When you become a mom, you moan almost daily about the mess your kids make. Then they go to college and come back during holidays, leaving a mess, but are finally so grateful for your cooking, you totally forgive them. Then they move back after graduation, become your friend, resume the mess, wonder what to do, then tell you they’re moving to Seattle. Then they actually have the…
I love fall. If it’s autumnal bring it on. But not when it’s 95 degrees outside. The stores here have been filled with pumpkins and cinnamon brooms for over a month, like southern California is Canada. Who wants a pumpkin spice latte when you’re bathed in your own sweat? Our weather doesn’t have the decency to change until at least October, but last night I slept with an…
My father was always in the garden, even this time of year, picking the last of his beefsteak tomatoes, or digging around and pulling out the dead plants. He loved it. I remember shortly after my kids and I moved in with him after my divorce, I asked my daughter to go out to the garden to tell him dinner was ready. He was 95 at the time.…
I don’t know when my obsession with garbage started, but I remember wondering when I was very young, where all the garbage went and when it would start to take over the world. It appears to be taking over now, with plastic in the lead, and if we don’t start doing something about it, we’re all in big trouble. I’m actually trying to live without plastic wrap. This…
I am three weeks behind on my blogging, but forgive me. I had a birthday to celebrate and just kept thinking, I’ll cook when it cools off. But so far Saturday is looking like a chilly 86, so it’s going to be Costco chickens for a while. If we were meant to cook in summer: a. It wouldn’t be so stinking hot and, b. Rotisserie chickens would have…
I feel like I’m always torn between carbs and no carbs. I always thought oatmeal for breakfast was good for me, but now it’s like anything carby is the enemy. This is especially depressing for an Italian. But I’ll never be able to bring myself to think of pasta as the enemy. It’s my sweet friend, and we’ve gone through many a dark time – I won’t turn…
I wish I could go back to childhood to see how much time (and my faulty memory) have altered what I think I recall clearly. My Fourth of July memories revolve around picnics at Brady’s Run Park, on slightly damp summer grass. The only food I remember is the Fourth of July birthday cake with tiny American flags on it because the Fourth was my mom’s birthday, and…
I over-promise. I talk to someone, like them, we bond over food, and I promise I’ll bring or send them cookies. Then I come home at night not just exhausted from work, but guilt-ridden that I never got the promised cookies to the poor person left waiting at the cookie altar. Then, in one night, I bake like a maniac and try to and send all the promised…
If you haven’t seen my recent posts on the Chocolate Chip Off, this post will make no sense whatsoever. I’ve been on a Chocolate Chip Cookie binge. I baked, then had people judge, but then came up with what, I think was the winner, after the fact. And late tallies changed my previous numbers. God! Nothing is ever easy! Well, it turns out the Pan Banging cookies weren’t…
It’s 11:50 p.m. on Friday night, but I promised the results today, so technically, I’m still in under the wire! If I ever mention that I think it will be fun to bake four different kinds of cookies then bring them in for morning radio shows to test, someone please slap me, and lock me in my room, OK? I was up at 3 a.m. Thursday morning, baking…