When I was working on the Ad Hoc at Home cookbook with Thomas Keller and Dave Cruz, they showed me this excellent method of chopping chives. Wrap a bundle of chives in a damp folded towel and then cut. It solves two problems: you don’t crush them as you can when they rest flat on the board; and you don’t wind up with long strings of half-cut chive where they knife didn’t go all the way through. You end up with PERFECT chives. It’s also cleaner generally. I love this technique. If you liked this post, read: My past post on drying herbs from your garden. Spillover from the bacon photo: bake some cheddar, bacon, and chive biscuits. Anna Hewitt discusses making container herb gardens for those who lack space or are city dwellers. Making candied herbs shared Read On »
Posts Categorized: aromatics
I am normally straight at you like a knife, cocktailwise. A martini is gin with vermouth you can taste, and a twist. Period. Either there is no other martini or the name doesn’t mean anything. (I refuse to back down on this one, sorry. I like vodka, I own vodka, I drink vodka, but vodka and vermouth is a stupid drink with an appropriately stupid name.) I want plenty of bitters in my Manhattan. After the martini, there’s no better drink than an old-fashioned. So you’d think I’d pooh-pooh infusing decent spirits with shit from my herb garden. And I did. Until a new pal made Donna a gimlet with basil-infused gin. And he made a delicious summer cocktail with cantaloupe and basil-infused tequila. Basil is in full growth now, and it takes only a Read On »
A confession: I’m not a great cooker of fish. In fact, Donna hates it when I cook fish, because I usually want to put some kind of fancy sauce on it. She wants it sautéed with plain lemon, a little butter maybe. (Yawn.) But she’s usually right—I don’t cook it often enough to get good at it. But another part of the reason I’m fish challenged is that I grew up in Cleveland in the 1970s where fish came into the grocery store on Monday (trucked in, no doubt) and sat around through Saturday, which was the only time in Cleveland you could get a good sense of what low tide smells like. The only fish I ate, and ate grudgingly, was breaded, fried, frozen, and reheated in a toaster oven, and I was able Read On »
Probably Emilia’s most favorite breakfast dish around, made of tortillas, salsa, onions, and cheese, via WSJ.
Tuesday or Wednesday is usually soup day here, as it was last week when Donna’s sister, Regina, was here for Cakes 101, to teach me cake basics and all about the creams and curds that fill a cake and give it flavor. I wanted to be able to show what a proper cake could look like in the book we’re currently working on, and as Regina bakes wedding and special-occasion cakes in the Hudson Valley, we brought her in for a working visit. We spend Thanksgiving with Donna’s family in Germantown, NY, and last year Regina had two big pots of soup on the stove as the family converged on the house, one of which was so beloved by my daughter that I asked Regina to make it while she was here. She asked only Read On »