I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving filled with everyone or no one you wanted to be with.
I am always flattered to have someone tell me that they have read my column or to call me with a question on something.
Last week I baked an apple for Terry -- Hasselback style -- and it had so much more appeal than a regular baked apple.
I want the weather to be cool so badly, and I can't stop thinking about winter food I want to cook such as short ribs slow-cooking in red wine, or some gumbo or dishes made with dried peas.
I did not grow up in a hunting and/or fishing family.
When I was in elementary school, lunch was milk in a paper cone and holder from a really, really cold milk dispenser, and whatever the school lunch was for that day.
Peak tomato season seems to have come and gone, but I did buy some last week at the Hitching Lot Farmer's Market and they were good.
A few weeks ago I bought a case of second tomatoes for $9 at the Jasper, Alabama, farmers' market.
I have a friend; we'll just call him "Bob," or Mr. R. He calls me after my column appears to give me a critique. It is often positive, although I have been reprimanded once or twice.
This past June, through the first week of July, was the busiest I've had in decades.
We have a small post-retirement place on a lake in Alabama. For some reason I enjoy cooking there more than I do at home, even though the dining space is tiny and the open kitchen is pretty cramped. Maybe it's the view ... who knows.
I am most definitely not a restaurant critic, although my friends will tell you that I am a critic when we go out to eat.
Strawberry season seems so short in Mississippi. A warm spring is here and then, poof, it's too hot for the luscious red berries.
We recently visited Terry's daughter and her husband and were treated to a delicious dinner of lasagna and something she called "Italian Spinach.
Recently I made a side salad to go with a sandwich lunch for a group. I had planned on potato salad but changed to macaroni salad to avoid peeling potatoes.
I have been making a half-hearted attempt to pare down my cookbooks. We hope to move into a much smaller home some day, and I have to give up something in return for asking Terry to throw out his college textbooks and notes.
Last week I spatchcocked a chicken! No need to blush; spatchcock is a culinary term referring to removing the backbone of poultry to flatten the bird for cooking.
I recently attended a lovely dinner organized by a local garden club as a fun yearly get-together.
It's been a busy cooking time for me. The Episcopal bishop of the Diocese of Mississippi was in town, and we had a luncheon for him at St Paul's Episcopal Church.
Some of us are lucky enough to have lifelong friends.
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