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 [...]

Well, I’m back from California. But I suppose that I should have told you that I was going upon leaving. The first of two trips back this summer, aaahh, it is wedding season! Bring on the bouquets; bring on the bridesmaids; and bring on the catered food. Northern California was actually cold when we arrived, balmy and breezy, with a thick layer of marine fog in the morning. Cold though it may have been, the inclement weather did not keep the farmers from harvesting every sort of stellar local produce possible and bringing it to market
California was inspiring. I guess you cannot take the state out of a girl who was born and raised there. There were pies to be made at my parent’s house, with a mixture of stone fruit, and boysenberries so plump they looked like the belly of Santa Claus. [...]

Quail eggs are sweet, some might even say darling, in the same way that a petits-four or a mini tartlette is. But they can also be quite expensive. Usually I cruise by them at the market, thinking longingly of making diminutive hard-boiled eggs, topped with dollops of cool, black caviar. But each time I pick up those tiny cartons, and see the price– around $6 for one dozen, I quickly put these eggs back on the shelf, and scurry away. Five quail eggs equals about one chicken egg, and let’s just say I am usually not feeding dainty diners.
But in Chinatown, during my splendid day out, there were stacks and stacks of quail eggs, in cartons of 24 (that’s two dozen, mind you!), all to be had for $3 and some change. You have to love Chinatown. I of course bought a passel, and [...]