We finally leave 5th avenue, and Eataly and walk east to Lexington avenue. Once Niv and I arrive, I walk around in stunned silence. I don’t know the definition of superstore, nor can I be bothered to look it up. But assuming words were open to interpretation, and I say they are…. I would call...
I make no bones about my love and admiration for Food52.com. Not only does it function as a wonderful community with great recipes, but the people behind the recipes are totally real people, not virtual/scary strangers! Once I made up my mind to spend some time in New York, I ‘dialled’ the hotline, Food52’s Q&A...
The orange lights on the ground twinkle like sparkling jewels as we make our descent, welcoming me to New York. My ears fill up, the pressure difference makes them stuffed while the road down below winds in long stretches with mobile jewels, the cars beneath forming a long, long necklace, it’s almost like a Broadway...
City of 850 people, or would that be town? It’s been wonderful to get to know you. To see your love for watermelons, even though I didn’t get to try any.
I heard the call over the public address system at the store while getting lunch – ‘sweet Utah scones, with different toppings’….and I needed no encouragement – field work has a way of making you hungry and these will satisfy any sugar cravings, and squash that feeling of homesickness that is slowly creeping up on...
New discoveries are the reason why I love travel. Culinary and otherwise, they show me the world and I have a long, long way to go. Colorado has brought me face to face with my first corn dogs. I haven’t tasted them yet but I now know what they look like!
These were the very first things I baked. And by that I mean the very first thing I baked as an adult. Adulthood haven being attained with marriage and childbirth. Sure I’d baked the odd cake, cookie even as a child, but none of those count in the newness of being that is adulthood. Something...
I’ve got my arms around something. Its butter! But not just any kind of butter. And no, not sticks. Its real butter. Homemade butter. Le beurre fait maison.
I am three times a lady. I want you to remember that. No matter what you read in the coming minutes, just think ‘Three times a lady’. Time one – I have ‘trained’ myself to wear 6-inch heels, with little fear of tragedy a la sprained ankles and I can actually walk in them. Time...