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Archive for March, 2009

We ate some wonderful roasted chicken breast tonight. I sit and write this full and content – pleased with the unique satisfaction that comes from a full belly of something comforting and savory.

I have been traveling so much lately and have been yearning for something simple and delicious, cooked in my own kitchen.

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So I realize that brussel sprouts are at the very tail end of their season (and I may be really stretching it), but I still see them bright and peppy on their stalks at the market so I feel justified in this post.

Like the city of their namesake, brussel sprouts are terribly underrated; they have such an unfortunate reputation of being stinky and plain. In fact, these little runts of the cabbage family may be the mascot for the rejected vegetable team, elevated by veggie haters as the chief offender and reason to shun vegetables.

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Minus the handful of years that I was a resident, I have visited California my entire life. My mother’s side of the family lives there and we are both natives. I don’t live there anymore, but I visit every chance I get. Often, as the plane takes off and I head back east, I choke back silent little tears. I remember my mom doing this when I was young – apparently it is a legacy.

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I love going to markets. No matter which city I am visiting, I always want to see at least one of the local markets. I can’t place exactly why I have this fascination with markets, because it existed even before I became very avid about cooking and ingredients. Maybe my love of food is what drew me, or maybe it is because a busy market is typically a loud and lovely mass of humanity – people from all walks of life brushing against each other and examining produce, speaking different languages, unified in the purpose to do what we all must – EAT.

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My Aunt Valerie has a little crush on Jamie Oliver.

I sent her his latest cook book for Christmas and when my cousin received the package, something in my message caused him to think that Jamie himself sent Valerie the cookbook as a gift. For one moment, just one moment, he had her convinced.

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