Why does everyone have to keep talking about how summer’s almost over?
La la la la la! This is me sticking my fingers in my ears and not listening.
La la la la la! These peaches are me sticking my fingers in my ears and not listening. La la la–oh, mmmm. Continue reading
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It took me all summer to get around to making zucchini bread. I don’t have a go-to recipe, and I wasn’t feeling inspired. I didn’t want spices. I didn’t want nuts. I didn’t want chocolate.
I wanted this, although I didn’t know it yet. Butter, infused with basil and mint, so flavorful and delicious that I almost canned the baking idea in favor of just tossing that butter with shredded zucchini. (I’ll be doing that too, you can be sure.) The subtle tang of rye. A little sugar, but not so much that you couldn’t still slather a slice in raspberry jam. And we have. Oh, we have.
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Is it wrong to tell you, right off the bat, that these enchiladas–any enchiladas, really–are just an excuse to eat that sauce we made yesterday? We loaded them up with good toppings, too–avocado, sour cream, a fried egg…what? You don’t top your enchiladas with a fried egg? It’s high time, I tell you.
This dish has all the flavor of good Mexican food without the fussiness of individually-rolled enchiladas. Continue reading
Roundabout late afternoon, while I’m (doing a million other things and) waiting for inspiration to strike in the kitchen, it’s usually safe to start with a sauce. A pesto, a garlicky yogurt sauce, a lemony harissa number? It’s easy to take it from there: a pesto might lead to pasta, a yogurt sauce will inspire something to dunk in it, and that lemony harissa is a treat with eggs.
Today, unable to stare down the mountain of gorgeous produce in my fridge, I retreated instead to a pantry shelf for a jar of dried guajillo chiles from our Tonnemaker’s CSA. A spicy paste of red chiles is the answer to a number of questions at our house, such as: “What should I pour over rice and black beans and vegetables?” and “What would be good on this taco salad?” and “How should I sauce my enchiladas?” And if there’s any of this sauce left over after dinner, the question immediately becomes, “How soon is morning so I can make huevos rancheros?” Continue reading
There’s no accounting for taste. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I can see which posts are most popular among you, dear readers. And I have this to say: zucchini fritters? Really? Aren’t you sick of zucchini yet? (I mean, they’re great, but….) And I also have this to say: you are missing out by passing over that Sloppy-Gloppy Crisp-and-Crunchy Tofu Reuben Sandwich.
Can I at least convince you to try the tofu part?
My summer kitchen is bursting at the seams. Of course I found more lurking zucchini after dispatching yesterday’s, we had barely gotten through last week’s vegetables when this week’s CSA box arrived, the tomatoes are finally going in the garden, and the pears and plums are ready to pick. On top of all that, we have a lovely friend who always calls us when her figs are ripe, and J came home one recent evening with a brimming box of perfect green figs. 
So today was a jam day. Continue reading
The challenge with zucchini at this time of year, I find, is how to wrangle overgrown clubs of squash into something that you actually want to eat. With all due respect to the lovely Mollie Katzen (to whom much respect is due), this is not the season for stuffed “Zuccanoes.”
My answer to the annual giant zucchini quandary usually involves my food processor. Grating zucchini is therapeutic, first off; literally cutting the squash down to size shows it who’s boss and lets it see that you are not intimidated. Continue reading
One of the nice things about writing a food blog, it turns out, is that you meet other people who like food. And in this networked world, you soon meet their friends, and friends-of-friends, and so it goes until you find yourself, as I often do, surrounded by people who love food, eating good food, talking about food. 
Sometimes those people even cook for you. Continue reading
My first half-gallon of tangy, delicious sauerkraut ended badly…
…and I found myself looking for ways to serve the last few brine-less cups left in the bottom of the jar.
What would you do? Continue reading
Do you remember your first ice cream cone?
Here’s how it went, maybe, if you were one year old at the time: chubby fist, gleeful grin, strawberry ice cream everywhere, little fingers clutching the stump of a soggy cone as a rueful grown-up finally wrestled it away. That was my youngest daughter today.
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