I love happy accidents. Like, say, when you're all set on making beef stew, and have purchased all the ingredients and even begun the cooking process. And then discover that you've forgotten one of the key ingredients...but then the ingredient you end up swapping in makes it miles and miles better.
I'm talking about beef stew made with - yes - chicken stock. I know what you're thinking: That will taste like chicken soup. If I wanted chicken soup, I would make chicken soup.
I used to make artichokes all the time. Like literally: There was a time period, circa 2010ish, during which I made them for myself and Kendrick every. single. night. I had only recently discovered them, and became fully obsessed once I realized that their true identity is a butter-delivery system that you can feel virtuous about, because vegetables.
Fun little fact: The artichoke is actually the bud of a thistle flower.
Meet Audrey, RG’s brand-new Home contributor. You've actually seen her here before - she has the single best home decor taste of any human I've ever met, and I featured both her home's interior and its exterior awhile back. She recently sold that house and bought a new one, a 100-year-old place in one of L.A.'s most historic neighborhoods that she's renovating from top to bottom...so obviously I had to ask her (pictured above with her impossibly adorable family) if she'd give us all a chance to share in the gloriousness.
Audrey's also a virtual dictionary of home renovation and decor knowledge (seriously; I vet most of my home purchases through her) - so if you have any questions, now's your chance! – Jordan
I met Betsey Johnson. Like, in person. That is obviously the most important part of this post ostensibly about her house, because excuse me, fifteen-year-old me was FREAKING. OUT. (OK, 38-year-old me was freaking out, too.)
My first impression of her was as she rolled up to me in, of all things, a golf cart. Her ponytailed hair was piled with blue extensions, she was wearing something that was a cross between a surfer-girl look and pajamas, and her tiny wrists and fingers were piled - absolutely piled - with jewelry. All this at 10 o'clock in the morning.
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Fine, I admit it: I started ordering Daily Harvest mostly because a lady I saw in their Instagram ads looked so adorably thrilled with her life. But I also started ordering Daily Harvest because I tried a chocolate-based smoothie at a fancy smoothie place near my dance studio, and became obsessed with chocolate-based smoothies. Except chocolate-based smoothies that you buy at fancy smoothie places are like ten bucks, and I have better things to spend ten bucks on. Like three jumbo-sized bags of salt and vinegar potato chips.
My attention to nutritional value, in case you were curious, starts and stops with the question of whether or not existing solely on hastily-consumed discarded spoonfuls of (Annie's! Organic!) macaroni and cheese will eventually kill me. (I'm pretty sure it won't. Jury's still out.)
