The Tomato Bank

Sometimes in life you stumble upon an odd confluence of food and commerce. And more often than not, the Japanese are behind it. Witness the business I noticed today on a sojourn to L.A.’s Little Osaka to pick up some fish: The Tomato Bank.

Happy customer leaving the Tomato Bank

I’m not sure I would feel confident entrusting my savings to the Tomato Bank. But maybe that’s not what kind of bank it is. More

Our First Anniversary!

On August 7, 2010, I launched Skinny Girls & Mayonnaise — exploding out the gate with eight posts on that single day. Four more came the following day. I guess you could say they’d be welling up inside of me for awhile.

It’s been a great year of cooking, philosophizing, marketing, experimenting and writing about it all. And sharing it. More

A Kitchen Story

I always enjoy hearing stories of what brought people to their passions for food. My grandfather cooked on a train during the Depression. That’s all I know of that story. Although it provides a good prelude to my own.

The author at 13

My journey into food began, I suppose, as so many do: at my mother’s apron. The house always smelled good, and the kitchen was warm and inviting. More

The World’s Healthiest Things and Me

I eat my fair share of salt-cured pork products. I like sprinkling my food liberally with flaky sea salt. I enjoy rib eye steaks, and I’m a fan of potato chips and ice cream. But I also eat a good amount of some of the world’s healthiest things. And not because I should, but because I like them.

sardines

More

The Accidental Beekeepers

Shortly after we moved into our house in Topanga a few years back, I bought an owl house. I had read that attracting owls to your property was one of the best ways to keep the rodent population in check. Barn owls will eat two to three rodents a night; a nesting pair with chicks up to 10 a night — that’s over 3,000 a year! So I climbed high in the oak tree outside our bedroom window and secured the owl house onto a branch.

Our honey

It took about a year before an owl moved in. It was the tiniest owl you’d ever seen — no match for an angry vermin. It stayed about 10 days. Every night, it would hoot away merrily in its owl box, sounding confident it had found the best house in the neighborhood. But disappointed, I suspect, with its inability to attract a mate to its new digs, it departed. That’s when the bees moved in. More

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