Unreasonable amounts of everything, and pea soup
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When one of your (half-)brothers is a restaurateur, paying him a visit means consuming quite a bit of good food. When one of your (half-)bro...
The sweet and the sour
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“Will you bring dessert?”Now that is one of my favorite questions to be asked. It’s right up there with “Can I kiss you?” and “You’re from O...
Praise for the pig
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Here in Seattle, something is going on. Sunlight is pouring in through my bedroom window at an obscenely early hour (sunrise: 6:05 am), daff...
9 am Sunday: sugar and shortbread
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When my former employer Rebecca and her gay husband Jimmy promised another buttery breakfast, they meant business.As I learned in the Dutch ...
My mother and eggs, à la française
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My mother loves Paris. This should not surprise you; after all, I’ve already made it clear that she is a genius.She speaks nary a word of Fr...
She cooks, she tells
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Dear reader, exciting things are afoot, and it's not just that I've baked two loaves of bread, a deadly chocolate cake, a buttermilk...
On social theory, theses, and drastic measures involving cookies
by test , at 8:18 PM , have 0
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It’s that time again. Behold a reprise of geekiness.I’m a sucker for social theory. Really, there's nothing sexier than the name “Michel...
On heresy and bouchons au thon
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My French host mother was tall, trim, and proper, with a sing-song voice and a name that skipped and chimed and rang off the tongue. She mov...
“No better life than the good life”
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It was a birthday celebration Nicho-style, with a rousing hike among towering trees, plenty of guffawing, an afternoon rest in a sunny hammo...