In the world of professional cooks, the phrase “do you want to come over for dinner?” often translates into “can you come to my house and cook us dinner, pleeeease?“. [Read more →]

I’m amazed that the filling even got to the tart shell. [Read more →]

Banana bread is one of those recipes that people always strive to perfect, and once perfected, they often guard their new secret like its the Holy Grail.  I’ve loved this sweet, delicious quick bread since childhood, but have never managed to find just the right measure of ingredients.  Until now. [Read more →]

I can eat any type of seafood with remoulade, whether its fried calamari, poached lobster, a shrimp po’boy, crab cakes, or soft-shell crabs.  I’m even happy just to dip some fried potatoes or hard-boiled eggs into this condiment, or mix a simplified recipe of it with a little créme fraîche and grated celeriac to make a classic céleri en rémoulade. [Read more →]

When soft-shell crab season rolls around, I make sure to pick up a few of these delicate crustaceans at my local market.  The fact that I can consume this delicious, white, flaky meat in its entirety without the use of a mallet or leaving a large mess in my tiny apartment is a boon. [Read more →]

I thought I was done with ramps after my overdose last year.  But when I spied the bright, green leaves waving at me in my favorite Italian grocery, I couldn’t resist. [Read more →]

I *bleeping* love meatballs. *Bleeping.* Love. Them.

There, I said it.   [Read more →]

This salad was conceived out of an unfaltering desire for oysters.  The gist of this long story:  a couple weeks ago, we went to San Francisco.  After sitting in the very last un-reclinable row of an airplane on a six+ hour delayed flight and checking into a hotel that looked good on the internet but apparently had walls made of paper with paint peeling off, an overworked and exhausted 6′3 foot husband found himself slightly *perturbed*.

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A decision has been made.  When the Era of Retirement finally dawns upon us in our Golden Years one day far into the future, the husband and I will sally forth (or more likely hobble) to the lush, rolling hills that make up Napa Valley.  We will live in a charming little house made of stone with a large yard in the back, with plenty of room to grow a garden and for a boxer (or two) to run.  Neighboring vineyards, an abundance of prolific rosemary, and pasturing Belted Dutch Galloway cows will serve as the backdrop to this idyllic existence. [Read more →]