I am neither Irish nor Italian. But I can think of few things more satisfying alone than potatoes, and stock-simmered arborio rice. And together? Holy matrimony. “Satisfy” is not the word.
Our new president is a well-traveled, well-cultured man. Just take a look at the lede to this New York Times story to scratch the tip of the iceberg: “The president’s elderly stepgrandmother brought him an oxtail fly whisk, a mark of power at home in Kenya. Cousins journeyed from the South Carolina town where the first lady’s great-great-grandfather was born into slavery, while the rabbi in the family came from the synagogue where he had been commemorating Martin Luther King’s … Read More
To repeat a joke my brother once made when I was in the same situation, I’ve got a lot of thyme on my hands. Fresh thyme. Which means it’s going bad soon. It took a while for me to place why I’d gotten the large stash of spindles tucked away in my crisper drawer (oh right, those squash-stuffed Jamaican-style patties) today. I’ve got a lot of the dried kind, too. If only time were as plentiful as my thyme, then … Read More
Ah, summer. These are the only reasons I stick it out in New York the rest of the year. It all began with my first summer here, as a wide-eyed, twenty-year-old college sophomore. It was every bit the definition of “salad days” – living in Alphabet City with my best friend in an apartment we rented ridiculously cheap because it was owned by her family friends, romping around the Village and Lower East Side, sometimes successfully sneaking into bars, sometimes … Read More
Warning: If you make this at your next barbecue, your vegetarian friends may want to stand up on the picnic table and leap into your arms, proclaiming forever best friendship. I don’t know this from actual experience, but I can only imagine, after many summers of seeing glum-looking vegetarians skulking from the greasy-smelling fume clouds, nervously glancing at raw ground meat and drippy hot dog packages in the way that one cannot resist looking at a bug after squashing it … Read More
Today marked the first two of hopefully many bike laps of Prospect Park I’ll ride this year. I fear the flab. I really do. It also marked an occasion for some gentler, fresher, milder and lighter fare that I’ll hopefully see much more of this year. Thin-crust pizza that more resembles a salad with breadsticks? Yes, please. Even if it involves few more than three ingredients and a seriously scant amount of cheese, I’m still calling it a pizza now … Read More
Darn unstoppable cravings. I’ve been hungrier for more things than ever this past month or so, and I don’t know why. I’m fairly certain there’s no chance I’m pregnant unless an alien abducted me during sleep. I’ve been cooking away at a happy clip for about a year and a half now, not worrying too much about troublesome conversions of restaurant to home-cooked foods. Not missing too many of the ones that I hadn’t yet tried to make. And then … Read More
This is the kind of comfort food that I’m talking about when I talk about comfort food — hearty, uncomplicated, slow-cooked and pleasantly easy on your tastebuds. Only I’m not talking about any comfort food from my own sensory memory. This one belongs to Arthur Schwartz, as told in his new cookbook, Jewish Home Cooking: Yiddish Recipes Revisited.