My youngest brother, Chris, always howls “oooohhh noooo” when he looks into my kitchen cupboards and fridge. Says we live on starvation rations. I like to think that I limit…
Category: Food & Entertaining
I start most every day the same way: with a cup of coffee and peanut buttered whole-wheat toast (which I share with Jack). My cuppa must be medium roast, extra…
It’s official: the Mediterranean diet will keep you healthy, it will lower the risks of clogged arteries and their consequences all the while allowing you to eat yummy foods, including chocolate. What it will not do is help you lose weight. I am summing up in two lines a rigorous study done by the University of Barcelona, Spain, over the course of seven years, a study that has made headlines the world over. As if we didn’t know that eating grains, vegetables, pulses, nuts and fish was good for us. And yes,
I we also knew dark chocolate is very good for you. And sofagirl we also knew a glass of wine a day keeps the doctor away.
For 15 years of my life I was a strict vegetarian, abiding by some vague notions centered around animal cruelty. Then, one night, about 12 years ago, sitting at one of Suzanne Goin’s restaurants, I saw a plate of jamon serrano whizzing by and I simply had to have it. Under the astonished eyes of my friends, I devoured the entire thing without batting an eyelid. And never looked back.
A pastry chef dissing sugar can come across as an oxymoron. But I have always been a pastry chef hell-bent on not using corn syrup, food coloring and on avoiding overly sweet and cloying creations. Since I left my job, I have been trying to wean myself off the need of reaching for something sweet (usually chocolate – even dark chocolate contains sugar) after every meal. Breakfast pastries are not part of my breakfast any longer (well, with the exception of Italy, where I cannot forego cappuccino and croissant) as the notorious sugar crash induced by such foods has become more noticeable as I age.
For most of my childhood, I hated Biafran children. I was always a picky eater and a skinny kid; all our family dinners were partaken at exactly 8 pm, with the tv set on in the background and my father silencing us if an item of interest (to him) appeared on the news. While I toyed with bits of meats and vegetables, my mother would invariably prod me with “Think of those African children. They have nothing to eat”. It should have shamed me into finishing my dinner but all it did was build resentment towards those protruding bellies and vacant stares. “If they are so hungry, why don’t they come get my meatballs” I would mutter to myself.
My citrus trees are on overdrive. When I moved to this house, nearly ten years ago, it was clear the previous owners were into growing their own fruit and vegetables, a task I would have gladly carried on were I not the most incompetent gardener and for the small matter of a very demanding job that left me no time to coddle zucchini and lettuce.
The vegetable enclosure was thus dismantled but the fruit trees managed to prosper in spite of me. I have not bought a lemon in ten years,and, right about now, the orange and mandarin trees, grown into adulthood, are providing me with an extra workout – it helps they are perched on an unforgiving hillside.