I dragged down all the “gifts from the kitchen” books I own last night to try to find some inspiration for holiday gift giving that is from the heart rather than from the pocketbook.
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Bon appetit, Julia, where ever you are. And I hope all the meals are prepared with the finest French butters and served with wine fit for the gods and for you.
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This weekend our experimenting turns to black rice. It isn’t dyed with squid ink or anything. It’s really that color.
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You know me. I buy organic groceries. I cook at home more than we eat out. I care about what goes into my body and my family’s bodies. You also know that I am addicted to coffee, especially mochas. My new temp assignment is in a building with a Starbucks on the ground floor.
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I would love to write about this wondrous dinner involving sauces and terrines and goddess knows what all that I prepared for our first real meal in our new home.
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my mother can burn water. she was not built or trained for housekeeping. her mother, my grandmother decided early on that she was destined for greater things and sent her off to school.
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last wednesday i made my way back to trinidad for the christmas holiday and the first thing on my agenda was a doubles.
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