Parsley Pesto Pizza + Squash Apple Pizza with Einkorn Crusts

There are people who don't believe in making a big deal about birthdays, but I'm not one of them---and I have my brother to thank. My brother, Adam, who is two years and two months younger than I am (but if you heard us together, you'd swear he were the one who's older), came here to see us last week, arriving around 2 p.m. on his birthday Wednesday and staying through Saturday night. The thing you have to understand about my brother and birthdays is he is kind of the king of celebrating them. When I turned 21, he took me to a Coach store and told me to pick out one thing I wanted, any one thing, and he would buy it for me---choosing a purse in a store so far outside my price range made me feel like the richest person in the world, and that's a feeling you never forget. Another year, he surprised me with a party at Ravinia, this outdoor park near Chicago where Tony Bennett was playing for the night. Since then, there have been trips to Maine and, when I was dating Tim, a … [Read more...]

Carrot Risotto (or, choosing whom you cook with)

top photo of carrot risotto

My brother hasn't been in the car with us twenty minutes before I hear him say something in passing about a spring pea risotto he's tried the week before, and before I can stop myself I'm exclaiming, "Risotto! I want to make risotto! How do you do it? Was it hard?” Then, to Tim, “Remember our carrot risotto in California?” That risotto we’d had at La Bicyclette, the highlight of our meal and maybe our entire trip, was the kind of entrée you never forget, so even though I ask him, I know Tim knows it, too: a carrot risotto so creamy and buttery, so cheesy and comforting, so beautifully bright orange the way things hardly ever naturally are, that I heard at least three other bloggers say they would tackle this recipe when they got home. Of course, I wasn't one of those bloggers saying I'd make it later, just so we're clear. I responded by saying how much I liked it, how warm and savory and amazing it was, but I didn't dream of going home and trying it myself because, … [Read more...]

Gluten-Free Tabbouleh

quinoa tabbouleh bowl

It doesn't matter if I'm with you in the kitchen making quinoa or talking to you through the lens of a computer screen, telling you I'm having a hard time making friends is one of the fastest ways I know to bring back all the emotions of second grade P.E. class. It's humiliating---kind of like announcing you're the kid no one wants to sit next to on the bus or that the guy who's taking you to dinner is only doing it because his mom knows your mom. Over and over again the last few days, when this topic has come up in conversation with acquaintances and friends, I've been shocked at how humbled I've been to simply state the truth, how much I've wanted to color it with less emotion and try to hide the fact that I crave deep relationships. I feel so embarrassed to say it, like I'm asking you to pity me and tell me I'm wonderful and invite me to your dinner party, but I force myself to do it anyway because it's true and I want to say what's true, and also, I want to fight the urge to only … [Read more...]

Mama’s Meat Sauce

I come from a long line of women who can cook: My great grandma, I'm told, made legendary pasta. My grandma rolled her own cannoli shells. My mom, a woman who loves to say, Oh, it's so simple (particularly when her only daughter asks for clarification on some new recipe trick), has a vast cooking repertoire that ranges from bakery-worthy apple strudel to hot chicken curry just the way my dad likes it. And as with a lot of things in life, I feel there are different ways to approach this kind of heritage: Embrace it. Or resent it. I'll let you guess which way I tended towards for most of my childhood and only say this: it's amazing how we can turn blessings into curses, how we can choose to be intimidated by that which can help us grow. You may call it perfectionism; I call it ugly. It's like, say, when you have the opportunity to start working from home: This is such an obvious good (especially as it is the thing---the very thing---you have wanted and worked towards for … [Read more...]

we’ll start somewhere

The smell of parsley makes me think of Passover, and the Seders we had at our house, all through my growing up years, with different friends each time, when my mom would make a big meal that everyone would rave about. On those nights, we'd dip sprigs of parsley in salt water---the parsley symbolizing spring and the newness of life, the salt water reminding us of the tears of Israel while they were in Egypt, before God parted the Red Sea and brought them out of captivity. Until last night, that was the only place I've ever eaten parsley on its own. I've had it in things---like Thanksgiving stuffing, where it reduces from leafy stalks to bending, fragrant herbs on the stove, drenched in butter and sauted with onions. I know bits of it---dried or fresh---go into all kinds of marinades and rubs, and I know it's very inexpensive to buy at the store (I want to say it was $0.99 for a bundle in November Wisconsin, which, when you think about it, is kind of amazing). But when I saw the … [Read more...]