Vegan Lavender Lime Bundt Cake


Addictions come in many forms. Like that time I was addicted to Pleasantville. And when my 8th grade self couldn’t stop listening to Blink 182’s “Take Off Your Pants and Jacket.” I also got addicted to plucking my eyebrows. Until they were two inches apart and I looked like I had grown an extra forehead in the middle of my face.

It took a long time for them to grow back.

So this summer, I got addicted to a pond. A new pond. A pond not many people know about.

And I can’t stop going there. I wake up early just to be the first one on that splintery dock. I make sure to get all my chores done the night before so I can efficiently bike, swim, cannonball, dive, flip, and nap—all before 3pm.

I’m really nervous about the fall. Because I don’t know what my weekends will be like without that pond. Where will I swim? Where will I see great blue herons swooping over lily pads? What happens when I don’t get sun sleepies?

Maybe with less sun will come more time for cooking and baking. Even though a huge chunk of me doesn’t want that to happen, I guess having a lavender lime bundt cake after dinner wouldn’t be too bad.


This flavor combo is so unreal. The first time I did something with it was ages ago when I baked lavender lime poppy seed cookies. Those were stupidly amazing.


Lime gets zested. Don’t rub your eyes. But definitely enjoy your house smelling citrusy for at least the afternoon.


Lime gets juiced.


You’re probably all, “Ew, does it taste like potpourri?” To which I answer, “Shut up and eat it.”

It doesn’t taste like potpourri. It tastes like yum.


Just a whee bit toasty.


And a whole lot of omg-so-good-I-might-eat-it-all.

Vegan (say what?!) lavendar lime bundt cake.

3 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 tablespoons culinary lavender
3 limes, zested and juiced
2/3 cup canola oil
1 14oz can coconut milk
1 1/2 cups vegan sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Thoroughly grease a bundt pan of your choice, being sure to get in all the cracks.

Sift the dry ingredients (flour, baking soda, baking powder salt), in a medium bowl.

In a large bowl, mix wet ingredients (sugar, coconut milk, canola oil, vanilla, lime juice, zest) until sugar and oil are fully incorporated.

Slowly add the dries into the wets in about 3 batches, mixing completely before adding the next cup.

Once the batter is just incorporated (don’t overdo it, or else your cake won’t be fluffy), fold in the culinary lavender.

Pour into the bundt cake pan and bake for about 60 minutes, until the top is just browning at the edges.

Fully cool before even attempting to take the cake out of the pan. It will break if the center is still warm.

Seriously it tastes phenomenal.

Enough to feed the people who don’t scorn vegan baked goods.

Shredded Zucchini Calzone


I’m heavily invested in the idea that I will one day hit the sweet spot. I’ll find the middle ground between walking to the grocery store barefoot and rocking stiletto heels. Something in between picking up furniture off the streets and buying a full-price couch. Just the right amount of this and that.

I’m  Goldilocks.

And this heat wave is just too darn hot.


But with the middle of the summer comes a cornucopia of squash! So much squash!


Squash that I want to shred and put into a calzone!


Kale and zucchini are the sweet spot of this calzone.

That and I have a lot of flippin’ kale to deal with, too.


I don’t think I can go a week without making dough. I go into withdrawals.


You think it’s a burrito.

But it’s not a burrito.


It’s a motherfucking calzone.




In the flesh.

Shredded Zucchini Calzone.

1 medium zucchini, grated (about 2 cups)
3-4 dinosaur kale stalks, chopped (about 2 cups)
1 garlic clove, minced
1 1/2 cup chopped onions
1/4 cup grated Reggiano cheese
1 large tomato
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon cornmeal

For the dough, follow my recipe for Honey Whole Wheat. In the middle of rising, cut the dough in half and shape into rounds. Let them rise for another half hour.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit. (I know it’s crazy to think about when it’s so hot out, but it’s worth it. Sort of.)

