A Few of My Favorite Things Thank you for supporting Dinner: A Love Story. As a token of my appreciation, I’d like to offer you the chance to win one of these gifts. They aren’t just items — each one was chosen for this promotion because it fits right in with our philosophy of parenting and cooking. To be eligible to win, follow two simple steps. 1) Take a look at this
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God knows, it’s not that I don’t love the kid. I have pledged my undying devotion to her here — she’s our firstborn, is kind to animals, has the soul of a poet, and is generally an all-around solid performer at the table. But Phoebe does not eat pasta. Phoebe, in fact, actively dislikes pasta. She hasn’t touched the stuff in five years. She wrinkles up her nose at the
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We could not have been luckier to find Ali, our current babysitter who comes twice a week in the afternoons while I attempt to piece together a freelance career. Beyond the fact that Ali has a clean driving record, always shows up on time, texts me with we’re-at-piano status updates all day long (no such thing as TMI in my house), and is generally great with the girls, she is
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Phoebe has been on a tear in the kitchen lately. I would love to say this is due to the fact that she’s watched her parents cook every night for her whole little life, and so now, at 9 1/2, her interest in cooking has finally kicked into high gear, but I think it’s more likely due to something else: Farm Camp. She has spent the last four weeks spraying
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Dear Jenny, This might sound paranoid, but one can never be too safe. I have this feeling that some kind of shadowy, proxy war has broken out in our house lately. It’s small, seemingly innocuous things that, when I add them up, suggest something more ominous might be afoot. It’s coming home every Saturday morning from the farmer’s market, unpacking the loot, and finding two or three large zucchinis staring
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It’s not like I stay up at night wondering how I’m going to get my kids to eat eggplant, but when the situation presents itself — in the form of an enormous garden-fresh farm share delivery — I’d be crazy not to try right? On Wednesday, Andy and I both came home from work later than we wanted to and found ourselves, drink in hand, pondering a mound of misshapen
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There was a time in my life when Sunday meant sitting down with my Dinner Diary and mapping out a meal plan for the week. Like this line-up from June 14-18, 2004: Monday: Fried Sole with Green Beans Tuesday: Ravioli with Green Salad Wednesday: Fajitas with Black Beans and Cheddar Thursday: Curried Chicken with Apples Friday: OUT (always in caps, always!) I remember telling a food editor friend about my meal-planning system and
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Abby: Mom, what’s for dinner? Me: Grilled cheese! Abby: For dinner???? Me: Yes! On the grill! Abby: What? The grill? Me: Yes! And without bread! Abby: What the…let me get this straight. Grilled cheese made outside on the grill with no bread? For…dinner? Me: You got it. And we’ll have some chicken and vegetables on the side.

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I’m not sure how often I’ll be chiming in between now and 2011, so I wanted to be sure to point you in the direction of anything you might need in the next 12 days. (What did Dorothy say: “If you’re looking for your own heart’s desire, don’t go further than your own backyard?”) So here it goes. If you are looking for ideas for… Afternoon Baking with the Kids:
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In the mid-90s, my father and I worked two blocks away from each other — he was on 47th and Third, and I was on 45th and Third, toiling away at my first Big City job while simultaneously trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. We’d regularly meet for lunch — at sushi bars, bagel shops or whichever cafe had a good Prix Fixe that
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I know — such a buzzkill that mom has to go ahead and add shredded vegetables to the latkes. But how else am I supposed to justify potato pancakes being the only thing on the dinner plate? Simple Potato Latkes Adapted from Faye Levy’s International Jewish Cookbook Grate 3 large russet potatoes and 1 small onion in a food processer using the shredding disk. Drain in a colander and add
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Rachael Ray would call a recipe like this a 30-minute meal. Cooking Light would call it “Superfast.” Gourmet (RIP) would have called it “Gourmet Everyday.” But when I was working on the food pages in magazines, I used to call it a classic Tuesday Night Dinner. Because in my mind, Tuesday is the night when you need the surefire shot of confidence the most. Tuesday is not Monday, when you either
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My 3-year-old nephew Nathan is not a big fan of vegetables. Or the idea of eating in general. I spent a few days and many meals with him on vacation last month and watched as his dad — my brother — agonized over each crumb that did and didn’t go down the hatch. Annie’s Mac & Cheese is pretty much his only ace-in-the-hole option — that is, the only food
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When my childhood best friend Jeni got married ten years ago, my mom and I threw her a shower in our house. I still remember the menu. Probably because I wrote it down in my Dinner Diary but also because it was so perfect if I do say so myself! There was a baked goods and pastry spread, a smoked salmon and bagels station, and my mom and I each
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1. Because it’s arguably easier and faster than cooking up another pot of Annie’s Mac & Cheese. 2. Because the afternoon birthday party served pizza at 4:00. (What is up with these parties? Will someone please enlighten?) 3. Because the clock is ticking and the kids won’t be awake by the time your dreamy white wine sauce has reduced. 4. Because you live in Dallas, I mean New York, where
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When her daughters were little, my friend Frances somehow convinced them that green beans were related to French fries. She called them Green Fries. I was so jealous — my kids had been to too many restaurants with Kidz menus by that point to be suckered by what seemed like unbelievably JV kitchen trickery to me. If my kids (and most kids I imagine) were going to eat a healthy
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Sides and Starters Curried Carrots with Butter Rosa’s Lentil Salad Bibb Lettuce with Summer Peas Romano Bean and Tomato Salad with Preserved Lemon Potatoes with Mayo, Chives, and Preserved Lemon Guacamole Steamed Little Necks Cheater’s Naan Fennel and Apple Slaw Sauteed Chard with Horseradish Fava Bean Crostini Twice Baked Potatoes (pictured, center) Grilled Vegetables with Haloumi Roasted Spring Ramps Asparagus with Chopped Egg and Onion Quinoa Salad with Roast Tomatoes
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In some ways I feel like I could tell my life’s story through the breaded chicken cutlet. It started with my mother: Mom could make a chicken cutlet. Crispy, golden, never overcooked. When I was growing up, she’d serve them with sautéed garlicky zucchini wedges. I’d slap the cold leftovers on a baguette with a slather of mayo. No one could replicate it. Then, when I was in fourth grade,
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