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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, Brunch season always sneaks up on me the way crocuses do—suddenly, brazenly, and a little smug. The One will suggest “something casual,” which is code for three platters, two carafes, and me dashing around muttering about forks. I used to think brunch required choreography: eggs timed to the minute, bacon crisp but not combative, fruit salad that looked like it had a stylist. Then I realized the real point of brunch is permission—to linger, to gossip, to pour orange juice into...
Hi Reader, There was a time when “date night” meant a white tablecloth, a waiter who said absolutely to everything, and me pretending not to notice The One calculating the tip on his phone. Lately, though, I’ve fallen in love with Date Night: Home Edition. Same drama, fewer receipts. I light a candle, put on something that isn’t elastic-waist (progress), and reach for the only piece of kitchen equipment that truly separates a restaurant from a residence: a heavy pan that holds heat like a...
Hi Reader, I used to think comfort food had to come from home—my home, specifically. A place that smelled like garlic and rendered fat, where the air shimmered with anticipation and maybe a little guilt. But lately, I’ve been letting my comfort get a passport stamp.It started one night when I was too tired to make anything “proper,” so I tossed together a bowl of miso noodles from a recipe I half-remembered. The result? Instant calm. The next week it was butter chicken, then shakshuka, then a...