Hi.

 

My name’s Katie

 

 

I’m in my late 20’s.  I’m not 30.  Not yet, and probably not for at least 5 years.  At least that’s what I keep telling myself.  Seriously, I have convinced myself that I am a year younger then I actually am.

 

I like food.  I mean I really like food.  I love cooking it.  I love the way it tastes.  I love the way it looks.  I love the way it smells.  I even love the way it feels.

 

I spent 4 years and $80,000 on art school and here I am, in love with cooking and baking. 

 

Especially baking.  There is something about mixing together a bunch of all together ordinary ingredients and coming up with a luscious sweet treat that makes me swoon.  I like simple recipes and extremely complex labor indulgent, time-consuming recipes.  I love real frosting.  And chocolate.  And raspberries.  And caramel.  Okay I had better get back on track here before I run off to the kitchen.

 

I tend to bake late at night.  Which is fun, and productive.  It is not however conducive to dreamy food photographs.  It’s something I’m working on.  I don’t really enjoy mornings, unless you count lying on the couch drinking espresso watching the food network.

 

My philosophy about food is pretty simple.  Cook with things that you know what they are and where they came from.  If it came out of a box, it’s probably not good for you.  If it came out of your garden, eat until you burst.  If it sounds like it belongs in a science lab, it probably doesn’t belong in your tummy.  If you’re willing to take the time and make sweets from scratch, they can’t really be bad for you, right?  Right?

 

I have a husband, and two wonderful dogs.  They’re perfect.  

 They would never work together to steal 8 cupcakes.

I work a mundane, soul sucking 9-5 job where I daydream about cupcakes.  And cookies.  And whipped cream.

 

I’ve decided to funnel my wonderfully creative cooking and baking tendencies into a blog.  I have absolutely no professional experience in the food world (unless you count waitressing at Country Kitchen for a month when I was 17.  I don’t).  Maybe you will read this blog.  Maybe you won’t.  But cooking the food and putting up lovely photographs of it sounds divine.

 

So enjoy and have a snack.  Or, two, or 20.  I won’t tell.