David goes out to pasture. Uh, we mean, he decides the only eggs that shall touch his lips hereafter shall be pastured.
In Nahuatl, pozole means “make a big batch of this on the weekend and reheat during the week after soccer practice.” (Not really.)
All’Amatriciana—go on, roll that “r” like they do in Italy—means a spicy pasta sauce of tomatoes and pancetta or bacon. Prego.
A sweet nuttiness, a dense crumb, a crunchy crust, and bags more flavor than normal bread. Whatcha waiting for?
Pastrami. We consider it the other corned beef. We also consider it darn easy to make it yourself.
Commercial tartar sauce tends to be crammed full of sugar and corn syrup and preservatives. Not this little homemade lovely.
David divulges how he learned to bake bread late in life—and how he promptly became quite, quite obsessed.
David finally learns to make pain d’epi, the loaf of bread that he’s been lusting after for decades, and finds it to be easy peasy. Whew.
It’s sooooo easy to wake up or come home from work, fry some eggs, and plop them on a tortilla. Sooooo ridiculously easy.
Most Southerners believe—correctly—that wings are the sweetest part of the chicken. Amen to that.
No, this isn’t quite the classic cooked-for-days cassoulet you’ll find in Gascony. This is cassoulet casserole. You’ll find no complaints here.
We think you’ll come to understand our giddiness about this effervescent elixir the second you take a sip.
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