I cook because I love to eat. I garden because I love to cook.
I used to think of cilantro as a hot weather crop. That’s because it is ubiquitous in food from the Tropics; sprinkled over Thai dishes; an essential component of Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches; the base of some Indian chutneys; and I wouldn’t make Mexican guacamole …
One summer in the late 1970s, when I was young and my brothers and I were away at overnight camp, my parents took a trip to Mexico. My father came back wanting to make two things: sandals and refried beans. For years we had boxes …
As the days get longer, the air warmer, and the early morning birds louder, I start to think of my garden. I think of seeds germinating and the first leaves emerging from the soil in the early spring sun. I think of the time I …
In my junior and senior years in college, I was a member of a couple of different cooking groups. About four or five different people, each cooking one night a week. It provided a meal much healthier than the college cafeteria, saved time and money, …
All I remember about eating breakfast at home as a kid is 1) a distinct paucity of sugary cereals, which probably led to 2) French toast with syrup and cinnamon sugar. I also vaguely remember my parents trying to sneak wheat germ into things like …
