The Crabby Cook - by Jessica Harper

My nephew, who lives in a tiny New York apartment, called me with a recipe emergency. He’d invited a new Potential Girlfriend (PGF) over for dinner and wanted to cook something that was cheap and easy but impressive. I thought this was ambitious for a guy whose cooking skills are limited to pouring cereal and microwaving popcorn, but I had an idea. Read More

With our daughters off at college, my husband and I were home on Sunday, staring at the jack-o-lanterns I carved (or rather, drilled—see instructional video), missing the kid-filled Halloweens of the past, with all the costume obsessing and sugar rushing. This year, we didn’t even know the name of Disney’s current ruling princess, whose dress was worn by a multitude of girls on Sunday, just as her predecessors’ gowns dressed up our daughters.
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So I heard this news story about a really stupid burglar.

In eastern Pennsylvania the other day, this guy apparently broke into a house, ransacked the place, then, in a fit of personal grooming, cut his own hair and took a shower. But that’s not all. Next, neatly coiffed and shower fresh, he snapped on the TV and fried some chicken. Read More

I’ve often used the expression, “once in a blue moon” but never knew its origin. I only knew that it implied infrequency, as in, “My husband cooks only once in a blue moon,” a complaint I have made a thousand times.

When I heard that there would be an actual blue moon on this past New Year’s Eve, I did a little research. Now I know: a blue moon is the second of two full moons in one month, and you only get one about every two and a half years. Read More

My friend Suzanne is one lucky bitch.

She recently sent me an email, which began, “Tonight Adam and his buddies are making the following meal for themselves.”

Okay, I had to pause there for a second. Adam is Suzanne’s fifteen year-old son, just so you know, so already I was choking with envy: I have thus far never had the opportunity to write a sentence like that regarding my own children. Plus, aren’t teenage boys supposed to be out zooming around on motorcycles, rebelling without a cause? What’s up with this? Read More

Wolverine Salad

If your Salad Hands are making you feel like Wolverine (to read the back story on that peculiar thought, click here) I suggest you stoke that fantasy and make a salad in his honor. And if you really believe, who knows, maybe Hugh Jackman will show up for dinner. (Sigh.)

¼ cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 chicken breast, skinless and boneless, halved Read More

When I’m desperate (5pm, no idea what’s for dinner), my default plan is to roast a chicken. Nobody doesn’t like roast chicken, which makes it a Miracle Food in a house like mine which is full of picky people. You throw it in the oven and then you’ve got an hour to figure out what you’re going to serve with it, or to address more compelling tasks, like making a martini.

I have to resist the temptation to serve this every day, it’s such comfort food. Just ask my fat dog Oliver, who made off with last week’s chicken when my back was turned, and had a smile on his face even after the verbal abuse. Read More