High School Clique, who pretends you’re invisible in the locker room if you’re not one of the popular kids. It’s no wonder there are days when I walk into yoga feeling like a cranky bitch and emerge 90 minutes later feeling like my best self…is a cranky bitch.

It’s all worth it, though, because in one small way or another, some teachers really do achieve the guru status they set out for. And once in a while you can take from one of them a little gem of wisdom (or gym-to-street fashion, or whatevs) that really changes your outlook. One such teacher rocked my fledgling practice last year when she said that as you encounter points of physical tension in a pose, you should try to “meet tension with softness.”

I was psyched about that advice because it made me bendier, and because it made me start to feel like I could control even the tiniest of muscles telepathically. But the real benefits started pouring in when I realized I could take those words off the mat and into the rest of my life. Or at least I’m sure they will start pouring in as soon as I stop sucking so freakin’ hard at meeting tension with softness in everyday life. And this, my friends, is why you are looking at my resolution for 2013 — not coincidentally written in my own hand over a picture of my kid’s grumpy face. Meet tension with softness. It’s not an easy one. But I’m going to try to get better at it. Like, now. If any of this rings a bell, feel free to join me.

A big, bright, happy New Year to you all from Umami Girl. See you again soon.

  • Daphne

    Hi Carolyn – I just made a comment & then read your newest umami girl
    Insight! It is quite fascinatinh how the same teacher can be both infuriating at one moment & perfectly wise at another … Just like ourselves & the 4 year olds around us…I love your resolution! Meet tension with softness… Yes… PerfectReplyCancel

  • There’s also the yoga teacher with a scary German/Russian accent who makes you do sun salutations the entire time, or alternate nostril breathing the entire time.

    And the Pilates teacher who spends the whole class demonstrating what you’d be able to do if you were awesome like her.ReplyCancel

  • Marisa

    Ok, the yoga part is great, but… I LOVE your daughters face and now everyday when I see my kids wake up, I take a deep breath and think of your wise words… Today I will meet tension with softness…. THANK YOU! Don’t forget about us when you come back to town! xoReplyCancel

Vegetarian Main Dish for Thanksgiving: Chanterelle and Gruyere Bread Pudding

“I’ve been doing a ton of yoga, so gratitude is literally pouring out of my asana,” said the first line of an otherwise totally ungracious Thanksgiving post on my food blog recently. Very, very recently. Just to get a few things out of the way, I am truly and deeply thankful for many persons, places, and things this year. I really am. My loved ones and my home survived Sandy, for one thing. And I have loved ones and a home to worry about in a hurricane, for another. Now that I’m in the second half of my thirties, it’s basically just a matter of hormonal and genetic predisposition to be thankful, I’m pretty sure.

But just when you think it’s going to get all gooey, let’s say you jump in the shower and do not understand the import of the words “contains organic peppermint oil” on your new, stupid-expensive bar of soap. Let’s say that toward the end of your shower, just before you’re ready to rinse out your conditioner, you scream a little and spend the next 15 minutes composing a fake Open Letter to Peppermint Soap, signed Private Vijay Burns of The Netherlands. Or let’s say you kind of stopped posting on your food blog for a while after you decided that food blogs are hideous, hideous things, because there are too many of them, and some of them suck, and some of them are better than yours. And really, isn’t your time and intellect better spent raising your children properly, because thank God for your children, until they piss you off so royally both at the same time that thank God you have a food blog and don’t have to rely on the likes of your children for happiness. Or let’s say that after you wrote that last sentence, you stood up too quickly and somehow — improbably but apparently not impossibly — ended up with part of the printer inside your ear. Let’s just say, shall we?

Point being that just because it’s Thanksgiving and just because you’re a veritable cornucopia of love and gratitude and awe for the people who carried those newborn babies down emergency stairwells while keeping them alive with tiny manual respirators, does not mean that you can’t also hate absolutely everything just a little bit right now. I think it would be a good idea to talk more about how it’s a normal part of the human condition to feel like you could leap a tall building in a single, joyous bound, but also maybe want to kick the building’s doors in just a little when the card swipe machine fails to read your ID properly on the first try.

To tell the truth, my kid has been home sick for a week, and I haven’t been leaving the house a lot. (I hide it well, though, right?) I haven’t been singing, or going for runs, or meeting with friends, or flying around the tennis court like my usual star-shaped spaz of a self, all of which typically help to take the edge off the parts of me that are hateful and slightly murderous. What I have been doing a lot is standing on my head, because headstands are wonderful stress-relievers, except for the fact that it’s hard to drink wine from that position. Another great thing about standing on my head is that then when my kid asks me for three things at a time I can say, hey kid, can’t you see I’m standing on my head right now? And about half the time she’ll walk away for a minute or two, a little joyous-hateful, probably, and give me a tiny sliver of the space-time continuum all to myself. After that we’ll usually have a hug and get on with our day and not murder anyone at all.

