Skinny Girls Bicentennial

I vaguely remember the American Bicentennial. I was a young kid, there were lots of patriotic advertisements on TV and specially minted quarters with a drummer on the back.

I’m pleased to have you here, celebrating the Skinny Girls Bicentennial — our 200th post! (Probably not exactly the right term for a 200th post, but what the heck.) When I first launched Skinny Girls & Mayonnaise a year and a half ago, I got 30 or 40 visitors on a good day, and 8 on a bad day. Now I get 50 on my worst days, and 250 on a good day. I guess that’s growth. 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

Feeding the Ghost of Steve McQueen

Fois gras ravioli with pickled fennel, shimeji mushrooms and marscapone cheese — at Chez McQueen

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Here’s the way I like to imagine it:

McQueen is out on the deck drinking his whisky, his khakis rolled up and his feet on the railing, watching the sea crash on the rocks just below. He’s surprised to find a stranger at his stove cooking, but only shrugs. After a bit he comes in to freshen his drink, and asks me what the hell I’m doing in his kitchen. More

A Girl of Two Islands

As you may know from various previous posts, I am a fan of the pork shoulder. It’s the biggest, least expensive cut of the pig — and the best. I’ve featured it slow smoked North Carolina-style by my neighbor Chris; I’ve featured it wrapped in banana leaves and slow roasted in the Yucatan Mexican style; and I’ve rubbed it with fennel and done my own Italian take on the grill. And here it is yet again, a glorious new guise, this preparation courtesy of my friend, Monica Schneider.

Monica tending her octopus.

Monica and her husband Don are full of life. They eat, drink and love with an unhinged abandon that I admire and enjoy having in my life. Monica is the product of two islands that share the commonality of living life with a certain unrestrained passion — the Dominican Republic and Ireland. More

Gettin’ Me Oyrish Up

You could say I’m well in touch with my Irish blood — I love cloudy days, I’ve been known to drink a bit, I’m given to song at the slightest provocation, I write poetry and tend to be sentimental and a bit melancholy. So St. Patrick’s Day is a more special holiday for me than it might for the average person.

One of the finest St. Patrick’s Days I ever spent was in Venice, Italy, with my sister Andrea. Wandering aimlessly, we happened to stumble upon a real Irish pub where we spent the evening with a couple from Ireland and an American GI and his mom. The exchange rate was strong, we realized each glass of vino rosso only cost .50 cents, and so we ordered half a dozen each and lined the table with them. The train ride the next day to Florence was a hard one. More

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