My Moroccan mother-in-law was a wonderful cook who could easily whip up a feast for 20 or 30 people without breaking a sweat. Her multi-course menus would include a variety of salads, a fish course, sometimes a soup, and several… Continue reading…
the broken yolk
The first time I went to Paris, I traveled alone. I was 23. I stayed in a small hotel on the Boulevard Saint-Michel in the Latin Quarter and spent every day walking the streets with tears in my eyes. It was all… Continue reading…
a little bit of this, a little bite of that
For as long as I can recall, small bites have appealed to me. I prefer to graze whenever I can, sampling lots of nibbles, instead of a lot of one. Tapas, meze, and appetizer courses excite me with the prospect of… Continue reading…
the yearly yen
I have this funny little quirk. Every year, about a month or so before Passover, I start having this wild craving for matzo. I’m not sure why–maybe it’s the subliminal message I get when I see boxes of matzo laid… Continue reading…
we’re makin’ bacon
Today, courtesy of a college spring break, my guest chef is my beautiful and talented daughter, Sophie. While home, she wanted to bake up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies for her boyfriend and, when looking for a recipe, stumbled across this… Continue reading…