San Francisco synopsis with stockpot and soup
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A week in the Bay Area has come and gone, and I’m back in my long black Neo-esque wool coat, lugging groceries home in the Seattle rain, fin...
On Christmas, crab, and carousing
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Membership in my family comes with a crash course in the local food vernacular. There’s no printed thesaurus (yet), but it all makes sense i...
2004 Food Blog Awards
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Very dear readers of Orangette: The year draws to a close with good news. My little blog is one of five finalists for the "Best Food Bl...
Mussels, wine, and an excuse to eat whipped cream
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Everything I said about her is true, and more. Kate is dreamy, and so are her mussels—so tender! So sweet! So cheap! So full of crabs!It was...
Cubic zirconia
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Oh, the tenacious grumpiness that is mine! Everything is a muted gray, inside and out; nothing bad—just subdued, monochromatic. And it's...
With my own two hands
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Some nights were made for Jeff Buckley and my stove—many nights, in fact, and especially when the city is draped in a misty, blue-gray cloak...
Il faut cultiver notre jardin
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“Pangloss disait quelquefois à Candide: ‘Tous les événements sont enchaînés dans le meilleur des mondes possibles; car enfin, si vous n’avie...
Granola: when darkness looms, or anytime
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Winter in the Pacific Northwest means dusk at 3:30 in the afternoon, with sunset around 4:15. Six in the evening might as well be midnight. ...
Two years
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You may have heard me speak of my dad: the man I called “Burg,” the one who took me to Paris for the first time when I was only ten, introdu...
Another excuse to talk biscuits
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This Thanksgiving, the focus wasn't on the ritual turkey and stuffing; it was on a wedding engagement. After all, my (half-)brother Davi...