This time of year, it is frankly discomfiting to be a Jew, possibly a Muslim, indubitably an atheist. One puts aside personal traditions and cultural baggage and makes way for the big white-bearded guy with a sack of toys.
Post Tagged with: "Flavour Guy"
I am an analog guy adrift in a digital world. Adrift, but not yet lost. I have my computers and a not-so-smart phone. I tweet, check Facebook and linkup on Linkedin; yeah, I’m hip to the jive. But that doesn’t mean I want to live there. Work requires that I […]
I write about food because I could never figure out how to write about politics. Journalists are supposed to be able to write about politics, to speak truth to power, to drill down and decipher the talking points, to explain which stakeholder can separate the wheat from the chaff inside […]
A simple question: why does Montreal have so many places—restaurants and restaurant chains—featuring barbecued chicken? We have St. Hubert BBQ, Chalet BBQ, Côte St Luc BBQ, dozens of Portuguese chicken rotisseries. Scores, and a score of others. Chicken is an easy dish to make at home and there are hundreds […]
Mom. Mom in the kitchen (have I told this story before? Well maybe not this way). Mom at 80, well 80-something. Mom in her housecoat, the walker at her side. Mom with a chef’s knife raised perfectly, lined up over a live lobster. No shaking, no hesitancy, the concentration of […]
I wasn’t hungry this winter. Soup was good, thank you. Soup for lunch, for dinner. What the heck, as I eat steel cut oats on most wintery days, you might say I eat soup for breakfast too. Nothing wrong with a good soup. Take last night’s meal: Roast chicken, leftover […]
The kitchen is the most dangerous room in the house. Sure, you could conceivably drown in the bathroom, and I will leave hypothetical scenarios to your imagination. But that’s about it. It is the kitchen where true chaos can reign. Knives—blunt ones—bounce off fruit and cut through thumbs; sharp ones […]
We start with nothing. The pan is empty. The head often more so. The heart yearns for something, but what? The pan sits there on the burner. Stainless, immaculate. Tempting. It must be a pan and at least a hand’s breadth. So why not get out a pot? Ahh, but […]