|
Hi Reader, Come on, 'fess up. You think that stuffing is the star of Thanksgiving dinner. I know I certainly do. Sure, turkey is great. Smothered in gravy, it's even better. But it's the carb-loading of stuffing that makes me oh so happy on Turkey Day. I love it so much that in my cookbook, The New Portuguese Table, I offer up two stuffings for Thanksgiving. You'll find both at the bottom of this newsletter. Also, some of you were asking more about turkey stock. Here's a video I made a few years ago. I didn't have a recipe. I bought some turkey necks and chicken gizzards and tossed in stuff from the fridge and pantry. A great stock is really that easy. My Best Thanksgiving
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
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.
Vinegar Chicken Thighs with Agrodolce Sauce ReaderHello Reader, I rarely break pattern and send a single-recipe email. But I've been sitting on something. In 2009, Lucinda Scala Quinn published Mad Hungry: Feeding Men and Boys, and one of her recipes — vinegar-glossed chicken — moved into heavy rotation in our kitchen. I made it her way for years. Faithfully. Loyally. Like a Golden Retriever. And the recipe sat on the site for 17 years Then I got the inch to tinker. So I did. I switched from...
Hi Reader, I’ve always loved how sandwiches lower everyone’s expectations in the best possible way.Nobody arrives demanding ceremony. Nobody asks whether you spent all day cooking or if the tomatoes were locally massaged by monks under a full moon. You hand someone a really good sandwich on a summer evening and suddenly people are barefoot, leaning against the deck railing, stealing fries and bites off each other’s plates like raccoons with excellent manners.And perhaps that’s why I make them...
Hi Reader, Every summer, my refrigerator develops a split personality. The front shelves look perfectly respectable. There's fruit, yogurt, maybe a head of lettuce I swear I'm going to use. But hidden behind all that? A small arsenal of sauces. Jars of pesto. Containers of chimichurri. A rogue mayonnaise that's been given a suspicious amount of smoked paprika. Something red, spicy, and vaguely threatening. Usually at least one mystery sauce that seemed like a brilliant idea three days ago and...