Trusting in a go-to mushroom parmigiana

I’ll admit, I’m a little too attached to instructions.

My sister and I kid each other about this difference between us — she is more of a “freestyle” cook who invents and improvises (sans measuring spoons and cups), while I refer strictly to a recipe, allowing myself a few adaptations.

I can’t always hold a . . . → Read More: Trusting in a go-to mushroom parmigiana

Searching for the morel to the story

If there is some truth to the notion that we pick our parents before we are born, then I must have selected mine because I knew they would lead me to morel mushrooms. By lead, I mean literally. During my childhood in Kansas, I was taken on jaunts into timber so thick it seemed unnavigable . . . → Read More: Searching for the morel to the story

Springing forward with mushrooms, leeks

Spring heralds with it certain tastes, pushing up like new grass in a warming earth. I find myself craving mushrooms, and I know why. Years ago, our springs were spent in pursuit of them in the wild. While other families played miniature golf, we scavenged the brush- and tree-clotted timber, looking for the gold . . . → Read More: Springing forward with mushrooms, leeks