...we posed for holiday cards.
Because apparently this home fosters procrastination, hideous Christmas lights, illicit alcohol consumption and very loud singalongs.

I mean.
That's about right.

 I am willing to wager that there is Christmas music blaring on your television in the background as you read this.

So photos taken during blissful September, when the days were still long and sleeves were an anticipated novelty, is kind of a slap in the face. But as I flipped through my iPhoto gallery I realized some of these simply had to be shared.

In September, Matt and I went to see one mister Dave Matthews play the Life is Good festival with Tim Reynolds. With the proceeds going to their children's charity, it felt like quite good to spend an evening drinking Harpoon and singing along.

After that, we were off to Chicago for the last weekend of the month, for the wedding of two totally wonderful people. The long weekend stay consisted of a baseball game, a few dive bar visits, a beautiful ceremony and en epic reception.

I couldn't bring myself to lug the big camera around for the evening (a wise choice, Drunky Magoo), so I relied on my small point and shoot camera, which I had all but forgotten existed. The result was some blurry but well-timed pics that simply needed a little tweaking. These shots are heavily edited, hopefully to better convey just how perfect, warm, and loving the day really was.  Cheers, Newlyweds. You throw a hell of a party.




Wedding photos after the jump!

This weekend featured a trip to Chicago for Matt's Godson's christening. It also in included toddlers, tacos, and lots of fun. Some highlights:

Happy almost-December, everyone.

While the Christmas season certainly means more to me than gratuitous consumerism, I must admit I got swept up in the Black Friday holiday hoopla this year.
Armed with a day off and hellbent intent to give our living room a facelift, Matty and I set out on an adventure that involved a UHaul (to pick up free hand-me-down couches from my friend Courtney) and a few hours (yep, hours) at Best Buy.

After never giving in to the flat-TV need for years, I was finally ready to toss our old tube television out on the sidewalk and get rid of the old brown couches we'd been working with since we moved in--one of which Ozzie had nearly destroyed by gnawing at a small hole in the cushion daily until it became a nearly two-foot rip. Thanks, dawg.

But anyway.
We emerged victorious with a 50" flat screen, two microfiber red couches, and a new gray shag rug. But, upon returning home, it became increasingly clear that mounting the TV over the fireplace mantle as I'd envisioned would be an issue. The guys searched for studs, but came up blank. After some drilling, it became clear that the dry wall over the mantle was just covering the brick chimney behind it. We toyed with keeping a TV stand or choosing a different wall, but Matt knew just how badly I wanted the room laid out. He went down to the wood shop in the basement and got to work.

...we cuddled. In a strictly platonic fashion, of course.


...and today, they are gone and I am left with the one with the creepy mustache.
God help us all.

...considering I have been working in the mobile industry for almost six years (!) now, and have been slowly but surely becoming a Mac enthusiast during that time...but previously, my carrier did not have the iPhone, and I still had to wait two ungodly years for an upgrade.

So.

Now.

Finally.

Here we are.




Instagram photos will finally be getting a piece of the blog action, as my previous device left so much to be desired in the camera department.

Get ready for a lot more on-the-go action, friends.

It's about damn time.

That right there, ladies and gentlemen, is the love of my life.

While I must admit I miss the messy beard that earned him the contact title "Fuzzface" in my orange LG EnV flip phone back in the day, this here stache serves quite the purpose, of course.

You see, Matty, along with my roommate Kurt, and many of my friends are participating in Movember to raise money and awareness for mens health issues like prostate and testicular cancer.

You can see the evolution of Kurt's stache after the jump, and you can still donate to their Movember team here. They've raised a lot of money and are among the top teams in Boston!

Proud of my (creepy looking) dudes.

Hello hello.
Back with more libations and smiles. Tis the season, is it not?

First, a Public Service Announcement:
If you're living in a major metropolitan area, especially my fair city of Boston, I highly recommend that you subscribe to emails from Thrillist and Urban Daddy for upcoming events, restaurant openings, and otherwise entertaining shit that does not involve the dive bar on your corner.

