I love living in California. We pay too much to live here, teeter on the brink of earthquakes and state budget emergencies, and wholeheartedly embrace political correctness as a lifestyle. Not that
you could tell what we embrace, on account on those botoxed foreheads
and stuff. And this is just Southern California; don’t even get me
started on my Northern California Relatives.
In fact, while in Santa Monica last week I encounted no fewer than three-hundred-and-forty-seven placards letting me know that I could park only on the street between the hours of 8 to 1, that I couldn’t park there because my car used gasoline, no, wait, that the spot was actually reserved for visually-impaired drivers, or that the parking meter I did actually find didn’t take money but some kind of space-aged FOB made out of recycled water bottles and–my favorite– to be quiet or not to honk or block the intersection or use peanut oil out of respect for those with allergies.
These are more like a cake than a muffin. Light, not at all dense and the perfect balance of sweet and savory (I added a touch of balsamic). These would be a delicious addition to any brunch menu or they could really just stand on their own.
Weeknight dinners can be daunting if you are working all day or chasing kids around after school. We have been in the middle of basketball season, which means, three nights a week it is chaos at dinnertime. Mostly because the kids are starving by the time they get home. 
I always take inspiration from the restaurants where I dine. It's
fascinating to see what chefs create especially when it comes to
dessert. Last summer I had the opportunity of visiting a number of D.C.
Restaurants thanks to 
This site is Foodie Porn!