Compulsively reading design blogs has a downside. You begin to spot design trends. And then, when you like a trend, you start to second guess yourself. Do I  like XXX because I actually like it, or because it’s trendy? Your new love of XXX becomes something mildly shameful, a symbol of your sheep-like tendencies. Why can’t I have my OWN sense of style? Why must I love what everyone else loves?

But I’m here to say eff it! You love what you love. And who cares if it’s trendy. Case in point: I have fallen head over heels for air plants.

These tiny epiphytes, which hang in my dining room, don’t need soil, but they do need water. Once a week I take them out and give them a 20-minute soak. When they’re dry, I put them back in their cages. You can find more info on how to care for air plants here. (You can see we have some trouble growing traditional houseplants. The scraggly rubber tree in the window is currently recovering from a bout of ovewatering/sun deprivation. Sorry, buddy!)

I picked up my first air plant at a shop in Manhattan, and then I ordered four more from Air Plant Supply Co. One arrived with a tiny purple flower! Could she be cuter? Answer: No, she couldn’t. (Yes, I practice anthropomorphism. Sue me.)

To house the plants, I used glass holders from CB2 (here and here). I like the teardrop-shaped vases better than the round candleholders, but the teardrops have a smaller hole, which makes getting the plants in and out a bit challenging. (These might be the best of both worlds. Or these. Or these from West Elm.)

Trendy? Absolutely. But also totally adorable.

Sad, sad junk yard

You can’t tell from the photo, but this tiny room held two desks, two bookshelves, two filing cabinets, and a bunch of other random crap (that black thing sticking up behind the ‘before’ is Soren’s guitar case). Cramming all that in was quite a feat when you consider that I had to work around the room’s three doors (two entrances and a closet), two windows, and one radiator. In the above photo, you’re looking in from the hallway. I should have taken a few more shots of the old office, but you can’t blame me for not being inspired. My office needed a major overhaul. And FINALLY it got one. 

Here’s a view of that same corner today. SO. MUCH. BETTER. Even the cat thinks so.

New and improved!

Is it perfect? Of course not. I still have too much stuff. I’m a journalist and hoarding is in my blood — hence the boxes piled up under my desk and the stacks of magazines. My home is never going to look like something you would see in a design magazine. Still, I’m pretty pleased with the outcome.

My husband, Soren, is a weirdly excellent drawer of floor plans. So I asked him to whip up a sketch of my office to give you a better sense of how everything is laid out.

Want to see some more photos? Let’s just pretend you said yes.

Here’s a shot of my new standing desk (really just a wide shelf set at standing height). I think this rug (in turquoise) would look killer laying in front of it.

The chevron desk skirt I made hides two filing cabinets, a space heater, my sewing machine, a bunch of cords, and some other miscellaneous junk.

Here’s the door that goes to the hallway (left) and Soren’s closet door (right). That shelf would look so much better if it were white. Or if it were styled. Or if it were this shelf. (The hand saw is there because . . . well, you never know when a saw will come in handy. Best to be prepared.)

I received this tiny dog stapler as a gift from a very thoughtful seven year old, and I picked up the clock at a flea market in Bogota, Colombia.

Here’s a shot of Soren’s closet and the window that looks out on the backyard that we aren’t allowed to use. (Bah, landlords!) Those blinds aren’t doing that window any favors. And that lamp is really ugly. Maybe someday I’ll get a new one. Maybe someday I’ll replace the board on top of the radiator with an actual radiator cover. But probably not. It’s a rental, after all.

Izzy (aka cat, kittens, tiny tot, lemon). She is a terrible secretary.

Some of you may recognize this cow. It was at our wedding standing next to the cheese plate.

The muse most journalists need.

These boxes have been great for storing craft supplies. I used letter stamps and shipping tags to make the labels.

Sometimes I take pictures of myself holding informative signs. This one helps me remember that I’m self-employed. Just in case I forget. Because that would be really embarrassing. You can tell by my expression that I take my job very seriously. (Yes, that is a headset I’m wearing. Just call me Janet Jackson.)

The photos in the white frames (like the one behind my head) are shots of sea urchin babies my colleagues and I took with a high-powered microscope during our week in Woods Hole.

