Last month I had the privilege of visiting Sunset magazine’s new home: After over 50 years in Menlo Park, the magazine has moved into Jack London Square in Oakland—and they held a little press party to show off their beautiful new space. (I posted a fewphotos on Instagram at the time, but check out Lisa’s post for a more extensive look.) It was a thrill to meet some of the editors whose work I’ve admired for years.
One of the highlights of the night was—no surprise—the food. There were great cheeses by local makers, cute little miniature s’mores from Miette, and Tanya Holland of Brown Sugar Kitchen and B-Side BBQ served up some of the best fried chicken in memory. But the thing I couldn’t stop thinking about were the Candied Rosemary Hazelnuts that were set out at the cocktail table. I may have positioned myself nearby during the toasts.
Jason French, the chef/owner of Ned Ludd in Portland supplied the recipe, featured in the forthcoming book, Camp Sunset, and was kind enough to share it. Keep Reading >
Last year, after our bookclub read Lean In, there was a scene I kept thinking about: Sheryl Sandberg tells the story of a woman who would dress her kids in their school clothes at bedtime so she could save 15 precious minutes in the morning. It really stayed with me for the way it could seem at once completely crazy and completely rational. I mean, who really needs pajamas anyway? The book really gets you thinking about for whom those 15 minutes are precious, and why.
But it also struck a chord because it’s a real problem (okay, in that relative sense of the phrase “real problem”). Even in preschool, the routine of getting the kids dressed and out the door can drag on for what feels like forever. So while we haven’t done anything as drastic as putting the kids in their clothes at night, we have switched up the order of our routine and it has made all the difference: the new rule is that you have to be dressed for breakfast. Now Hudson races to get himself dressed first thing in the morning, motivated by the promise of bananas and peanut butter, yogurt and granola, and (usually) an episode of Octonauts.
He discovers—through a Toyota production technique of asking five questions of a single problem to get at its root cause—that the way to get the time he needs to sit down to dinner as a family in the evening can be solved by getting to school on time, which can be solved by having his kids set out clothes at night and getting dressed first thing in the morning.
For him, the “five whys” technique revealed a secret about productivity: “Productivity isn’t about running faster or pushing yourself harder, but rather, about working smarter and paying a bit more attention to what is really going on.”
What do you think? Maybe putting her kids in their school clothes at night isn’t so crazy? Anything you’ll be trying the five whys to address?
Ah, open shelving…it’s a scary beast, especially when you have kids. I’ve spoken with many people who say they’d never attempt it in a million years, that it seems like too much dusting, or that they don’t like clutter in the kitchen. Granted, it’s certainly not for everyone — but if you’ve been contemplating taking the plunge, there are a few key considerations you’ll need to keep in mind:
Invest in a few well-designed, functional pieces.
The more beautiful the items on your shelves, the better your kitchen will look. This does NOT mean everything you own has to be replaced with expensive, designer pieces, but rather that you’ll want to upgrade some items according to your tastes. Not everything has to match or have a cohesive color palette (although that looks awesome too) — but you should at least like everything aesthetically that will be on display.
Maybe your glassware is a jumbled mix of inherited items but you’re a minimalist at heart. Or maybe you have a vast collection of plastic cutting boards that are looking a little tired lately. Whatever it is, invest a little money in replacing what you don’t like with some things that you do (and don’t forget to donate whatever you can’t sell!).
