SEE THAT GUY at the Thanksgiving table, the one with his back toward you, with the beard and the silvering hair? Smart, handsome, successful; he had only one obvious flaw: He hated brussels sprouts. [click to continue…]
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From the category archives:
Sisters in the Kitchen
ROOTS ARE NOT the prettiest. There’s the evidence, right there. Lumpy, bumpy, gritty with earth, they need finesse to reveal their true nature which is, inevitably, sweet, rich, complex. They’re perfect for this time of year, and for the holiday feasts to come. [click to continue…]
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MY FAMILY LOVES pears. Apples, it seems, my kids can take or leave. Me, I’m a sucker for an amazing Arkansas Black or Empire or even, in a pinch, a Granny Smith. But my kids will go for the Boscs and Anjous every time. To accommodate their fruit eccentricities, I often bake with pears (or with a pear and apple combination.) [click to continue…]
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BACK IN MY urban days, even after I had kids, Halloween was really an excuse for a bunch of adult friends to get together. We’d costume up our toddlers, sure. We let them walk around one block, before dark, collecting whatever candy they could from whichever adults happened to be home early from work, and then: We fed them mac ‘n cheese while we feasted. [click to continue…]
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THOUGH I AM happy as a clam, or, more aptly, I suppose, a cow, in the rural world I now call home, somehow, my culinary self remains under the gravitational pull of Los Angeles. [click to continue…]
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