The Exquisite Comfort of Biscuits

The sky outside this Saturday morning is grey, threatening rain. Wood is stacked on the deck, we’re still in pajamas and have no place in particular to go as the storm closes in. It’s a biscuit kinda morning.

Buttermilk biscuits & sausage

I didn’t grow up in the South. But somewhere along the culinary line, I developed a great appreciations for things Southern — grits, barbecue, juleps and biscuits. More

An Aside on Resourcefulness

I often write about resourcefulness. It’s one of my favorite food topics — whether I’m encouraging people to turn all the wilted veggies in the fridge drawer they were about to throw out into a soup, or reflecting on how to get five or six different dishes out of a single duck.

Vietnamese spring rolls

The other night, we hosted a Mexican dinner party. Mariachi played on the iTunes, my famous margaritas were flowing, and the menu was robust. In other words, I made too much food. More

The American Series, Pt. VI — Julep Jars

Our friend, Heather, invited us and a few friends recently to celebrate her birthday. She wanted to do a “Southern potluck.” I offered to bring gumbo, fried chicken, corn bread and a few other miscellaneous items. “You nut,” Heather responded. “It’s not a potluck if you make everything!”

Heather & her julep

Ultimately I settled on buttermilk fried chicken wings and mangalitsa lard-infused corn bread. And, to drink, mint juleps. More

An Ode to Joe’s

Sometimes I feel like eating a cuisine I’m not particularly good at, or don’t have the cupboard resources to roll out on a dime. Chinese food is one example — if I ever want to feel inadequate as a cook, I’ll try to make a Chinese dinner. Same with Indian. I can could a reasonably good generic curry, but am lacking the encyclopedic pantry of spices and unusual ingredients to go much further. Fortunately, my cravings for either of these two cuisines is rare, and when need strikes I can usually survive on the occasional take out. I’m mostly satisfied with my repertoire, and will leave the meins and masalas to the experts. Or, I eat Trader Joe’s.

Palak paneer with Malabari paratha from TJ's

I get annoyed when I meet people from the East Coast who ask whether we have Trader Joe’s on the West Coast. More

Indian Chewing Gum

Every spring, our hillsides in California are covered with a misting of glorious, delicate yellow flowers — wild mustard. Perhaps this is where we got our name, The Golden State.

When I was a child, someone introduced me to “Indian chewing gum.” Once summer had baked the leafless mustard plants into chalky white skeletons, you could break open the main stalk and inside was a kind of foamy, chewy dried pith. It had no flavor, but did have a pleasant chewiness, at least for the first few seconds before it became mushy and/or got jammed up in between your teeth where you couldn’t get it out. More

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