I always buy all of the November food magazines. I like to see what menus the editors have planned for the gluttonous holiday, Thanksgiving. Sometimes I find a recipe for yams that looks tempting, or a new way to shred my brussels sprouts, but usually I stick to the tried and true standbys that I love to make each fall. What can I say? I am a traditionalist. But the magazines stay dog-eared, pages crumpled beside my bedside table for the whole month of November.
But this November was different. Amongst the recipes for Fennel, Red Onion and Focaccia Stuffing, which I won’t be making, I saw a recipe for homemade ricotta cheese in Food and Wine magazine. Well, I love a good project. And if that project involves a mess of milk, a bit of cream, and not a whole lot else, well– [...]

I’ve been thinking a lot about dough lately–kneading it, pressing it, watching it grow, baking it, and of course, frying it. Maybe I should actually amend the previous sentence to read: I’ve been thinking a lot about fried dough lately. There is nothing like a good doughnut, or a fritter, or a beignet. If my doughnut consumption was in direct proportion to all of my doughnut thinking, no doubt I would be an enormous, sugar-kissed young woman waddling towards you, her hands coated in chocolate glaze.
Perhaps it is the shape of the doughnut, that pleasing circular form, that begs for constant thought. It is the ideal form– symmetrical from all angles, but also a continuous surface. You can start at one point on the doughnut, travel a circuitous path, and end up right back where you started. That is if you did not munch [...]

I was recently talking with some friends about summertime desserts. Mainly about how much I love them. Got a cobbler? Send it right on over! Peach pie is divine! Plum cake? Superb! And then I mentioned an old stand-by for me– the clafoutis. No crust to beat down with a rolling pin, it uses whatever fruit of the season you choose, not quite a cake, not quite a custard. Simple, delicious, and my own prerequisite, great for breakfast the next day. The clafoutis is pretty close to perfect.
One of the conversation’s participants, Seth, had never heard of the clafoutis, much less eaten one (don’t worry, that will be remedied), but he asked if they were anything like a dutch baby. Well that opened up an entirely new can of worms, as some people had never eaten those either. [...]

I love a coffee cake for breakfast. Or a piece of pie. And if there are any homemade cookies in the house, I can’t think of anything better to have with my morning cup of coffee. (If these cookies happen to be oatmeal, all the better. I rationalize it away as eating a breakfast grain first thing in the morning.)
Growing up my mom would occasionally make a coffee cake from the back of the box of Bisquick. I would wake up to the warm smell of cinnamon wafting through the air. Rolling out of bed, I sleepily made my way down the hall. On a cooling rack my breakfast would sit, its craggy streusel topping with lumps of shredded coconut peeking out. This is what probably gave me my very first sweet tooth in the morning.
As I was looking through [...]

The berries are gone. At least the good ones are. They’ve rolled up their welcome mats and bid the berry-loving world adieu. It seems like months ago those final rosey apricots, their supple skin veritably bursting with juice, said farewell. Of course, there are those final hanger-ons, the colonels of summer stone fruit: the random plums, the sweet Georgia peaches, and the nectarines—firm, but still holding on.
But these fruits are having to share space in the market. Hold on—fall fruit is coming! Apples so crunchy and tart, their skin so shiny, it almost reflects that the final days of Indian summer fruit are rolling in. Pears, with their buttery, sweet taste, and sumptuous physique are earning their way onto the market shelf, making company with those stone fruits.
For only a few short weeks do we have these two emblems of their respective seasons [...]

I would not, could not, in a box. I could not, would not, with a fox. I will not eat them with a mouse. I will not eat them in a house. I will not eat them here or there. I will not eat them anywhere. I do not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-am.
Perhaps Sam’s curmudgeonly friend had not tried these green eggs and ham:
You can pile just about anything on top of grilled, rustic style bread, and it would be good. I don’t know about having rodents as your dining companion, but a delicious breakfast can be made. I glided on a bit of bright green pesto that acted as the glue for a morning-time, open-faced sandwich. Next, some thinly sliced, still-summery tomatoes, then a beautiful poached egg simply awaiting a puncture.
The piece de resistance, the ham, or in this [...]

Donuts and a cuppa joe. As American as apple pie, a juicy hamburger, or a skinny hot dog. Glazed, chocolate frosted, jelly-filled, raised or cake, have your pick. Some people dunk ‘em in their breakfast-time coffee, then quickly take a bite, careful not to allow the donut to get too soggy in their hot morning brew. Other people are purists, munching on the gooey sweetness anytime of the day, but completely unsullied.
On Saturday mornings, when I was young, my dad used to take me fishing off of the pier in Half Moon Bay, CA. Dad was a not an outdoors man. He was not even an organized sports man. He was a business man. Not the suit-and-tie sort, but still the sort that awoke at the crack of dawn to get to the office early before anyone else had really [...]

A commenter from last week had this to say, “Let’s see a substitute for the egg-McMuffin (but we all know nothing beats the real thing!).” It seems that many people have a soft spot for that ubiquitous breakfast sandwich, the McMuffin. I can’t say that it was a part of my childhood, never having even tasted the bizarre egg patty until just a few years ago.
But I can understand the mystique. There is just something so pleasing about having your first meal of the day being hand-held, self-contained, and probably given to you by a person wearing a paper hat behind a plexiglass window. An entire meal, nestled cozily in a muffin or biscuit, waiting to be gobbled up by morning time diners– now that’s good eatin’. But here in New York City, a city bustling with pedestrians, subways, and a sea of yellow taxi cabs, [...]

When my in-laws first got married, my mother-in-law, ever the good 1960s wife, prepared a bowl of globby oatmeal for the two of them every morning. Little did she know that her husband actually disliked oatmeal, almost as much as she did. Both ate their oatmeal every morning thinking that the other one liked it, until one day the truth came out and, much to their mutual relief, ne’er a bowl of oatmeal was to be seen on their table again.
But, I like oatmeal. The steam rising from the bowl emitting a wholesome, nutty fragrance first thing in the morning can be both comforting and restorative. But you know what might be even better than hot oatmeal? Well, not necessarily better, just altogether different…and wonderful– bircher muesli.
Now I know muesli. In fact I went through a brief, albeit red-hot desire for Familia Muesli in high [...]

September has always seemed like a month filled with promise and new beginnings. I guess it goes back to my first days of elementary school and wondering who my teacher would be, if my best friend would be in my homeroom class, and deciding which new fall outfit I would wear on my very first day back at school. Back then summer seemed so endless, sleep-away camp a distant memory. Warm July days spent lounging near the swimming pool at my grandma’s condominium complex were a pleasant diversion from school, but I was ready for all that the school year had to hold. I was ready to read Where the Red Fern Grows, ready to learn long division.
So in honor of September, a New Year of sorts, I’ve decided this month will be all about breakfast, that first meal of the day, a meal that [...]