If “The Potluck” were on Facebook, I would not become a fan.
Let’s just get it out there: People bring some pretty heinous food to potlucks. There are always your requisite casseroles made with unidentified ground meat and cream of mushroom soup, topped off with chips or Cheetos or something weird.
The other day David came home from the office with a handful of papers. “What’s that?” I asked. His response was a little sheepish: “Umm. I was thinkin’ we might serve Simnel cake after church next Sunday. He stammered a little as he continued, “I found some recipes online. Could
A couple weeks ago Andy and I stopped in at our local cheese shop. He was looking for a fragrant wedge of blue for a burger and I wanted a special goat cheese. I examined all the cheeses and felt a little overwhelmed. So many choices, just within the goat
Rarely do I wake up from a dream and think to myself, “Man, I wish that was real life.” (Ok maybe a couple times in high school when I dreamed that Justin Timberlake wanted to be my boyfriend.) Mostly, I jolt out of dreams where I am being chased or
If cocktails were men, gin and tonic would be my life partner.
I’ll admit my head is easily turned by glitzy drinks with alluring names at trendy bars. But only now and again. It’s mostly because I know very few can reproduce my beloved to my liking.
Gin and tonic (G&T to
This is one of the great questions in cooking: is it better to get it done, or get it done right?
I remember this debate raging among the staff at Fine Cooking as they struggled to find a balance between fussy (though some would argue “fun”) project recipes and weeknight (some
I’ve always wanted to make lefse—Swedish potato crepes—on Christmas morning.
My husband, David Anderson, is full-blooded Scandinavian, the son of a Swedish father and a Norwegian mother. Along with two brothers and four sisters, he grew up in Yankton, South Dakota. Every Christmas morning David’s mother made a mountain of these
Last week British Chef, Jamie Oliver, won the 2010 TED prize for his vision to “create a strong, sustainable movement to educate every child about food, inspire families to cook again and empower people everywhere to fight obesity.” The food blogging community was alight with words of praise, support
When I told everyone I was moving to New Haven, I got fair warning about the great pizza rivalry in this city. (For the record, in the Sally’s vs. Pepe’s debate, I am firmly in the Pepe’s camp.) But no one told me this town had dueling Italian bakeries, too.
Before telling my story, I need to identify myself.
I believe it’s true—you’re either a cook or a baker. It doesn’t mean you can’t do both, but most of us tend to prefer one or the other. I’m more of a cook. I bake just fine. I understand the science of
