|
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 40,000 food lovers and subscribe.
Hi Reader, I have a confession. Sometimes I snoop.Not through The One's phone. Not through the neighbors' windows. (Although if they're cooking something good, all bets are off.)I snoop through the traffic reports for Leite's Culinaria.And after all these years of writing, testing, photographing, and occasionally swearing at recipes, I still get a kick out of seeing which ones you visit most.Some make perfect sense. A slow-roasted pork butt with a crackling crust? Of course. Marcella Hazan's...
Hi Reader, Every November, I buy my first bag of fresh cranberries with the enthusiasm of a man who's just discovered a new food group.And every November, I pop one into my mouth.Why? Beats me. I know perfectly well what comes next. My face puckers, my eyes squint, and for a brief moment, I look like I've been handed very bad news.Raw cranberries are mean little things. Hard as marbles, tart as vinegar.But give them some sugar, a little orange zest, and the heat of an oven? Hallelujah....
Hi Reader, I'll admit something. I don't think I've ever eaten a taco sitting down.Oh, I've intended to. I've set the table, put out napkins, arranged bowls of salsa and lime wedges like I'm hosting a cooking show. But then I assemble that first taco, take a bite to make sure everything tastes right, and suddenly I'm standing over the kitchen counter, juice running down my wrist, wondering where half my dinner went.Sound familiar?There's something wonderfully uncivilized about taco night. You...