I love time alone, but it wasn’t just any other Thursday, it was Thanksgiving, and I realized I needed a house full of delicious smells, full of people, full of activity, full of .. something. And that was the last year I was alone.
What questions do you have about cooking or buying or preparing or hosting or going to Thanksgiving or how to set a table, or serve or wear? Ask away, because that’s what I’ll be answering over the next few weeks.
When Autumn rolls around, there are a few things we know to expect for sure: leaves fade to yellows and reds, and fall off their trees, sun dresses and flip flops get traded in for sweaters and boots, and pumpkin can be found in just about everything.
We’d arrived at Green Weekend -- far past when I’ve given up grabbing tomatoes or eggplants, past the point of weeding, when I’ve turned off the sprinklers at the spigot for the season. All my tomatillos and green tomatoes come in, destined for the yearly batch of green sauce.
Quickly a small brunch for five became a brunch for 15 as the rain brought all other weekend activities to a halt. But there is something intoxicatingly lovely about baking and cooking on a cold and rainy morning and feeding a crowd.
The following items have ridiculously high profit margins and are a terrible value. I am often stupefied at the ridiculous cost of some of these items when you and I know what they cost to make yourself.