One of my missions in writing about food is to encourage more people to cook for their friends and families. Many, many people tell me, “I want to cook healthy affordable meals for my family, but I’m just so busy.” So, I did a post on staple meals, since staple meals, the ones you return to on a weekly basis, are defined by ease, speed, goodness of flavor, and economy. (Another of ours is tomato basil pasta—see the iPhone video of a cool tomato water technique.) The first thing you need to do to make it easy for your busy schedule is to plan! Have a plan. The above is one of our summer favorites, the same staple meal I posted about before, only on the grill. Especially great on hot nights when you don’t want Read On »

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  Michael is taking a break from the blog for 10 days. He remains, he says, “very grateful to the readers and especially to the commenters who have offered so much great thought, information, skepticism, and humor.” He hopes to be back a week from Wednesday, provided he does not lose his way, and until then is reposting some of the posts other readers have found useful. — Emilia  Spatchcocked Turkey Originally posted July 1, 2011 My daughter was born 16 years ago, June 4th, a Sunday. Two weeks later was Father’s Day. Having never been a father on Father’s Day, I took it easy. I’d finished the manuscript of my first book but hadn’t heard from my editor (I forget nothing, Bill!); I had no prospects and we were near broke. I grilled a turkey. Read On »

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My daughter was born 16 years ago, June 4th, a Sunday.  Two weeks later, was Father’s Day.  Having never been a father on Father’s Day, I took it easy. I’d finished the manuscript of my first book, but hadn’t heard from my editor (I forget nothing, Bill!); I had no prospects and we were near broke. I grilled a turkey. We’d gotten it free, a local grocery store giving out turkeys at Christmastime to loyal customers, and it had finally dawned on me earlier in the week that we ought to eat that thing.  By the time it thawed, well, it was Father’s Day. Donna was delirious from no sleep and both of us fretted over our first newborn—”Is it supposed to be black as tar?” “Honey, I think it’s falling off. What do we Read On »

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