I’m hoping that I get to go to heaven, because I’m told they’ve got a dessert bar there which offers your favorite desserts, 24/7. The chef just knows what you like; you walk up, she hands it to you. While she would definitely serve my husband a brownie with a side of chocolate ice cream, she’d be handing me (a devout vanilla head) one of these blondies, still warm from the oven… Read More

Those of you who know me well have often heard me complain about the lack of seasonal change in L.A. Well, this week, when the temperature shot up over 80º and my bitch-o-meter responded accordingly, I made a New Year’s resolution to put on a new attitude. Read More

It’s time for the holiday cookie swap again, which always throws me into a semi-panic.

I have this idea that Christmas cookies should be artful, delicately scented and decorated to reflect the charms of the season. Not the big, crude mounds of heart-stopping content that usually emerge from my oven.

But this year I’ve decided to meet the cookie challenge by baking what I know, rather than attempting something that’s beyond my skill set and my patience level. Read More

Holiday shopping is in full swing, except for people (like my husband) who only start to swing at 5 p.m. on Christmas Eve. Read More

My new favorite thing is the turkey pop-up timer. Just stick it in your bird on Thursday and take the guesswork out of judging doneness. The mini-turkey’s legs will pop up (in a gesture which could be interpreted as excitement) telling you that dinner is ready.

Then the only tasks that remain are making gravy and six side dishes, intervening as Aunt Lucy pours her third crantini, and cursing silently (or not) at the family slackers who would rather watch the Ravens game than wash dishes.

Buy the bird on Amazon.

On football (i.e. TV dinner) nights, my husband is so engrossed in the sport, his hair could be on fire and he would not notice. I take the opportunity to sneak  some foods into the evening menu that he (being the pickiest eater on the planet) would otherwise reject. Read More

My new favorite things in life are these Pylones rolling salt cellars. Cleverly disguised as mutant robo-chickens, they are shakers with a difference. When a fellow diner asks you to pass the salt, these will save you a lot of unnecessary exercise. Read More

Vegetable soup always reminds me of my mother-in-law. This is because she used to feed her family “Saturday Soup,” so named because she made it on Saturdays, using Campbell’s vegetable soup as a base and adding leftovers from the week’s meals. Bette’s kids ate the soup happily, oblivious to the fact that it contained finely chopped brisket from Tuesday’s dinner, or the spaghetti  from Thursday’s. Read More

Last weekend, a rare thing happened. I was grateful it was football season. This is because my daughter, who usually reserves most of her weekend time for her boyfriend, Lee, got ditched by the guy in favor of the Ravens or the Packers or whoever it was roughhousing on TV that afternoon. Lee announced his intention to occupy the couch for at least seven hours, which meant that Elizabeth (who tolerates football but only for about fifteen minutes at a time) was free to go shoe shopping with me. Read More

It began at a cocktail party in Baltimore, at which three couples had a lively discussion about which of the husbands present was the laziest when it came to domestic work. None of the men cook, only two can handle a screwdriver, all are chore-phobic. After a few martinis, the guys offered to make up for years of slothfulness by preparing an elegant dinner for their long-suffering wives. Read More