When you think of Austria, what comes to mind? Beautiful mountains and
picturesque valleys? Strauss waltzes? Wienerschnitzel? Mozart? Pastries? (what
we call “Danish” are know
I didn’t know it existed until I saw the sign on the Goodwill store at Chatham Road and
Wabash Avenue. Driving away from the garden center behind Hobby Lobby after
buying more flowe
When I was a child, it seemed impossibly exotic. When I was an adolescent, it
seemed impossibly tacky: Trader Vic’s in St. Louis.
I never ate there, though. For my family, din
I’ve always loved peas. Those frozen peas available in grocery stores aren’t terrible. But they can’t begin to compare with new baby peas, tiny marbles of sweetness that a
Springfield didn’t exactly seem like a happenin’ place to be in the 1970s, at least to me. I’d moved away, first to the University of Illinois in Champaign, then to Chicago
with my
It’s kind of disillusioning. First it was finding out that St. Patrick’s Day isn’t a big deal in Ireland. For a variety of reasons, its most raucous,
over-the-top celebra
Mention starch in Italian food, and most people’s thoughts will turn towards pizza, and pasta. But in northern Italy, rice is as
much a staple as pasta; pizza’s an import.
I wish I could go back to high school.
I never thought those words would pass my lips. Even more bizarre — I want to take home ec classes.
I avoided home ec like the plague i