I cook because I love to eat. I garden because I love to cook.
Have you ever watched a teenage boy eat? It’s amazing – and a little revolting – to see how much food they can stuff inside their body. They go to the refrigerator, stand with the door wide open, and eat whatever is in sight. As …
With three young boys each separated by roughly two years, my parents always gave us chores to do. There were weekend duties, cleaning specific rooms of the house, for example, and those we did on a daily basis. Daily responsibilities primarily revolved around dinner; setting …
I was a messy eater as a little kid. In practically every photo of me as a child, my face is dirty, often covered with food. I have no idea why my parents didn’t believe in napkins. The long-term fallout has proven minor, but I …
After my first year of college, I decided to move out of the dorm. I still lived in a college-owned house with a handful of other students, but I was free of the dorm’s noisy hallways and the cafeteria that came with it. I relished …
My wife sometimes calls me the Angry Chef. I guess it’s a nickname well deserved, but only from my past. Our first apartment together, in the early days, was the entire second floor of an old Victorian house on Long Island. We had a small …
Growing up, dinners in our house were on a schedule that repeated weekly. Tuesday and Thursday, refried beans and tortillas. Wednesday, homemade pizza. Friday was almost always chicken, either at one of my grandmothers’ apartments or cooked by my father. I have no recollection what …
My father cooked all manner of food when I was growing up. His baba ganouj was garlicky and smooth, a perfect dip brought to many a party. We ate his brisket, fall apart tender, every Passover. He never purchased store-bought salad dressing; a jar of …
In my youth I can’t say that I was a fan of mushrooms. I would never eat them outright. If someone insisted on a pizza with mushrooms, I would reluctantly manage, although pizza-topping mushrooms back then were mostly wet, slimy, canned things, with little to …
It was early spring and snow still blanketed the ground, melting a little during the warmer daylight hours and freezing again when the sun sank below the horizon. I had a craving for Chicken with Hoisin Sauce, a Chinese stir fry I made on repeat …
When we visit my parents in Philadelphia, we always go out to our favorite Chinese restaurant, Lee How Fook. We’ve been dining there literally for decades. They immediately bring a pot of hot tea for the table, and for my mother, without asking, a pot …
