About the Author

Meredith Phillips lives in a breezy, rambling, porch-intensive house in the Hudson Valley with a cyprus tree, 5 birches, two Japanese maples, a maple without a modifier, and a fig tree.

Those are not her family, those are the trees in the yard.

While I am establishing the setting, I’ll also say that there are also lots of stumps which are either too heavy or too pricey to remove, and way more dandelions than I would have imagined possible.

I think of this place as imperfect perfection.

Which is a good transition to the characters: the kids are 6 and 9, blond and brunette, introvert and extrovert, curly and straight, really good at the marshmallow test and  . . . wait, are there any more?

Their father figure impresses us all by working full time for public radio—which is what I would have requested from central casting, had I thought of it—when he is not taking out the trash, passing out daddy hugs, or finishing his book.

But the dog is what I’m really here to brag about, you’ll see. He cuts a gentlemanly figure but don’t let looks fool you.

And I’m just here trying to appreciate our details and parse it all.

Onwards!

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I’m the one without owl pajamas.

Brooklynite Meredith Phillips writes long blog posts and small books. She teaches and offers editorial consulting services. She stewards the lives of a small spirited child, Henry, and a large ornery cat, Kitty. Her husband, Matthew, proves time and again that he is not stewardable.

Hmm, let’s switch to first person.

I could not care less about lunch—lunch makes me somewhat angry, in truth—but I attempt lots of delicious, dilettantish gourmand dinners, with a greater focus on ease and cultural history than on prudery or perfection.

This isn’t entirely a cooking blog, though. For a while, when the only things getting eaten around here were Mentos, out of which I built my first baby’s skull, it was a pregnancy blog.

Now there are two babies, and there are elements of family and parenting on the blog.

It has also been a platform to try to raise awareness about ALS, or at least a place to try to work through thoughts and feelings about my sister’s battle with the disease.

If you like (or take violent exception to!) something you read here, please leave a comment! If you woud like to contact me about taking a writing class or other editorial services, email me at churchchomp [at] gmail [dot] com.