The oven was already on. I wasn’t thinking shortcake. I wasn’t thinking much of anything. Just standing barefoot in the kitchen with one sock on …

Recipes Inspired by Martha Stewart, Cooked in Real Life

The oven was already on. I wasn’t thinking shortcake. I wasn’t thinking much of anything. Just standing barefoot in the kitchen with one sock on …

It wasn’t hot enough for cake that day.Cloudy, like the sky couldn’t commit. The kind of weather that doesn’t tell you what to wear, so …

There was a morning last week that smelled like 2002.Faint smoke in the air. Not from leaves—someone’s chimney or too-hot toast. The kind that makes …

The oven was already on. I wasn’t thinking shortcake. I wasn’t thinking much of anything. Just standing barefoot in the kitchen with one sock on …

It started with the sound of rain and the smell of something sharp. not vinegar. not wine. something yellow and stubborn.lemon, maybe. or memory. the …

The oven light was out again. I didn’t fix it. Just let the dark stay in there while the heat worked. That’s how it felt …

it started with the eggs.not the ones I cooked—those were fine.I mean the eggs. the carton I dropped on the kitchen floor last week when …

It was cold enough that the windows coughed. That kind of morning where you wrap yourself in yesterday’s sweater and just…stand. Not doing. Just being …

The lemon hit first. Not even from the fruit itself—just the rind, curled and tired, sitting on the windowsill like it had something to prove. …

It started with the tin.Old. Lopsided. Bent from years of being slammed shut one-handed while holding a baby or a bowl or a breath.I hadn’t …