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Leite's Culinaria

Why, hello! Leite's Culinaria is the James Beard Award-winning site that helps home cooks and bakers put dinner on the table and laughs in the kitchen. Hungry for more? Join more than 30,000 food lovers and subscribe.

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It's Soup (or Stew) o'Clock Somewhere

Hi Reader, The first truly cold day always catches me off guard. I’ll be typing away, pretending productivity, when I realize my shoulders have crept up around my ears like I’m auditioning for “The Hunchback of Roxbury.” That’s my cue - it’s soup o’clock.The One rolls his eyes when I declare it, but he knows the ritual: stock pot, wooden spoon, something starchy, something soulful. Within minutes, the kitchen fogs up like a Portuguese sauna, and the windows sweat in solidarity.I used to think...

Hi Reader, There’s a moment every December when the kitchen quietly changes its tune. Not a full-blown Hallmark movie kind of thing. More like the sigh of cinnamon, the shushing of cold butter being grated, and the faint click of a wooden spoon finding its rhythm again. That feeling is what sparked this month’s special series: My 5 Days of Classic Christmas Cooking. The story behind it A while back, I tried to make every holiday dish I’d ever loved. The show-stoppers, the old-school...

Classic Shortbread Cookies

Hi Reader, Every December, I tell myself this will be the year I glide through the season like Martha-freaking-Stewart on a sleigh. I’ll bake ahead. I’ll gift-wrap like an adult. I’ll remember where I hid the presents. And yet every December, I end up standing in front of the oven at 3 AM, flour in my hair, muttering, “I hate the holidays!” And always feeling guilty. So, so guilty. (You can read all about my pathological guilt in this essay.) Still, there’s something about the glow of that...

Hi Reader, I sometimes love Thanksgiving leftovers more than the actual Thanksgiving dinner. Let’s be honest: The pressure is off, the kitchen is calmer, and you can eat straight from the fridge in sweatpants without judgment. That, my friends, is freedom.In our house, the leftover ritual is sacred. The One constructs sandwiches so tall they required engineering blueprints—layers of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, even a little gravy for “moisture control.” Me? I whip up Thanksgiving pot...

Thanksgiving Turkey

Hi Reader, By the time Thanksgiving Eve (today!) rolls around, I always imagine everyone else is where I am: fridge groaning, turkey dry-brining, stock made, pie dough chilling, and at least one relative already getting on your nerves. That’s because I’m a little…intense about Thanksgiving. I start on Saturday with a five-day schedule. (Yes, a schedule schedule. Color-coded. Don’t judge.) But this year, I stumbled across an article that said the busiest day for grocery shopping for...

Hi Reader, Let’s get something straight: I have nothing against turkey. I’ve brined it, buttered it, massaged it like a Swedish spa therapist, and once—God help me—even sous vided it. But let’s be honest. Not everyone swoons over the big bird come Thanksgiving. Some people—clutch pearls—just don’t like turkey. Others have suffered one too many dry slices smothered in lumpy gravy at a second cousin’s folding table. And us? The One has been known to make Thanksgiving in the middle of April, and...

Hi Reader, I’ll never forget my first carving attempt. It wasn't a turkey. No, I had to go all-in on a goose! This was Christmas 1988, when I was young, thin, and beautiful. (You can read the full account here.) Because I figured geese were just like turkeys, I turned the bird over and over, searching for that little pop-up thermometer thingy before roasting it. I found none. When it came time to eat, I steeled myself and began slicing. But every time I cut, I hit bone. The knife just slid...

Hello Reader, I’ve been thinking a lot about Lisbon lately—because next May, The One and I are going back. And we want you to join us. Whenever I think of Lisbon, a certain version of myself comes flooding back: younger (thinner!), wide-eyed, lugging far too many notebooks, and trying to capture the tastes and rhythms of Portugal while writing The New Portuguese Table. ☞ LEARN MORE I lived in Lisbon for months at a time. Not as a tourist, not as a passer-through, but as someone trying to...

Hi Reader, When I was younger—and oh-so-very single—I treated Thanksgiving the way some people treat a new relationship: with enthusiasm, optimism, and absolutely no sense of boundaries. I experimented. Wildly. Indiscriminately. One year, I made turkey-mashed-potato-and-stuffing burritos because…why not? Another time, I ditched the 18-dish spread and instead crafted a Thanksgiving pot pie that crammed the entire holiday—turkey, stuffing, gravy, the whole dysfunctional family—under one crust....

Hi Reader, True story: one year, I cooked Thanksgiving like I was auditioning for Survivor: Roxbury Edition. I started at dawn, juggling pies, stuffing, potatoes, sides, and a turkey the size of a mini-fridge. By the time dessert rolled around, I was slumped in my chair, fork dangling midair, too tired to taste the very pies I'd threatened to leave The One over if he even so much as touched them. After our guests left, I crawled, and I do mean crawl, to bed, leaving the kitchen looking not...