Seattle may spend eight months out of twelve under cloudy skies, but
come summer, it puts on its sunscreen and pulls out all the stops. There
are countless concerts and block parties and festivals here...
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Alright, people. I know what you’re thinking. Man, Molly’s sure been sucking down the butter these days. How about those fritters? Did Orangette get sponsored by a cardiologist or something?
By all...
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My French host mother was tall, trim, and proper, with a
sing-song voice and a name that skipped and chimed and rang off the
tongue. She moved through the house as though on pointe—softly but
decisively—and...
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I’m writing this from Oklahoma City, from my old bedroom in my mother’s
house, where I used to, as a teenager, write gushy poems about
18-year-old boys with sideburns. I had a real thing for 18-year-old...
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I would like to sit down here today and write as though everything were
normal, as though I were actually capable of forming complete sentences.
But the truth is, I am an absolute maniac. Tomorrow...
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Like so many others who love the warmth of the stove, I once thought that I wanted to be a chef. One of my half-brothers
had gone to cooking school, so it seemed only natural. Never mind the
fact that...
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When it comes to Seattle’s infamously rainy weather, I’m usually pretty
nonchalant. Sure, it may be gray for roughly eight months of the year,
but the clouds make a nice, fleecy blanket, insulating...
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When I left Seattle this morning, the city was still tucked snugly under
a heavy blanket of clouds. It’s been this way for a week or two now,
with autumn beginning its slow, sad tease, sending in
an...
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We left our window open last night, and when I woke up today, there was
rain on the sill! I am wearing a scarf that I made! Let the hoarding
of plums commence!What
I thought about saying next was,...
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Earlier this week, I think it was, one of you kindly wrote to me, asking
if I might do a post about what I’ve been eating for lunch lately. The
reader who wrote to me is pregnant, and there are a number...
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It was a circuitous route that brought me to le pain de Gênes, the sunny yellow French cake rich with butter, eggs, and almond paste,
and I never would have made it without a former New York cabbie...
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About a million years ago, by which I mean last Thanksgiving, I mentioned on Twitter
that my cousins had made an olive oil cake for our mothers’ birthday
dinner. Our mothers are identical twins, born...
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This is getting serious.Last week my friend Doron e-mailed to tell me about a dream he’d had in which he’d gone into a store and picked up “any and every kitchen tool in existence.”
From microplane zesters...
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Les Eyzies-de-Tayac is a village nestled under a cliff alongside the Vézère River in the beautiful Dordogne region of southwestern France. The self-proclaimed “capitale mondiale de la préhistoire,” it...
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