Posts Tagged "Cream"


You might assume I eat a hearty breakfast, but I can’t handle food very early in the morning. When I was around 10 years old, I gave up drinking milk, but I don’t think I’m lactose-intolerant per se. When my daughters were in school, I bought into the “breakfast is the most important meal of the day” crap, so I generally provided them with a modest morning meal right up through high school. I also ate...

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When I was researching my original cookbook, I discovered that your basic traditional mincemeat pie was (of course, duh) made partially of meat. It usually had large amounts of beef suet as well, which was something I had usually relegated to bird feeders. I came across a recipe and made some modifications, which really means I omitted the meat and suet. However, the amount of alcohol in the filling made the whole thing—to be...

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I’m in print; now I’m famous.

I’m in print; now I’m famous.


Posted By on Sep 24, 2015

Not exactly. Well, I hadn’t intended to take a whole four months off for a summer vacation, but there it is. I did. Lest you think I was traveling the world or hanging around in some quiet resort, I will tell you that my summer started in June with a wedding. My younger daughter got married and I was her official wedding planner. I was relieved when she and her fiancé finally asked for help back in March. Fortunately, she was...

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I am putting aside my summertime blues, at least temporarily. One day long ago, as I was cruising the aisles at Costco (which is sort of the holiest of shrines for me), I spied a reasonably priced package containing two 32-ounce jars of artichoke hearts packed in water. I thought, fabulous; these will be really handy to have around to put in…well, something… And a year passed while the jars continued to sit on my pantry...

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Screaming?

Screaming?


Posted By on Jul 29, 2014

Oh, okay, you’re not screaming from some existential crisis, à la Edvard Munch, you’re just screaming for some ice cream. Or maybe you are indeed screaming about both. I often do, though I keep all the noise in my head; I don’t go around actually screaming. Maybe I should; isn’t that a type of therapy? Anyway…my first existential crisis took place when I was 20. During that summer of 1982, I spent six...

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