Thanks for visiting my new and improved home office. Stop by anytime. I’ll feed you cookies and let you play with my headset. Maybe we can sing some YouTube karaoke. I’ll be Janet.

Where did you get that wonderful/hideous . . .

For Easter, I made an Italian pork roast called porchetta. The labor-intensive recipe came from my favorite bread book, Tartine Bread.  The Tartine recipe starts with a boneless butterflied pork shoulder. This gets smeared with a mix of olive oil, fennel tops, fennel seeds, crushed red pepper, parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, salt, and — because this is a bread book — bread crumbs. Then you roll the whole thing up like a rug and bind it with string.

The roast should resemble a Hostess Ho Ho, albeit with pork instead of cake and fennel stuffing instead of cream. This pork Ho Ho gets roasted at 220 degrees for 8-10 hours. I did the roasting while I slept, but I wouldn’t recommend this. My dreams were haunted by pigs, smoke alarms, and kitchen fires. Sweet dreams aren’t made of these.

The pork turned out delicious. But the stuffing was . . . meh . . . not great. First, there was way too much of it. Second, it was too fennel-y. Or too bread-y. Definitely too something. I may try this recipe next.

On the bright side, we had tons of leftover pork. Tartine recommended making Vietnamese sandwiches aka bánh mì. And so I did.

Bánh Mì Sandwiches (adapted from Tartine Bread)

(serves 4)

Pickled Vegetables

Mix vinegar, water, sugar and salt. Stir until sugar and salt dissolve. Slice 2-4 radishes into very thin rounds. Halve red onion and slice thin. Peel 2-3 carrots and chop into matchsticks. Place vegetables in vinegar mixture and soak at least 30 minutes.

Herb Mayo

Combine all ingredients and blend with a food processor, blender, or hand blender.

Garlic-Lime-Fish Sauce

Whisk everything together in a small bowl. Simple!

I found this postcard in an antique store last year when I was hunting for wedding decor. I bought it thinking it would be . . . quirky? Not surprisingly, it didn’t make the final cut.

A year later, I still find it completely mystifying. Fargo and its sister city Moorhead, Minnesota, are fine towns, but they have no special relationship with kittens.

I’ve been in full-on nesting mode ever since I got married. That means tons of small upgrades to our apartment. This deer head hook is a recent addition. I only ordered it because I wanted to get free shipping on a shower curtain (I’m a SUCKER for free shipping), but I’m so glad I did. I love the little guy. Initially I thought he should go in the entry to hold my keys. But he seemed more at home in the bedroom, so he became Soren’s hoodie hook. Yes, my husband still wears hoodies. 

Here’s another shot so you can see him (and the hoodie) in his natural habitat.

The photo hanging above the dresser, a gift from Soren’s parents, is a new addition too. Those are the Montana mountains where we got married. If you could zoom in, you would see the barn where we tied the knot. (Please ignore the wall color. I know. It’s terrible. Like yellow teeth. Like smoker’s lungs. Like baby vomit. Ok, maybe not that bad.)

We also replaced our couch. Because we’re adults now. And we can do things like that. We had been using a couch Soren’s parents bought when Soren was just a tiny tot. Despite being decades old, it wasn’t in bad shape. But I didn’t love the color or style. Also, the seat was too deep for my (apparently freakishly short) legs.

Soren was kind of heartbroken about losing his childhood couch, but he manned up and went shopping for a new couch with me anyway. Turns out couch shopping is kind of fun, even for someone who hates shopping. All he had to do was sit down on comfortable surfaces over and over again. After much indecision (on my part), we finally settled on this dark gray beast.

The before shot was taken in 2009, right after we moved in. As you can see, a lot has changed. We bought a rug. The before lamp immigrated to the dining room and picked up a new shade. The yellow lamp came out of the closet. We bought an end table. The Ikea media stands are gone. So is the old coffee table. The fake wood blinds, however, are still there. Sigh. They came with the apartment. What are we going to do about those horrid blinds? Suggestions welcome.

I gave the bathroom a tiny facelift too. For years, I’ve been living with a palm tree shower curtain. Once upon a time I loved it. But with time that love faded into something more like apathy. Then tragedy struck. I accidentally (ok, kind of on purpose) bleached it.

