Food & Recipes

In Cincinnati, the Queen City from which Cooking with Caitlin hails, there is a magical night that punctuates our summer like a big fat exclamation point.

At the end of last week, my family and I traveled to Wisconsin to visit Aunt Megan, Uncle Nate, and their two little guys.  While we
were there, The Girls’ Club and I got to tour the Jelly Belly factory which is right down the road from their home (how’s that for upping the resale value?).  Even though I never saw the chocolate river, and the only Oompa-Loompas were the preschool princesses who came with me, it sure felt like a fantastical trip through a Roald Dahl book.

If you read a word of what I wrote last week, you know that I’m not up for any Mother of the Year awards. I spent my piece with you carrying on about little girls arguing and the seemingly so distant start of the school year. Well, that was a little much. Thanks for indulging me, but life’s not bad at all.

Would I be the worst mother in America if I told you I can’t wait for school to start? Would it sound awful if I confessed I’m typically tapped out of all patience and creativity by breakfast? Or, that I read a distinct look of “you again?” on my girls’ faces each of these late-Summer mornings?

Just yesterday I learned of a person who is delighted by time-intensive recipes.  He’s afraid of neither long lists of unusual ingredients nor polysyllabic French words.  Cooking is
sport and dinnertime is tournament play.

A couple weeks ago, the Cooking with Caitlin crew were invited to
cater a small wedding for a friend.  The bride and groom were married in gardens of lush flowers on a warm summer night.  Thunder clapped and the rains came just before the event, and immediately following it.  In between the storms were dinner, dancing, and all sorts of warm and fuzzy.