four pounds of butter


I sent my husband to the store for four pounds of butter. I gathered some of the flowers and leaves left blooming and shifting outside: tansy, dried heads of bee balm from the garden, fuchsia leaves and berries from the bush behind the barn. I arranged them on the counter and in the window box, and hung a wreath of dried bedstraw over the big wooden table. 

I set a pot to simmer with cinnamon sticks, star anise, cardamom pods, cloves, and fresh ginger and added tulsi and rooibos and honey and fresh milk. 

And then, all at once the house was full, tables rearranged, mugs filled with milky chai, hands in rich, buttery dough. 


We talked about the way that bread is in our bones but pastry is a gift we can give. We talked about math formulas for lamination, enriched dough and fermentation, how to make a quick puff, and how Julia Child suggested the finest pastry has more than 500 layers.  

We sat down to a lunch of pumpkin red lentil daal, a tart made from leek confit and aged goats’ cheese, farro with kale pesto and butternut and delicate, roasted beet salad, homemade applesauce, and bread, bread, bread. 


At the end of our afternoon we all stood around the plates of croissant, tasting the buttery plain spirals and the chocolate-filled scrolls, sharing the crisp, nutty, rich joy that is homemade viennoiserie. 

There were croissant for days. I made the first dough Friday and didn’t bake the last batch til Tuesday morning. I sent them off to neighbors and friends, and we all ate our weight in them, too. 

In five days there were four pounds of butter baked, four dozen croissant, not even a handful of photos (didn’t even cross my mind to take one once we were all together and baking), one batch of puff pastry, five jars of starter passed along, and six new friends and old acquaintances sharing a warm October meal. 

Those are pretty good numbers, I’d say. 


a sunday in june


Sunday found us gathered in my small, warm kitchen. Gathered to bake bread, to learn the motions of folding and turning, to put hands to dough and remember. 

We mixed dough and put our noses close to learn with all of our senses about fermentation and happy, thriving wild yeast. We shaped, scored, and waited with anticipation to pull the lids off of the pots to see the spring. 


There was laughter over lunch, a simple meal served family-style. Farro with roasted rhubarb and golden beets and new carrots dressed in a balsamic glaze, all tossed lightly in a kale and sunflower seed pesto. Cucumber and fennel salad, iced linden flower tea and black tea with violet honey. And bread; country loaves with the subtlest bit of rosemary, still-warm sliced aurora pan loaves, both served with just-picked-from-the-garden-radish butter and chèvre made next door and seasoned with smoked salt and rolled in chive blossoms.


Between folds and during rises, we walked into the field and forest to gather plants for making a simple summer salve. The children ran ahead and fell behind, whichever best suited that chapter of the imagined tale they were raptly living out, and we, as new friends and old, tucked red clover, yarrow, and plantain into our baskets. 


At the end of our afternoon together, we shared pie. A biscuit crust piled up high with lemony-sweet local strawberries and maple chantilly cream. The children each had two heaping slices and we grown-ups got some while we could. It was simple and homey, and best because it was shared in kind company.

Thank you to Karen, Leika, Maura, and Ada for spending a perfectly grey and lovely Sunday with us in my kitchen.


Strawberry Shortcake Pie 


6-8 cups fresh strawberries, halved or quartered depending on size

1/3 cup sugar

Zest of 1 lemon

Pinch of salt


1 1/2 cups heavy cream

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons maple syrup


Biscuit Pie Crust

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

6 tablespoons butter, cubed, very cold

1 cup buttermilk

To make the filling:

In a large bowl, toss together the strawberries, sugar, lemon, and salt, and allow to macerate while you prepare the dough. 

Make the crust:

In a large bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, salt, baking soda, and zest. Add the butter and use a pastry cutter to incorporate or use your fingers to blend the butter into the flour mixture until it resembles coarse meal. Drizzle in the buttermilk and work it in until just combined. 

Chill the dough in the refrigerator for about 15 minutes, then turn the dough out onto a floured counter and roll out to about 1/2" thick, or just flat enough to fit into your 9" pie dish with about 1" of overhang. 

Trim off any dough that hangs over more than 1", and fold the remaining dough in toward the center and crimp to create a crust. Poke holes in the dough with a fork, and freeze about 15 minutes. 

Heat oven to 350 degrees. To blind bake your crust, line the frozen crust with parchment and use pie weights or dried beans to weigh it down. 

Bake for 20 minutes, rotating halfway through. Remove from the oven and take out the weights/beans and parchment paper, and return the crust to the oven for an additional 10-15 minutes until golden brown on the edges and cooked through on the bottom. Allow the crust too cool completely. 

Once your biscuit has cooled, you can assemble the pie at any time just before you wish to serve it. 

Make the whipped cream by beating the cream, vanilla, and maple syrup until it holds peaks.

Layer whipped cream into the bottom of the biscuit crust and add a layer of strawberries. Repeat as many times as you are able, and then top the last layer of whipped cream with a few more berries. Serve immediately. 

All images with people in them taken by Leika


rainbow soup


Today is a pinch me day. A day to celebrate a joyful collaboration come to life, to share the collective vision, work, and spirit of two friends a coastline's length apart.


The Rainbow Soup collection is more than four prints - it is the shared efforts of two mamas finding inspiration in the work of their hands and homes, the imaginations of their children, and the beauty of the natural world.

The prints are inspired by my quilt patterns and shades of natural dyes, developed from our collaborative vision, and brought to paper with the precise attention to detail and flawless execution of Megan's hands alone.


 The ink colors were based on shades made in my kitchen dye pots from onion skins, avocado, cutch, black beans, osage orange, and indigo. The patterns from quilts I've made or stitches I've placed. Best of all,  Megan didn't just translate fabric sketches onto paper but instead imbued each image with the reflection and imperfection of work made by hand. Corners that don't perfectly match, stitches that run closer to the sides in some spots than others. A quilt is something human, after all.


Each of these letterpress prints were pulled by hand at Brown Parcel Press, once through the press for each color. They'll arrive to you wrapped in naturally dyed ribbon and hand printed paper, ready to adorn children's rooms and studios alike.


Shop the limited edition collection at Brown Parcel Press here.

Read more on Megan's journal here.

Happy Birthday, Henry

Our Henry is four!

We celebrated a whole bunch of times, first with two sets of out of town grandparents, followed by a special space party with friends on his last day of being three, and finally a little family celebration on the day itself.

Henry suggested the space theme for his party (he has been captivated by space, the planets, and the moon since he was teeny tiny), and I did my best to make it special.

Our friend McKenzie illustrated a sweet picture of Henry in space which I had made into a printing block for my letterpress, and Henry and I worked together to watercolor them as invitations and thank you cards.

I made two garlands of wool moons and starts to decorate for the celebration, and wool and naturally dyed silk shooting stars and constellation lacing cards as party favors.

Henry's special birthday cake recipe, a carrot and spelt flour cake with honey cream cheese frosting, is always a favorite!

We all had such a blast celebrating our now-four-year old. He is already such a good friend and helper, and I can't wait to see what the next year brings.