So next week is Thanksgiving, and maybe some of you will be deeply thankful for the food on your plates but also not so psyched that even the green beans and Brussels sprouts have pork products in them. Maybe you’re even in the pro camp on the issue of overindulgence to the point of mild nausea once a year, but you’re anti on the whole “currently eating things that ever had a mom or a face” situation. Well. That’s where Chanterelle and Gruyere Bread Pudding comes in, and that’s why I continue to give thanks for my friend Jill Silverman Hough, who included this recipe in her 2011 book 100 Perfect Pairings: Main Dishes to Enjoy with Wines You Love Yet Also Slightly Hate. (Okay, yeah, italicized words added by Umami Girl.)

Chanterelles are in full force at this time of year but still pricey enough to be special-occasion food, so vegetarians will feel well cared-for with this savory, hearty dish at the center of their plates. If you can’t get your hands on chanterelles or the money to buy them, I’ve also made this recipe substituting two thinly sliced leeks for the chanterelles. It’s wonderful either way, and I liked both versions paired with the Chardonnay (upside down or right side up!) that Jill recommends for the chanterelle version.

Because the book is all about food and wine pairing, I thought about checking with Jill as to whether leeks would be an approved substitution. But then I thought to myself, Gratzer, you’re never going to get anywhere in this beautiful, annoying world if you can’t make an executive decision about leeks and chanterelles. Gratzer is my maiden name, by the way, and it’s what I call myself when I haven’t brought my A-game. I can just imagine what kind of a field day my shrink would have with that information if I weren’t too cheap and repressed and overconfident about my own worldview to have a shrink.

It’s a good thing my kids, my blog and I have so damn much real-world experience. That’s why I already know exactly how wonderful and precisely how exasperating this world of ours is, and why I can’t help but tell you all about it. Happy Thanksgiving, all. Hope it’s a great one. Even if it sucks a little, too.

{CLICK HERE for the recipe.}

  • This really made my day. Even without kids, I know exactly what you’re talking about. The recipe sounds delish—thanks!ReplyCancel

  • Love this post. So refreshing to read something honest, and the recipe is a home run too. I’m not advanced enough for yoga headstands yet, but I can certainly imagine how they might interfere with wine drinking. :)ReplyCancel

  • Hi! Although Canadian, I am heading across the border for American Thanksgiving to a vegetarian’s house. Look forward to bringing this dish with me!ReplyCancel

  • After having a similar experience with peppermint soap, I wrote to Dr. Bronner’s telling them that it would be much appreciated if they could fit a bit more text on their bottle to warn women of the terrible things that will happen, should the soap come into contact with their southernmost lady part. I never heard back.


    Love, love, love everything about this post. Even the bread pudding I’d never be able to eat (because of the dairy) – but a lady can dream, right?ReplyCancel

  • This is my first time reading your blog, but I will definitely be back. The recipe looks fantastic, but more than that I love your candor. Thanks for making me laugh in the midst of a 12 hour road trip with 2 kids. I needed it.ReplyCancel

  • Oh, Carolyn! Imagine my delight to discover that amidst all the yin and yang you’ve been going through and sharing and processing–or not–you find even a shred of happiness in my little ‘ol bread pudding! I’m honored. Truly.

    Thank you for sharing it, ALL of it that’s there for you, so authentically and poetically. None of us can relate (yeah, right).

    Thanksgiving will, of course, suck a little bit, and a big “you go, girl!” to you for being willing to say so. May yours also be at least as beautiful as it is obnoxious. That’s the least any of us can hope for between now and January 2, don’t you think???

    Thank you again. <3 <3 <3ReplyCancel

  • Patty

    Carolyn I am new to your blog. I just love your sense of humor. Just “liked this on FB”. Told all my friends to check you out. Thank you for a good laugh and great recipes!
    Happy Thanksgiving to al.ReplyCancel

  • Christian Rene Friborg

    Great recipe! Happy thanksgiving!ReplyCancel

  • I seriously guffawed in a most unladylike fashion when I read your peppermint soap adventure. I have had similar experiences– good gracious, it’s terrible, isn’t it? Like a cold breeze across your most tender regions. Not thrilling at all.

    I just stumbled across your blog, and where I do agree that perhaps there are too many food blogs in this world, I am so happy yours exists. Your writing style is so breezy and funny, I just can’t get enough of it. Thanks for making me smile– I sure did need that today.ReplyCancel

  • [...] to make them again.  I made a chanterelle and guyere bread pudding inspired by one that I saw on Umami Girl.  Beth brought a salad and a cheese plate, and Maya brought some cheesy-puff pastry starters.  Of [...]ReplyCancel

  • Great idea for Thanksgiving!Thank you for share =)ReplyCancel

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