Ree Drummond, aka The Pioneer Woman, was the first blogger that I actually followed. I mean, my first love was Apartment Therapy, but I’m not even sure that I knew it was a blog. This was before I knew anything about feed readers or bloggers or, frankly, cooking. I loved Ree’s voice. I loved how she told stories about her food and talked about ingredients. I loved her photos. I loved that she made cooking look easy.
Read MoreDoes absence make the heart grow fonder with blogging too? I sure hope so. I realize that it seems like I’ve been a bit out of touch, but really, I’ve been right here in my very kitchen processing fruit. Lots and lots of fruit. I will be posting about the fruit shortly, but for now, can we talk about one of my favorite subjects? That’s right, pasta.
Read MoreLast night’s dinner was good. It wasn’t great, but it was good. It was so easy to prepare that the preparation more than made up for the less than mind blowing final product. Like any grilled steak, this one needed just the right amount of seasoning before grilling and I may have under-seasoned it a bit. But it was grilled perfectly (thank you, Rob) and the combination of the heirloom tomatoes and toasted spice vinaigrette made for an excellent summer meal.
Read MoreCacio e Pepe is a traditional Roman pasta dish. It is more than just a fancy way to say spaghetti with cheese. It is the best dish on the planet when done right. If you are in New York, go to Lupa in the Village and try their Cacio e Pepe (as a bonus, the last time we ate at Lupa, we sat two tables away from Alan Rickman). If you are in Rome, you can order it anywhere. Do yourself a favor and try this dish at a café (aptly) called Cacio e Pepe. There is no menu and no English and it is (or at least was) cash only. But go anyway. This is where I first fell in love with the simplicity and amazingness of cacio e pepe. It is also where an amazing Italian couple sitting at the table next to us held our six month old twins while we ate so that we could enjoy the meal. And it is where my husband and I both forgot our wallets (traveling with twins, people), resulting in his high tailing it across Rome to get said wallet while I sat at the table with both babies and hoped he would make it back before dinner was served. Did I mention that neither of us speak Italian?
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