I have a lot of cookbooks, not more than I should, but enough that each box made Brian curse my not-so-little collection as we moved into our fourth floor walk-up last summer. Some of the books are well-loved, splattered with a sauce from page 84, a gooey drip of batter from page 128, and a fragrant spice mixture comes tumbling out of the spine each time I turn to page 223. Others are pretty to look at, with vibrant meals displayed on each page, and blurry, saturated images of food artfully presented, with the serving utensil displayed just so. I love my cookbooks, but the fact of the matter is I rarely use them as they are supposed to be used.
A good cookbook can be used as much for inspiration as it can for hard and fast recipes. I read cookbooks much like I read a stellar [...]

It’s been cold here. Really cold. It’s the kind of bone-chilling, nose-numbing weather that makes me want to hole up inside, wearing my latest gift from the in-laws, and hibernate until the chill wears off. But even I get bored by simply lounging around, and I begin to look for something to occupy my time. But what to do when all of the pilly lint-balls have been shaved off of my favorite sweater, I have bugged my husband sufficiently, and have organized both of our sock drawers? Well, I guess I could make some pickles.
I was really scraping the bottom of the pickle barrel (the cold has affected my sense of humor as well) in terms of groceries. I had a few measly Kirby cucumbers lying in the refrigerator, some rice, and a can of tomatoes. So rather than make an interesting (read: [...]