With Memorial Day a couple of weeks away, summer is lurking right around the corner. I can’t believe how quickly time flies. It felt like just yesterday, I was ringing in 2014 with my grad school friends, and just the other week, I was in diapers. Okay, but really. I have a theory as to why time seems to pass by quicker as we get older. One year when you’re, say, four years old, is 25% of your life. But one year when you’re 35 years old is 0.02857142857143% of
I usually post on Tuesdays, but I didn’t get this week’s entry up in time yesterday. And no, it wasn’t because it was Tax Day. (A tangential tax story: the hubs and I sat down to do our taxes last weekend, and with my Canadian cooking show, ”Four Senses,” it got to being way over our heads, so we had to call up our CPA again and implore her to file an extension and do our taxes. I can manage my way around sharp knives, but I’m completely lost when
Here’s another “everything in moderation” (read: not-so-healthy) post for you. If you’re from the deep south, particularly from Louisiana or the surrounding states, you not only know what crawfish is, you love it. Sure, those little mudbugs give some the heebie-jeebies, but not us from nearby Cajun country. I can’t recall the first time I’d ever had crawfish straight out of its exoskeleton. I was probably in college or a recent graduate. Once I got over the miniature lobster-looking things, all bright red and steaming with their miniature, cute, harmless
I’ve been writing a lot lately about healthy living, but as I’m a firm believer in the saying, “everything in moderation,” here’s a nice, fatty post for you this week. The best ice cream I’ve ever had was in San Francisco. Let me preface this by saying gelato is different from ice cream—in a nutshell, gelato has less fat and churns at alower speed, thus has less air incorporated into it (read the more in-depth explanation of ice cream vs. gelato from Serious Eats)—and I’ve definitely had some amazing gelato
I’ve been writing a lot recently about athleticism, getting fit, and staying in shape. Don’t worry. This week won’t be another post on what you should and shouldn’t be doing with your life. Sort of. This week’s post is a recipe for a delicious smoothie I created when I came across some strawberries in my fruit crisper, left over from when a friend made chocolate covered strawberries for my little Oscars viewing party.
Our family has been obsessed with sous vide ever since we got a PolyScience immersion circulator. The great thins about sous vide cooking are: (1) the prep is minimal (just set it and forget it); and (2) the results are perfect (granted your ingredient and ratios were perfect going in). The hubster once got overly excited about brining and let his spareribs sit in a salt bath for two days, and after an additional 72 hours in the water bath, the ribs were the best texture but way too salty.
I used to be one of those wistful passersby that would stroll by the Vitamix demo stations at Costco, listen to the industrial blade going to town on the fruits and veg, and say to myself, “I’ve got to get me one of those beautiful things in the not-so-distant future.” Well, that not-so-distant day has come, and I no longer need to be a coveting passerby. I’ve shifted into the circle of official Vitamix owners. So hah! Take that, Vitamix girl at Costco! Now I’m blending my own smoothies and
Stuffing is one of those dishes with the most liberal of interpretations, depending on who makes it and what ingredients are used. Technically, what I make is not stuffing, but rather dressing. It’s not stuffing because it’s not stuffed in anything. (I never roast my bird, and frying a stuffed turkey would just be bad news.) But I like calling it “stuffing” anyway, because that word is just more fun to say than “dressing.” (Plus I always think of salad vinaigrettes when I hear “dressing.”) One of my earliest memories
I love corn and have to have it every Thanksgiving. It adds a nice crispy texture next to the creamy potatoes and casseroles. Back when I was an amateur cook, I used to serve them straight out of a can with some butter, salt, and pepper. Now I’ve graduated to cutting them off the cob and increasing the number of ingredients used.
When I think of American comfort food, I think of potatoes. I love potatoes in all forms: fried, baked, mashed, smashed, or whipped. What, you might ask, is the difference between mashed potatoes, smashed potatoes, and whipped potatoes? After digging around online, I’ve come up with this answer.