In a large skillet heat the olive oil. Add the chopped onions and sautee until translucent. Remove from the pan and set aside on a large plate.  With the remaining oil, sautee the kale, garlic and zucchini. Add to the plate of onions and mix in Reggiano cheese.

Chop the tomato in half and squeeze to release the water and all of the seeds. Chop coarsely. In a medium bowl, season the tomato generously with salt and pepper. Add to the other vegetables.

Using a bread roller, roll out the dough into small circles. Evenly divvy up the vegetables on each round, keeping all of the ingredients in the center.

Wrap in any shape you want. I used a fork to close the seams because I was nervous they would explode and ooze in the oven.

Brush the top with olive oil for a nice crispy crust.

Cover a large pizza stone or baking sheet with cornmeal to prevent sticking. Place the calzones on the sheet/stone and bake for about 15-20 minutes, until the top is nice and golden.

Makes two fat calzones for two hungry gals.

Morning Juice


Am I weird for wanting to bro out every so often? Go camping for 4 days without showering, call everyone “dude” and let them call me that right back?

Girls do that, right? Because I definitely do that. Often.

For one thing, I’m a sucker for action movies. Give me a pair of 3D glasses and a fistful of popcorn and I’m all set for the next 2.5 hours. This is the first summer since childhood that I’ve made it a point to watch nearly every blockbuster that comes out.

Except Fast & Furious part 1289494. Why do those exist?

I think bro-ing out is important to keeping a healthy and balanced lifestyle. Sure, there’s running a 5K, practicing yoga, and cutting out processed foods — but sitting down for a few evenings with a cheap can of beer, a blazing fire and conversations amid farts? It reminds me that there’s a chunk of me that doesn’t care about nail polish, brushing my hair, or that parachute pants are back in style (Seriously, when did that happen?).

But don’t worry guys, I’m still here. By Sunday morning, I’m looking up recipes for kale salad and pulverizing vegetables into juice.


Kale, celery. I’m really sorry for what I’m going to do to you. It’s going to be loud. It’s not going to be pretty. It’s borderline plant murder.

Also, hey, I know not everyone has a juicer. They’re expensive, bulky, and you really have to be willing to deal with a single-purpose contraption, unlike blenders, which make smoothies, margaritas and salsa. But the juicer I just bought was $100 and it’s probably the best thing I’ve bought all year. Actually, here’s a list of my favorite kitchen things.

So nix that end-of-summer clothing shopping spree and invest in something with a little more sustenance.


I’ve made four different kinds of juices thus far without using a recipe. I’ve yet to make a bad batch because a) vegetables taste delicious and b) it’s all about balancing the greens with the sweets.

For example! If you’re packing in 4 cups of spinach or kale, make sure you complement it with sweet beets and pears. Apples are also spectacular sweeteners and give you an energy boost in the morning similar to coffee.

Oh, and ginger. In everything. Please.


I should paint my nails in that color.

Morning Juice.

4-5 stalks lacinato kale
1 large pear
2 large carrots
1 chunk ginger, about a 1″ cube
2 small beets
6-7 stalks cucumber
1 large cucumber

Shove the ingredients in the blender in the order listed above. It’s always good to start juicing with leafy greens.

Serve with ice or at room temperature. You can make a large batch at night and drink it in the morning so you don’t wake up your roommates with what sounds like an alien spaceship hovering in the kitchen.

Makes about 20oz of juice.

Rhubarb Upside Down Cake


I have a small obsession with growing up. My wishes range from having a car and a puppy to dreaming of the day when I’ll stop thinking that fart jokes are really the funniest of them all. Sometimes I get pangs of adulty withdrawals and scrounge through Craigslist for things my parents have. Like kitchen islands and lamp shades. Curtains.

It’s not just the things. I yearn for conversations outside of the next meal and how’s-work-going. That’s what makes you an adult, right? Black coffee and philosophizing?


I don’t think I’ll ever be an adult. And I don’t really want to be. I’d much rather hang out with my high school friends and rewatch Harry Potter until I know the script by heart.