It was all thanks to an email from Thrillist back in August that I became privy to the fact that there was a full-fledged, craft distillery right down the road from my own front door. GrandTen has been open for a while now, and when they put the finishing touches on their tasting room in August, I knew we had to check it out. I reached out to the GrandTen guys directly regarding a tour, and received a super-nice, personal email back from Spencer, one of the co-founders of GrandTen, telling us to "come on by" any Tuesday evening or Saturday.

Of course, a while went by since the summer, with Matty and I traveling and generally forgetting about the liquor pilgrimage I had inquired about. And then, I saw GrandTen's flagship gin at our local liquor store, and I knew I had to reach out to Spencer again and go see this place for myself.

Notice: This is not so much a tutorial as it will be a "look what I made" and some insight into my hackneyed skills. You have been warned.




I've been trying to get craftier in my day-to-day life. I really have.
I have purchased some tools and gizmos, in fits of inspiration off Amazon.
I have sanded a coffee table and applied an initial coat of crazy-bright lime green paint (love it).
And I have Pinned a bunch of things. Obviously.

But as goes the sunlight in the late afternoon these days, time and ambition are hard to come by when you're working full time and pursuing other interests (eating all the things and taking photos of all the edible and non-edible things).
But. I'm trying.
And by adding a nav bar item and tag for DIY and crafts, I hope to expand my posts to include art with more traditional mediums and simple solutions for daily decor and life. While graphic design and Photoshop are a pillar of my creativity, I am trying to step away from the glow of the Mac screen from time to time.
Being unplugged feels nice sometimes.
And creating something tangible feels even better.

Corn bread is one of those things.
It can go from breakfast to a snack to a side with the swap of a pan, a drizzle of honey, or a spoonful of chili. It is so approachable, so versatile and so (so, so, so) very comforting.

I was super excited when I found this recipe online for a gluten-free corn bread that didn't involve exorbitant amounts of various flour alternatives (potato or tapioca starch, anyone?) and then baked in my trusty (pre-heated) cast iron skillet. The hot pan makes for a nice crust on the outside of a light and fluffy cornbread.

After making once and loving the original, I knew it was time to fiddle with it a bit.

And to me, "fiddling" means adding bacon and jalapeños. Obviously.

So, without further ado.
Please make this so when I post about corn bread stuffing that I hope know will be delicious, you already have one component ready.
And because it's perfect, all on its own.

Continuing on the mission of sharing photos from the long-departed summer season, I bring some of my favorite photos from early September, when I found myself at Porsche Sport Driving School in Birmingham, Alabama.

...For work.

Life's tough sometimes.

Along with the perks of driving beautiful cars, the scenery at Barber Motorsports Park really cannot be beat. Rolling green hills prove to be an excellent backdrop for racing cars. And when three days of aggressive driving was up, we got to enjoy a stroll through their ridiculous vintage car and motorcycle museum on premises.

And though I know seriously next to nothing about anything and everything motorspots, I am just as enticed by a shiny new Porsche or fancy old Impala as the next guy girl.

I couldn't help but capture. Enjoy.

I had almost forgotten about this magical evening over Labor Day Weekend.

A simple, early-Sunday-morning text message, comprised of; "boat cruise?" brought ten or so of us together for a few drinks on dry land (at one of our favorites, LTK), followed by a meandering walk over to the wharf behind Remy's, where we strolled down a plank onto a small, two story boat.

Barely anyone followed.

We proceeded on our almost-private cruise, the bar rife with a most limited selection of beverages, and had one of the best nights in recent memory. And a perfect finale for what wound up being the sweetest, seemingly shortest summer of my life.

I have written about these little quinoa patties in the past.

When I first started to cook, a lot, I had recently discovered quinoa and came across this recipe from Seven Spoons.

When it became clear that Matty would no longer be eating wheat products, I began constantly thinking of tasty, easy breakfasts that didn't involve toast or an English muffin.

On Monday, during the infamous Frankenstorm, I worked from home and made these early in the morning, with fried bacon and poached eggs. Today, I wanted to do something different, as I knew how delicious they were all on their own. With a slather of avocado and a dash of hot sauce, these were the perfect afternoon snack before Matt and I ventured down the street to check out a distillery in our neighborhood (yes. Seriously. More on that to come, I promise). These are just the right balance of crunchiness and chewiness, and could lend itself to endless possibilities. The perfect afternoon bite on a fall weekend.

