Easter has come and gone, and now you’re stuck with a dozen hard-boiled eggs. You can be healthy and eat two at a time for a quick breakfast or one as a mid-morning snack, but that’s boring. How about an egg salad sandwich instead? Quick and easy, egg salad is a make-ahead item that you can leave in your refrigerator for the week and use as you go. You can even dump some in a bowl and eat straight-up with a spoon for a light meal. It’s the ultimate lazy
can’t recall the last time I had a cough this persistent. It’s been over a month, and I can’t shake the damn thing. I’ve gone through OTC cough syrup and two prescription sizzurps—first with codeine, and then with hydrocodone. I coughed so much, I injured my diaphragm. My poor hubs—he dodged my germs for four weeks. But then his body succumbed, and he got sick, too. Fortunately, neither of us had the flu. My cold just lasts a long time because I have a very low immune system due to
I’m not a celebrant of Valentine’s Day, since I think it’s mostly an unnecessary jaunt through over-consumerism, but tomorrow is the hubs’s birthday, so I thought I’d honor him with a recipe for one of his favorite foods. The hubs loves a good burger. In Houston, our current favorite burger joint is Stanton’s City Bites, but why not make it at home yourself? I grew up eating McDonald’s, and even though fast food, especially those Golden Arches, spurs such contempt in our current health-conscious generation, I can’t deny I still
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
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.
This was the first Thanksgiving in 12 years that I did not serve a fried turkey for our family Thanksgiving meal. Since my mama-in-law shrinks away from fried foods, we decided to put the new PolyScience immersion circulator to good use and sous vide our turkey instead.
I’m bringing food back! It’s been quite a long while since I posted a recipe. But I recently got a brand new PolyScience immersion circulator, something I’ve been eyeing for quite some time, and now our kitchen has become a 24-hour sous vide factory. I’m still learning the ins and outs of this beautiful machine, but I thought I’d write about the first food item we cooked in the immersion circulator: New York strip steaks. Now, the strip is not my favorite cut because it’s rather lean when compared to
Brussels sprouts, as they’re named, are of Belgian and Roman origin. They resemble miniature heads of cabbage, and while that may not sound appealing, Brussels sprouts are one of my favorite vegetables of late. They’re nutritious and delicious with their anti-cancer properties and earthy, nutty flavor. Overcook them, and they’ll be gross. But when made right, Brussels sprouts offer just the right balance of texture: tender yet crispy. So forget those soggy, bland, dull gray Brussels sprouts of yesteryear. Roast and/or broil them, and you’ll get some stellar sprouts. My
I don’t understand people who claim they don’t eat lamb because it’s “too gamey.” Duck and lamb, when it’s a good cut of meat and when it’s fresh, have got to be some of the least gamey meat around. But to each his own, I guess. For me, I adore lamb. And not just because it used to be a cute cuddly hand puppet (I say “used to” because it’s now a juicy pink piece of meat on my plate) but because it tastes pretty darn good. But because it’s
With less than two full days left in the Bay area, John and I tried to cram everything food-wise into our schedule. We woke up early Monday morning to a dreary, drizzly day and made our way north to wine country. We meant to drive across the Golden Gate bridge since we were heading to Russian River in Santa Rosa first, killing two birds with one stone so John can finally see the acclaimed bridge he’d so often seen in photos and on TV. But being heavily dependent of the