The palm trees, which had been normal shades of brown and green, turned orange. At first, I thought it looked pretty hot. “It’s retro,” I told myself. But my initial glee quickly turned to loathing. Orange palm trees, ugh! So I ordered a new one. Much, much better. Awful rental toilet not included.

Then, because I’m rarely satisfied, I decided our coat rack needed an upgrade. I stained the plain, unfinished pine a dark ebony and gave it a coat of polyurethane. And I also painted the entryway a light gray — Behr’s Subtle Touch.

Next I’ll give our living room a Subtle Touch makeover. And then I’ll reupholster that green platform rocker. Our apartment is — slowly but surely — getting cuter.

For years, I’ve been circling pizza perfection. I’ve tried more crust and sauce recipes than I can count. Two years ago, Soren accidentally mangled an unbaked pizza trying to get it off the peel and onto the pizza stone. What had been a thing of beauty ended up half upside down, cheese sizzling on the searing hot stone. Maybe there’s no crying over spilled milk. But spilled pizza? You’re goddamn right I cried. I cried my face off. I’m kind of emotional like that. The incident became known as the Pizza Fiasco of 2010.

I still haven’t achieved perfection, but these days I’m much, much closer.

I forgot to take a picture of the interior of the crust, so this here is a cold pizza shot. Not as appealing

A few weeks ago, I taped an episode of America’s Test Kitchen because Christopher Kimball planned to visit my neighborhood pizza joint – DiFara. Dom DeMarco, the owner, makes some of the best pizza in New York. I was hoping Kimball would get him to spill his secrets. That didn’t happen, but Kimball did offer us a simple crust recipe that you can make in a food processor. He pronounced the finished product delicious.

I was skeptical from the get-go. The recipe spurns sourdough starter in favor of regular old yeast, and it breaks a lot of perfect Neapolitan pizza crust rules — mainly, thou shalt not use sugar or oil. But I decided to give it a try anyway.

This crust isn’t the perfection I’m seeking, but it’s a winner because it’s so simple, perfect for people just getting into the pizza scene. Especially perfect if you have a food processor with a dough blade.

The Crust

High doughy sides because I didn't stretch this dough thin enough.

Rather than outlining the whole process here, I’ll just give you the link to the recipe. I followed the crust recipe exactly, and I let my dough rest in the fridge two days. Soren pronounced this crust nicely crisp, but perhaps not as chewy and flavorful as some of its predecessors.

One quick tip: Make sure you stretch the dough out to a full 13-inch round. If you don’t, you will get really high, doughy edges. I speak from experience.

The Sauce

The Kimball no-cook sauce recipe has good flavor, but it suffers from one major defect: it’s too watery. If you follow this recipe, I would advise breaking up the tomatoes with your fingers and then draining them. That way you get all the liquid out of the middle of the tomatoes too. Thicker sauce = better pizza.

The Toppings

Soren and I have stumbled on at least two killer combos:

1. spicy sausage (we get ours from these guys), hot pickled peppers, thinly sliced red onion.

2. proscuitto, pineapple, hot pickled peppers

Apply these toppings very sparingly, and make sure you’ve drained the wet ones well. You want to avoid adding extra moisture to the top of the pizza. We also sometimes add goat cheese or feta to the mozz/parm combo we use for most pizzas. Also, I added less cheese than the Kimball recipe suggests. But that’s a personal preference. Let your tastebuds be your guide.

Fresh basil goes on last.

The Pizza Stone

Kimball offers this intriguing tip: Rather than putting the pizza stone on the floor of the oven, as many people suggest, he places it on the top rack. That helps the top of the pizza cook as fast as the bottom, he claims. And the technique seems to work. But I didn’t get the nice spots of char I usually get when I bake pizza on the oven floor.

Baking Time

Bake the pizza until you think it’s almost overdone. The cheese should be browned, not just melted. That will help ensure that the dough is cooked through.

A couple of months ago, I got really excited about an old hanging lamp I found on Ebay. I had been looking for something to replace the ceiling lamp we had hung above our television, and this seemed like just the thing — a nubby, yellowish-pinkish glass globe suspended by an ornate cast metal holder and a long chain. The cord, I knew, would have to be replaced, but I figured that would be easy. I hemmed and hawed, and finally bid and won.

