I ate a bowl of leftover cheese crackers for breakfast. I didn’t feel like making food for myself when the kids ate in the morning, but then when 10am rolled around, I couldn’t help but forage for snack leftovers. Then my kids barely touched their lunch, so their cold quesadillas would be mine. No matter. I like their kid food, to be honest, and I don’t want anything to go to waste. But by dinnertime, I’m ready for something a bit more grown up.

I tend to overcomplicate things. While researching a recipe using bread I thought, “Well, why not just make the bread myself?” That’s all fine and good. Things with homemade bread taste better. But while I daydreamed about the smell of dough in the oven, a pile of laundry sat in my bedroom, dishes from two meals ago filled my sink, I had yet to shower, and I watched my one-year-old running by with a diaper about to explode. I don’t have time for homemade bread—but I bookmarked the recipe for another day. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week. Or when my kids drive off to college. For now, I need to simplify.

Figs. For some reason, I have been obsessed with them in the last few weeks. I snagged a package at Trader Joe's not long ago, and now all I can think of are fig recipes. I've enjoyed them roasted with a spoonful of mascarpone, with yogurt in the morning and on top of cornbread. You may even see a fig-based cocktail coming to the blog soon. Yup, obsessed.