Yes, spring is here in Portland, but hanging-on cloudy days have me clamoring for earth tones. I’ve always preferred muted earth tones and rich jewel tones, and even though I should be eating piles of sweet green pea tendrils and fennel bulbs, I don’t mind the bruise of burgundy from my cellar’s last beets. My…
Many foods are evocative of one’s place of peasant origin, of one’s mother-tongue. When done properly, the mere smell of these foods has the power to bring a grown man to his blubbering knees, felled by memories of hiding shy behind grandma’s apron. Borscht is one such soulful food, instantly wending one to rugged Slavic…
I have the good fortune of having been born into a family of prolific hunters (read: unemployed men with guns). My dad uses this as currency, bartering venison for visits with his grandson. He can never simply tell me he wants to see Zephyr. Instead, “I got some elk I wanna bring over.” Thing is,…
…or, “hodgepodge soup”. Yeah, I’ve already failed at meeting my once-a-week blogging quota. And I don’t fucking care! God, it’s so liberating to just admit that instead of apologizing and making excuses. I have been cooking here and there, but nothing new or interesting. I can’t be a genius all the time. I made a…
Last summer I was totally knocked up and not good for much. Thank god I still had the presence of mind to a) grow a vegetable garden that included scarlet runner beans and b) utilize some of October’s nesting instinct to harvest all of the beans and dry them instead of squandering all that precious…
…or, Back in the Saddle Again Zephyr is now 8 weeks old, and I’m starting to get the hang of having him around. That said, cooking still takes me a bit of planning (unless I opt for yet another “pasta night” or “takeout night”). This is why I’ve decided to start doing what busy moms…
My southern friends know this little beaut from their moms, aunts and grandmas, from Baptist church lady potlucks, from friends’ house dinners. This, my Yankee friends, is Frito pie. It is exactly as complicated as it sounds – chili on Fritos. Other accoutrements are optional. I made my own chili by browning some ground turkey…
I should just go ahead and change the name of this blog to Soup and Brekkie, cuz I’m on a fucking kick. Soup is a basic thing, though, and anyone can make excellent soup if they’re willing to keep bags of bones and carcass in their freezer. If they’re not, though, they can still crank…
Any more, whenever I cook or even eat beans, I think of my buddy Ken Albala over at Ken Albala’s Food Rant. He doesn’t get as much traffic as all the Foodbuzz and Foodie Blogroll folks, which is a fucking shame, because he’s actually a real writer. Of actual books. One of such books is…
I hate to do this (or anything for the sake of doing), but since I said I would post the cassoulettes (mini-cassoulet) from the Scarlet Runner beans I grew (or that I would cook them, actually), here it is. Sorry to give it so unenthusiastically, but it’s late, my head hurts and I’m developing a…
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