The worst moment in a writer’s life is the day he receives his first rejection slip. The second worst is the day his first book is published.
The former because it only takes one person—one person—to …

Yesterday, before a crackingly good thunderstorm knocked out power in Roxbury, CT, for more than three hours, The One went out into the garden (well, the euphemistic garden because its no bigger than a toddler’s wadding …

I grew up in Fullerton, California, a continent away from Buenos Aires, Argentina, the city my mother’s side of the family calls home, and where she spent her first 30 years. This meant that while …

Hostess Sno Balls always remind me of Cheryl Swanson, our high school pep-squad leader who was fond of tight, hot-pink Angora sweaters. It was the late ’70s and the retro ’50s look was in, so …

After Clarkson Potter approached me several years ago to write The New Portuguese Table (yes, publishers do approach writers unbidden, so don’t give up hope), I remember running around the apartment screaming and suddenly slamming …

Julia Usher’s background is an unusual one for the author of a cookie book. After receiving an undergraduate degree from Yale, a master’s degree in mechanical engineering from Berkeley, and an M.B.A. from Stanford, she …

On June 11th, I had the pleasure and honor of being on a panel at The New School with some esteemed colleagues—John T. Edge, Anne Mendelson, Betty Fussell, and Molly O’Neill—to talk about one of …

Recently, I was at Sunda, a wildly popular new Pan-Asian restaurant in Chicago, having dinner with Judith Dunbar Hines, our city’s Director of Culinary Arts and Events. (Yes, Chicago thinks so much of food that …

It has recently come to my attention that I am a notorious, card-carrying bigot. My prejudice was so deeply rooted — and deeply hidden — that I thought I was a pretty accepting, politically correct …

Look down to change the radio station while driving west on Route N111 in central Portugal, and it’s possible to buzz by the tiny, nearly empty village of Tentúgal. Composed of  small cluster of streets, …

Last October, Sonja Profanter stood smiling in the crisp Alpine air, her cheeks as shiny and round as the local apples. Six foot tall in her socks, she was easily dwarfed by the jagged Dolomite …