Hi Reader, There was a stretch of time—somewhere between deadlines, travel, and my noble attempt at Pilates—when 6 p.m. hit like a betrayal. Dinner? Again? Didn’t we just do this yesterday? That’s when I learned the art of the preemptive strike: a little chopping here, a sauce made there, something marinating while I’m answering emails and pretending not to snack.Now, I treat weeknight dinners like a magic trick. The One walks in, the house smells like I’ve been cooking for hours, and all I...
3 days ago • 2 min read
Hi Reader, After Valentine’s Day, I crave the antidote to all that candlelit, two-fork intimacy: a noisy, elbows-on-the-table, gravy-splashing family meal. The kind where you can’t hear yourself over the chorus of “pass the potatoes,” and someone inevitably uses a dinner roll as a pointer during an argument about politics or football—or both.When I was growing up, those family-style feasts were the great equalizer. You could show up grumpy, triumphant, or in full teenage angst, but once the...
5 days ago • 2 min read
Hi Reader, When I was a kid, the days before Lent were treated like a culinary Olympics in our house. My mother would declare, “We’re cleaning out the freezer,” which translated to every cut of meat known to man sizzling, braising, or roasting at once. The kitchen looked like a Renaissance banquet—steam clouding the windows, the table groaning, me stationed nearby with a dinner roll in each hand like a linebacker ready to carb-load for Jesus.Even now—decades after Papa and Mama Leite went...
7 days ago • 2 min read
Hi Reader, The One likes to tell people that the first meal I ever cooked for him was “French-ish.” Which is a polite way of saying I served steak au poivre with enough cracked pepper to fumigate the apartment. The smoke alarm sang, the windows flew open, and we ate on the fire escape with our wine balanced on the railing. But here’s the secret: he still remembers that dinner twenty years later—not because it was flawless, but because it was ours.A romantic dinner for two isn’t about...
10 days ago • 2 min read
Hi Reader, Years ago, The One and I agreed to skip Valentine’s Day—no gifts, no dinner reservations, no grand gestures. Naturally, by 8 p.m., I had chocolate melting on the stove and he was pretending not to notice the champagne chilling in the fridge. Somewhere between the whisking and the teasing (“You said we weren’t doing this!”), the night turned into one of those quietly cinematic moments—two people leaning over the counter, sharing spoonfuls straight from the pan, laughing like we’d...
12 days ago • 2 min read
Oh, to be young, thin, and moderately attractive again... Hi Reader, Food has a way of saying things we’re not always brave enough to say out loud. Especially on Valentine’s Day. I know, I know. For some, this week is all hearts and flowers. For others, it’s just a Tuesday (or an excuse to buy half-price candy on February 15th). But whether you’re cooking for a partner, hosting a "Galentine’s" dinner for friends, or just treating yourself to a damn good steak because you deserve it, food is...
14 days ago • 3 min read
Hi Reader, Years ago, I bought a pork butt the size of a toddler because it was on sale. What I didn’t realize is that pork butt isn’t just a cut of meat—it’s a commitment. A long-term relationship. That damn thing followed me through the week like a houseguest who wouldn’t take a hint. But oh, the glory when I finally got it right. A slow roast one night, tacos the next, and then, in a stroke of culinary genius (or desperation), pulled-pork fried rice. The One swore it was my finest...
17 days ago • 3 min read
Hi Reader, There are two kinds of people in this world: those who meal prep like it’s a spiritual practice and those who panic-eat hummus straight from the tub at 9 p.m. on a Tuesday. I regret to inform you I’ve been both. There was the year I decided I was “a meal prep person” and bought twelve matching glass containers for the express purpose of getting my life together, stacked them like a shrine, and announced to The One, “We’re going to live like adults.” Three days later, I was eating...
19 days ago • 3 min read
Hi Reader, January always feels longer than it has any right to be. It starts with fireworks and resolutions and ends with me clutching a mug of something hot, wondering why my socks are never fully dry. But here we are—almost through it—and that deserves a little celebration.In my family, the end of a hard month always called for something sweet. My Vovó would bake without announcement, like it was an instinctive act of optimism. No declarations, no “we survived” speeches—just a table dusted...
21 days ago • 3 min read
