Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

I am now fully into making yogurt out of soy milk. There are three to five reasons for this which I will make up right now: Store-bought non-dairy yogurt is super pricey. I prefer to spend my money on Dona chai turmeric latte supplies that come in totes adorbs bottles that look like tinctures from the days of yore. I love stepping away from my desk for a moment to transform myself into some sort of herbalist shaman centrifuging a potion on the rotating glass plate inside the office microwave. Store-bought non-dairy yogurt has all these weird gums and gellans in it and comes in plastic one-use containers which I dislike for all the same reasons some people wear organic bamboo shmatas and eat tiny scraps torn from Mother Jones magazine. Fresh Direct sent me 4 quarts of soy milk that expire in two weeks. I over-ordered to stock up and then noticed the tragic flaw in this plan. As with all my endeavors, this dream of yogurt also required a lot of online research, mostly on Amaz

It’s a thing, you know. These days, when you look up a recipe on the interwebs, you don’t just get a straight up recipe with just the facts ma’am tablespoons and cooking temperatures.  Now the recipe is like the climax after paragraphs about grandmothers and prairies. There is talk about heading out to a well-tended garden on rainy days. After sniffing the fragrance of a good simple life, the recipe author will gracefully kneel to clip perky stalks of nostalgic vegetables sprouted from the pink hearts of homemade whole grain bread baked with love in shiny retro appliances covered with artfully arranged Hello Kitty stickers. Also there are a lot of ads for Pottery Barn for Kids and photos that make you want to paint your kitchen butter yellow and make yourself an apron out of gingham. Rhubarb dessert I love moss-covered table decorations as much as the next gal, and so I became inspired. May I present to you my first, and probably last, Recipe Novella: I went out in