© 2012 The Joy of Cooking Trust and the MRB Revocable Trust
I have always had a bit of a love-hate relationship with canned pickles. While I love them in theory--the taste of late summer in a jar--they usually fall far short of the crisp, briny platonic ideal, becoming increasingly soggy and insipid over time.
Emily Hilliard is the folklorist, writer, and baker behind the beautiful and inspiring pie blog Nothing in the House. Raised in Indiana, she's lived in the Midwest, New England, and the South, and currently resides in Washington, D.C. She holds an M.A.
Flour and water. That's all you'll need. Really.
I know, it's hard to have faith in just flour and water--those of us who bake bread have come to love the deus ex machina of instant yeast: its frothy upsurge and predictability. But wild yeasts are no slouches, and they are easily harnessed for bread making, as thousands of years of our ancestry would tell you.
After reading Ashley English's recently published book, A Year of Pies, not only was I inspired to...well...make more pie, I was compelled to contact her to write a guest blog.
I swore I wouldn't bombard you with yet another popsicle recipe for a while, but I'm having a hard time holding off.
Now that I've eaten my weight in berries this season, I've been looking for ways to use them in cooking projects. Of course, there are lots of creative ideas floating around out there, but sometimes simplicity and familiarity are in order--the sort of lackadaisical recipes that are perfect for summer vacations and lazy mornings.
When you live without air conditioning, you learn to embrace the heat.
There are tactics for coping--always having a bottle of rosé in the fridge, keeping the ice cube trays full, or following the cat's lead and lying prone on the tiled bathroom floor (and trying not to think about how clean said bathroom floor actually is). You can also keep the heat down by not cooking.
Like most other avid cooks, I develop food crushes.
For a while, I put toasted cumin in almost everything. I kept a small bowl of it by the stove and would add a pinch here and a pinch there. It was a new (to me) flavor sensation, and I was testing its limits.
One thing about fruit: you never know exactly what you're going to get.
Back in high school, I ate no fewer than one orange a day. I liked oranges, as you might imagine, but under the guise of eating a snack, I was studiously applying my own less-than-rigid, pseudoscientific theories as to how to select a good orange.