Blossom & Root

In our house, celebration tastes like cheesecake. It’s the dessert I bake for birthdays, anniversaries, and milestones. Over the years, it’s become our family tradition—one that feels both grounding and joyful. This week, Chris celebrated five years of sobriety . That’s a milestone worth the richest, most decadent dessert I could dream up. When I asked what he wanted, his request came without hesitation: peanut butter cheesecake with a sourdough discard brownie crust. Cheesecake takes patience. From the slow baking to the long chill, it’s a dessert that insists on being intentional. And maybe that’s why it’s the dessert I return to again and again when we have something big to mark. Each cheesecake carries a story, a memory, a reason to pause. This one, especially, will always remind me of strength, resilience, and the beauty of traditions you build yourself. 🍫 The Brownie Crust This cheesecake starts with my sourdough discard brownies—rich, fudgy, and deeply chocolatey. On...

🌱 When the Garden Doesn’t Go as Planned Not every season in the garden is picture-perfect. Sometimes, despite your best intentions, things just don’t work out. The weather shifts, timing gets away from you, or plants simply refuse to cooperate. This summer, my garden started later than I wanted. I leaned on hardware store starts instead of growing from seed, hoping to get a quick jump on the season. But what I ended up with was a lot of green leaves and almost no flowers — no vegetables, no harvest. Just frustration. It’s easy to feel defeated when your plants don’t thrive, but gardening is as much about adapting as it is about planting. Instead of giving up, I’ve decided to pivot. I’m doing one last push: starting a few summer crops from seed, even though the calendar says I’m late. Living in an area with a long growing season gives me a little wiggle room, and I’m holding onto hope that I can coax a small harvest out of the soil before the season ends. Gardening teaches resilien...

🌿 Homesteading as Heritage: Building a Life of My Own This morning after finishing my chores, I sat down and watched a reel a friend had shared. It was of Mexican dancers moving gracefully in front of a beautiful cathedral. While I recognized the beauty of what I was seeing, what I felt inside was sadness. Those dancers had a strong heritage to hold onto — something alive, communal, passed down and celebrated together. I’ve often wished for that. Being raised in a mixed-race family where little importance was placed on either culture, I’ve felt the absence of inherited traditions. And I know my parents carried that same distance from their own upbringing. I can understand the history, the reasons why, but I still wish the choices had been different. For a long time, that left me with the question: what do I belong to? Where do I root myself? The identity I lean into most right now is homesteader. And strangely, it feels like a calling. Being a beginner at it makes the connection f...

Finding Grace in the Kitchen on Low-Energy Days Being newly introduced to the neurodivergent world, I’ve been slowly learning how to build rhythms that actually work for me. Between cooking meals, planning a garden, managing the household, and helping out on the ranch—sometimes while dealing with a sick chicken, cat, or other animal—energy isn’t always a guarantee. Some days I can cook a full meal from scratch. Other days, it’s heat-and-go, or maybe nothing at all. And that’s okay. One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is this: it’s okay to have low-energy days, guilt-free. Rest is part of self-care, even if it means dinner isn’t perfect. Instead of pushing through exhaustion, I’ve started creating systems that support me when my executive function is running low. Having a few practical tricks in your back pocket makes all the difference. Here are two that have been especially helpful for me: 📅 Hack #1: Micro-Planning with My Calendar I rely on my phone calendar for more ...

  Rooted in the Life I’m Growing For me, rooted living is about finding joy in the small, ordinary tasks that stitch my days together. Every morning begins the same way. Around 5 a.m., I wake to the sound of my roosters calling out the day. Daisy, our ranch dog, usually makes her rounds — stopping by the bedroom window to bark once before trotting off like she’s simply clocking in for work. I feed the cats their dry food, then tend to the chickens and check on the garden. Once the animals are cared for, I come back inside and pick up the threads from the night before — cups, plates, socks, shoes, whatever my husband or I left behind when we drifted to bed. I start a load of dishes, sweep the floor, and give the house a quiet morning reset. The Kitchen and the Garden: Two Sides of the Same Root Being both a chef and a gardener means the two roles constantly feed each other. Chefs create art using the best ingredients they can find — and any chef worth their salt will tell you that g...

A Flavor Blend with Roots Jump to Recipe ↓ This rub came together over time — part memory, part experimentation, and part instinct. It’s smoky, earthy, and just a little wild — a blend of ancestral flavors from both my Otomi and English roots, made for slow-roasted tri-tip but just as good on grilled veggies or roasted squash. It’s the kind of spice mix you make once, then keep in a jar on the counter because you’ll keep reaching for it. This rub is special to me — not because it’s fancy, but because it’s familiar. It reminds me of wood smoke, backyard dinners, and reclaiming flavors that feel like home even if they were never written down. If you try it, tag me @blossomandroot — I’d love to see what you make with it. ⬇ Save for later 🖨 Print Signature Heritage Spice Blend Yield: ~1/2 cup Prep: 10 min Total: 10 min Ingredients 2 tbsp ground ancho chile 1 tbsp smo...

Jump to Recipe ↓ Not every day in the kitchen needs to be a marathon. Some of the best meals come together in little pockets of time, with no pressure to do it all at once. I didn’t always feel this way. For years, cooking felt like a race I was always behind on—too many moving parts, too many dishes, too much pressure to be efficient or perfect. I wanted to love it, but I was often overwhelmed before I even turned on the stove. That changed when I started building a kitchen that worked with my brain, not against it. 🌿 Cooking on My Terms As an AuDHD person, I’ve learned that consistency isn’t the same as routine—and that energy is a shifting resource. In my kitchen, I don’t rely on rigid meal plans or spotless prep. I rely on systems that are visible, gentle, and adaptable. Some things that help me: Tray prep: Dry ingredients on a baking sheet, cold items on a tray—out of sight = out of mind, so I keep them visible. Cook when I can, not when I “should”: ...

🪴 Welcome to My Garden There’s nothing perfect about my garden — and that’s exactly why I love it. I call it a “controlled chaos” garden: part intention, part improvisation, part miracle. Raised beds and grow bags sit alongside repurposed containers. Companion plants tangle together. Some things grow exactly where I want them to. Others... make surprise appearances. It’s not a Pinterest-perfect layout — it’s alive, responsive, seasonal, and real. This garden is my teacher, my therapy, and my tiny ecosystem. It’s where I compost my mistakes and plant again. It’s where I reconnect with my senses, slow down, and rediscover my place in something bigger than myself. 🌿 What’s Growing Right Now Right now I’m growing a mix of seasonal favorites and heritage staples: Tomatoes in all shapes — Sweet 100s, Mortgage Lifter, and San Marzanos Squash and cucumbers reaching for the trellis Peppers still going strong from overwintering in the greenhouse A few struggling seedlings, some ...

"Keep going, quiet work makes greatness." Hi there — I’m Kim, and I’m so glad you’re here. Blossom & Root is my little corner of the internet where cooking, gardening, heritage, and healing all come together. It started as a cookbook project, but quickly became something more: a space to explore the flavors and rhythms of a life lived slowly, seasonally, and a little differently. Here you’ll find: Recipes rooted in comfort and culture Garden wisdom learned the hands-on way Neurodivergent-friendly kitchen tips for low-energy days Reflections on identity, ancestry, and starting where you are I grew up with bits and pieces of tradition, but no formal heirloom recipes — so I’m writing my own. Blossom & Root is my way of reclaiming joy through food, sharing my journey as an AuDHD home cook and aspiring Master Gardener, and connecting with others who find magic in the messiness of homegrown living. If you’re someone who: Cooks with scraps, soul, and s...