Bake with abandon!
Marriage often requires compromise. After almost 10 years, Andrew and I have sorted out the domestic chores, bill payments, and even litter box duties. Yet despite impressive and extended negotiations, we remain deadlocked on certain foods. Andrew loves anything bacon and groans at almost anything …
I’ve created a monster. Or half a dozen monsters to be precise. Seems I’ve become the unofficial pastry chef for potlucks. In the past month alone I’ve made three fruit galettes, two rounds of pavlova, a gigantic chocolate-orange torte, a double batch of ginger cookies, …
To observe my mother eating radishes is to understand that over-used phrase “living in the moment.” They are not munched like baby carrots or popped into her mouth like grapes. They are consumed with quiet, focused deliberation. To begin, she sets a small bowl …
Wanting to redeem myself from the monumental failure of my salted caramel candy apples — which devolved into sliced apples and a dip — I accepted the task of creating an avocado recipe for MissAvaCado‘s Cinco de Mayo Blogger Challenge. The results have me wondering …
I was going to make you guess what’s in the photo above, but the post’s headline gives it away. Darn you, Google, and your search engine demands. If you hover your cursor over the image, you will know, these golden fritters are potato latkes. I made …
[box type=”info” style=”rounded” border=”full”] Update: Sorry. The contest is closed. However, the fennel salad recipe remains open to anyone willing to give it a try. [/box] As one of the world’s most gullible people, I hate April Fool’s Day. Apparently watching me scramble for the binoculars …
You know you’re getting old when St. Patrick’s Day arrives and instead of wondering where you put your green belt and shamrock earrings, you make a mental note not to drive anywhere after 6 PM and place bets on how many drunks are going to …
It’s not unusual for me to get excited over a cookbook. But every once in a while one resonates with me on so many levels that I just want to curl up on the couch, cradle it in my arms and stroke its pages. And …
