Greggie’s Choice

Sometimes readers of my blog have great ideas that lead to new things and new posts! A few weeks ago — Election Eve, in fact — I wrote a post called “Barack, Brits & Bananas” about a spontaneous dessert I’d come up with for a last-minute party (or more appropriately, a long-planned party I’d forgotten about until the last minute): banana rum walnut bread pudding with Nutella dulce de leche. The post prompted a comment from my friend Greg:

“And in honor of President Obama you could make it banana macadamia nut rum bread pudding. Sounds delicious either way.”

I replied that I thought that was a fine idea, and left it at that. Until, that is, I had a couple slices of stale King’s Hawaiian Bread and was cooking Hawaiian-style pork ribs for dinner one night. And Uncle Greggie’s comment came flooding back into my head. More

A Whale of a Tapa

One of my favorite scenes in the Pixar film, “Finding Nemo,” is when Marlin, Nemo’s father (a clownfish voiced by Albert Brooks) is worried that an approaching whale is going to eat him and his pal, Dory (a blue tang voiced by Ellen Degeneres). Dory says, “Don’t worry. Whales don’t eat clownfish. They eat krill.” Just then, a school of panicked krill passes by, screaming, “Swim away!!!” “Oh, look!,” says Dory, “Krill!” as the massive open-mouthed whale swims up behind them.

Dory & Marlin as the whale approaches

I’m always one for a culinary adventure, but I must say, I never thought I would actually eat krill. After all, I’m a human, not a baleen whale. But things changed when I read a recipe for a tapa called tortilla de camerones in a cookbook by the great Spanish chef,  José Andrés. They were lacy little tempura-like fritters of small whole shrimp originating at a famous restaurant called Casa Balbino in the Spanish province of Cadíz. They looked delicious — right in my “fried” and “crispy” wheelhouse. So I resolved to make them. More

Heaven Sent, Via Kentucky

I am fortunate to have not lost many friends over the years. There was a rash of deadly car crashes in high school, reckless kids gone almost before they began, but since then things have pretty much been quiet. With the exception, that is, of one of my dearest friends — a Southern gentleman named Dann Byck.

Dann at Byck’s Department Store in Louisville, 1977

Dann would bristle at that description of him, which is exactly why I use it. He had a good sense of humor. We met at a coffee joint on a snooty street in Santa Monica where we would both sometimes sit in the mornings and watch the beautiful Range Rover mothers push their babies past in Italian-made Peg Perego strollers. More

Barack, Brits & Bananas

Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention. And I find this is often true in the kitchen — especially if one is going to a dinner party and needs to make something in a hurry.

The makings of a dessert

Election night: English friend Patricia down the street was having a disco birthday election bash which we, in the whirl of activity that is our lives, had forgotten about until our iCalendar gave us a cheerful little alert that same afternoon. More

My Habit

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I have a relatively new habit: Macadamia nuts.

I’ve always loved these salty, buttery treats. But in the past limited my consumption to trips to Hawaii, or to the one or two canisters I would bring home from one of those visits — those usually saved for cooking. But I’m a snacker, and looking for a healthier alternative to salty potato chips, I thought I’d purchase a bag of the Australian dry roasted macs at Trader Joes. Surely the $8+ price tag would keep me from developing a habit, I thought. More

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