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Last night I roasted a bird, baked a loaf of Fancy Jim Lahey’s no-knead bread, and experimented with Ina’s brownie pudding which, I am sorry to report, was so chocolatey as to be almost disgusto. And I mean, this is coming from a girl who really likes her sweets.  The boys ate it up, but when it comes to spoonable chocolate desserts I think next time I’ll stick with Jaqi’s bread pudding, which is a perpetual favorite around these parts and doesn’t taste like a giant bowl full of ever-so-slightly-gritty batter.

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Tom: “I really don’t understand your John Mayer thing. Your Adam Levine thing, I get. But John Mayer is gangly and weird-looking.”

Katie: “You get my Adam Levine thing?”

Tom (shrugging): “Adam Levine is a handsome man.”

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Comfort Me with Apples: dishy and delicious. Take the Cannoli: boring as crap. Secrets of Eden: pleasantly plotty but ultimately strange and unsettling. Me and Orson Welles: so stupid not even Zefron in a wet t-shirt and 1930s suspenders could save it, though Sierra and I did enjoy shouting “Sonja is my LOVER!” over and over all the livelong day. Parenthood: always effing charming (question: were you a Hattie or an Amber in high school? I was a Hattie, obviously, but I think Amber is just so rad). The Good Wife: OH LORD SERIOUSLY, why are you not watching this kickass show, I love so much about the things that it chooses to be.

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In Williams-Sonoma I saw a whole book about all the things you can cook using only your toaster oven. I thought that was just the oddest thing.

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Text from my aunt from a hotel in Ft. Lauderdale, FL: “The Steelers are staying in this hotel. Rode in the elevator with 6 of them who were wearing their uniform tee shirts. I asked them where they were from? One of them said “Pittsburgh.” I asked them what’s going on and they said, “We’re playing the Dolphins.”

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Tonight we’re carving a pumpkin and watching Rosemary’s Baby, which is something my parents used to do every Halloween. It feels weirdly important that I do it, too.