Food for Poems

This is a bit of a lazy recipe. I bought some cream cheese a month or two ago with vague ambitions of making danishes, but danishes only sta...

I didn’t use to be a big brownie-eater, but lately, I’ve been more amenable to the charms of America’s favorite bar cookie. You can make th...

I've been feeling fairly chipper and busy, which can only mean that for you, dear readers, it's time for something dark and indolent...

My mother-in-law likes to vacation in Maine every year, and where husband and I live is a convenient near-halfway stopping point between th...

Like many cooks, I find myself far less drawn to the kitchen during summer months. We don’t have central a/c, and our kitchen is ill-served...

I'm feeling a touch maudlin and sentimental, and that can only mean one thing: it's time for Tennyson.  I have no defense of the fol...

You needn’t fear that I’d abandoned my hankering for peach cobbler. I’m firmly in the “biscuit crust” cobbler camp. Pate brisee is a fine ...

As summer emits its last gasp, I’m trying to make the most of my beloved ice cream maker. New England seems to already have turned the corn...

Since the beginning of the summer, I’ve been hoping to lay my hands on some fresh figs. I’m not so keen on them plain, but I love them in b...

Apparently, we just had the hottest month ever recorded here in Connecticut. Usually, I scoff and pish at those who whine about New England...