Toast From Eden

I had a rather archaic breakfast this morning.

I wandered into work at the coffee shop bleary-eyed and stumbling, forcing my sleepy brain awake with minuscule sips of espresso.

I unlocked our stainless steel fridge, sleek and modern in the cool grey morning and found, to my surprise, a bag full of bulbous green figs.


They were strangely out of place in my ultra-modern, sleek-is-everything curated coffee bar. I was drawn to them immediately, our old souls connecting. Figs have always amazed me with their sweet, succulent simplicity.

And if these little fruits have been around since the Garden of Eden, just imagine how wonderfully steadfast they’ve been through the ages. Didn’t Adam and Eve sew their first garments out of fig leaves? (I checked. They did.)

Yet here they were, sitting primly on the white marble counter as though they belonged there so perfectly. So very far from Eden.

I sliced one open with the back of a spoon, the tender flesh yielding without any struggle. How could I not eat one for breakfast with a little ceramic demi cup of warm milk and honey? It was the smallest homage to a breakfast of hope and promise and gratitude. It was staggeringly Biblical and also quite reassuring.

I ate my archaic snack and finished my shift. I took a tiny tupperware of figs home with me and made the perfect late-summer snack: caramelized onion and fig toast.


(They did, in fact, come from the fig tree of one of my coworkers who was kind enough to share her bounty.)

Here’s my recipe!


You’ll need: 

a loaf of bread for toasting

a yellow onion, sliced thinly

bleu cheese

figs, also sliced thinly


butter, preferably as whole and fatty as possible (I like Kerrygold)

optional: pork lardons, or very thick bacon



  1. Using a toaster or skillet, toast your bread. Spread with a thin layer of butter.
  2. In a saucepan, melt a knob of butter. Add onions and let cook until caramelized and tender.
  3. In another small saucepan, add about 3T honey and 1/4c water. Once combined, bring to a simmer. Add sliced figs and let simmer until figs are tender and glazed. (It’s ok if they fall apart.)



4. To assemble the toast, spread first a layer of caramelized onions. Top with figs, cooked bacon lardons. Sprinkle with bleu cheese.

5. Enjoy!


Deuteronomy 8:7-9

For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing forth in valleys and hills; a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive oil and honey, a land where you will eat food without scarcity, in which you will not lack anything; a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills you can dig copper. 

Campfire Setup

If you’re in Portland right now, you know. It’s hot outside. It’s 100 degrees, which means coffee shops across town are running low on cold brew and the fan aisle of Walmart looks like the apocalypse struck.

It’s time to leave town and go camping.


Recently, I made the best purchase of the season. I bought a camping cookstove that hooks up directly to a propane tank. It’s small, durable, travel-friendly and, most importantly, heats evenly.

Hand in hand with its soulmate, a cast iron skillet, camping just took on a whole new level of outdoor cooking confidence.


By no means should you bail on building a fire or cooking on it, but if speed and efficiency are your game, you should consider a similar hookup. (Any outdoor sports store has ya covered.)

So what did I cook with my new, fancy gear? I’ll be honest, I didn’t exactly reach for any stars. I made egg-in-a-hole, and it tasted delicious. Something about that mountain air.


Step one. Lay out your gear. Never travel without your skillet, some cooking oil and some salt. (Pepper optional.)

The only additions to this truly minimalist setup were a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs.

Step two. Put that pan on the burner and warm it up. Grease thoroughly with oil.

Step three. Use any possible device (I used the lid of my Pam spray) to punch a hole in the bread, cookie-cutter style. Place bread in pan and let toast. If it doesn’t sizzle when it hits the pan, your skillet isn’t hot enough.


Step four. Crack that egg right in that hole. Please note the (clean) hiking sock used as a pan handle and take my word of advice: buy a pot handle sleeve or bring a towel, those babies get too hot to touch. Or be ghetto, like me, and use a sock or something.

Season with salt and pepper, then flip your toast as gracefully as possible to cook the opposite side. If your yolk breaks or you make a mess, tell your camping party that you are serving a ‘rustic-style’ breakfast and that they have no other choice but to eat it and marvel at your authenticity.



Remove from pan and serve.

Eat, enjoy, and pack up your things for a hike. You’re in the great outdoors! Go enjoy them.


Toast & Tiny Spaces

My shoebox apartment, after almost three weeks of building Wal-Mart furniture and investing in things like Swiffers and dish towels, looks lived in.

Thank goodness. The bare walls and echoing silence were driving me bonkers.

Granted, it’s messy and unfinished, but it’s home. Portland, you’re stuck with me.

As promised: tiny kitchen photographs! (This is truly the entirety of the space. Not just the kitchen… the whole apartment.)


Were you to stand in the middle with your hands on your hips, you’d take up all the room, elbows brushing both walls.

A handful of my favorites: biographies on Julia Child, all of Ruhlman’s work, Mark Kurlansky’s Salt (personal favorite) and a few other gems that I reach for regularly. The rest….



… are being repurposed as bedstands. Multitasking!

The walls are still empty, filled only with twinkling lights (I moved in during the holidays, which means lights are everywhere and cheap to find) and a big chalkboard. And that’s all.


Since I own one cast-iron hotplate, I am making one-dish meals with finesse. Like French Toast Sticks.

Hold onto your hats, ladies and gents.


The recipe is so easy I’m going to just show you pictures.


4 slices of bread/toast IMG_2251

1 egg

3/4c milk

1 T butter

1/4c sugar

1 1/2 t cinnamon


Step one: cut up your toast. (My knives are all packed away so I used kitchen shears. This is the first time I’ve cut even remotely straight lines.)


It is important to note that if your bread is already stale and kinda crunchy there is no need to toast it. Since I am broke and can only afford cheap, processed breads, they need toasting to withstand being coated.

Combine one egg and about 3/4c milk. Beat well together.

Gently coat your toast sticks in the egg batter, coating evenly without dunking soggily.

In a pan over medium-high heat, melt a tablespoon of butter. Lay your coated toast sticks in the pan and let them sizzle happily until golden. (Fun fact: I have only used homemade butter since my post on butter here and it makes everything I cook seem cool and artisan.)


Remove from pan. While still warm, roll in cinnamon sugar mix. (1/4c sugar + 1 1/2t cinnamon.)



I topped this batch with cranberries, sliced almonds and chocolate, but it’s endlessly customizable. French Toast is the best. It’s fast and delicious.

Anyway, one-pan meals are becoming the norm. I’m having fun looking at barebones foods and creating dishes from them. There is a list of recipes in a tiny tin box on my counter that will all eventually end up here, in your hands, where hopefully they’re put to good use.

Bon Appetite!