One of the strangest but most helpful Parenting EpiphaniesTM I’ve had is when I realized that parenting and cooking often give me the same kinds of anxiety because they are both a kind of alchemy. Sure, there are basic recipes and best practices and knowledge handed down from generation to generation. But every set of ingredients is unique, and the oven at your place might not act like the oven at Barbara’s, because Barbara blackmailed…
I had a hormonal hissy-fit yesterday while making a third batch of test cupcakes. I had piped in the colored filler and was ready to top them all off with the canned frosting I bought a week ago, when I realized the can was deliriously lighter than it had been the last time I had used a mere week ago on my first test batch. The top was messy and full of icing, and I…
Some people have a way in the kitchen, a familiarity with ingredients and appliances and tools that lets them look into a pantry, look at the clock, and figure out that they can take a little of this, a little of that, and a pinch of that and make something that will go in the oven for half an hour and then, when it cools, will be transferred from pan to mouth to gut, thus…
We had a potluck for which we cooked foods that generally fly south of the border. It was magnificent. I made Cuban picadillo, which wasn’t terrible (yay!), although next time I’ll need to figure out a better way to serve it (mix it with rice or offer bread or something). [Project 365]
(This entry originally posted Friday at The Memphis Blog) The World Championship Barbecue Cooking contest is heating up in every literal way possible. I moseyed down there for lunch today to visit my friend and co-worker Mike (below, at right), CA plateroom/prepress man and the brains behind Sow Luau, and sweated buckets in the sun. But it’s a beautiful day so I can’t complain too much. I got some free food (a hamburger, a hot…
I always feel a little like I’m tempting fate when I cook chicken for myself.
Dang, my friends can cook. And they’re spilling secrets like beans from a bag with a big ol’ hole in it. Come for the links, stay for the bad similes!
I spent some time in the kitchen today, performing an alchemic miracle that resulted in this modest dish (I’ll pause so you can ooh and ah and gasp at the sheer brilliance that is supper bake in a box), which contains chicken, which means that I have roughly eight to forty-eight hours before the gnarly teeth of salmonella poisoning consume me. I mean, I cooked it ’til it was nice and white but still, I’m…
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