I’m the kind of person who worries before going to dinner at someone else’s house if there’s going to be enough for me to eat. There’s no danger, by the way, of me wasting away. It’s just that I’m mostly vegetarian and also really picky so if I have to…
I ordered first, a cup of the creamy squash soup and a sandwich but, as usual, soon second-guessed myself. “You’re getting a bowl of soup and a sandwich?” I asked my husband Wayne, imagining him still enjoying his steaming bowl of velvety orange soup while I, saving a buck, would…
Ravioli are fussier than my usual fare—usually consisting of forgiving indelicate creations—but I wanted to try my hand at them, especially if I didn’t have to make my own pasta dough. (Someday I will get a pasta machine, but maybe not until I have a kitchen large enough to accommodate…
My husband, Wayne, and I disagree on broth. He claims that the key to excellent broth is long simmered chicken bones and parts. Or those of beef or pork. I’ll admit that plenty of world culinary history backs up his contention. Still, because I don’t eat chicken, beef or pork,…
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