...That about sums it up.

No.
Okay.
For real.

I understand why people are asking when Matt and I intend to get married.
It's been months since we got engaged. I get it.
The people have a right to know.
But since I have this dear soap box, I figured why not use it?
And explain why I answer "I have no idea!" so enthusiastically when you inquire when the big day shall be.

It's a multitude of reasons, really.
And I'll cover them as honestly and efficiently as I can.
But, I feel the real reason we are taking our time is evident throughout this entire rambling monologue.
It's quite simple, really.

Because we can.

And we're back!
Hope everyone here on the east coast is getting back to their routine. For those of you that can't just yet, hopefully you're reading this from somewhere warm and comfortable. And for those of who can: you may donate via text to the American Red Cross for relief efforts. Every bit helps, as they say.
It's true.

We already covered the hurricane's impact on me (or lack thereof); trapped inside, I decided to cook all the things. It was windy. Ozzie didn't want to pee.

Fazekas posed:



...and that about summed it up!

But prior to the tasty salsa verde I made, I first had tackled the gorgeous orange habaneros we'd grown in the backyard as well, about a week ago.

Alas, I knew I had to find a way to do this without making something simply way too hot for my taste buds (which is relatively uncommon, but those little peppers pack a whopper punch that somewhat terrifies me. Biting into one to confirm it was, in fact, hot did not help. Idiot).

So, I grabbed a lot of heirloom tomatoes (again, Kimball fruit farm. Thanks for being my lunch-hour salvation every Tuesday and Thursday, guys!) and some sweet corn and decided to wing it. It was beautiful out, so I employed the grill to roast everything prior to mixing. The result a just-spicy-enough, hearty, chunky salsa that Matt simply had to fry fresh tortilla chips for. If you're still grilling, give this a go. You'll be glad you did.

Hello.

Final tomatillo crop of 2012!

What has your uncle done for you? 
Boo boo neww boo newww OO-ooo-ooo-yeah.

Told you guys I was back in the kitchen!
And though, as I am typing this, NStar is currently sending a "construction crew" to my home to determine the reason our gas mysteriously stopped working on our brand new stove, I am confident that this weekend will be no exception in my culinary pursuit (hear that, gas guys? I am serious. I also REALLY, REALLY LIKE HOT SHOWERS. BY THE WAY.)

On that note, I wanted to share an easy weekend breakfast I made a few weeks ago with limited ingredients: swiss chard I'd nabbed at the Farmer's Market (from Kimball's Fruit Farm, of course), eggs, and some top-grade salami (when else does one buy salami with the intent of eating it sober and not on a 2AM sandwich? Anyone?). The result was this fluffy, delicious frittata that was perfect for the late summer Saturday morning it was served. Now that it's fall and some hearty greens are in full swing, this would be great with kale (have I mentioned that I like kale?) or spinach as well. Toast up some crusty bread and brew some coffee, and enjoy your weekend morning (maybe outside while you still can--apparently us East Coast folks are in for what is being dubbed a "Frankenstorm"...fantastic). 

Anyway. Without further ado.



What it's Made of:
(Recipe adapted from Epicurious, here)

• 4-5 large eggs (use your judgement, more if you don't use the yogurt)
• 1 6oz container plain Greek yogurt (optional, but gives such a good texture)
• 3 T parmesan cheese
• 2 T EVOO
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 bunch swiss chard, removed from stems and torn
• Genoa salami (I used one pre-sliced small container, about 3 oz), sliced thin and cut in quarters

How it's Made:

• Preheat oven to 400 degrees
• Whisk eggs, yogurt and cheese together with some salt and pepper
• Heat EVOO in a large, oven-proof skillet over medium-high heat
• Add onion and garlic to skillet and allow to cook for 3-5 minutes, until onion is soft
• Add swiss chard in batches, stirring until wilted, then adding the next handful
• Add salami and stir until combined
• Pour eggs over mixture, allow to set momentarily before transferring to oven
• Run a rubber spatula around the edges to prevent eggs from sticking
• Transfer to oven and bake for about 10 minutes, until cooked through and a fork pulls out clean
• Top with additional salt, pepper and parmesan. And eat.

