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One week from today is Thanksgiving, and it’s time to tell you the truth: I’m not cooking dinner this year! No, after cooking last year (see here) and the year before (see here) I’m giving myself a break this year, and enjoying time with my family instead. So there will be no frantic posting, no…
Last week I groused about too much Top Chef coverage and here I am, one week later, and I really want to blog about it. So call me a Top Chef hypocrite, I can take it; the show is good, I can’t lie. And tonight’s episode was a good one. But I’ll just make a…
May I gently suggest that there’s a bit too much “Top Chef” coverage out there? It’s a fine show, pretty entertaining, but there’s only so much I’m willing to read about the first eliminated contestants or “Team Rainbow” which, it should be said, is now being promoted by Bravo’s P.R. team in e-mails to bloggers.…
…and proud of my country tonight. They’re hooting and hollering outside in Park Slope, but I just had to load this up because it felt incredibly appropriate. Congrats, President Obama. (Wow, that felt good to type.)
I’m sure I don’t need to tell my readers to go out and vote or who to vote for (can you guess who I’m voting for?) but just in case there’s a person out there sitting at home reading this, apathetically eating Doritos with Dorito fingers scared of getting Dorito dust on the voting booth…

Hi Bouchon Bakery, how are you? I know we’re friends and that I’ve visited you many times in the past. I love your tuna nicoisse tartine and your roasted tomato soup with grilled cheese and your subtle salad with watercress, apples and blue cheese. But what’s the deal with your heirloom tomato salad?
Your biological clock may be ticking, but your gastronomical clock is practically stomping on the ground and demanding that you get thee to a farmer’s market to enjoy the last of this summer’s tomatoes. It’s a truth that often goes unacknowledged that tomatoes are at their best not during the hot, sweaty days of summer…
It’s not every day that you have your worst restaurant experience ever. Mine happened a few weeks ago, upon my return from Seattle and Cape Cod. Literally: it was my first meal back and the food gods rightly punished me for making a waste of it.Park Slope has two sushi joints I frequent: one is…

The weekend is here and you’re finally free to relax, to read, to toast yourself in the sun. But here’s what I think you should do: on Saturday? Go to a farmer’s market. If you don’t have one in your town, ok, you’re off the hook; but if you do, head over there and buy…
So at that Greek place I mentioned in my Rhode Island post, we were very hungry and I was very thirsty. I ordered an iced tea and the waitress asked: “Sweetened or unsweetened?” Thinking I was in Atlanta, where sweet tea is often house-made, I picked sweet tea. When it came out I took a…





