I love a great chip, don’t you? Potato chips, veggie chips, corn chips and tortilla chips. Chips with ridges, kettle-cooked, salt and vinegar, black pepper, nacho-cheese and barbecued – I have enjoyed my fair share of chips and dips over the years.
Deflate-gate, the unexpected and sudden loss of a beloved member of our food community and the snowpocalypse that wasn’t (at least in New York) – it’s not a stretch to say that it’s been a roller-coaster couple of weeks. I had planned to post this recipe much sooner in the month but sometimes life happens and well, here we are.
The Professor and I have been on the road quite a bit this summer; in fact, we’ve been on the move since March and still have a few more shoots to complete before the year is finished. It’s been a wild spring and summer but we just wouldn’t have it any other way.
While I love a great pastry for breakfast and occasionally dessert, when it comes to snacks, I tend to land on the side of salty. And while there are a plethora of cookbooks on the market for all things sugary and sweet, the field is much smaller when it comes to savory. Salty Snacks by Cynthia Nims, is a book that feeds America’s love affair with salt.
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Musical pairing – Holy Moses by Washington
This is one of those recipes I’ve wanted to share for a couple of years now; the anticipation of fall and the harvesting of concord grapes makes me feel nothing less than giddy. But Concord grape season is short, my attention span is short and one of three things has happened: (a) I completely miss said Concord grape season, (b) I remember Concord grape season but can’t find any at my local store and (c) by some miracle I actually remember Concord grape season, find said Concord grapes and make this fabulous recipe . . . but then I forget to take photos . . .
There’s a picture of my family that was taken at my sister’s home in Arizona, December 2000; it was the last Christmas we would have with my dad who died from cancer September 7th, 2001, just four days before 9/11. It sits on my grandmother’s silverware chest – fitting because it belongs to my father’s mother and also because it sits in the dining room – the room where meals are shared at big family gatherings as well as small intimate dinners with friends. And there is a full view into the kitchen – the place where, for me, I’m completely in the zone – happy, content, peaceful . . . at home.