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Hannah Agran

As Food and Features Editor at Midwest Living, Hannah comes to work and spends her days thinking and dreaming about food--and then she goes home to her family and does pretty much the same thing!

Posts by Hannah Agran

I grew up decorating sugar cookies in, shall we say, the classic way. We mixed various colors of buttercream frosting, spread it generously on the...
This year, my friend Natalie ambitiously dug up half her yard to install raised beds. Back yard. Front yard. Side yard. The woman went veggie-mad. At...
So, I had a giant can of pumpkin. Really giant. At 29 ounces, it was large enough, the label helpfully explained, to make two pies. I'm...
A few months ago, I read about a primo balsamic vinegar produced in Nebraska. Of course, I know you can find artisanal or craft anything being brewed...
Finally, finally, this late-blooming summer has opened up and given us a couple lovely warm weeks to nudge the garden along. My marigolds have...
At many museums, when you pay for admission, you receive headphones to hear a narrated tour. At the Rhythm! Discovery Center in Indianapolis, the...
This month, my book club’s pick was The Fault in Our Stars, the staggeringly popular young adult novel (and now film) about a pair of teens...
Two nights ago, Old Mother Hubbard here went to her cupboard to fetch not a bone, but something—anything—to make a dessert for book club...
As we sat in the backyard the other night, my next-door neighbor expressed surprise that I grow fresh herbs. I met her skepticism with incredulity of...
In our May/June 2014 issue (available on newsstands now), we share dozens of ways to use that humble grocery store standby, the deli-roasted...
Forgive me, but I am going to boast for a minute: I have not purchased bread in more than a month. No, we haven’t gone gluten-free. I’ve...
On Sunday here in Des Moines, we woke to snow ... again. A few sunny days in the 50s and 60s last week tricked me into thinking spring had arrived,...
It always happens this way. You're zooming along the interstate in a cornfield-induced haze, a visual playlist of silos, gas stations and Subway...
This morning I ate red pancakes for breakfast. Very red pancakes. My mixing bowls are red, my measuring cups are red, my utensils are red, and I...
Brushing away the fog of memory, I distinctly remember a phase in my childhood—older elementary school, I’d guess—when my best...

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