Yahoo! Summer is still here. The Hitching Lot Farmers' Market is still thriving and bursting with color, conversation and culinary promise.
Please excuse me if I've said this before, but I seem to have replaced my obsession with buying shoes with an obsession for buying corn.
Summertime entertaining and salsa go together like, well, chips and salsa. With all of the fresh ingredients available at the Hitching Lot Farmers' Market in Columbus and other area farmers' markets, now is the time to forsake the jarred version and put a little love into the bowl.
When the heat and humidity get to be too much a refreshing glass of agua fresca is just the thing.
For the month of June the Hitching Lot Farmers' Market teamed with the Friends of the Columbus-Lowndes Library to present Table Talks with a food theme.
With the farmers' markets getting more and more bountiful, it is time to load up your plate or bowl with all these beautiful colors and flavors.
The abundance of English peas at the Hitching Lot Farmers' Market in Columbus this season has been welcome.
Splash! Grandson Jackson began summer on Monday by jumping into a pool for his inaugural dip. Memorial Day weekend is over and fun and sun have officially begun.
Granted, it was a tad chilly last Saturday morning, but several souls wrapped up in long sleeves and came to my cooking demo on using hothouse tomatoes at The Hitching Lot Farmers' Market.
While the Suzuki Strings played in the background, I wandered around the Hitching Lot Farmers' Market in Columbus Saturday and bought some tomatoes and strawberries. We are still betwixt and between seasons, but what could be better than tomatoes and strawberries?
A week ago Terry and I drove to Chattanooga, Tenn., for a wonderful weekend. The impetus for the trip was another of the Southern Foodways Alliance event, this time a Potlikker Film Festival held at Warehouse Row in Chattanooga. Two of my favorite people (who happen to be married) live on Lookout Mountain, so we needed little incentive to go.
I have been working on a project at my dining table for five or so days. I had gotten to the point of recipe overload and really was forced to take all of those little pages torn out of magazines and recipes from Momma's recipe box and the dirty, greasy ones from my Foodworks binder and just lay them all out in designated piles.
Whew, I'm off the road for a while and so glad of it! After four days in Miami and then four in Athens, Ga., two weeks in a row, I'm thankful to wake up at home and have to plan a day here.
It’s oyster season, and I’m hankering for a trip to Apalachicola for an oyster orgy. I’ve only been to this part of Florida — the Forgotten Panhandle, as it’s known — once several years ago on a Southern Foodways Alliance field trip. Terry and I spent three days with others learning about the challenges facing the U.S. oystermen, going out with them on their boats, with tongs, shucking oysters, eating oysters, smoking mullet and worm grunting (hunting for earthworms). I came home with a deeper appreciation of these men and women and the hard work they do.
If you are lucky enough, your mother or grandmother had a recipe box that now lives in your own kitchen. I don’t know many cooks who actively keep one nowadays. I think the advent of instant recipes via the Internet, along with enough published cookbooks to warrant their own section in bookstores, have lessened the importance of saving passed-down recipes. And, many of these passed-down recipes have lost their relevance to today’s cook, with amounts given in pinches, or ingredients that include such items as oleo or prunes (lots of prunes in those old recipes).
As I emptied my satchel Monday, I wondered how many of my friends attend symposiums (such an educated word) and return with: homemade peppered jerky, individually-packaged cookies from famed Momofuku Restaurant in New York City, a blueberry muffin-shaped kitchen timer, Martha White blueberry muffin mix, harmonicas from the National Peanut Board and the remains of a dark chocolate, grilled jalapeno and salty peanut candy bar? (I could eat another one right now if I had one).
We love seafood and could eat it every day if we had access. Access is the obstacle in a land-locked town, especially a small town. Even a moderate-sized town such as Athens, Ga., with 150,000, doesn’t have a seafood shop. There, we depended on our local organic grocery store, Earthfare, which at least had several deliveries a week of some of the basic fish, like wild-caught salmon or tuna. Plus, they also sold only dry-pack shrimp and scallops.
Terry and I had a sort of date night at home recently. It had been a busy week, and we got to spend all of a Saturday together, beginning at the Hitching Lot and ending with steaks grilling on the hibachi outside. I made some wonderful, crispy oven potatoes from “Cooks Illustrated” and broccoli with hollandaise sauce.
I catered a luncheon for 90 recently, and the preparations went swimmingly for the most part. As is true to form for me I was totally organized for the first three days of cooking, and then I tend to sort of fall apart the last 24 hours. So, the afternoon prior to the event I had to run out to the grocery store for a couple of items I had left off of the previous list. I did the unthinkable: I went to the store without a list!
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