Sharing stories of food stories we love.
In the kitchen this morning while making cookies, I paused to scrape down the beater of my stand mixer. I scraped it messily, leaving enough batter to lick off cleanly before dropping it in the sink.
The sight of a batter-coated beater or spatula evokes a near-Pavlovian response in me. I absolutely have to sneak a finger-full, then I lick the rest off, then dig into the corners to get every last bit of batter.
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We had a few perfect fall days this weekend. Knowing that this weather is fleeting makes it feel all the more fantastic. Everyone is out soaking it up: I biked home today along the Hudson River, past dozens of birthday parties and barbecues and groups of friends sprawled across picnic blankets.
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I've gotten a lot of eye rolls over the years for publicly admitting that I like white chocolate. Truly, take it from me, don't confess that in a room full of people who work in food.
All serious food people claim to prefer bitter dark chocolate, which I'm not sure I buy. The same goes for cocktails: One person says they only drink Negronis and everyone else nods sagely, as if to say what sort of savage would drink a margarita?, at which point I find a spot on the floor to stare at intensely until the conversation ends.
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I get a lot of questions about what happens to all the food I make. Do I eat it all? Do I throw it out? Do I secretly have a family of 6 squirreled away in my office?
There is a lot of food in my kitchen on any given day, and some it does go to waste, but usually I will only toss the brownies I've manhandled for a photo or the chicken that slipped onto the floor because I am a flustered, non-poised photographer.
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NEWS: major culinary breakthrough has been achieved. I've made clumpy, cluster-y granola without adding a bajillion sticks of butter or raw eggs or the like. The feeling of accomplishment and discovery I have at this moment is quite high, and I'd like to pass it on.
I realize that discovering a neat, easy way to make clumpier granola isn't exactly doing God's work or anything, but stick with me here. My granola trials and travails are long and varied, and this is an important development.
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