Rosemary Foccacia

Are you one of those people that likes to sing along to the radio? Are you driving along the road, blasting some “Life is a Highway,” and singing at the top of your lungs? I’ll be the first to admit that I’m an automobile vocal superstar. People driving by me either think I’m a crazy person, or that I’m having a very animated conversation with someone on my Bluetooth. (hint hint people, I don’t have a Bluetooth, I’m a crazy person)

Boyfriend also likes to sing along to the radio, although he is more of a creative soul. He will not be constrained by lyrics or rhymes. You know all the words to California Gurls? So does boyfriend, but sorry Katy Perry, those are boring lyrics. Boyfriends songs are so much better, because they are about delicious sandwiches.

Seriously, no joke. Boyfriends songs are all on the same topic – Sandwiches, and how delicious they are. Cee-Lo Green wants to forget someone? That’s fine, boyfriend wants a ham sandwich. U2 thinks it’s a beautiful day? Great, boyfriend is going to spend that beautiful day making a pastrami on rye. Even Elvis gets in on the sandwich goodness in his blue suede shoes. I think it’s a whole new genre of music – sandwich.

With the seriousness of boyfriends sandwich serenading, you would think that his main food group consisted of something between two pieces of bread. You would be wrong. Boyfriends main food group consists of foods sold at Dunkin’ Donuts. Extra-large double doubles, vanilla sprinkle donuts, Big’n’Toasty sandwiches. Oh wait! That last one was a sandwich! I was wrong, he loves sandwiches!

Anyways, this all has a point! Monday I wooed you with a tortellini soup and I teased you with glimpses of foccacia. Today I make good on my promise of bread! Some things take forever and are totally not worth the wait. Standing in line for Space Mountain, only to go on a roller coaster in the dark, lame-o. Anticipating the movie release of your favorite book, just to discover they totally ruined the plotline (I’m looking at you Bourne Identity!). Spending hours on a recipe and being disappointed in the outcome? Not this recipe! This foccacia was amazing! Airy, herby, delicious. Go make this, but be warned that it will be a full day before you have bread.

Tortellini Soup

Spring is starting to creep into the Northeast, at last! I was able to bust out my spring coat this weekend, although I paired it with a scarf. Fifty degrees just isn’t warm enough for me yet. Although, I have known many people who would claim that fifty degrees is shorts weather.

Rainbow chard, it's so pretty!

Living in Wisconsin, I met lots of people from the Midwest. I found that the people of the Midwest are of heartier stock than I. The people of Michigan are particularly hearty. Once the mercury would inch up past freezing, my Midwestern friends would break out their shorts and t-shirts. There could still be snow on the ground, but the streets of Madison would be filled with students wearing shorts. Crazy people, all of them.

My rainbow chard looks alive!

I am a fan of pants. It needs to be at least eighty degrees for me to have the desire to put on shorts. For this reason, I own approximately one pair of shorts. Maybe two, I can’t remember. It’s been that long since I thought to put on a pair of shorts. The second problem with shorts is my work environment. Wearing shorts in the lab is just a bad idea, especially for a girl, they just don’t cover nearly enough leg! Plus, it’s always about two degrees in the lab, I’d freeze to death.

So, while I’m enjoying the warmer days, I will still bundle up until the temperature stays at seventy. My winter coat will stay out until May and my shorts will remain in the dresser until July. And I will eat soup all year long, especially this soup.



Stay tuned later this week for that foccacia recipe!



Sponge Cupcakes with Chocolate Swiss Meringue Frosting

Let it be known that I have never had a real job. Nope, not ever. I’ve never had a nine-to-five, five day a week, holidays off kinda job. Sure, I’ve been employed since I was thirteen, but I can’t seriously call any of my jobs a profession.

My first job was as a coat check girl at my mom’s hotel. I would take the coats and give out the tags. For the next three hours I would guard the coats and read a book. At the end of the night I would return the coats to the correct ticket holders and reap the rewards. Drunk people and guys with fancy hats were good tippers. Once everyone was gone my mom and I would head home, my pockets full of one dollar bills. And yes, jokes would be made as I paid for things, through the week, with lots of ones.

Eventually, I got myself a job with a paycheck. A job with tips. A job with an awesome title. I was a Soda Jerk. I spent evenings working at a diner, making ice cream sundaes, chocolate milkshakes and brown cows. I wore my hot pink t-shirt and a pony tail. I ate way too much ice cream every night and came home with caramel in my hair and down my leg and on my back. Not quite sure how it got where it did. I would inevitably slip on some ice cream, entertaining all of the customers with my mad falling skills.

The job I held for the longest actually started out as my senior internship. In high school, I decided that I wanted to be a photographer when I grew up. I was going to zip around the world and shoot for National Geographic. Since Nat Geo didn’t have a local branch, I got an internship at a portrait studio. I got to learn the ins and outs of taking portraits, camera equipment and running a studio. I learned so much more as the years went by and I became great friends with the owners. People I’m happy to say I stay in touch with, even though I haven’t worked at the studio for eight years.

Eight years ago is when I held my last real job. Now, I haven’t been unemployed since then, I entered into the world of academia. Academia is a totally different world from the industrial or consumer world. I’ve passed from undergrad in a lab to graduate student with a hood of my own to postdoc on a mission. Working seventy-hour weeks, seven days a week, getting one paycheck a month and eating very haphazardly.

The most noticeable thing about academia is the constant flux of people. Every year there are new people coming and old people leaving, someone never being around for more than five years. Your facebook friends list gets longer and longer as your labmates shift through the years. It seems like you’re either saying hello or goodbye to someone, just like today.



Ignore that missing one, I don't know what happened to that cupcake. 
Must have wandered off...

Today is the last day of a labmates academic life. I know, it sounds dramatic, but it is a great thing! He’s leaving us for a job in the real world, with all those real world benefits and pitfalls. It’s the day that everyone in the academic bubble dreams of. (Unless you want to be a professor, then you’ll live your life in the academic bubble!) To celebrate his departure I made him cupcakes. Good riddance! Get out of here! We won’t miss you! I’m just kidding, you’re awesome, but then again, you already knew that. It says so on your laptop.