I’ve struggled with the concepts of change and control for as long as memory serves.
Around the fifth time we dropped a few pounds of eggplant into our red market basket, we paused and took a closer look at our selection.
In the summer, the words “Oregon” and “berry” are practically synonymous.
When I hustle down the basement stairs to grab another jar of jam, what stops me from reaching for the cherry?
Bon Appetit recently published an entire spread on Sqirl, a restaurant in LA that writer Matt Duckor calls “the future of restaurant food”.
Two summers ago, this tomato jam recipe transformed me from a canning dabbler into a canning convert.
This summer, I’ve noticed a distinct – and seemingly permanent – change in how I approach cooking.
If you look closely, you’ll notice slight differences among several of the photos.
There are hundreds of varieties of panzanella, the classic Italian tomato and bread salad.
There were a few food trade-offs I was prepared to make when I moved to Portland.
Sometimes it takes me 45 minutes before I’m intriguted enough by a recipe to feel ready to head to the farmers’ market.
I have to be honest: I prepared and ate this romano bean salad three weeks ago.
After yesterday's Fourth of July festivities, Thanksgiving's standing as my favorite holiday is in danger.
Smelling a ripe peach immediately brings to mind several food memories: summers on my parents' deck, eating the fruit as quickly as I could as it leaked all over my arm.
Canning and preserving tomatoes felt unsettlingly like participating in a high school biology class experiment.
We made sweet corn polenta last Thursday and it was heartbreakingly good.
I brought a bagful of Red Jacket Orchards’ apricots home with me on Thursday.
This weekend, we turned these plump sap green okra into a delicately fried appetizer, topped with homemade tomato jam.
I’m so hot right now that I’m tempted to write: yum peaches.
I wanted to prepare a low impact dessert, one that wouldn't heat up the kitchen to an insufferable temperature.
I fear I may be too late on this post...but I'll share this recipe anyways, in case you spot some rhubarb at the market this weekend.
Several Saturdays ago, we brought a cardboard box up the farmers market.
I have a recipe binder that I'm slowly filling with interesting recipes I've clipped from magazines and newspapers.
Thanks to Pixar, the first image to pop into your head when you hear the word ‘ratatouille’ might in fact be a rat!
In full disclosure, I've yet to go to Frankies Spuntino or Prime Meats, though I have been to Café Pedlar numerous times (which should count for something by association!).
When we returned from our honeymoon, we faced the end of vacation woes: an empty fridge, piles of laundry, and exhaustion.