The lamp arrived exactly as described, except for one major detail. The metal holder was broken. One of the set screws that keeps the globe in the holder had ripped clean through the metal. So the lamp was pretty much useless.  The only salvageable piece was the glass globe. I was heartbroken.

But several frantic googling sessions later, I learned I could order a new holder. I had planned to replace the cord anyway, so why not replace the holder and the cord and the lamp’s guts? You know what else they sell online? Glass globes. So you could totally buy everything you need online to make a lamp almost exactly like this from scratch. I ordered my parts from MyLampParts.com.

Here’s what you need:

This amazing image came on the back of the swag kit I ordered.

The instructions above are decent, but I’ll share a few extra tips. When you go to wire the lamp, you’ll need to shape the exposed wire at the end of the cord into two little hooks. Hook your wires onto the terminals, which look like two little screws, by loosening the screws and wiggling the wire hooks around the base of the screws. If one of the wires on your cord has writing and ridges, that one should go on the silver terminal. Then tighten the screws so that the bare wire is squished underneath the screw heads. If that was confusing (and it probably was), see this (very thorough) tutorial.

Now that I see the two lamps hanging side by side, I don’t really know why I hated the old lamp so much. They’re kind of equally good. Or maybe the old one is a little better, at least in the photo. But I think the new one looks better when it’s turned off.

Our walls are currently a color I like to call “Chainsmoker.” Soon they will be light gray. I’m hoping that will offset some of the warm, warm wood in this room. I also plan to wrangle the cords on either side of the TV into some sort of order. Ugh, cords. The bane of my existence.

Soren and I spent last weekend in Baltimore, aka The City that Reads, The City that Breeds, and The Greatest City in America. (It’s also the city where we first fell in love.) I’m here to bestow a new moniker on Baltimore: The City that Houses the World’s Best Hot Dog. I kid you not, this hot dog will blow your mind.

Here’s how you make a normal hot dog. First, grab a pasty white bun, slit it in half. Then, slip in some inferior pale pink meat tube made from pig ears and chicken lips. One line of ketchup, one line of yellow mustard, and you’re done! Here’s how you make the best hot dog ever.

First, grab a thick hoagie roll. Shove it end first on hot metal pick to make a toasty, hot dog-sized hole. Fill the hole with tomato and onion jam, bacon and onion marmalade, dijon mustard, and a 1/4 pound black angus hot dog. What do you get? A salty, slightly sweet, meaty delicious dog also known as the HD Signature. And a bargain — the HD is only $5.

Haute Dog, the food cart responsible for the HD Signature, makes a lot of other dogs, wursts, and sausages too. Unfortunately, I will never know how they taste. Because I refuse to order anything else. What can I say? I’m loyal to a fault.

So what are you waiting for? Get your ass to Baltimore. Grab a Haute Dog and a 6-pack of Natty Boh, and have yourself an old fashioned Balm’er picnic, hon. In fact, I’ll join you.

To create this fabulous Dog Dopp kit, I followed these instructions from the Purl Bee blog.

I didn’t have quite enough material, so my kit is a little smaller than Purl’s. Also, I got kind of lazy. So I skipped adding the bias tape you’re supposed to use to cover the seams inside the kit. Instead I clipped the seams with pinking shears.

I like the dogs, but it might work better to use a pattern that doesn’t care which way it gets turned. The kit is made from just one piece of fabric, which means that some of the dogs are upside down when the kit is right-side up.

And here are the dogs that inspired this Dopp kit — the loves of my dad’s life — Jack and Pearl.

Our adorable hotel: The Sugarapple Inn

Friendship Bay – a five minute walk from our hotel.

One day we took a cruise to the Tobago Cays, a marine park where they filmed parts of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Another day we visited the Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary, where they raise Hawksbill turtles.

Spring Bay

Sunset and beyond in Admiralty Bay.

That’s right. I rocked a romper.

And I kicked Soren’s ass in Scrabble.

We did not eat at Pizza Hut.

Or Pam & Tony’s.

But we did drink intoxicated liquor.

A wonderful time was had by all!