morsels & sauces

Very few things I can make without a recipe, and dolmas are one of them. Why? Well, when I was a vegetarian for a decade, I taught myself how to make dolmas because, people, they were so freaking tasty, and if I made them myself I could guarantee that they were meat-free and low on oil. Nowadays, the meat doesn't matter, which is a boon for this recipe, for I am telling you, friends, this is all meat. All  meat wrapped up in a grape leaf.  And I couldn't be happier. I snatched up this cookbook a while back, and I don't cook from it nearly enough. This fabulous glimpse into the cooking of the Caucasus region leaves one mouthwatering and aching for dill, eggplant, beets, cucumber, mint, rose petals, and pomegranates. Caroline Eden and Elanor Ford take you on a culinary tour, and they promise that you will not only not  get lost but also that there will be delightful stops along the way. For my first stop, I went with this recipe, for it was an old standby with...

In this  Cook Your Books  series, I have chosen 15 books to read in 2017 based on somewhat arbitrarily chosen categories. My theory (bogus it might turn out to be) is that all 15 of these books will somehow connect to food. And I plan to write about that food.  And it turns out that these entries are a sort of long-form blog-post. So settle in. This eleventh installment is a book set in Illinois . Oh, Desire. With a capital "D." There you are. Haunting around Chicago and New York (and their restaurants) in this old chestnut from the turn of the century. I picked up Sister Carrie   in the Chicago History Museum gift shop while I was wiling away some time before catching my plane from O'Hare back to San Francisco. I needed a book set in Illinois, and there was no way I was going to write about one of my most loathed books Augie March  (with apologies to my father-in-law, who is a big fan) or about the meat exposé  The Jungle  (a great book, but...

In this  Cook Your Books  series, I have chosen 15 books to read in 2017 based on somewhat arbitrarily chosen categories. My theory (bogus it might turn out to be) is that all 15 of these books will somehow connect to food. And I plan to write about that food.  It turns out that these entries are a sort of long-form blog-post. So settle in.  This  ninth  installment is  a book published in the 1970s . Aghem. I am not sure what possessed me to choose this book, given what we know about its source material. So John Gardner's wonderful little novel  Grendel  is a retelling of Beowulf  from the point of view of the beast. But here's the rub. The beast eats humans. Both in Beowulf  and in Grendel , and I should have known that. I knew that. I took "Beowulf to Dryden" in my first semester in college. I knew that. But I have promised myself I wouldn't preview books to ensure that they have a connection to food (that would sort of r...

My father-in-law and I disagree about chili.  We also disagree about most of the books we read in Bookclub, but that's another issue, especially when one has the pressing issue of chili to discuss.  You see, he's wrong. And I am right.  Beans belong in chili. And that's where he chimes in: He argues that chili should not have beans in it. He ascribes to Texas chili making, where beans are eschewed for more meat. And then some more meat on top of that. I guess, the happy part about a Bowl of Red is that if you're paleo, this is one meat-friendly pot of soup. Adapted from  The New American Heart Association Cookbook ,  this bowl of red is incredibly simple, especially since I didn't stew this on the stovetop for an hour, which you are welcome to do. Instead, I put this is in the slow cooker after browning the meat. Then I went to work. And when I came home I had a fantastic bowl of chile-meat soup, which is what we non-Texans might call this dish....