Here’s this year’s Thanksgiving cranberry sauce recipe. It’s a keeper!
The zucchini harvest has begun! I’m not yet regretting the 5 plants I popped in the ground planning for a summer of squash blossom quesadillas and my dream of edible flower pizza, but the season is young. No doubt in a couple of months I’ll find a monstrous zucchini or two hidden under the scarlet runner beans as in years past and have to do something drastic again.
We are not a particularly Handy Family, so I was surprised when LL suggested we spend Memorial Day weekend sanding and revarnishing the kitchen cabinets. They definitely needed to be slathered with love after all these years of heavy use (18 years, really, since we built the kitchen? Wow!) And we had the time – when you live next to the beach, you tend to stay away from it on days the crowds appear. Like Memorial Day. So we enlisted the help of a Handy Friend, dug around in the shed to find the palm and detail sanders left over from a different round of remodeling, stocked up on sandpaper, and away we went.
It’s been a while since I’ve written about the wonderful recipes in Susan Feniger and Mary Sue Milliken’s Cooking with Too Hot Tamales. That doesn’t mean I’ve not been using it! – that book certainly one I’d take to be stranded on a desert island. (Along with Top Chef CJ Jacobson to cook for me!) This tangerine and watercress salad is one of the reasons why – it’s perfect for these winter satsumas and clementines piled up at the grocers. Read on.
A summer recipe for grilled asparagus salad with toasted pine nuts, crispy prosciutto, and salty parmesan. Mmm.
Most recently, my universe wanted pickled red onions.
It started one afternoon when Kid Two and his Buddy sat here after school and ate an entire jar of baby dill pickles and a one of cornichons for their snack.
Awkwardly slow-dancing to “Nights in White Satin,” bar hopping on Bourbon Street, and really, really, irresponsible adult chaperones. Food often evokes memories, of course. But in this case the memories were so elusive, and the food item so rarely cooked, the recollection took months to surface. It’s all the power of potato salad.