French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream [plus an essay about being seen and an invite to the C+C Mother's Day Brunch!]

French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast

We slide into the diner booth, scooting along the faux leather benches as our server hands us an impossibly large menu. My husband sits next to me and my dad in the seat across from us. Going to a place like this reminds me of my childhood. I grew up in New Jersey where diners are about as common as Starbucks in the Chicago suburbs. There's one on every corner, each with giant, plastic-covered menus showcasing all kinds of omelettes, skillets, French toast, crepes, sandwiches, and anything else you could possibly think to eat for breakfast or lunch.

I scan the menu as we catch up about my husband’s job and my dad’s new house. I try to keep the conversation light, but my heart feels heavy—maybe even a little guilty. Having my dad and stepmom in town is a gift, but over the last week I’ve been so weary that I feel like I’ve missed out on being with them. I take another sip of my coffee and internally lament the fact that my stepmom had to stay home with my kids just so I could have a few minutes of uninterrupted conversation with my dad.

Our plates arrive, and we drizzle on syrup and request refills of coffee. My dad looks at me and asks the question I hoped to avoid. “How are you doing? Really?”

It’s the “really” that gets me. The addition of that little word tells me I can’t get away with a scripted answer. My emotions sit too close to the surface, and any effort to hide them proves futile.

Keep reading and get the recipe at Coffee + Crumbs.

French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast
French Toast with Cherry Compote + Vanilla Bean Whipped Cream #breakfast #brunch #frenchtoast

Read the full essay and get the recipe at Coffee + Crumbs.


It's Friday! How about we have a giveaway?

Happy Friday! After what felt like an eternal winter, I think we’re over the worst of the colds and sickness in our family. The weather has turned a bit warmer, my kids ran around outside most of the morning, and we’ve got a few more hours of daylight. I have been not-so-patiently waiting for this season. It always amazes me how much easier parenting can feel when the weather is good and kiddos stay healthy!

As the week comes to an end and the season changes, I thought it’d be a great time for a giveaway! Since I write about food, faith, creativity, and motherhood, I wanted to include items from each of those four categories in the prize bundle. So, we’ve got music, beautifully designed greeting cards, coffee and tea, and all kinds of books! I’ve provided links to all the authors, creators, artists, and food professionals in the giveaway description below, so make sure to check each of them out!

Click the button below to read more about the prize items, and then enter with your email address. Make sure to share with friends and family to earn bonus entries. Thanks to FreshGround Roasting and Phoenix Feathers Calligraphy, you’ll also get a little something special in your inbox just for entering.

The giveaway will close on Friday, April 12, so don’t wait too long!

P.S. I’ll be sharing more in depth info about a few of these items over on Instagram, so make sure to follow me there!


Products for this giveaway were provided to Sarah J. Hauser by the artists, authors, publishers, creators, and food professionals. All opinions are 100% my own, and I only promote products I truly love.

Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions [and fighting for connection]

Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser

Sitting in my bed, I attempt to hide and drown out the noise downstairs with the rhythmic hum of my breast pump. I can still hear the baby crying and my toddler son whining. His twin sister yells at the top of her lungs for no reason, except maybe to keep up with the decibel level of everyone else. I’ve been here longer than necessary, partly because pumping takes extra time. I worry my supply is dropping, maybe due to diet changes or stress or who knows what. My mind conjures up a thousand possibilities, all of which I feel the urgent need to research.

I stop my frantic Googling as I notice my heart pounding faster. Apparently escaping to a semi-quiet room only made my anxious thoughts louder. I try to sit still as I listen to the steady hum of the pump, praying those bottles will fill with a few more drops. I’m not ready to add the chaos from downstairs to the chaos I carry in my own body.

It’s mac and cheese for dinner tonight—the one from the box, not the good homemade stuff. I can hear my husband’s footsteps bound up and down the stairs as he manages whatever is going on. He’s working hard to give me peace and quiet, but the volume can only be helped so much—especially during the witching hour.

There’s no denying it’s hard to connect. It’s hard to have the time and space to look each other in the eyes and ask, “How was your day?” and then actually answer without LEGOs being thrown across the room or a not quite potty-trained toddler peeing on the floor. How can we connect when I can’t even be in the room with the rest of the family?

Before babies, we used to get home from work and sit at the table together. I’d cook a homemade meal nearly every night. We’d talk over pasta and salad, garlic bread and a glass of wine. Now, even the most gracious attempts to talk more deeply or resolve conflict seem impossible. My husband’s words get caught in the tornado of emotions and information swirling in my mind, and I can’t seem to calm the storm. Some days that storm rages only in my head and heart; other times everyone else gets swept by its gale force winds. Feeling connected—feeling as though we’re on the same page, moving in the same direction, on the same team some days appears to be an exercise in futility. How do you connect with each other in the midst of a messy house, postpartum anxiety, sleep deprivation, carrying the burden of parenting, mom guilt, kids’ schedules, and the fact that if one more set of hands touches me, I may completely lose it?

Keep reading and get the recipe at Coffee + Crumbs.

Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser
Marinated Skirt Steak with Pineapple + Green Onions | Sarah J. Hauser


Autumn Chowder [and remembering at the table]

Autumn Chowder - Sarah J. Hauser

It’s a Wednesday night. We’re on the homestretch after a day filled with toddler laughs and toys strewn on the floor, naptime snuggles and pleas to share. I pull out the giant soup pot I inherited from my mom. That pot has seen gallons of homemade spaghetti sauce, wild rice soup, and our perpetual favorite, Autumn Chowder. I place it on the stove, turn on the heat, and start frying chopped bacon and sauteing an onion. The potatoes, carrots, and corn get dumped in next, followed by broth, milk, and loads of cheese. It’s hearty, rich, and full of the flavors of fall—quintessential comfort food.

I think of my mom while I stir, and soon I’m back in her kitchen. The fan above her stove hums, and the smell of bacon wafts through the house. She wears a stained apron and holds a wooden spoon in her hand. She stirs up magic in that pot. Dishes cover the kitchen island, alongside the skins of onions and trimmings from carrots. Our excitement grows as dinnertime nears. The “First Making of Autumn Chowder” felt like a special occasion, despite usually occurring on an average weeknight amidst soccer practice and algebra homework. We set bowls and soup spoons on the table—the table always adorned with one of my mom’s seasonal tablecloths—and shuffle to fold napkins, fill glasses, and find our seats.

I pull myself out of the memory and back into my own kitchen. Dirty dishes balance in a precarious stack next to the sink, and the squeals of three kids fill our ears. Our table sits bare. I rarely use a tablecloth, and attempting to set out dishes and utensils in advance seems useless with a one-year-old who constantly climbs on said table. But my stovetop fan hums a familiar tune, and the savory aroma of onions and bacon smells like memories that make me tear up—although I blame it on the pesky alliums.

It’s been five years since she died, and I notice her absence most when I’m cooking. Yet somehow it feels like the act of chopping vegetables and melting cheese keeps her alive.

Keep reading and get the recipe at Coffee + Crumbs.

Autumn Chowder - Sarah J. Hauser
Autumn Chowder - Sarah J. Hauser
Autumn Chowder - Sarah J. Hauser
Autumn Chowder - Sarah J. Hauser
Autumn Chowder - Sarah J. Hauser

Read the full essay and get the recipe at Coffee + Crumbs.