Searching the chocolate aisle for a new puppy’s name
The chocolate Lab needs a chocolate name, and we sampled a rich variety. Chip got chopped. Hershey seemed too big-box. Toblerone too small-box. We took to pacing the candy aisle,...
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Parker House rolls yield a surprising outcome
Bread means food, job, money. Bread is heavy. Roll means roll. It's light. In the mind's pantry, the two are rarely shelved together. I was mindful of these distinctions when...
Tomato soup and melted-cheese croutons restore spirits
One morning on the snowboard. One afternoon in the ER. One day of vacation shot. Slopes contraindicated, the boy in the wrist cast melts into despair: How will he fill...
Almond and orange snowballs, a perfect little bite
The bomb may be fearsome on the front, but as metaphor, it's the bomb. Chic, charming and clever are the bomb. Unlike, say, the actual bomb. Hard to grasp how...
Utica greens: A regional Italian-American gem that transforms escarole
The melting pot, once a staple of the social-studies classroom, has been retired. And a good thing too. Our regional cuisines, stewed together, would yield a mess. Better to dine...
Have cake, will travel — but take care
You plan to travel. You plan to travel with cake. Why not? It's good company, and unlikely to snag the window seat. First, you contact the Transportation Security Administration. These...
A pot of beans inspires urban cowgirl
Hearth and home get cozy in the political speech and needlepoint pillow. I'm clear on home. Hearth? Not so much. Fireplace? Big fireplace? Big fireplace with cauldron? Like speechifying and...
Honing knife and life skills
Things are dull. Pointless. Slow. Specifically: my knives. Intent on cubing beef or beet, I find myself embattled. There's sawing and hacking, yielding ragged, tired clumps and ragged, tired cook....
Turnips translate into savory tart
"Turnip!" the kids shout, and I'm happy to oblige. I reach into the crisper and pull out the round root. Who can predict teen fads? "Not turnip!" they scream. "Turn...
Spiced wine to warm dark nights
We stole an hour. Late one night in spring, we swiped it clean off the clock. Played with it all summer, lingering in those late evenings until the lightning bugs...