tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58600105857140771702026-09-06T22:24:08.914-07:00Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-6085282206728086042011-12-27T07:54:00.000-08:002011-12-27T08:02:40.854-08:00

The ornaments are back in their box, the absence of snowmen and garland has the house looking normal yet sparse and it is not without melancholy that Christmas carols no longer fill the air of the Pierce household.  Christmas has come and gone, and though handing someone a wrapped present at this date is less than ideal, I do have a few deliveries to make to the friends we celebrated with

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-82691531330007765362011-12-19T07:09:00.000-08:002011-12-19T07:09:57.388-08:00

While driving in traffic this week, I took the opportunity to change radio stations and mistakenly let a car length fill between me and the car in front.  As I moved my foot from the brake, I heard a honk from behind and glanced backwards only to receive a creative hand wave.  A bit later that afternoon, the husband pulled into the street only to be gestured and hollered at from what

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-11442122988636393902011-12-16T05:08:00.000-08:002011-12-16T05:08:17.576-08:00

An english muffin smothered with butter and jam.... that was my daily breakfast until the college years whisked me away from that magic refrigerator; the one that was constantly stocked with a package of wolfermans and a jar of smuckers.  Now an adult with my own magic refrigerator, I'm forced into the more sensible breakfast choices.  That is, until the holiday season goes into full

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-9158820292779130762011-12-10T07:56:00.000-08:002011-12-12T18:42:38.547-08:00

Each year, there seems to be one holiday that's a bit more challenging than the others.  For me, 2011's emotional ties wrapped themselves around Thanksgiving.  In a myriad of melancholy, determination and a genuine love for Thanksgiving food, I found myself desperately negotiating my way through the holiday.  I deconstructed the meal, considered leaving town, suggested dinner at a

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-37846519605260214682011-11-14T04:52:00.000-08:002011-11-14T04:53:31.472-08:00

Two things are critical to a Thanksgiving meal: turkey and faith.  The turkey of course being the iconic centerpiece and the faith being what pushes you to spend an entire afternoon roasting that turkey to perfection.  As I meander through this Thanksgiving meal, I'm learning just how much faith I lost over the years.  Last year I attempted a jalapeno and smoked paprika turkey. &

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-14300632942135657472011-11-06T10:06:00.000-08:002011-11-06T10:06:31.012-08:00

As we near the holiday season, it is only natural to reminisce on those past: family recipes and grand dinners at the table.  I cannot help but notice the plethora of magazines featuring beautiful pictures of turkeys or roasts displayed on perfectly set tables and I wonder how the **** do they do that? A devoted home cook, I'm notorious for disastrous holiday dinners.  The husband

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-24529422813553491042011-11-05T19:20:00.000-07:002011-11-06T05:41:29.865-08:00

Antone's sandwiches, sushi to go and whole foods chicken nuggets.... That is what the family lives on when I'm not at full power.  They don't complain; at times I think they enjoy the change.  However with both feet healed, and still glowing from last week's successful pumpkin dish, I turned to French Fridays with Dorie for a new challenge; I ended up with an elegant midweek meal that

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-81763213873898183562011-11-02T04:53:00.000-07:002011-11-02T04:53:09.257-07:00

Inspired by my peasant food findings during my shut in phase, I have done a quasi cleaning of the pantry and found a plethora of potential. While I do make an effort to buy only what we need, once in a while I fall under the Heidi Swanson spell.  Author of 101 Cookbooks, this vegetarian chef brings new life to whole grains and veggies and  after reading her posts, I find myself throwing

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-16811171160727732132011-11-01T04:52:00.000-07:002011-11-01T04:52:44.133-07:00

After days of limping around the house, I was determined to turn out something fabulous for a Thursday night dinner. With easy prep and a long cooking time, this French Fridays with Dorie recipe had seemed just the project. Up until October 27, all previous Pierce family pumpkins have become jack-o-lanterns.  As I tossed bacon, cheese and a dosing of heavy cream into the pumpkin

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-31758758622504616752011-10-26T17:09:00.000-07:002011-10-27T08:19:59.676-07:00

"stay off of your feet," the kind doctor told me. Yes, a mere three weeks post food poisoning, I was attacked by fire ants and ended up couch-confined with a serious infection.  Some say this is the karmic result of my constant reference to the 1992 Ross Perot SNL skit describing the role of Texas fire ants in the death penalty.... I've always accused God of being a fair guy. Regardless

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-72871270594527210752011-10-22T07:03:00.000-07:002011-10-22T07:03:04.001-07:00

I remember the first time I watched my mother throw anchovies into her spaghetti sauce.  I was in my own moody preteen years, and found the whole thing repulsive.  Unmoved by my moods, my mother continued cooking and ultimately served my favorite sauces: spaghetti puttanesca.  This same angst has caused me to pass over pissaladiere. Anchovies fried into a sauce is one thing, biting

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-37997341125261126632011-10-20T04:16:00.000-07:002011-10-20T04:18:11.562-07:00

Stories good and bad.... that was my focus this year.  On average, I have a pretty good success rate in the kitchen.  I have a few meals that don't get at least one good rating, and even fewer that go straight ot the trash.  Enter holidays.  I don't know what happens on the holidays but I cook for days and end up in tears.  I assure you, there are few things as pathetic

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-46046482665408939652011-10-18T04:45:00.000-07:002011-10-18T04:45:57.522-07:00

