Rosemary & Thyme Herb Butter

I've always loved baking. In high school I spent weekends making cupcakes and cookies (you know, like a normal 15 year old), and started college dreaming of one day opening my own bakery.

Although I've changed course quite a bit, I still spend a lot of time in the kitchen. In an attempt to become a more knowledgeable home cook I've been working my way through Alice Waters' book The Art of Simple Food. A proponent of farm-to-table cooking long before it was a trend, Alice Waters seeks to create memorable meals by finding quality, seasonal ingredients and cooking or preparing them simply. In the book she not only provides hundreds of recipes - from homemade vinaigrette dressing and apricot jam, to roasted chicken and sautéed brussels sprouts - she also offers tips for keeping a well-stocked pantry and uses each page as an opportunity to teach. It's a wonderful place to start for anyone looking to brush up on their cooking and baking basics, and everyone should just go buy it already, geez.

Since I've recently been gifted an herb garden I was excited to try my hand at making a butter using fresh-cut herbs. The recipe below is based on the one in Alice Waters' book, but has been slightly adapted to suit my own tastes. Enjoy.


rosemary & thyme herb butter

  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) of unsalted butter, softened
  • 2 tbsp. fresh rosemary and thyme, chopped
  • 1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
  • salt and pepper, to taste
  • squeeze of lemon juice

Melt half of the butter in a saucepan over low heat. Add the herbs, slowly mixing for a couple of minutes until fragrant. 

Let the mixture cool in the fridge until or on the counter until room temperature.

Once cooled, add in the rest of the butter, garlic, salt and pepper. Finish off with a squeeze of lemon juice, to enhance the flavors. 

Pour into a bowl or small container, cover and refrigerate until ready to use.

Photo Phriday: The Capri

I think I got 12 mosquito bites the night Joshua and I ate at The Capri. It was our last night in Marfa, Texas and neither of us were looking forward to leaving behind such a significant little town. There's a specific kind of quiet that only exists in the middle of nowhere, a penetrating quiet that goes beyond just a lack of highway traffic or chatty tourists, and settles into your bones, shifting the way you think, feel, and move. It makes the days seem longer, the air more fresh, and already-delicious food and drink more memorable. And both of us noticed it the second we arrived.

I had heard about Marfa a few years back, probably just after Beyoncé visited and made the city an "it girl" get-away vacation spot. But my experience there was almost nothing like I expected. It wasn't trendy bar after trendy bar filled with hip artists, filmmakers, and musicians. It wasn't food trucks with a line down the block for the best tacos in Texas. It was quiet, secluded, almost strange. Restaurants stay open until they feel like closing, many of them only open a few days a week. The streets are seemingly abandoned, a car or small group of people passing through every once in awhile. And while the city didn't meet my expectations, it exceeded them in a way I never could have imagined. Marfa is just as incredible as everyone says it is, not because it's "cool", but because it's remarkable, peculiar, special.

That last night after dinner we sat outside for a few hours, sipping on craft cocktails, while I ignored Joshua's request that we move inside; although he had zero mosquito bites, I was welcoming new ones every few minutes. And while the next day in the car I sat with my hands in my lap, unsuccessfully willing the itching to stop, it didn't matter. Those pesky bites eventually go away, but Marfa doesn't. It stays with you, in your bones, until you eventually hop in the car and make your way back.

Green Barn Berry Farm

What's more American than picking fresh blueberries on Fourth of July weekend, you ask? 

Nothing. Not one thing.

This past Friday Joshua and I went with his parents to the Green Barn Berry Farm in Muncy, Pennsylvania and spent a warm, Summer evening picking blueberries. I've since decided to move away from New York City and live on a farm, where I can grow fresh fruits, veggies and herbs in my backyard, spend mornings sipping coffee on my front porch, and store my clothing in a closet instead of on a clothing rack in the middle of my apartment (wait, other people in New York have closets? oh...).

While I was picking (read: eating) blueberries I spent some time playing with my new camera. After almost 5 years with my trusty little Canon Rebel t3i - my very first DSLR - I finally upgraded to a Canon 7D and haven't put it down since. 

Two nights ago Joshua's mom made a delicious blueberry pie to kick off our Independence Day celebrations, and I think later this month I'll take a stab at my very first homemade blueberry jelly. But first, if anyone has a farm they aren't using just let me know. I'll be there in 5 minutes. 

Photo Phriday: Cooper's BBQ Pit

Cooper's BBQ Pit // Ft. Worth, TX

Although this crisp, fall afternoon is quite lovely, today I'd much rather be sitting down in front of a tray of fresh-out-of-the-pit pulled pork and brisket, with an ice-cold Shiner beer in hand, and a cup of pecan crisp ready for me when I'm done. Barbecue is a wonderful thing, and this past August while I was back in Dallas I stopped by Cooper's BBQ Pit in nearby Ft. Worth to get my fix. Although New York City has many things, good barbecue is fairly difficult to find. 

I've been feeling a little homesick lately, and in that homesickness I not only miss my family and friends back in Texas, but I also miss those flavors and experiences this city cannot always offer: Blue Bell ice cream, (they're almost back, y'all), Saturday afternoons spent tailgating before a football game, (free) baskets of hot tortilla chips at a Tex-Mex restaurant, and a literal pit of perfectly seasoned, perfectly tender Texas barbecue. 

- Annamarie // October 23, 2015