In Praise of the Unpasteurized

My biggest regret about not living in France is cheese.

A few weeks ago, my friend Brian (he of 90/60 blood pressure and 48 bmp heart rate) arrived to a small birthday celebration I’d hastily thrown together for myself with several raw-milk cheeses he’d just brought back from France. I can’t even remember what I cooked — the cheeses were the stars of the night.

Contraband French cheeses

Contraband French cheeses

You are not allowed to bring soft unpasteurized cheese into the United States. Which technically makes Brian a smuggler. But these are cheeses worth any risk — rich, deep and complex in a way you just can’t find in the imported stuff. More

50 Lbs. of Potatoes

I’ve begun sourcing for the massive auction dinner I will be preparing on Saturday night. While I was out shopping one day, I saw a 50 lb. bag of potatoes, and bought it.

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“So I guess you’re doing a baked potato bar?” my friend Katy asked.

“Yes, with no condiments,” I replied. “Just baked potatoes. People will ask, ‘Do you have any sour cream or butter?’ And we’ll say, ‘No, just potatoes. And beer.'”

“I like it.” More

Salt & Sneakers

It was with a great deal of amusement and some wonder at the irony of things that I noticed, for the first time really, that the two books on my bed stand were called “Salt” and “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.”

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Both were given to me by friends. “Salt” (full title: “Salt: A World History”) came from my friend Brian, he of 90/60 blood pressure about whom I previously wrote, who also brought me a small container of Japanese salt from the depths of the Mariana Trench — the deepest spot in the Pacific Ocean. (Brian’s doctor actually told him he needs to eat more salt and more fat. More

Don’t Try This at Home

Even as long as I’ve been cooking, I’m still guilty on a regular basis of stupid kitchen injuries and snafus. I try to tell my children, when they cook with me, to learn from my mistakes. I show them the assortment of current cuts and burns on my hands as a cautionary tale. Perhaps they’ll learn the lessons of their father, or perhaps they’ll learn the hard way.

Don't let a shark bite off the tip of your nose!

Don’t let a tiny kitchen shark bite off the tip of your nose!

Here is a list of culinary “Don’t”s — dumb kitchen mistakes that I find myself repeating over and over. I share them with you in the hopes you might have more common sense than I and avoid them. Or at least get a laugh at my misfortune. More

Skinny Girls Roadshow LIVE from Mexico — El Mercado de Pescado

We love the food at Casa Tres Coronitas — prepared by the house cook, Marilu — especially the first couple days we are here. But after a few days, we’re ready for a change… if not wanting to necessarily  leave this perfect paradise.

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“I would like it if you cooked a couple nights,” Leslie said last time we were here. But we never had the courage to approach Marilu with this proposition, both out of fear of hurting her feelings, and an inability to communicate the point to her anyway. But when I mentioned it to Monica, who speaks fluent Spanish, she was insistent. “Oh, of course you will cook! I already told Marilu that you were a chef and you wanted to cook.”

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