My little brother took his first breath on a cold day in February, when doctors still made house visits and new mothers still spent days in the hospital. And that was good, as far as I was concerned, for during those 4 or 5 days that my mother lay exhausted in the maternity ward, I learned what Italian food could be. The wife of my father’s boss invited him and we two other children, of whom I was the unwilling […]
Want to make your own? Here’s a recipe from Epicurious: Nutella and Banana Crêpes 4 servings Crepes: 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 tablespoon sugar 1/4 teaspoon salt 1 1/2 cups fat-free milk 2 large eggs, lightly beaten Cooking spraySauce: 1/4 cup hazelnut-chocolate spread (such as Nutella) 2 tablespoons fat-free milk 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 large firm unpeeled bananas (about 1 3/4 pounds) Powdered sugar (optional) To prepare crepes, lightly spoon flour into a dry measuring cup; level with a knife. […]
Like many of you, I dream about being in France. A lot. And, of course, I daydream about eating in Paris, in spite of naysayers who point their compasses at other, more culinarily au courant corners of the globe. I’m already making lists of culinary adventures in preparation for my grant-sponsoredjourney this fall, doing research in Paris and Aix-en-Provence. The following are but just a few of the places I’m imagining …
For an introduction to the lives of wild snails, do take a look at this marvelous book by Elizabeth Tova Bailey: Note: Lewis Carroll wrote a poem, “A Whiting and a Snail,” from whence comes the title of this post: ‘There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England the nearer is to France – Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.’
Lemons, their pitted, nay, prehistoric, skins secreting golden oil, Shielding sourness, evoking memories of a grandmother’s kitchen, A grandfather’s garden. Born in the East, fruitful India, A kiss of cold, albeit fleeting, spawns the yellow Immortalized in stone, paint, and clay. A fruit reverenced, Blossoming from mountain and lake, Urging cooks to slice, pierce, and squeeze, Inspiring miracles among the pots and pans. Lemon curd … Lemon pie … Lemon chicken … Preserved lemons … Limoncello … Such richness! Pasta […]
From the first gasping breath, when tiny hands claw at air, reaching futilely for an anchor, a rope, air feeds us. Even fish of seas and lakes and rivers seek that building block of air — oxygen. Fire roars when coddled by oxygen and whimpers like a teat-deprived newborn lamb in its absence. Steam, the child of fire and water, births bread and soufflés, and yet sometimes bites the hand that feeds it. “Don’t play with fire, you may get […]
[In this space, I usually write "A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation." But today I'd like to add that as long as people hold a fork or chopsticks, or coil their fingers, with food in front of them, hope exists in the world. A full belly and a passion for living, what more do we need? May all be fed ... ]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.] *I usually don’t write anything for these “picture-only” posts, but I encourage readers to check out the “Shelf Life” Web site, because of the clever commentary on packaged foods and retro food-product ads. A column, “Shelf Life,” appears monthly in the National Toronto Post as well.
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]* *Demon eyeballs, click on photo for recipe. Note: for the next two weeks, I’m working on a couple of intensive writing projects, so “Gherkins & Tomatoes” will of necessity be brief, with a look at “Saints, Souls, and Haints” in honor of the ancient traditions of Halloween, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day. “Haints” comes from a slang term used for “ghost” in the American South.