It's mid-December and we've made it through Chanukah and still have the solstice and Christmas to go. So far my most memorable holiday moment involves a teenage girl, several pounds of butter and sugar, huge blocks of chocolate, and a bunch of walnuts.

What do Maine and the Philippines have in common? I asked myself this improbable question several times recently. I had agreed to cook a five-course dinner with Amy Besa and Romy Dorotan at their award-winning Filipino restaurant, Cendrillon, in New York's Soho neighborhood. As we planned the meal that would bring together elements of Maine and Filipino cuisine I worried that maybe we were forcing things by trying to make a connection between

A large box arrived last week from Sonoma, California. I wasn't expecting anything so I was curious to read the note from my old friend: "Here's a little project we can do together when I come visit next week. Can't wait to see you. Love, Elisa."

October 2007

Here's the thing about fall: it's nearly perfect. We still have lots of bright, intense sun, punctuated by all those brilliantly-colored leaves. The nights are cold and crisp, "good sleeping weather," as they say around here. And while the light grows shorter each day, I still feel energetic this time of year. Certainly the kitchen calls to me. I've starting simmering all kinds of soups - the last of the garden tomatoes with the last of the basil; butternut squash and

This past weekend was the kind of weekend that makes New England famous. Warm, intense sun, cool breezes, and a sky so blue and clear it doesn't look quite real. The leaves are just beginning to turn and seeing one or two branches blazing with maroon and orange paints a pretty picture. One of my favorite fruit farms is open for picking, offering the last of the summer peaches and ten types of apples, so we pack into the car and drive north.

The fields surrounding the farm have all been hayed

August 31, 2007

The end of August/ beginning of September triggers a deep melancholy in me. It doesn't help that I'm sending one daughter back to college today and another back to high school in less than a week. The way I figure it, I spent 16 years segueing from the freedom of summer vacation to the discipline of back-to-school. And despite the fact that I haven't been a student for close to thirty years, I still anticipate the coming of fall and the back-to-school transition with

Several years ago a very close friend of mine became involved in raising money to build a river pool in the Hudson River in Beacon, New York. The most interesting part of the fund-raising drive was an organized swim across the Hudson - starting on the west bank in Newburgh, New York, and ending in Beacon, about a mile away on the east side of the river. She regaled me with stories of close to a hundred swimmers crossing the great river, tales of the Hudson's improved water quality, and the euphoric

This is the day I've been waiting for all year. It's July, and tonight we will eat a meal picked fresh from our garden.

The salad bowl will be filled with several types of lettuce, baby spinach, arugula, a handful of chopped herbs, and baby scallions weeded out from the onion patch. The larger spinach leaves will be saut`ed with garlic scapes (the part of spring garlic that crowns the top of the plant with exaggerated comma-like curls and bursts with a scalliony-garlic essence). The peas and

June 2007

When people list their favorite things about summer they tend to mention obvious indulgences like going to the beach, swimming in lakes and the ocean, gardening, eating freshly-grown fruit and vegetables, and relishing all those long, lazy days. But for me there is a more obscure joy, one I look forward to all year.

How do you define "art?" I often hear chefs, restaurateurs, and caterers referred to as "artists." Mostly I find this pretentious, but I also wonder if it's true. Do you have to be a painter, a dancer, or a sculptor to be called an "artist?" There's an art to creating really good food, but are chefs "artists?"