Hello and welcome to A Sweet Spoonful, my website cataloging living and cooking in my Pacific Northwest kitchen. My name is Megan Gordon, and I live in Seattle, WA with my husband Sam and our toddler son, Oliver. I’m work as the Director of Marketing and Sales at Simply Recipes, and in my free time continue writing culinary content, developing recipes, and teaching cooking classes.
I started this site in 2009 after losing my job teaching high school English in the San Francisco Bay Area. At the time, I began working in restaurants and writing about food for a small weekly newspaper. I’d write the blog at night, chronicling what I was cooking and baking at home throughout the week. Today, while many things have changed, the core of A Sweet Spoonful remains the same: it continues to be a place where I write about a recipe we’ve been enjoying in our home kitchen, interspersed with stories of crafting a full life: of falling in love, starting a business, building a home, writing a book, and having a baby. It’s become a community of loyal readers who often invite me into their kitchens each week, and I can’t imagine a greater compliment.
The recipes I highlight on the site are largely seasonal, mostly vegetarian and often focus on whole grains. And these days with an infant son in tow, I’m interested in quick, doable dinners and fuss-free recipes we can make in advance to enjoy throughout the week. And of course: breakfast. We love breakfast around here.
Will you try my product and tell me what you think?
I don’t often review products or do promotions and giveaways on the site. I do, however, often mention products that I’m enjoying and using in our kitchen. If you are interested in sending me something that’s relevant to A Sweet Spoonful, please feel free to reach out. I’d certainly be open to trying your product, but I can’t guarantee that I will always mention it on the blog.
Can we advertise on your site and / or partner with you on sponsored content?
I’d love to talk with you further. Please head over to the Work With Me page for more information.
Do you take all of your own photos?
I do unless otherwise specified at the bottom of the post. I now work with a Canon 5D Mark 2 and shoot most of the time using a 24-70 mm lens.
I’d like to use one of your photos on my site – is that ok?
Everything on A Sweet Spoonful (including the photos) is protected by copyright. Please reach out and ask to get proper permissions.
Who designed your website?
My husband, Sam Schick, and Eli Van Zoeren of the branding firm Neversink brought this site to life. They’re pretty great.
I’d like to learn more about working with you.
I’d love to talk with you about partnership opportunities, recipe development, or content / copy creation. Head over to the Work With Me page to learn more.
Where are your favorite spots to eat in Seattle?
How do I contact you?
The Thanksgiving Table
Today is a different kind of day. Usually posts on this blog come about with the narrative and I manage to squeeze in a recipe. But sometimes when you really stumble upon a winning recipe, it speaks for itself. We'll likely make these beans for Thanksgiving this year. They're one of those simple stunners that you initially think couldn't be much of a thing. And then they come out of the oven all sweet and withered and flecked with herbs. You try one and you realize they are, in fact, a pretty big thing.
I always force myself to wait until after Halloween to start thinking much about holiday pies or, really, future holidays in general. But this year I cheated a bit, tempted heavily by the lure of a warmly-spiced sweet potato pie that I used to make back when I baked pies for a living in the Bay Area (way back when). We seem to always have sweet potatoes around as they're one of Oliver's favorite foods, and when I roast them for his lunch I've been wishing I could turn them into a silky pie instead. So the other day I reserved part of the sweet potatoes for me. For a pie that I've made hundreds of times in the past, this time reimagined with fragrant brown butter, sweetened solely with maple syrup, and baked into a flaky kamut crust. We haven't started talking about the Thanksgiving menu yet this year, but I know one thing for sure: this sweet potato pie will make an appearance.
It has begun. Talk of who is bringing what, where we'll buy the turkey, what kind of pies I'll make, early morning texts concerning brussels sprouts. There's no getting around it: Thanksgiving is on its way. And with it comes the inevitable reflecting back and thinking about what we're thankful for. And about traditions. The funny thing about traditions is that they exist because they've been around for a long time. Year after year after year. But then, one Thanksgiving maybe there's something new at the table.
I didn't expect green beans to bring up such a great discussion on traditions, sharing of poems and how a piece of writing can linger with you. So thank you for that. Your comments pointed out how important people and place are and how food takes the back seat when it comes right down to it. Even if you feel quite warm towards Thanksgiving and are looking forward to next week, reading about recipe suggestions and meal planning online and in magazines can start to feel tiresome right about now. Why? Because I suppose when it all comes down to it, in the big picture it doesn't matter what we all serve anyway. Next year, you likely won't remember one year's vegetable side dish from another. What you'll remember are the markers that dotted the year for you: whom you sat next to at the table, a toast or grace, and the sense of gratitude you felt for something -- large or small.
I got a text from my mom the other day that read: demerara sugar? I responded back with a question mark, not sure what she was referencing. It turns out she was experimenting with a new pie recipe that called for the natural sugar and wasn't sure why she couldn't just use white sugar as that's what she's always done in the past. A few days later we talked on the phone and she mentioned she'd let me take charge of the salad for Thanksgiving this year as long as there was no kale. No kale! And I wanted to do the mashed potatoes? Would they still be made with butter and milk? In short, we're always willing to mix things up in the Gordon household. Whether it's inspiration from a food magazine, friend or coworker, either my mom or one of my sisters will often have an idea for something new to try at the holiday table. But what I've slowly learned is that it can't really be that different: there must be pumpkin pie, the can of cranberry sauce is necessary even though not many people actually eat it, the onion casserole is non-negotiable, the salad can't be too out there, and the potatoes must be made with ample butter and milk. And while I was really scheming up an epic kale salad to make this year, there's a big part of me that gets it, too: if we change things too much we won't recognize the part of the day that comes to mean so much: the pure recognition. We take comfort in traditions because we recognize them -- because they're always there, year after year. And so today I present to you (mom, are you reading?): this year's Gordon family Thanksgiving salad.