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Pancakes and Eggs
When I was growing up, my father didn’t cook all that much. He made excellent spaghetti on occasion. Once, when we had just moved into a new house, he cooked up a concoction of fried eggs on English...
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The 7th and Italian Baked Beans
Remember my Paris lives? I crossed one of them the other day. As one of my many, many jobs, I teach math to a young Canadian girl who lives in the 7th. I finish at 7pm; my sister finishes her last...
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Asparagus Ranchero-Style Tostadas
Little sister is going to be ever-so-pleased that I’m finally posting this recipe. Not because she particularly liked it, though I like to think she did… more because this is one of only very few...
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Tomato Bruschetta
So long sweet summer I stumbled upon you and gratefully basked in your rays So long sweet summer I fell into you, now you’re gracefully falling away. – “So Long Sweet Summer,” Dashboard Confessional...
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Chicken and Mac
This weekend, I saw some friends I haven’t seen in awhile. They reminded me that it’s been nearly three years since my brother came to stay, had dinner with us on The Country Boy’s terrace, spoke in...
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Krakow and Polish Sausages
Last week, I saw my grandfather’s face beneath the black cap of a priest with a floor-brushing robe, dusting the frost from the streets of Krakow as he moved with a purpose to God knows where. God...
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Christmas Cookies
Have I told you that the Sous-Chef moved to Paris? Well, she did. It’s been more than four years since we first met in Paziols, and she’s featured on this blog more than half a dozen times. For this...
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Mediterranean Pasta with Feta Sauce and Used Books
When I was growing up, my father called me Emily Reader. The capitalization is my own, an interpretation of the way he said it. As though that were my name. My mother called me Emma Louise; my father...
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Spinach Risotto and Roasted Cherry Tomatoes
“Inferior people talk about others, average people talk about things, superior people talk about ideas.” -Dr. Robert Monaco I don’t think that I’m alone in that I never met my paternal grandfather. I...
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A Rose is a Rose is a Rose
Last night, I went to mass with the Country Boy’s grandmother. As much as my father likes to believe that France is a Catholic country, it’s not. It hasn’t been, really, since the 1950s or 60s. Of his...
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Stories from the Préfecture: My Christmas Present to Myself
Someday, I promise myself, I’ll write all this down. Someday it will turn into a book. A story. Something funny, where the reader empathizes with the narrator and yet has no idea how to empathize,...
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How the Grinch (ahem… the French Administration) Tried to Steal Christmas and...
This is only the second year in the nearly eight that I’ve lived here that I’ve spent Christmas in France, but it’s the first time it happened at least partially by choice. I could have gone home this...
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Chicken, Blackberries, Feta, Mango, Spinach & 10 Things I Really Like About...
I really like French trains. Not because they’re usually on time, which, in my experience (and contrary to most), they tend to be, and not because they’re inexpensive, which, in general, they are...
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Charred Tomato, White Anchovy, Chimichurri Tartine & 10 Things I Don’t Like...
When I moved to France, I had no image of what it would be like, no wildly romantic notions of France or Paris. In fact, I fell in love with Paris slowly. I kind of prefer it that way. But like...
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What Does Thanksgiving Mean When You’re an Expat?
This year, I’ll be in London on Thanksgiving. That in and of itself isn’t all that odd — I’ve done Thanksgiving in London before, at my friend’s apartment, where she had a real oven, and I could invite...
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Postcard from Lenox, Massachusetts
1. Traveling to Lenox, Massachusetts (and taking walks in the neighborhood) has become one of my family’s more recent Christmas traditions. 2. There’s a little pond not far from the house we rent,...
View ArticleRoasted Whole Carrots and Crispy Spiced Chickpeas
Sunday was my father’s birthday. He doesn’t visit me in Paris very often, but he did, a few years ago, for two very rainy weeks in May. While we unfortunately spent much of our time watching Breaking...
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Monday Postcard from St. Louis
1. The Gateway Arch is the main monument to see in St. Louis, and it definitely stands out. It’s dedicated to the western expansion of the United States, which is why it’s sometimes called the gateway...
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Wednesday Bites: Eating in St. Louis
When I was in St. Louis at the end of last year, my dad, ever the epicure, decided to show me some of the local fare. My father is the one who first introduced me to a true New York slice, at Patsy’s...
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Squash-Ginger Soup with Beef Kofte
There are a few phrases from my childhood – phrases my mom said so often that we sometimes call them Jean-isms – that are so engrained that, even now, my adult siblings and I still say them to one...
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