I cook because I love to eat. I garden because I love to cook.
In the early to mid-1970s when I was about seven my parents first rented a cabin with a handful of other families not far from Kutztown in Pennsylvania Dutch Country. Each family would get their own weekend about once a month throughout the year and …
When my wife Marci was pregnant many years ago, she had morning sickness; the aliens growing inside her refused to let certain foods go down and caused others to come back up. And then there were items she could not get enough of. With my …
It’s early April and the weather is conflicted. Some days give a hint of what’s to come; warm and sunny, with birds squawking to attract mates and protect their territories. Other days are cold and dreary. Not snow-filled, but rainy and gray, and chilly to …
I was recently sifting my way through a plastic shoebox that contained three recipe card boxes, piles clipped from newspapers, and other loose recipes. I assumed they were entirely Jeanette’s, my maternal grandmother’s, however, they could not have all been hers. The cards were written …
The other day while I was searching for an archived document on very old floppy disks, I came across recordings of my son, Jacob, singing nursery rhymes. They were adorable. He must have been about two years old. Of course, it made me think about …
As a very young child, my daughter Ariana was the meanest teacher around. She loved to play school with a pointer and easel, standing in front of the class made up of my wife Marci, my son Jacob, and me. She wielded the stick dangerously, …
As I took my daily walk on this early February morning, I couldn’t help but notice the green stalks of spring flowers already peeking through the ground. It left me conflicted. On the one hand I love that spring – my favorite time of the …
I thought I had the perfect, original recipe; one that no one else had thought of, let alone posted online or to social media. But it was not to be. As I mark the sixth anniversary of Max’s Kitchen and Garden this month, I think …
When I was a five- or six-year-old kid, my father occasionally took my two older brothers and I to the Palestra, the arena that opened in 1927 at the University of Pennsylvania, to see Big 5 college basketball games. We would wander in, find our …
When I was a little kid, my parents occasionally had parties. They weren’t too frequent because my father was usually in bed by 8:30 pm. But when they did occur, it was often a fundraiser for some candidate for local political office or an impromptu …
