Kitchen 1:Twenty years ago my kitchen was first renovated. It was a big job and involved sacrificing a bedroom and pantry to create a bright, open room that flowed from kitchen to dining room to deck. In addition to increased natural light, the remodel expanded my counter work area and storage space inspiring many dinner … Continue reading A tale of three kitchens
After days of the most bizarre of circumstances and events, I felt mentally shot. I was exhausted in every imaginable way and, by the time Friday afternoon rolled around I was done. Done. Of course, I couldn’t go directly home. There are always errands to be run and once I am home, I’m not leaving … Continue reading Just a normal weekend
Twenty-five years ago I went to Italy for the first time. It was my honeymoon and we intended to spend a couple of days in the Lake Como area as part of our five week trip. We were about 2 weeks into our vacation, having already visited rainy Ireland and soggy Germany, when we drove … Continue reading My first focaccia
Airbnb has been my got-to for accommodations abroad for the last 4 or 5 years, I’d say. Basically, if I’m going to spend more than two nights somewhere, I want to have the amenities that make a stay feel more like a home - kitchen facilities, perhaps or lounging space when I’m traveling with friends … Continue reading Baking with Kate – an Airbnb experience
The first time I made challah bread was a snowy day at the beginning of a staycation week. I found a recipe that seemed manageable, gathered together my ingredients and tuned to a jazz station on my Apple Music. I was ready, with a reasonable degree of seriousness, to take on the challenge. Baking intimidates … Continue reading The first time – challah bread
When I carried a two pound loaf of Genovese style pannetone and a dozen bagels in a bag topped with a single bialy around the city, I knew I had to acknowledge how much I sincerely love bread. It might just be my favorite food group and it definitely would be my desert island wish. … Continue reading Bread. Alone.
I don’t remember what made me buy the first one. Despite my mother’s German origins, it wasn’t as if fruit cake was part of my holiday traditions. As a matter of fact, I had distinct and negative memories of an episode involving fruitcakes baked in November, and left to soak in rum until Christmas, and … Continue reading Ode to panettone