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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
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Hi Reader, By mid-December, my social feeds are full of Portuguese people recreating their grandmother’s exact Christmas Eve menu from the Old Country—same codfish, same sweets, same everything, down to the brand of paper napkins. That… was definitely not my childhood. I grew up as first-and-a-half-generation Portuguese: my father right off the boat from São Miguel, my mother American, and me planted somewhere between the Azores and the mall. There wasn’t a laminated list of What We Eat on...
Hello Reader, Now that the Thanksgiving dust has settled, the leftovers are gone (read: eaten), and the Black Friday frenzy has faded, the real question we're facing is: What the heck do I give the people I love? We've all been there. We buy those butt-ugly, inappropriate, or downright offensive sweaters that get returned, gadgets that end up in a drawer or garage, or knick-knacks that somehow find their way to Goodwill in springtime. (I'm looking at you, my sixth cutting board in the shape...
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...