by marionroach on February 10, 2010
WHERE I COME FROM, the word “salad” means lettuce. Perhaps that lettuce will be accompanied by onions, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, crumbled cheese, or all of the above, but lettuce—and I believe I speak for all my homepeople when I say this—would be the foundation of all things “salad.” And, being a New Yorker, I went along thinking my way was the highway until fate stepped in and threw a man in my path some 21 years ago who, when he said “salad,” was speaking a different tongue. So we got married, and mixed things up. [click to continue…]
by marionroach on February 2, 2010
MUCH LIKE A PARTY at my house, the party in my mouth only goes well when some forethought is given to who sits next to whom. Chocolate and peanut butter? Hate ‘em as a couple; love ‘em alone, which is the same damn thing I frequently hear myself say about many of my friends.
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by marionroach on December 10, 2009
TWO-HUNDRED CHEESEBALLS. Not a phrase—or dish—to throw around lightly. But that’s what I made for our annual celebration of Emily Dickinson’s birthday, which is December 10. Not a big birthday this year, so I limited myself somewhat in the celebration, making the light fare myself so I can rest up for the huge blowout planned for Emily’s 180th in 2010. Once there was a time when my husband and I were a little torn as to which holiday to celebrate, and how. Long story, lots of history, but years ago, after being married only a short time, we compromised on one totemic holiday to appreciate: Emily’s birthday, and most years we have a party.
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by marionroach on November 12, 2009
IT’S BEEN A TOUGH YEAR for John, our beloved friend, and subject (as well as object) of our series, Teaching John to Cook. But a year it has been since his wonderful partner died, and since all of you, in response, took on the loving assignment of teaching him to cook. And look! Here comes Thanksgiving, that high holy day of recipes, and we’re asking you for some for a man on his own to bring to the table. [click to continue…]
by marionroach on October 13, 2009
TWO SISTERS PLUS ONE BOOK equals two soups. This is the sisterly cooking math we did when our friend and uber-agent Kris Dahl sent us both a new book, and two households went on a pretty much liquid diet. But oh, what liquid! [click to continue…]
by marionroach on September 23, 2009
SIX POUNDS DOWN. Blood pressure lowest of my adult life. Decaffeinated. Old jeans sitting on my hips. Dress that didn’t fit does. Drinking green tea. Sleeping through the night. Only one question remains: Who the hell is this woman?
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by marionroach on September 21, 2009
In 1960, older Margaret's on the light end of the seesaw at age 6.
IF A POUND IS GAINED in the forest, and no one is there to see it, is it still a pound? This is the exact kind of question I’ve pelted my poor sister with over the years that I’ve seen my weight go up and hers go down; her side of the seesaw is ever higher up in the air. And trust me, there were more annoying exchanges, like these: [click to continue…]
by marionroach on September 1, 2009
WHEN IN DOUBT, DESSERT. It might be my new motto. It would make a good t-shirt, wouldn’t it? Hmmm. Anyway, it certainly is a motto I’m using for John, of Teaching John to Cook, my friend, and subject of an occasional series here on TSP on how to sister a pal into the kitchen.
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by marionroach on July 10, 2009
IT’S TIME YOU MET JOHN, of Teaching John to Cook (the lovely man and dear friend of the Facebook self-portrait, above), to whom so many of you have reached out during his difficult time. I’m happy to report he’s doing marvelously well at it, and that he has mastered a new recipe. It’s one you may enjoy, as well. [click to continue…]
by marionroach on July 1, 2009
I KNEW I COULD MARRY the man when I discovered that his mother didn’t put eggs in her potato salad. I hate eggs in nearly every form, but never so much when they appear where they clearly have no business. Seeing that my then-boyfriend expected no such thing as eggs in his summer salad, I was ready to take the relationship to the next level. We’ll be married 20 years later this month and God knows, marriages have been based on less. [click to continue…]
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