Heirloom Potato Salad with Vegenaise®

A super easy potato salad with tasty heirloom spuds. Vegan and egg-free.

I snatched up a bag of those cute little potatoes at the market yesterday. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those baby sized spuds as cute as a button. In Easter egg colors like custard and purple and pink. So sweet and adorable you want to cradle the bag and speak in your talking-to-kittens voice. Heirloom root vegetable deliciousness. Yeah, you shell out a little extra cabbage for these pretty babies, true. But I say, live a little.

Indulge in excellent ingredients.

You only got one life. 

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Sweet Potato Salad

Potato salad with no mayo- and sweet potatoes!

 A recipe winner from the archives you may have missed. Because I haven't been cooking. I've been packing. We're moving from our Santa Monica apartment to a sweet place in West Hollywood. Like, tomorrow. If it seems as if we live gypsy lives, it's true. We do (if packing up and moving six times in fourteen months counts). We're signing a lease today. Ostensibly for a year. I hope to settle in fast and start whipping up gluten-free recipes in the new kitchen- which is, I'm happy to report, new as in brand new. New everything. Hence, a gluten-free stove. Fridge. Dishwasher. The landlord remodeled, bless her generous heart. I'll post pics as soon as the dust settles. xox Karina PS: And yes, there's a window over the kitchen sink.

This is a colorful and lower carb potato salad recipe, a welcome change from the ordinary white spud con mayo and boiled egg offerings so ubiquitous at backyard get-togethers. Why? Beyond the no Hellman's and huevos part, it features sweet potatoes, Dude. Sweet potatoes.

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Watermelon Gazpacho with Lime

Refreshing watermelon gazpacho. Serve cold, cold, cold.

Happy August. The Dog Days of Summer are upon us. The Back To School Sales have commenced. Evenings are shorter, sultry and sticky and it's too damn hot to cook. Here in our sweet little Santa Monica sublet the modest act of baking two potatoes nudges our ambient temperature to a hot flash inducing tie-dyed t-shirt peeling UGG tossing fever pitch. I pace and prowl for air like the downstairs yellow cat who slinks into our kitchen unnoticed despite his thunderous girth. I stick my sweaty matted head out the kitchen door inhaling the hope of an onshore breeze.

My restless, itchy body you see is trying to ignore the calendar.

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