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By rahoward, on March 24th, 2020
On the list (which is long) of vegetables that are underrated, we come to one with whom I’ve had a long relationship. The lowly cabbage, the stuff of children’s stories and children’s toys, the butt of many a “bubble-and-squeak” joke, the bad guy (growing up) for many years merely boiled to bulk up . . . → Read More: Paying cabbage its due
By rahoward, on August 28th, 2016
I’ve long been obsessed with cream puffs. I learned to make them as a child, watching my mother and then whipping them up myself. It’s a strange process, puff-making, strange in its doing and even stranger in its simplicity. I continue to be baffled that the same ingredients, cooked in different ways, yield vastly different . . . → Read More: Bread of the Month: Puffing up with gougéres
By rahoward, on September 14th, 2013
When we travel, we meet ourselves head-on. Outside of our regular routines and familiar environments, we can self-startle and see sides of us we don’t always see. Like my stomach…I saw it walking ahead of me in downtown Atlanta, sticking straight out, fuller than I had ever seen it, proud and distended. Following (or should . . . → Read More: Bread of the Month: Digging into past with hoecakes
By rahoward, on June 30th, 2013
Time was, a simple pizza crust would do. I came of age when I saw this concept turn. I grew up in the land of Pizza Hut, and after the advent of pan pizzas and personal pan pizzas, there began an onslaught of pizza crust one-uppings in every chain in America, where all manner of . . . → Read More: Bread of the Month: Rounding out a pizza dough
By rahoward, on February 14th, 2012
This is a love story of sorts. Like many women, I am drawn to an individual that is – according to many — no good for me, yet I cannot resist. Our encounters are illicit and all-too-infrequent, whether they take place in public places or the privacy of my home. The moments together are always . . . → Read More: Loving bacon, wrong or right
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Quotable: “People ask me: "Why do you write about food, and eating, and drinking? Why don't you write about the struggle for power and security, and about love, the way the others do?" . . . The easiest answer is to say that, like most other humans, I am hungry.”
--M.F.K. Fisher
"It was in a yellow limestone church in Stockdale, Kansas, a crossroads town, that I sat dreaming during summer Sunday sermons, not of heaven or hell, but of the good dinner to come."
--Clementine Paddleford
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