We’re a snackin’ family, is all. Pre-parenthood, my visions of mealtime were saccharine at best. Small heads gathered around a table, small hands folded in prayer. Three courses at the ready, three times daily. We’d pass bread. We’d bless the cook. It is this, on rare occasions, but mostly it is not. Mostly it is
Head’s up: Sponsored by Walmart.com. And so it goes: another season whirring by, another set of feet having outgrown his footed pajamas. I take the kitchen scissors and snip off the toe seams so his feet can stretch through; watch two tiny strips of rockets fall to the floor. Scout will be 2 this summer
Head’s Up: Sponsored By Nature’s Way I have heard it stated this way, simplified: Work. Relationships. Wellness. Pick two. But I prefer David Sedaris’ version of four burners, retold in an old (beautiful) piece for New Yorker. That our lives are a stovetop of simmering pots – friends, family, health and work. That to be
Listen. I don’t claim to know a thing or two about cooking or baking or sauteeing, about chiffonade techniques or a parboil. If you point me in the direction of a culinary kitchen, I will be unable to name approximately 84% of the available trappings. Basting and barding and blanching? Foreign languages. But food placing?
I don’t know what came over me exactly. I just know that, somewhere in the nostalgic depths of my mind, there is an image of an aproned mother in pearls and lipstick pulling a loaf of homemade, freshly-risen, flour-dusted bread straight out of the kitchen oven. My mother didn’t bake bread. I don’t even think
I grew up as far away from the kitchen as possible, knowing full well there was likely to be a mother stirring a skillet of Tuna Helper in need of someone to set the table (kids are the worst, man). And so, without a solid memory bank of practice, my food knowledge and stovetop creativity
Sponsored by Delta® Faucet If you watched this video, you’ll know the term ‘recipe’ is a bit loose here. My friend Dan is a natural chef, choosing to follow his instincts over ingredients, and me? Well, I suppose I have a hard time following either when it comes to the kitchen. Still, we’ve nailed down a
Sponsored by Delta® Faucet I cannot categorically, nor in good faith, call myself a chef. I cook things. I stir things. I char (burn) things. I know, mostly, when to use a spatula and when to pick up the tongs, and when all else fails, I can slather half an avocado onto charred (burnt) toast