I cook because I love to eat. I garden because I love to cook.
I am hesitant to talk about the current state of my garden in the same way that when traveling I don’t discuss the traffic, lest a sea of red taillights appears around the next bend in the highway. I don’t want to jinx anything. But …
Some of the happiest days of my youth were at overnight camp. Camp Onas became an integral part of my childhood, adolescence, and development. I was a camper for five years from age 9 to 14 and a staff member for five more beyond that. …
I am thankful that during the heat wave currently enveloping the eastern United States I have air conditioning in my car. As a child, that was never the case. To fit three rambunctious boys in the back seat, our cars were always the size of …
When my children, Ariana and Jacob, were eight and ten years old we frequented a small Italian restaurant in town for the year or two it was open. It was by no means a fancy establishment, but they served solid food and had a pasta …
My maternal grandmother, Jeanette, was hardly a vision of health. She smoked, did not exercise, and ate lots of traditional Jewish foods and baked goods that one would never classify as nutritious. When we drove to visit her in Atlantic City from our home in …
Many years ago, before children, my wife Marci and I took a trip to Mexico. Our trip was not a resort vacation, sitting on the beach in Cancún. Rather, we were there to see the country and eat the food, knowing we would only be …
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 …
