I cook because I love to eat. I garden because I love to cook.
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 …
Kids are not easy, even when they’re no longer kids. My children, currently 19 and 21, are home from college because of the coronavirus pandemic. At times they have reverted to their former selves circa ages 6 and 8. They bicker and fight with each …
I come from a family of Chinese food snobs. We would never be caught at a strip mall take-out joint or a restaurant with hanging lanterns. In college, I would announce to friends with great authority that it was impossible to find truly authentic Chinese …
