I love the holidays, and I love my friends and family.  I love my dog, and my apartment, and my city (NYC or bust, baby).  I love nights out with a good friend (hi Erin!) and long conversation over a bottle of red (why would he ever tell you those things? I’m still pondering).

I love waking up tired, sitting in front of a huge monitor working on sourcing and writing and recipe-ing, and pondering the big questions, such as “have I ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day?”.

I love uploading photos on my computer and then unearthing one of something sweet.  That I baked a few weeks ago.  And drafted a blog post of.  And never finished.

Dusty Jacqueline, tricks are for kids.

I love making scones.  They’re incredibly quick to whip up for a family/friendy brunch as I learned from my dear friend Ruark’s father, Kevin.  He would make the biggest, fluffiest, sweetest looking scones that I would drool over as I watched them being eaten (he or Ruark or Ruark’s mom Chris would have also made me some incredible omelet or something so trust me I wasn’t playing a sad song on his sister’s violin or anything). 

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