It is amazing how, even today, the sight of blackberries can always make me smile. I smile when I spot them in the produce section at the grocery store. I grin when I find them collected in wooden baskets displayed in neat rows on narrow folding tables at the local farmers’ market. And, I am delighted when I spy a new use for them tucked away within the pages of Wednesday’s food section in our suburban paper. Read More>
Traditional. “Old School”, my husband might say. These adjectives are some of those that might be chosen to describe me, by family and friends. Maybe they know how much I relish preserving the past, when it is the right thing to do. Perhaps they understand my desire to save things that are well-made, but are at risk of getting discarded or lost, simply because they are not new. Or could it be my deep respect of history? Not so much history in the textbook sense, but rather looking back at the evolution of things over time. Specifically, noting when we got things exactly right or when things just got off course. I guess you might say, I’m more of a “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme” kind-of-gal. Read More>
Tomatillo-braised Pork with Red Potatoes
For my second post, I decided to go with a fresh find, a new recipe. A recipe that although only recently discovered, quickly found itself inside my keeper box and its results on my table almost once a week. It awakened the sleepy little chef inside of me and brought enthusiasm back into my cooking. It is one of those recipes which can make you feel like an authentic Top Chef contender, if only in your head or for your family, neighbors and friends. Although out of your comfort zone, it turns out mouth-wateringly, magnificent every time. I love it. It was one of those that made me want to run out and share it with everyone I knew. Believe me, I did.
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Why start with a meatball? Well, for me it means home. It makes your house smell like home. They are calming and heavenly. They conjure up thoughts and warm memories of lazy Sunday afternoons as a care-free kid. Who doesn’t want to feel like a care-free kid every once in awhile? A simmering pot of marinara on the stove spiked with these round little wonders: YUM. Plus, it was my oldest son’s first experience with table food. Yes, I fed him a homemade 6-minute meatball. I wonder if my pediatrician would have approved? Oh well, I wanted him to have a wonderful first experience with food. I am delighted to report that he was one happy customer. My second son, well, not so much. My third son gobbled them down, but I guess he eats everything so that doesn’t really count. Read the rest of this entry »
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