Sunday Dinners Articles
Today: Tom cooks up Lentil Cakes Tikka Masala to end a perfect Father's Day weekend.
We have a tradition for Father's Day weekend. A few years back, we started going to my brother's cabin in the woods -- a little Walden, really, pond and all. We go with another family: a high school buddy of mine, his wife, and their three daughters.Read More »
Today: Tom muses on the raw materials of the kitchen and why he cooks over a plate of Ham-Cured Goose Legs with Butter-Poached Peas and Carrots.
Just the other day, my dad was leaning against the fence watching the chickens do what chickens do while I knelt nearby, weeding some rogue arugula out from around the grapes. All the while, we engaged in a round of small talk.
Soon enough, the conversation turned to the chickens.Read More »
Today: Tom gets into a tight spot with some bees -- but makes the most of his situation with a honey granola tart.
"Crazy-drive, dad, crazy-drive," both girls yell in unison from the back seat of the car.
So in the soft yellow light of a warm spring morning, I do. I weave the car back and forth, fishtailing and tossing gravel from the drive into the tall prairie grass all the way up to the bus stop. If it wasn't so fun, it would be an offense to the quiet of first light.Read More »
Today: A trip to New Mexico throws Tom off balance in all the best ways -- plus, a recipe for Corn Tamales with Swiss Chard
In New Mexico the sky is bigger than the ground. When every crevice or rise on the long flat plains is your only sense of place, it is easy to feel insignificant. For me in this situation, it is best to find an anchor. Something to tie me to the dirt under my boots. A spiritual weight, so to speak.Read More »
Today: Tom tells us about the two little reasons he will always garden.
It all starts with peas, well, at least for us it did. It really is that simple.
It is late in the day when I walk around from the back of the house after I finish cutting the grass. What I see is Vivian, standing at the edge of the pea patch, eating, and eating, pea after perfectly sugary and ripe pea. The intensity in her little blue eyes and the smile on her lips says it all.Read More »
Today: Tom takes a long, hard look at his stack of cookbooks.
I used to read a lot of cookbooks. Not in the literary sense; no, I simply read them for the recipes and then tossed them back onto the stack. I feel guilty about this past -- whenever I read a novel I usually skip all the preliminary stuff too. No preface, no foreword, no nothing. I go right to chapter one, or in the case of a cookbook, the first recipe. When one of the first novels I remember reading gave away the story in the first few pages of the foreword, I distinctly remember thinking, "I won't do that again." So it has become habit to just skip to chapter one.Read More »
Tom pens an achingly beautiful letter to one of his culinary heroes, Jacques Pépin.Read More »