There’ll be plenty of time to put down a mortgage, get matching towels and talk about what Ira Glass said on the last episode of This American Life. Too much time, really.

But at least I can still play in the dirt and bring home rhubarb every once in a while. And if that’s what it means to grow up, then I’ll stick with it.

_MG_1619No, really, I dug my toes into the soil and snipped stalks of rhubarb. I’ve got a garden. Finally. #Adulthood.

_MG_1634My brother told me to make this cake probably 3 months ago. Now I know why.

_MG_1631Because who doesn’t love caramelizing rhubarb?

_MG_1640And then, like, turning it into a sort of biscuit-like thing that makes your apartment smell like a pastry shop?

_MG_1643The only way to flip this without it falling apart is to say “omgomgomgomgomgomg.”

_MG_1650It worked.

Rhubarb Upside Down Cake.

3/4lbs rhubarb, cut into 1 1/2 inch pieces
1 1/2 cup sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus 6 tablespoons cut into small cubes and chilled
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 tablespoon fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup shortening
1/3 cup milk
2 eggs

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a 9-inch cast-iron skillet, cook the rhubarb, 1 cup sugar, vanilla, lemon juice, 4 tablespoons butter and 1/4 teaspoon salt on medium heat until the rhubarb is soft and slightly caramelized. Make sure the sugar doesn’t burn. Because that’d be lame. And you’ll probably have to start over. This should take about 8-10 minutes.

In a large bowl, whisk flour, remaining sugar and baking powder. Add the chilled 6 tablespoons of butter and shortening and using your hands, gently break apart the pieces until the flour mixture resembles coarse meal. Add the milk and eggs and mix until a sticky dough forms.

Gently spoon the dough on top of the caramelized rhubarb and smooth over lightly with a spatula.

Place the skillet into the oven and bake for about 30 minutes, until the top is golden brown.

Once you take it out of the oven, let it cool for about 5-10 minutes before flipping it onto a large, flat serving platter. If you don’t have one (because you’re lacking in the kitchen department of adulthood), a cutting board should work. Or a pizza peel. Whatever.

When you flip it, swear as much as you need to ensure it’ll come out in one piece. You might have to coax it with some kind words after being so mean.

Serve with ice cream or whipped cream. Or just with a fork.

Beet Smoothie


Never have I ever gone skiing.

Never have I ever shaved my eyebrows (People do that, right?).

Never have I ever slipped on a banana peel.

Never have I ever done a cartwheel.

Never have I ever run a marathon.

And never have I ever thought I would ever call myself a runner, but after demolishing one pair of shoes and successfully killing a 5K with a time of 24 minutes, I’d say it’s about time I put away the notion that my bones are “too weak” for running or my body “isn’t built” for a marathon.

I mean, I’m not doing today’s Boston Marathon. Because that’d just be crazy. But maybe this time next year, my Never Have I Evers will be a little different.

You know, “Never have I ever ridden a unicycle” or “Never have I ever done a triathlon” or “Never have I ever hung out with a sloth.”

Oh my god why haven’t I hung out with a sloth yet?

Start to cross off your nevers.


That’s it. Beets, bananas, flax. And some almond milk. Maybe some honey if sweetness is what you crave before a run. Or after? This could be a great recovery drink, too.


Blender, where would I be without you? My mornings would be smoothieless and filled with other breakfast things like cereal and donuts. Thanks to you, I’ve made coworkers drool and effectively woken up my roommates at 7 a.m. to the sound of your engine.


Yes, that’s a sparkly pink straw.

Beet smoothie.

1 medium beet, roasted or boiled and chopped into cubes
2 ripe bananas, sliced and preferably frozen
1 tablespoon ground flax
1 cup unsweetened almond milk
1 tablespoon honey, to taste

Blend it together and what have you got?

Enough for two runners-but-not-marathoners on a Monday morning.