Feast: Spring Break edition

A nice couple from Minnesota took our picture at the Grand Canyon, which was beautiful and cold, btw. I was not allergic to the Grand Canyon. It was great.

Everyone who has spoken to me in the last week and a half knows that I am allergic to Arizona. I mean, the American Southwest seems to be the only place I feel the need to dose myself with as much Claritin and Benadryl as my doctors friends will allow me to safely consume. Everywhere else, I can ingest copious amounts of local pollen and I am still uncongested and clear-eyed. However, you put me in Arizona or Texas and I become a red-eyed, scratchy-throated grump with the voice of a froggy, yankee Benedict Cumberbatch. And, no, that is not a good thing. The absolute worst part is that I couldn't taste things properly. This was a Serious Bummer, given that I love TexMex and Mexican food. 

This was a double bummer, because I really wanted to cook a bunch of food for my friends, people I love to pieces, and I only really felt like cooking the last couple of days of our trip. I've known my friends for over a decade now(!) and I can't imagine life without them. They have seen me at my absolute worst (and let me just say, it can be pretty bad) and yet they're still around, cheering me on and laughing at my lame jokes. Thanks, kids.

If I were a Photoshop wizard, I'd put Alex in that blank space to my left. South Mountain was a really pretty spot overlooking Phoenix.

On St. Patrick's Day, the first full day we were all together.
Everyone wore a green shirt and we looked both amazing and ridiculous as a group.

I only have three recipes from this trip to report: summer rolls (with a cheater's peanut sauce), no-bake 15-minute chocolate mousse (with a crazy secret ingredient!), and buttermilk pancakes with cajeta. To make up for this, I'm posting some photos from my trip, thanks to Alex, my shutterbug friend. :-)

Chihuly pieces in the botanical gardens. They were very cool.

So many beautiful, blooming things. AAAAAAA-CHOOOOOOO.

Alison (above, right) and Alex (feet below, left) were the only ones who would climb onto rocks with me.
Everyone else sighed and scolded and got the vapors and prayed I wouldn't trip over my toes and end up
a permanent cautionary tale about foolhardy tourists and the Grand Canyon. Whatever. I'm a billy goat!

In Scottsdale, the first evening of the ArtWalk.

The Grandest of Canyons.