Kitchen Catastrophe

When I was a younger cook, I was more prone to kitchen disasters of either of three varieties — the huge mess, the ill-conceived flavor combination, or the flesh wound. With age, experience and wisdom has come the know-how to avoid most kitchen disasters in any of those categories. But every once in a while, I get broadsided by a new ingredient, tool or technique. And discover that disaster is never far at bay. More

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Skinny Girls Live!

A few nights ago, we had our first Skinny Girls & Mayonnaise live event. A happy hour party co-hosted at the children’s clothing store called “Pebbles” owned by our pals, Annie and Vince.

Come On, Be Happy! Hour co-host with polenta, sausage & salsa pomodoro

Now, you may reasonably point out that a children’s clothing store is not the most appropriate place for an alcohol-fueled feast. But actually, it fit in quite nicely with our philosophy about food and lifestyle. More

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

Nanny Lunch

We have a new nanny. My wife and I say to each other, “Well, she’s better than nothing.” And we mean it — she is, actually, better than nothing.

B-grade nanny lunch

It’s hard to find a good nanny. Our previous nanny, Karina, was with us for seven years. She was the only nanny my two oldest children, Flynn and Willa, ever knew during their early years. Our third child Imogen has, at age 21 months, already had five. More

Jon

When I was in my 20s, I wrote a cookbook called “The Single Guy’s Cookbook & Guide to Entertaining.” My friend Mark (you may remember him as “Sidekick Mark” from previous posts) and I were at sushi one night talking about how impressive and economical it was to cook dinner for a date. Recite to her a little poetry you’d written with a glass of wine by the fire afterward, and she was yours. The recipes were simple and good, the advice intuitive… a book that was basically a guide for all those guys who burn toast or ruin a salad.

Jon's dinner

So it is with our friend Jon. Recently separated from his wife, he’s the guy who invites us over for dinner, and then asks what we’re having. He’s the guy who sends me pictures of what he’s preparing for dinner so I’ll feel sorry for him and invite him to our house instead. When his parents are in town visiting, he invites them to our house. He’s one of our favorite people and we love his kids, so we don’t mind. But I feel an almost philanthropic instinct to feed him. More

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