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.
Justin and I have a running joke in our kitchen.
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.
Copious amounts of summer fruit have invaded my house.
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.
"Pudding" is a common item on any British menu.
Lately, I’ve been feeling apathetic about zucchini.
Cherry season was finicky in New York.
I don't have a great track record with cooking rice.
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.
You say tomato, I say tomahto.
Earlier this year I read Joan Gussow’s memoir, This Organic Life.
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.
We've now made this galette two times in the last three days.
For me, blueberry pie evokes images of Maine, sunflowers, and sitting by the ocean.
I wanted to prepare a low impact dessert, one that wouldn't heat up the kitchen to an insufferable temperature.
I made these portable pies yesterday and we've been munching on them all weekend.
I'm going to keep this short and sweet because it's a holiday weekend.
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.
On Monday, we picked up our first pint of cherries of the season!
I've posted about Justin's chocolate chip pancakes before.
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.
It's time to say goodbye to a busy, memorable, and extremely hot summer.
Yesterday demanded an easy meal.
Thanks to Pixar, the first image to pop into your head when you hear the word ‘ratatouille’ might in fact be a rat!
I've been having a love affair with cherries this summer.
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!).
Frankly, the size of this zucchini is intimidating.
I view a homemade tomato sauce as a blank slate.
We viewed the 4th of July as the official kick-off of our summer in Brooklyn.
When we returned from our honeymoon, we faced the end of vacation woes: an empty fridge, piles of laundry, and exhaustion.