I am following up my grumpy salute to summer with a peaceful wish to all of you for autumn, and a pice of news.Read More
Hello, I’d like to introduce myself. I am the original Summer Grump.
I don’t really enjoy summer, and I’ve never kept it a secret. I spend much of it with my fist in the air, cursing the heat, humidity and my rising electric bill. The city has a way of giving summer a sinister edge, as the concrete, brick and steel spit out heat with unrelenting cruelty. The subway platforms feel like the mouth of hell itself. For three solid months, most New Yorkers walk around looking like damp, unmade beds. Eeew.Read More
If you are someone who thinks strawberries are one of the best things about summer, then you may also think shortcake is the best way to enjoy the local crop. I am doubly blessed by being so close to the Hudson River Valley; not only do we have fantastic, juicy, bright-red Tri-Star strawberries, we can find them at the farmer’s market right through September if the weather is right.
I’m one of those people who goes deep into shortcake over any other strawberry desert. I’ll admit it: the carb component draws me in just as much as the fruit does. But I'm persnickety on this point. The shortcake has to be done right or it's a deal-breaker.Read More
I was going to file this recipe under the Fix A Stupid Mistake category, but it turned more into a Happy Accident kind of thing. Technically, I don’t have a Fix A Stupid Mistake category here, and it would be a bit humiliating to actually start one.
I bought a full pint of blueberries, stuck them in my fruit drawer and then, three days later, bought another pint of blueberries, because, well, duh. That’s what I get for trying to keep my fridge organized.Read More
I have a Sunday morning ritual that begins after I've read the paper. I linger late in bed and look at kitchens on Houzz, gazing at marble islands, double wall ovens, huge farm sinks and pricey gas ranges. Afterwards, I’m filled with a mélange of joy, sadness, regret and Bloody Mary mix. Someday I’ll have that Aga stove, I tell myself again and again…
The reality is that I am stuck with my dinky apartment kitchen for the foreseeable future. You’ve seen the picture of my kitchen, right? If not, it is on the “About” page; click on over and take in the all the splendor of its 4-foot expanse, with 12 inches of counter space and a stove that won’t light without an intense ritual of chanting, arm waving and huff-a-puffing.Read More
There was a video that went viral last week, of a cat getting a horrible fright from an English cucumber. Poor kitty, I understand completely.
There’s plenty to love about an English or hothouse cucumber – the skin is tender so you don’t have to peel it, there are fewer seeds that are smaller and easy to scrape out, and if cucumbers tend to repeat on you, this variety minimizes that effect.
But there’s no escaping the sheer size of one of those things. It is daunting, for cats and for cooks, unless you are consistently feeding a crowd.Read More
Why yes, that’s right. It’s me. Back from my break, I think. Happy Independence Day!
I should probably explain my absence, but I'd rather let things remain a little mysterious.
I’ll reveal this much: I needed a break, from cooking, writing and picture-taking for this space. I had stuff to tend to, people to see, life to ponder, and just some general crap to sort out. It happens.Read More