Unfortunately, I raised boys who also want them, so now and then we need to have all-wing dinners. For us wing-lovers, wings — as a main dish or snacking food — are pure heaven. I especially like when the wing tip is extra crispy and I can chew it down to the end, like a potato chip. My husband started cutting them off and cooking them separately to snack on, which also allows more wings to fit on a baking sheet. Wings can also be separated in 2 for smaller portions, detatching the drumette at the joint.
Serve with a bottle of hot sauce at the table. Diet feature, it was really about the underbelly of my real life. Which was kind of interesting. How do you generally come to learn about L. Like the biggest thing about Picca last night, my friend was taking me there, and I was just so busy working, so if I had known that it was going to be loud and noisy and a potential hit-and-miss, I would have put the kibosh on that right away and gone to get like old-school Mexican or something like that.
Of course in New York, on the television show, there are so many people I work with who live in L. I think Jonathan Gold is a trustworthy voice. Does eating out in L. I read so many cookbooks. I read so much media. But it really comes down to getting a reservation, getting yourself into a car or cab or whatever, and getting there.
You throw a couple of drinks on that and it becomes a lot more complicated. We just fall into a cab if we have to. It does require a strategy and planning.
So has there ever been anything in L. Many of the people in his family is skeptical about her ability to cook Italian food, and she ends up learning how to cook their food better than they did, in a way.
Without losing the essence of the dishes, my mother figured out ways to feed more people quickly. She was efficient. Like the meatballs, my father's family had a particular way of cooking everything. When they'd make stuffed artichokes, they'd trim every artichoke and stuff them one by one. My mother was basically like, "Nope. She put all the artichoke hearts in the casserole, dressed them with bread crumbs and all that stuff that goes in there.
Suddenly, my mother was able to feed more people easily and she did that time and time again. She was feeding a family of six with home cooked meals at a time when frozen food and TV dinners were being foisted upon American housewives. She stuck to cooking dinner for your family, which is what the core of my work is. And when I got off the air my father called me. That situation inspired the way I think about food because, when you pass things down, people adapt them to their own way of doing things.
In a way that makes sense to them. So I'm never hesitant to give out or publish a recipe, or give away secrets, because cooking is in the hands of the beholder. You didn't really ask if you were happy enough. You just kept doing it. I'm out. I'm going to go try this, or do that. That freedom to pursue what makes sense to me as a person, and not be discouraged by where that takes me. Simplicity is the height of sophistication. There were times when I overdid things because I thought I had to. Or added layers on because it seemed like it would be better, cooler or more of a player if had that a lot going on.
What I know now is that the most exciting is the most stripped back. The most essential. It comes right back down to cooking, you know? I'm always asking myself what can I make that will combine the most powerful natural flavors with the fewest amount of ingredients. Often that comes down to mastering the technique and quality of ingredients—and restraint. The smallest things often have the biggest impact. Apple pocket pies.
They're good and really fun to make. You peel and slice a couple apples. Toss with some sugar, flour; a pinch of salt and cinnamon. Then you roll out your favorite pie dough. Cut it in squares. Place some apple filling in the square. Fold them over, pinch the edges of the dough closed with a fork. At first, I drew from the scant pantry stocked with finds from recent trips.
There I found year-old dry ancho chilies, beans and masa harina made for a Mexican meal like one eaten in Oaxaca last year. Also, noodles, shitake dry mushrooms and kombu seaweed make a replicate of a memorable soup from a recent visit to Osaka, Japan. This morning I had leftover rice and dal from a beloved page-worn Indian cookbook.
So, I promised myself to support our local farmers and purveyors with delivery purchases. I confessed my appreciation for bougie butter in a Washington Post article last year; the preparation led me down a rabbit hole of cooking and tasting every European-style butter available for purchase.
I had to assure myself that my Vermont bias was not tainting my taste buds or my judgment. It turns out, that when it comes to butter—fresh and local matters.
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