April is a Janus-faced tease. We all know that it’s Eliot’s cruelest month, but perhaps Robert Frost best articulated the month’s contradictions in his poem “Two Tramps in Mud Time”: The sun was warm but the wind was chill.You know how it is with an April dayWhen the sun is out and the wind is …
Soup
When I was a small child, I was a very picky eater. I refused to eat most vegetables, cold cheese, cold cuts, condiments, anything that smelled even faintly of vinegar, and anything saucy–other than chocolate sauce or spaghetti sauce. Perhaps the category most reviled by my young palate was soup. I found the whole wan …
The Tuscans have a way with beans. If I came away from my year in Italy learning one thing about food, it was this. As much as I love pizza and fresh pasta and gelato, and, oh, do I love those foods, my most memorable meal on the boot shaped peninsula involved none of them. …