It started with a mystery jar of jam and turned into a reflection on expired expectations. A fridge clean-out, a forgotten frittata, and the surprising peace that comes with tossing what no longer serves you.
It started with a mystery jar of jam and turned into a reflection on expired expectations. A fridge clean-out, a forgotten frittata, and the surprising peace that comes with tossing what no longer serves you.
know better, but I don’t always do better. These are the humbling kitchen lessons I keep relearning—from onions to vinaigrettes to cakes.
poured more wine instead of giving away my Cuban chorizo stuffing recipe. Not because it was complicated—but because it was personal. Here’s why.
Food is a long relationship — not a crush. Some days I love it; other days saltines and Chardonnay are all I want. Here’s the truth about being a chef when the passion wears thin.
Some people resist the world with poetry or silence. Me? I add salt.
The best dinner parties aren’t perfect. Mine started with thrifted plates, a collapsing chair, and a gloopy dessert — and turned into a memory I’ll never forget.
I’ve been putting balsamic vinegar on everything lately—even ice cream. I should probably stop, but I won’t. Some obsessions are seasonal. Some are personal.
I remember when the pumpkin spice latte showed up—I thought it would fade. It didn’t. Here’s my homemade pumpkin spice blend that works in brewed coffee and on dinner.
Some recipes don’t sound fancy, but they’re unforgettable. Chef Alexis shares the story behind his mother’s puckery iceberg salad — and how he makes it now.
If I’m alone, I don’t sauté—I open a can. This is the no-shame, no-frills recipe I turn to when nobody’s watching (and I’m not using a real spoon).