Passover is my least favorite Jewish holiday, even in a roster of celebrations that includes Yom Kippur, a day when you are supposed to fast while you think of all the people you've hurt in the last year. Passover is the worst because it lasts an entire week and comes right before Easter. I remember sitting quietly at lunch in elementary school, listening to my friends talk excitedly of all the chocolate they had eaten on Sunday, while I slowly chewed on my matzo. In fact, matzo in some form or another is the base of almost everything that one can eat during Passover. For those who don't know, matzo is a dry, sheet-like cracker. The entire baking process that goes into creating it, from mixing the dough to placing it in the oven, must be completed in less than a surprisingly specific 18 minutes, or else it must be thrown out.
Since coming to Maine, I find I don't get to drink bubble tea as often as I would like to, but when I do I always remember how much I enjoy the contrast between the chewy tapioca balls and the smooth, sweet tea.
My great-grandmother used to make these cookies, which is how my family came to call them "Millie cookies." The recipe, however, sounds like something out of Paula Deen's kitchen. The cookies require two sticks of butter and the dough is so rich that you don't even need to butter the cookie sheet to prevent sticking. They've become less popular in my house since the late '90s—when my parents realized cholesterol was a thing—but these cookies were a constant part of my childhood.
While the New England weather might be cold, gray and depressing, I find that eating colorful, cheerful foods can make the winter months seem less dark and drab, and this spicy avocado rice is definitely colorful. It is, in fact, almost disconcertingly green.
Some things are supposed to come in a box. Shoes are one example. Rings, computers and board games also come in boxes, as they should. But macaroni and cheese? I suppose an argument could be made for convenience. Kraft is easy, Kraft is quick, Kraft is cheap, and Kraft gathers all the ingredients you need together, packaging them in expedient, individual plastic bags. But macaroni and cheese from scratch does not take particularly long to make, none of the ingredients require much prep time, and macaroni and cheese from scratch tastes infinitely better than macaroni and cheese from a box. It's sort of like the time that I bought a frozen pack of Wyngz. They did not taste particularly good, and I asked myself why I hadn't bought real chicken wings, instead of a product that appeared to be created by a fourth grader using imaginative spellyngz. So make your own macaroni and cheese using this recipe. Because if you don't, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.
There is nothing better than soup in the winter. And though it is not quite winter yet, I still like soup in the fall. So this week, I made a fall matzo ball soup. And though it was delicious, it probably would have been better in December.
I often wish that my day-to-day life involved sitting at a long, dark-stained wooden table set with Limoges china and eating beluga caviar with a serving spoon, or shaving black truffles onto pasta with the thick side of a grater, while simultaneously quaffing Cristal straight from the bottle.
I took no pleasure in watching her take that first bite. The rhythmic movements of her cheek muscles served to disguise the pain and anguish behind her gray-blue eyes. She knew what she was doing, I suppose.
"Every college student needs a Bundt pan," my mother said sarcastically as she watched me pack. She should have known I would take this as a challenge.
Living at Bowdoin, home of the country's best dining halls, an apartment kitchen might seem superfluous. Well-utilized, however, a kitchen can provide freedom, fun and food, three staples of college life.
