I cook because I love to eat. I garden because I love to cook.
When my children Jacob and Ariana were little, they used to spend a good amount of time hanging out in our bed. They would come on in the morning if we didn’t have to move too fast, especially on weekends. They might watch a little …
Growing up, every Tuesday and Thursday we ate Bert’s Beans for dinner. Refried beans that my father actually re-fried in a skillet with probably too much oil, we would wrap them in homemade tortillas and slather on hot sauce. As the refrying process neared its …
There are lots of things I never understood about the high school students I taught for 30 years. Chief among them was why they ate the pizza served in the school cafeteria. Long Island, where I live, is the land of excellent pizza. Virtually every …
We all make mistakes in the kitchen. Sometimes they are rookie moves, like the first time I roasted a turkey leaving the neck and bag of giblets inside. These novice errors can usually be chalked up to ignorance. How was I supposed to know they …
My friends Kathleen and Matt love to eat. Call them foodies or gourmands, they know how to enjoy a good meal and are partial to a nice bottle of wine. And they always want to share the food they eat and create with others. Hence …
Every Wednesday, starting in middle school, I made pizza. After school, I opened a package of yeast, got out the flour, and kneaded dough. While it was proofing, I simmered a can of tomato puree with garlic, oregano, basil, and sugar. I grated mozzarella, assembled …
I first started making dinner for my family when I was about twelve or thirteen years old. One of the first meals I made was pizza. Every Wednesday, I made two pizzas. I would come home from school, dissolve some yeast in warm water and …
When my son Jacob was about 11 or 12, we were visiting friends in Connecticut. Our last stop was a small park where during low tide you could walk out on the rocks and view Long Island Sound as the boats drifted by. As we …