...and thank the lord for your functioning stove. Enjoy.

Products relevant to this post:

Well.
It's that time of year, again, friends.
When you can finally turn the oven on and not loathe every second in your kitchen.
When the thought of a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes sounds ideal.
When cooking becomes so enjoyable, you find yourself trying to reinvent the wheel with seasonal ingredients just for the hell of it.

That's what I did here-- I'd had chicken piccata a week or so prior while at one of my favorite restaurants (our neighborhood haunt, if you will), and was taken aback by just how good it was (224 nails it, also). There, served with mashed potatoes and some sautéed spinach, got me immediately thinking of variations I could try.

And since I put kale in just about everything (whaaat?!), that was the next logical leap. The giant spaghetti squash I'd bought in a fit of autumn produce purchasing the weekend before seemed like it would compliment things nicely (it did). And luckily, I had capers on hand (from that morning I simply had to have lox). This was easy, relatively quick, and absolutely delicious.

For once, I had dinner on the table before 8PM; and with the sun starting to set a little sooner, that made all the difference.

We're finally almost caught up with photo sharing from my (apparently) very long summer.
And by "almost", I mean, just two months behind or so now.

There are so many new photos I have taken and things I have cooked and stories to be shared. But first, I had to post about one of my favorite weekends in August, spent in Burlington, Vermont.

If it wasn't implied by past posts on the subject, I quite enjoy the company and people that I work for. Being part of such a small startup seems to encourage traditions and inside jokes, neither of which are lacking in our office. One such tradition, however, that stems a little further than beers at 3PM on the nose on Fridays, is "Company Weekend". Every year, we all leave the office around noon on the first Friday in August and make the four-hour or so trek from Boston to northern Vermont, where we spend the weekend on Lake Champlain with each other, significant others, spouses, families, children, pets, and usually a hefty supply of explosives to be launched into the night sky. 2012 was no exception. Here are some highlights, without any further ado.

...I am spending some quality time with my brother.

And by "quality", I mean, we are locked in a pen in the yard because he is an idiot and incapable of not running away. 

Thanks a lot, bro.

The pressure cooker has always been slightly allusive to me.

It certainly doesn't help that on every competitive cooking show ever, someone always needs to braise something, but only has three minutes and sixteen seconds to do so, so they turn to the pressure cooker, only to ultimately have the lock mechanism malfunction or something ridiculous, and they spend the latter half of their menial time freaking out that their short ribs will never see the light of day or that their face will be melted off by the pressure when they finally rip the thing open.

But after purchasing one on Groupon Goods months upon months ago, I decided to solicit Courtney, my resident foodie friend, what the hell to do with it.

Court has a go-to recipe when she doesn't feel much like cooking that involves limited ingredients and even less preparation: Italian sausage with tomato sauce. Something so simple, she texted me what to do in three SMS messages. Add some fresh pasta or a few sub rolls and you have a thirty minute meal that tastes like it took hours to put together. In honor of this meal, and the fact that I rarely have much time at night to dedicate to a feast, I introduce Minute Mondays. On the worst day of each week, I'll try to share something simple you can make with limited ingredients, effort, time, or (like this) all of the above. In handy dandy photo format!

Hello, hello.
It's been quite the week of travel for me. More on that (and copious photos and video of a pretty amazing week from behind the steering wheel of a sports car) in a few days. I promise.

For now? Enjoy a few more scenes from a mere eleven or so weeks ago. I have had such a good time composing these highlights from my summer, but this set is my favorite for utterly obvious reasons. I spent a week in lakeside paradise. I swam, and slept, and sung, and smiled. And I watched in absolute shock as the guy I have fallen so helplessly in love with over the past four years got down on bended knee, and chose me.

It will be the summer vacation to beat, forever.
Enjoy.



See the rest of my summer vacation after the jump.

