I was stunned to realize the other day that I've never posted this dear old friend pasta. Now that we're all supposed to be joyously embracing the Mediterranean diet, this almost conforms, bursting with fresh tomatoes, peppery arugula and bright, fresh lemons and garlic. It iis really only inappropriate because of the heavy cream, oh, and the cheese. Never mind, it's SO good and easy for any old weeknight, that at least I always take comfort that there's no artery clogging meat in it.
Read moreMeyer Lemon Cheesecake
You know what they say: When life hands you a cold, rainy day in February, make Meyer lemon cheesecake.
I don't know about you, but I've been happily tripping over Meyer lemons for weeks now at the grocery, so when I spied this recipe the other day on Food 52, I was ready. Creamy and delicious, not too sweet, but not too tart either, my initial reaction to reading it was that it just might be the perfect way to banish the reality of it still being February and happily, I was right. It came together in a jiff, and the only trauma was waiting for it to cool because the Meyer lemonyness suffusing my kitchen proved to be almost irresistible.
Read moreCauliflower Cheese Soup
I have been remiss. It's not that I haven't been cooking, or writing, or even photographing. It's just that I've been up to my nose in other stuff and I haven't been posting. In going through my photographs from the last few months, I'm struck by how many lovely things graced our kitchen table that I've not shared. I shall do my best to make amends.
And speaking of sharing, just maybe, this is a good time to discuss the saga of "the great pantry debacle" which may provide some comfort, or at least amusement to you, my equally fraught fellow home cooks.
Read moreButtermilk Waffles and Candied Bacon
As the old saw goes, when the world hands you candied bacon, make buttermilk waffles.
At least that's what I told myself this evening, after an intense but wonderful three-hour performance of Death of a Salesman, when somehow, a midst the pudding-like fog of a chilly December night, suddenly no food on earth could be possibly more appealing than a bout of what Felix once, so adroitly, dubbed "Brinner."
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