All posts filed under: cheese

those hot little cheesy biscuits | gluten free buckwheatgougeres on a raisin & a porpoise

boo to you

Once upon a time, we had a little baby, the third and final in our in-house series and the last installment for both families-at-large as well. I had always wanted a summer baby, so with our characteristic meticulousness, this baby ended up being due in early January. January 6th, to be precise, which is the holiday (in a religion not my own) known as Epiphany. My oldest nephew, the first grandchild in our family, started calling his cousin-to-be ‘Piph,” (that rhymes with ‘sniff,’ for those of you playing along at home) and it stuck as the in-process name; our first child’s had been ‘Sally,’ dating from the What To Fear When You’re Pregnant progress drawing comparing the little tenant to a salamander, and I think my oldest sister’s womb name was “Yitzik,” though I kind of wonder what I could be using that brain cell for if it were not devoted to storing such a valuable factoid. Long about mid-December, when I began to look like the boa constrictor float in a Little Prince parade, …

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stuff now, thank me later/twice-baked potatoes from A Raisin & A Porpoise

later, tater

Sorry I’m late.  I’ve been stuck at a four-way intersection, notorious all over the globe for short-circuiting sensible behavior.  Mine was the place where a fresh wave of grief, my loony agreement to costume the 8th grade play, a very busy season writing and organizing, and a small farm animal in my kitchen all came together. None of these things could have been managed without friendship, and I am absurdly rich in this resource, but the pace of life has felt aerobic even so. My friend Suzi once said to me, as I explained a day that seemed arduous but possible, “there’s the logistics, and then there’s living through it.”  Meaning yes, it is technically feasible to drop your kids off at school, travel 2.5 hours to attend a one-hour event, get back on time for 2:30 pick up, then get dinner on the table and hit the class meeting at 7.  But then there is the state of mind and body that will result, which ought to be part of the calculations. As this …

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truffled baked pearl onions / a raisin and a porpoise

greyed expectations

We had, or at least we aimed for, a modest Thanksgiving feast.  “Modest,” like most terms, is relative.  In our case, that meant scaling back to an absurd overabundance of food, instead of the usual preposterous superabundance.  The Thanksgiving menu is a hard one to narrow, if you are fortunate enough to be only meaningfully limited by the number of waking hours you are willing to stand in the kitchen.  As the holiday nears, I bookmark this recipe and pin that one, thinking of branching out here or there, but the fact remains that there are absolute non-negotiables on the menu, so you can’t really kick up your heels without edging into superfluous territory.  You may not, for instance, replace the regular mashed potato with some alternate rendition.  You may supply an additional starch, yes.  But if you fail to provide the basics, be prepared to hear about it. Our modest goals this year were informed by many relativities (as is always the case with relatives), and one absolute, this being the first Thanksgiving since …

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