A few weeks back we were down the cape (as they say), at our friend's parent's house yet again, for a weekend of beer and beaches and, apparently, all the delicious things we could squeeze into forty-eight or so hours. There was steak, of course. Matty also whipped up some tender, butter-drenched mussels. I set out some buffalo chicken dip around 6PM, and by 6:15, we were just about scraping the bottom with our tortilla chips. Basil from Dorchester and tomatoes from the back yard we were lounging in made for a caprese salad. There were marathon breakfasts and afternoon snacks. Chased with champagne, or beer, and a trip to the beach again. It was one of the most perfect, final summer weekends I could have asked for.

Of course, setting five twenty-something, starving, hungover individuals loose in a foreign Cape Cod supermarket on a Saturday morning is arguably one of the more chaotic things one could do, but it proved to be a great (albeit expensive) adventure. As we all wandered the aisles, I ran into my best friend's husband, Andy, by the seafood counter, as he surveyed packages of smoked salmon.

"Gettin' lox, kehd," he told me, as we all tend to lay on the Boston accent (which we normally lack) obnoxiously thick while spending the weekend on the cape.

I nodded enthusiastically. Probably a little too excited for smoked fish, but it's a thing for me. Not something I have often, and not something I necessarily crave. But when it's available, it's what I will always choose.

I think, for me, bagels with lox is a comfort food. Not because it reminds me of home. Instead, it reminds me of where I have been and where I want to go next.

Hello friends.
Are we all settled back in? Got your lunch packed up, your shoes tied tight?
By now I am assuming we have all gotten over our Labor Day weekend hangovers, and, if your weather has been anything like dear old Beantown's has been; you're just about ready for the humidity to cease, the temperature to take it down a notch or two, and for fall to settle in.

I always have a hard time seeing the summer go. I love long days. Evenings illuminated by tiki torches and enveloped in smoke from the grill. I love the sand under my toes and Summer Shandy on my lips. Everything is ripe, refreshing, relaxing. Perfect.

This was arguably the best summer of my life, to date (I don't know if you heard), and so many photos of so many beautiful people and places and moments were taken. Sorting through them has been a task that is far from complete. But considering the breadth, I'll split my birth month into a few posts. Starting here, early in the month with (yet again) concerts and beaches. Enjoy. I sure did.




Click through for the rest. Including Tenacious D's ridiculous stage backdrop at their Bank of America Pavilion concert. Debatably NSFW. Curious how it was safe for the public?

In my about page (did you know I had one of those? The link was invalid for a few months. So. Sorry about that. My bad), I specifically call out why I started this blog, long before I ever fancied myself a "foodie": I wanted to write. Often. And even, back around sixteen years old, when I found some bootleg web hosting service and registered this dear old domain, I knew what I wanted to do with the space: Share my writing. Practice my web and graphic design "skills". And that was about it.

I am most certainly proud of what has happened with neverbroken.com, especially in the past year or so. Again, if you're here, especially regularly; I really cannot thank you enough. I hope you'll enjoy some rambling, anecdotal type posts just as much as the next bacon-laden recipe. I have decided Fridays, whenever possible, will be for storytelling. So here's your first tale. It's about finding my footing in Boston, just about ten years ago, and ever chasing those allusive cool kids.

It's been quite some time since I have posted a set of photos.
Okay. So, like, the whole summer.
Sorry, friends.
It's been a crazy few months, and I'd really love to take a few moments to share some highlights, starting where we last left off: June.
It was a month full of long days, concerts and shows, and delicious food (naturally).

Without any further ado. Enjoy.

So I missed Tuesday Boozeday, but I can't leave you completely sans-midweek-alcoholic-treats, can I?

Of course not. And I had previously alluded to frozen alcohol last week, so I definitely could not leave you all out in the cold (pun absolutely intended).



So, without further ado, here's the quickest, yet also slowest (freezing time) cocktail recipe ever

What they're Made of:

• 1 cup white wine
• 2 T sugar
• 1/2 cup blackberries

How they're Made:

• Blend all ingredients together in a blender
• Pour into popsicle molds (or Dixie cups the old-fashioned way)
• Freeze for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight
• Wine for breakfast?

