They say in Seattle it rained every day in January. I was lucky enough to escape to Palm Spring for a long weekend for work, and can I just say, you forget how much you miss the sun until you're sitting outside eating chips and guacamole and enjoying a 3pm margarita. It was good to be away. The thing about having young kids, as all parents out there already know, is your personal desires are basically always suppressed in favor of keeping your kids alive, healthy, and happy. Let's dig into this for a minute: rarely do I actually get to ponder what I'd like to eat for breakfast or what my body feels like it really needs. Nope, I typically eat the remains of Oliver's frozen waffle and grab a handful of nuts on the way out the door (parents who survive off of your kid's scraps: I SEE YOU).

Last week, we took a quick trip to Lake Tahoe to celebrate my sister Zoe's birthday and the last hurrah of summer. My family has a cabin on the lake that we've had since I was a little girl, and it felt like a pretty big deal showing Sam and Oliver around the little town -- where we got ice cream as kids, the mini golf course, the modest town beach and run-down motel that's been there for ages. We got burgers at The Char Pit, Oliver went on his first boat ride and his first hike, and we saw some crazy-pink California sunsets. When we got back to Seattle it felt surprisingly like fall: somehow in the span of just a few days, we've got leaves on the ground and cooler mornings and evenings. I promptly packed away my swimsuits, got out my sweaters, and made a run to the farmers market to load up on summer produce while we still can: tomatoes, eggplant, peaches. Oliver's been eating the peaches for breakfast in yogurt or cottage cheese and I had plans to make ratatouille with the eggplant and tomatoes, but then I thought maybe I should try something a bit out of my comfort zone. So I got out a big pot, and set out to fry up some eggplant fries.