I had the world's strangest roommate. We were best friends in college
and she seemed like the perfect person to live with. She was a great
listener, she was obsessed with Clive Owen and her purse was always
stocked with remedies to just about anything – creams, lotions, pills,
even powders. Everything was going great, until one day, it just
wasn't. Her once mild room-dancing had started to rival the sound of a
herd of elephants, her attempts to match our outfits had turned from
sort of cute to sort of single-white-female (except that she's five
feet tall and Asian) and she had invited her new best friend to come
live with us for a month, without consulting me. She finally decided to
move out, taking her friend with her. And they went amicably enough.
I came home with my friend Amanda that night to cook dinner, so excited
to have the place to ourselves. We skipped around the apartment, lay
down on the floor of the now empty second room and made our way into
the kitchen to create a culinary masterpiece to celebrate our freedom.
That's when we found out that she'd decided to take all of our utensils
with her. Every last one, except . . . my dainty, little, silver cake
knife.
Cooking Techniques and Kitchen Gadgets
Cooking and Gadgets
Pasta Water
My friend Gianni — one of the original Fat Boys – called me today. He’s been buried in work for a couple of weeks and we haven’t been much in touch.
“Mikey, I had the cacio e pepe at Eataly last night. You gotta try it; it’s the best cacio e pepe I’ve ever had.”
This was at 2:00 in the afternoon and it was raining. I had kind of settled in for the day.
“Life is short, man. Have I ever led you astray in terms of a plate of pasta? This is the stuff of legends.”
“I’ll meet you at the subway in ten minutes.”
Gianni, of course, was dead on about the pasta. We ate at the bar, so that we could watch the guys work the pasta station. Also because the tables were full. I sipped a primitivo; he had rosé. We shared a cauliflower, fennel, celery root and Asian pear salad – all sliced trasparente — which cleansed our palates and sharpened our senses.
Then came the spaghetti cacio e pepe and I must say, Gianni was not blowing smoke. This was a first-rate bowl of pasta, which, by the way, we did not share. Neither of us feels particularly comfortable nor genetically directed toward that concept. We each had our own privately owned and controlled bowl.
Cooking with Diane: Part 2
I think I'm taking this cooking business a little more seriously than I thought I would. You may not actually call it cooking. It's more Sandra Lee than, say, Ina Garten. But I think I am truly more Sandra Lee than Ina Garten. In the days when my kids were actually kids, I got a meal on the table every night. Sometimes I did a complicated dish, but mainly it was throw together. And they loved it. To this day, when asked, any of the three of them will point to my tuna casserole as the finest of meals.
Noodles, canned tuna, canned peas, parmesan cheese, buttered dish. Who couldn't turn that baby out. In my present circumstance, cooking for one but cooking lots of it for "later", kind of rules out the fabled tuna casserole. So I'm turning to some of the other family favorite standbys, that actually also involve cans.
Did you know, for example, that a truly delicious way to make sweet and sour meatballs involves simmering a can of Sauce Arturo with a can of whole cranberry sauce and then dropping meatballs of your liking in, and cooking, is foolproof. If only there were canned rice.
The Kitchen Survival Kit

The TEN THINGS (even if you don’t cook) to keep in your KITCHEN at all times (so you can make yourself something decent to eat for breakfast, lunch or dinner) even if you only shop for real food once a month:
The Wife I Always Wanted
Sometimes we post letters that one of us receives just because they're so hilarious and on-point. That's how we feel about Don Seigel's response to Tracy Newman when she invited him to hear her play at Genghis Cohen.
Tray,

Regrettably, we won't be able to make the show on Saturday night. I
forgot that I invited my father-in-law over that night for dinner and
the Pacquio fight. We will, however, catch you the next time you are
there, or somewhere else.
As far as my cooking, I have discovered the absolute delight of the slow cooker. We've had one for years, but I never used it until a few months ago. Since then I have picked up a wonderful cookbook with recipes designed specifically for the slow cooker from Williams-Sonoma.
Yesterday, after dropping Julian off at school in the morning I returned home to make a Cuban Chicken. I cut up a chicken into eight pieces and browned the pieces for ten minutes in three tablespoons of olive oil and salt before placing them into the cooker.
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