Trotter

I was in the kitchen making breakfast for the kids when my wife came in with an alarmed look on her face.

“Charlie Trotter died.”

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The name stalled in my head, it took me a moment to process the news. And then I was hit with a wave of shock: Charlie Trotter, the boyish Chicago chef whose smiling face grinned out at me from three or four cookbooks in my collection. More

Further Dispatches from the Burger Front

I’m at war with myself.

In the past, I’ve made some great burgers — burgers that have won praises, burgers that have pushed the boundaries of the possible… burgers that have brought grown men to tears.

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And yet, still, I am not satisfied.

There is always a better burger out there. And in here (pointing to my heart). I have but to find it, or to draw it out from within. More

Halloween & the Revenge of the New Soy Technology

It was, once again, time for the annual Halloween carnival at my kids’ elementary school. And once I again, I was asked to make vegetarian chili.

The author in taco costume with friend Lucy at the Halloween carnival, 2012

The author as Señor Taco with friend Lucy at the Halloween carnival, 2012

As I mentioned in my last New Soy Technology post, my vegetarian chili was gaining a following. My pal Ernie had recently suggested I make it for the Topanga Chili Cook-Off — he was a judge last year. (Actually, now that I recall, I was supposed to be a judge too, but was out of town.)

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The Devil Is in the Details

They’re one of the all-time cliché potluck contributions — deviled eggs. But the convergence of a party invitation from our neighbors Chris & Glennis’  with a surplus of eggs from our 20-some-odd chickens proved to be more of a temptation than I could resist. You could say the devil possessed me.

Catalan deviled eggs

Catalan deviled eggs

The first time I’d done something like this was for one of my fancy XX-course New Year’s Eve dinners — a version a few years back with a Spanish theme. I created a deviled egg of sorts, the hard-boiled yolk blended not with mayonnaise and Dijon mustard but rather with those pillars of Spanish cooking: lots of olive oil, garlic and pimentón. More

Tuesdays with Donnie

I never read the book, “Tuesdays with Morrie.” It sounded sort of depressing. Plus, I have my own more festive, culinary version. I have Tuesdays with Donnie!

Donnie & his saké on a Tuesday evening.

Donnie & his saké on a Tuesday evening.

It all started one particular Tuesday, when I ran into Don and Monica Schneider at school. They’re two of our favorite people, and we hadn’t socialized with them in awhile. “I know it’s Tuesday,” Don said, “But do you guys wanna do dinner tonight?” More

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