I have my moments that some would call dramatic.  Personally, I think I'm just a romantic.     When I envision life on a farm I think of beautiful sunny mornings enjoyed with family as I pick ripe vegetables  all the while dressed like Anna Nicole's Guess shoot circa 1992.  A bona-fide city girl, the closest I get to this vision is a weekly delivery from my CSA; a box

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-24276366047231306342011-10-14T04:38:00.000-07:002011-10-14T04:38:24.362-07:00

I love Sunday dinners; comfort food leisurely enjoyed round the dining room table as family and friends savor what is left of the weekend.  I also love my husband and for several months a year am willing to give the Sunday meal a makeover to accommodate his favorite tradition: NFL football. Though I've never been a fan of football, there is something about the smell of simmering soup and

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-77697231968073707772011-10-09T07:36:00.000-07:002011-10-09T07:36:04.508-07:00

I started cooking in the most American way..... it did not involve days in the kitchen with my grandma, nor holidays spent mastering family recipes.  Though my mother is a fantastic cook, she thought better than to move an unwilling ADD child into the kitchen to mess up her groove.  I started cooking from a Rival Crock Pot and a Fix it and Forget it cookbook.  About a month later,

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-58171301352926223582011-10-04T04:33:00.000-07:002011-10-04T04:33:04.828-07:00

In the two years that I've written this blog I have made several stabs at organization.  The most successful seems to be the most unsophisticated; I cook throughout the week photographing along the way.  The recipes I love get shared, the ones I don't....  This system sustained deadlines and hectic work weeks.  It did not however, sustain food poisoning. Not sure if it was a

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-18731271247460332182011-09-30T04:34:00.000-07:002011-09-30T04:38:27.346-07:00

Comfort food with fresh ingredients.  That's how I describe my cooking.  Though I have a sprinkling of adventurous days, I prefer the simple and comforting dishes over the complex and frustrating.  I guess you could say I like my food like I like my friends. The BLT makes a frequent appearance at our table especially on Saturday or Sunday afternoons.  One of my favorite

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-10306223979152593632011-09-28T04:37:00.000-07:002011-09-28T05:18:00.262-07:00

There are two things that I despise: going to bed and waking in the morning.  Naturally a night owl, I have not transitioned easily into adulthood where sleeping until noon is no longer possible nor appropriate.  Weekends were a small refuge; Friday nights enjoyed  a bit later with a movie or an extra glass of wine.  Saturday morning zzz's spanned until the youngest made

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-59579482021803449852011-09-25T10:43:00.000-07:002011-09-25T10:43:18.203-07:00

My father insists that time is our most valuable asset.  The older I get, the more I agree with him. On this assertion anyway.  Good food takes time; time to plan, shop and prepare.  I easily justify time spent on dinner, lunch however is another story. It seems a constant challenge to avoid redundancy in our brown bagged lunches.   While I want these midday meals to be

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-12705302826366583282011-09-23T04:40:00.000-07:002011-09-23T04:40:30.116-07:00

I don't know if I'm a stickler for tradition or merely set in my ways, but I love designated family dinner nights.  Regardless of television shows, house guests, or a mere lack of desire the family sits together, eats a meal and learns to coexist.  So, when the my oldest child's soccer practice threatened a scheduled family dinner, I refused to see the tradition die.  We now enjoy

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-85211177336749686142011-09-21T04:12:00.000-07:002011-09-21T04:12:05.703-07:00

In life, there appears to be two things you never out grow: conflict and hangovers. Interestingly enough, one seems to lead to the other.  I'll set the scene: one alley, four neighbors and eighteen months of  resentment all put to rest after four bottles of wine, one difficult conversation and several fantastic foodie bits.  Around 2:00 AM everyone in attendance felt understood and

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-53167298667217251802011-09-18T12:09:00.000-07:002011-09-18T13:17:46.766-07:00

There are few places I love more than New York; my dream of life in the big city began at age 12 after spending the summer at the Jeoffery Ballet School,  it only increased when Carrie Bradshaw ran down Madison Avenue ten years later.  Though Texas is my home, Jersey relatives and Brooklyn besties allow for frequent opportunities to play New Yorker.  For me, a meal in New York is

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-44180789777103106962011-09-15T07:31:00.000-07:002011-09-15T07:32:59.852-07:00

So, how do we elevate the everyday routine and still get everything done? The ever-essential midweek meal.  This week, I brought back a recipe for fish cooked in parchment; an oldie but goodie adapted from the quick meal master herself, Rachel Ray.  (Zip it Bourdain) My senior year of college I was religiously-occasionally dieting.  One week I decided to eat nothing but steamed

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-57423373851356577932011-09-11T16:26:00.000-07:002011-09-11T16:30:59.998-07:00

Two years ago I embarked on a quest to host 52 dinner parties.  One year ago, I hosted the fifty-second party and one year later... what? This blog has become a nagging relative that I've avoided like high fructose corn syrup.  My delima?  I have no idea what this blog is about or what business I have telling people how to cook.  I'm not a classically trained chef, nor

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5860010585714077170.post-69112835277179767972011-01-10T22:02:00.000-08:002011-01-10T22:02:30.500-08:00

Ten days into the new year... how is your resolution?  I have stepped rather slowly into my healthy resolution.  I only recently relinquished my weekday wine and this week's French Friday's post involves nearly two sticks of butter.  However, I have also resolved to be more positive and, therefore, decided to focus on my successful dinners; one in particular involving more leafy

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0