Gabby

My parents started sending me to overnight camp when I was eight or nine years old. Hoofbeat Ridge was an all-girls horse-back riding camp set on more than 100 acres of clover fields. Buttressing the entrance to camp were two massive hills joined together by a sharp valley. The hills were covered with cross country……

One time I ate a meal

I’ll be turning 35 this month, which means I’ve eaten roughly 38,325 meals over the course of my lifetime. Some have been rote and unimpressive. I went through a streak in college where I survived off of wet spaghetti and turkey sandwiches that tasted like cardboard. Others have been more memorable. * One time I……

To render

The other week I found myself in a cooking pickle. I’d ordered 12 pounds of oxtails for a dinner I was catering. When the delivery arrived, I opened one of the boxes to find three giant oxtails frozen together. Each piece was about three feet long and rigid with freezer burn and rigor mortis. I……

How to take care

I collapsed into the stiff-backed wooden chair. We’d been driving all day. As the coastline receded in the rearview mirror and our little green Fiat climbed higher toward the island’s core, my mind ruminated over that thing I search for three times a day, that ephemeral, ecstatic feeling of stumbling into sustenance. The hostess appeared……

Side towels

In culinary school, we had a strict uniform policy: White jacket, black shoes, black socks, white toque. Every day we were to report to class dressed in uniform with two side towels tucked into the strings of our white aprons. The side towels were green with white stitching. They looked clean and crisp against the……

Notebook pasta

I was flipping through old notebooks and found this recipe scribbled down in smudged black ink. There’s no date on the journal entry. Boil a 4 qt pot of pasta water. Salt generously. Thinly slice 3 cloves of garlic. In a skillet, gently heat 2T XVO. Add garlic. Watch it dance. After a min or……

A new you

I’ve been reading a lot of newsletters and social media posts from people who are flipping the proverbial bird to 2019. These pronouncements flow in tandem with marketing malarkey promising to deliver The New You, prompting me to wonder: What was wrong with The Old Me? I understand the impulse to flip the bird to……

A fleeting beauty : Chive and gruyere soufflé

I am not much of a planner. I tend to do things at last minute. I write these blog posts the day before they’re due. I cook dinner based off whatever I can find in the fridge and pantry. When I travel, although I will do some research ahead of time, I prefer to ask……

The Holidays : Riso bollito

The Holidays. The words hang heavy around my neck, like a noose. As I kid, I remember the thrill that coursed through my body during the month of December. The idea that someone was tiptoeing around the house leaving me a trail of gifts was more than my tiny little heart could bear. One Christmas……

A cold drink : Ashraf’s lemonade

I met Heather and Ashraf through Heather’s brother, Chris. He and I were colleagues in a small business workshop a couple years ago, and he hired me to cook for Heather and Ashraf as a gift. I went on a Saturday morning and forgot to confirm my arrival time. I knocked on their apartment door……