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.
How to Pull Off an Epic Thanksgiving Without Losing Your $h!t!
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Hello there Reader, Thanksgiving doesn't have to leave you cursing like a sailor. (Although, if you ever heard Mama Leite muttering in Portuguese while wrestling a 22-pound turkey into submission, you might think otherwise.) As someone who's hosted more holiday dinners than my youthful countenance would suggest―some of which ended with me hiding in the basement, clutching a bottle of wine, and questioning my life choices―I've learned a thing or two about keeping my sanity intact. The One will back me up on this, especially after That One Year We Shall Never Speak Of Again when I nearly burned down the house. But I digress. What I've learned is mastering Thanksgiving is all about strategy. And, unlike how I usually cook―which The One likens to a tornado in an apron―this requires that dreaded word: planning. Allow me to share with you my hard-won five-day plan that'll keep you from ending up in the fetal position behind the washing machine. (Not that I know anything about that.) My Free Foolproof Five-Day Countdown
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Leite's Culinaria
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.
Hi Reader, In our home, frying is less about food and more about ceremony. It starts with the sizzle—that anticipatory crackle that makes everyone within sniffing distance wander into the kitchen “just to check.” The One pretends he’s concerned about the mess, but the moment that first golden something hits the paper towel, he’s hovering with a fork like a hawk in bifocals.Growing up, fried food was both my grandmothers' love language. Vovo Leite could turn a humble piece of food into a...
Hi Reader, Every winter, I find myself measuring the season not by the temperature but by the smell of what’s baking. When I catch that first whiff of butter caramelizing at the oven’s edge or cinnamon coaxng me from my desk, I know I’ve found my purpose for the day. The One calls it “productive procrastination,” but I call it therapy... with snacks.There’s something almost holy about standing in a warm kitchen while the world outside skulks around in 50 shades of gray and sadness. Mixing,...
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...