Some parts of cooking require experience and skill–being able to dice an onion in fifteen seconds, knowing that the bread dough needs another dribble of water, recognizing that the butter has been worked into the p
We’ve had a bit of a cold snap around these parts. A little autumnal chill that hints at the jacket weather to come. The kind of weather that begs for closing up windows and putting on warm socks.
I don’t do well in the heat. On days when the mercury pushes 90 degrees F I wilt. I can go for weeks without cooking anything substantial. I drink big glasses of lemonade mixed with iced tea.
On Saturdays in the summer, my routine almost invariably includes a trip to the Evanston Farmers Market.
At their peak ripeness, summer fruits need little adornment. It’s tough to improve the flavor of a meltingly delicate, sweet tart raspberry or a succulent peach on the verge of bruising.