Bake with abandon!
Ignore the calendar. Don’t point to the red and orange maple trees or their fallen leaves that smother the grass. Pumpkins hold no proof. No, Autumn doesn’t arrive with the weather, or gourds, or the solstice. It arrives with mice. Each year, the rodents that feast on …
First there was Lex Luther, The Joker and Mr X. Then came Dr. Horrible and his malevolent idol Bad Horse, The Thoroughbred of Sin. I’m fortunate to have never come across such terrifying evil doers. Some say I remain unscathed because I live a quiet …
Not everyone reads the comments section, so I thought I’d start a separate post to share the conversation I’ve been having with Barbara about chicken stock. Barbara has moved to a small apartment and is re-learning to make stock without $7 stewing hens and a …
Avgolemono soup might be hard to say but it’s incredibly simple to make. It’s so easy, you can make it when you’re sick and wobbly and barely able to stand without sneezing so hard you knock yourself over. I proved that the other day. Being …
It is not winter here inside my kitchen. The four inches of crystallized water piled up on the back porch is just an illusion created by the white curtains and the angle of the light. That sound isn’t howling wind. It’s a neighbour’s dog, Or …
This improv recipe is a testament to my impulse shopping, poor sense of timing and the power of the common cold. Impulse shopping: A few months ago, I found fresh Cornish hens at the butcher shop. As I stood at the meat counter waiting to …
When I was a child, my mother had a vegetable garden in the side yard. She grew runner beans and radishes, beets and Swiss chard. I remember neat rows of fancy-topped chives whose pungent smell drove me away, and giant bunches of rhubarb that whispered …
Andrew and I are mature, level-headed adults. We can easily discuss our budget, the laundry schedule, and who goes where at Easter. We listen to each other, see the other person’s point of view and devise workable action plans. We use terms like “action plan,” …
Three tries. It took me three kicks at the proverbial can (or pan, in this case), several hours and a couple of meltdowns to figured out how to make savory biscotti that A) didn’t taste like stuffing and B) didn’t fall apart like a cheap …