As I opened the fridge last night, I saw left over potato pancakes (latkes) and a bowl of home-made applesauce staring at me. Once again, I made too many latkes and cooked more applesauce than Johnny Appleseed could stomach. 194 more words
Ever since I read Gabrielle Hamilton’s Blood, Butter and Bones, I’ve wanted to visit her East Village restaurant, Prune. After years of fame, she has still resisted opening another restaurant (Messrs. 510 more words
Time for some creative thinking.
Tons of garlic, moldy tomatoes, one aging white eggplant, fresh chili peppers that won’t last forever, about three sprigs of green parsley hiding beneath a few yellowing ones… the list goes on. 854 more words