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There is no greater triumph for a home cook than to make something spectacular out of food you already have on hand. Case in point: the dish you see above, Chorizo scrambled eggs and fried fingerling potatoes–assembled, with no premeditation, in a matter of minutes. How did I do it? Easy. I took Chorizo that…

Two very strange things happened the night before I left for San Francisco: (1) I decided to make crepes; and (2) After making crepes–with lemon juice and sugar (a standard treatment, as far as I could discern)–I sat down with Craig, who was watching “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby” and, I kid you…

If it’s fair to mock Diane Keaton for ordering pastrami on white bread with mayo in “Annie Hall,” then it’s fair to mock me for not knowing much about savory tarts and quiche-like items. In my Jewish upbringing both in New York and Boca Raton, Florida I never encountered a savory tart or a quiche.…
What to do with the leftover peasant bread you bought for the Eggs in Purgatory I championed in a video last week? After all, you had the bread sliced at the store and fresh bread like that goes stale pretty quick. Let’s see there’s eggs in the fridge, vanilla, milk… hmmm… why, could we make…

On Saturday morning I did a remarkable thing: I made a feast for breakfast. Well, not quite a feast. A mini-feast. A feast in the sense that it took more effort than, say, popping an Eggo waffle in the toaster or making the breakfast I usually eat: air. This was my breakfast plate after it…

I scan recipes in magazines the same way I scan menus at restaurants: I’m looking for something bizarre, something new, something I’ve never before experienced. Sometimes the results are icky (see squash-sausage soup below), and sometimes they’re delightful. Case in point: pumpkin molasses ginger muffins. What might pumpkin, crystallized ginger and molasses taste like in…

When it comes to whipping up something fast for breakfast, I very rarely have the impulse to make pancakes. Eggs are as extravagant as I get: I drop a clump of butter in the skillet, crack the eggs on the counter and three minutes later I’m in gooey eggy heaven. Yes eggs or maybe oatmeal.…
If there was a betting pool and the bet was: “Is Adam pregnant?” you may do well to put aside preconceived notions about gender and childbirth and take seriously the following fact. I have strange cravings for scones in the middle of the night. Not only do I have these cravings, I listen to them…
Say what you will about me—call me bitter, call me mean, call me sometime, won’t you?—there’s one thing you can’t say: that I’m not impulsive.Take these biscuits for example.I had absolutely no reason to make them. I have bran muffins from the other night, remember? And I’m studying for the bar, remember? But I got…