I am throwing a housewarming party in my new mansion that the furry-faced one made for me from scrap sticks and potentially toxic wood stain (but who knows/cares what that even means? Toxic? There are things in this world one can't eat?!) 

I have just one question
Who's bringing the bitches? 
(I mean that literally and therefore I am not offensive)
Also BYOB. To you, that might mean beer. To me, it means bones. 
Any of the above B-words will get you in the door at Casa De Oz.
And if the neighbors call the cops, you don't know me. Got it?

I know.

Before you say "eww" at the thought of hot lettuce (an inclination which many of us, myself included, have), give these quick bites a whirl. The grilling of the romaine makes it a touch crunchy and provides some great flavor, and gives you an opportunity to melt some parmesan on there. Come on. Try something new. I promise the rest of this post will be void of other gag inducing concepts (such as the word "moist"), just for good form.

I made these in under ten minutes while a bunch of us were hanging out in the backyard, and then passed them out to people accordingly. It's the ultimate hands-off (then hands-on) grill snack.

"I mean, I suppose I will go either way, but I would really prefer if there were some sort of schedule of arranged drinking activities for us to abide by." 

Friends, we may have a dilema.
There's just too many summer snacks that I need to tell you about.
I still have photos just chilling in iPhoto of the most delicious, seasonally appropriate things. Strawberry salsa. Jalapeño corn bread. Guacamole. The list goes on.

So, I mean, as the temperature climbs toward ninety degrees today, I guess it is pretty evident that we are still deep in the throes of summer. So perhaps I can take my time. But these beautiful tomatoes couldn't wait another moment. Make these as soon as possible. You will be so happy you did.

Back again with another not-even-mid-week alcoholic treat for you!

Over the weekend I bought mini-popsicle molds, so next week be prepared for me to hop on the "poptails" train like some of my favorite bloggers recently.

But, in the meantime, we have a lot of champagne in the fridge (I don't know if you heard, there was cause to celebrate a few weeks ago when we returned home from vacation. And our friends are alcoholics awesome), and a lot of fruit about to turn. I also got a handy immersion blender for my birthday that I have been using to prep just about everything, so this was a no-brainer. And a great change from the usual sparkling-wine-and-citrus combo we all indulge in every weekend (right?!)

This happened. 

I don't know who told you I am a blubbery sea lion and not a miniature canine, but they are sorely mistaken. I'll stick to swimming in the pool of piss I'll be sure to leave on your sheets tonight.

Assholes.

Back when I was still figuring out what the heck to do with this here blogspace, and before I was really "into" cooking, beer can chicken was something that I felt I could cook perfectly and instruct others on. So, for my first ever food post, this was what I focused on.

I just re-read that entry, back when I was living in Medford years ago. And though the pictures were taken with a shitty Blackberry (or perhaps even the LG Envy 2. Or the Palm Pre. I went through a lot of mediocre phones in the past few years) and the directions are nowhere near the specificity I would try to provide now; I still did a pretty good job of explaining probably the easiest chicken preparation out there.

So now, let's bring this back to present day with a prettier picture and some suggestions on execution. Truth be told, like that first entry, there isn't much of a recipe here. But there is a "right" way to combine a can of beer and a chicken. And here it is.

Set to some Bruno Mars and made to look somewhat like a comic book, naturally...

I know. It's only the day after Monday. And most of you are sitting at a desk, trying to tackle a surely insurmountable workload. But my former boss used to have a saying that I still reference quite often. It was:

"Fuck Tuesdays."


So, in the spirit of my long-lost colleague and most-hated weekday, I have decided on a new feature that I will try to present each week: Tuesday Boozeday. Sometimes, a cocktail recipe; sometimes just a "try this NOW!" beer or wine recommendation, but always, a swift slap in the face of Tuesdays and a nod toward the ever-impending weekend.

We made these delicious blender drinks while on vacation on Lake Michigan. Made with berries straight from a farm stand off the side of Blue Star Highway, it was the perfect afternoon refreshment as we watched the waves roll in from the deck of our vacation house.

...it is hot enough for me. Stop fucking asking. 

I said these posts would be much more consistent. But then I came here, to Lake Michigan, on vacation.