Friday, April 27, 2012
Hunger
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Breakfasts of Champions
I have a problem. My kid won't eat breakfast foods. It drives me crazy -- forget cereal, or toast (even with the lure of Nutella), or yogurt, or eggs, or waffles, or really anything representative of North American breakfast. No, she insists on savories for breakfast: leftover pizza, soup, mac and cheese, Chinese food, etc. Which is fine if I have that stuff around, but a world of frustration if I don't.
Friday, April 20, 2012
My Butcher

I ended up in Paris; I was no fool. The first time was in 1995. Ex and I had the great good luck of renting an apartment in the Fifth Arrondissement.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Sai Bhaji in New York
Clockwise from upper left: masoor dal, channa dal, toor dal, moong dal. Click to enlarge. |
Friday, April 13, 2012
Cardamoms and Madhu Aunty
My mother has eight sisters and two brothers. Had, I suppose -- one of the brothers, the eldest child, died early in life, and one sister died in her twenties and her passing is felt, still, as a fresh wound by her siblings fifty years later. And recently, another of the sisters passed away -- my aunt Madhu. This is a story about her.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Samothrace
When I was in my second year of graduate school, the director of my program took a liking to me. He was an archaeologist out of central casting, a vague man, painfully shy, and determined to keep himself locked in an ivory tower. He had a funny laugh, though, and a good heart. I liked him, too.
Every year he would take a group of students to work on a dig that he directed on the island of Samothrace, the same site where the Winged Victory (the Nike of Samothrace) had been discovered in 1863. The dig was known as the Club Med of the archeology world because of the luxurious conditions for the students. I had no experience with archaeology, or even ancient art, but the director looked at me with a twinkle in his eye when I said I'd like to go and said, "I always say that if I have to choose between smart and nice, I'll always choose nice." And lo, I was accepted onto the crew.
Every year he would take a group of students to work on a dig that he directed on the island of Samothrace, the same site where the Winged Victory (the Nike of Samothrace) had been discovered in 1863. The dig was known as the Club Med of the archeology world because of the luxurious conditions for the students. I had no experience with archaeology, or even ancient art, but the director looked at me with a twinkle in his eye when I said I'd like to go and said, "I always say that if I have to choose between smart and nice, I'll always choose nice." And lo, I was accepted onto the crew.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Doubt
This blog started by accident: set up in ten minutes as a place to post recipes that my Facebook pals were asking for, a dumping ground more than anything. It's turned to something else pretty quickly, for better or worse. It's the "for worse" that I worry about: I imagine that I am the four millionth woman writing a food blog-slash-memoir, that I am, in other words, the worst cliché of middle-aged, suburban femininity. God, am I middle aged? God, am I suburban?
How did I get here?
How did I get here?
Friday, April 6, 2012
Inauthentic Taste
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Flin Flon and Comfort Food
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