tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68626830520855844442012-02-13T01:14:43.967-06:00A Sprinkling of Humor, a Dash to the Store, and a Bunch of Words on PaperLee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.comBlogger881100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-8491904280988034882012-02-12T13:33:00.000-06:002012-02-12T13:33:37.785-06:00

My husband and I are bridge players. In that serious, competitive, obsessive way. The kind of people who go on vacation to a tournament and play the game for 6-7 days in a row. I know, it sounds crazy; but there’s a whole subculture of people who do this for entertainment. Bridge and golf have a lot in common, in the sense that couples who play either game together walk a fine line in order to

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47469842807233160722012-02-02T08:00:00.000-06:002012-02-02T08:00:13.379-06:00

It’s 76 degrees outside. OMG. What a day, and on February 1. Guess that means it’s time to take down the Christmas decorations. At this time of year, my husband always reminds me of when we first started dating. I was living in a studio in Manhattan, a perfectly adorable space with a tiny separate kitchen and a brick wall (you have to live in NYC for a time before you understand the

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-20816826774784691452012-01-16T08:00:00.000-06:002012-01-17T11:45:32.272-06:00

[The Kitchen Goddess must have been all worn out from writing at the time of the original posting, in which she forgot to include the potatoes in the directions. It’s now corrected. Sorry about that!  –LSH] I’ve spent the last four days on a “writing retreat” with my best friend, Joy, from high school. We lost touch for many years after graduation – we both left Texas, but she went west and

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-8627323958151224402012-01-03T16:39:00.002-06:002012-01-03T16:54:15.919-06:00

My son and daughter-in-law are having a baby. And when I say “having,” I mean as I write this post. So naturally, I have to find something to do while I wait nervously, and this post is it. My husband, Grumpy, has already called twice from the golf course (remember, we’re in Texas, which is a great place to be in January), and he’s only on the 11th hole. Hardly anything would convince me

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-43260863468687197082011-12-25T15:13:00.000-06:002011-12-25T15:13:10.360-06:00

I haven’t had time for much – you know, the gift thinking, the gift shopping, the gift wrapping, and in the case of this year, the carrying of the gifts from Texas to NJ where we await the birth of ... a baby Hilton. But I did make THREE batches of roll-out cookies – for my children, my mother-in-law, and the two physical therapy clinics that I figure are the reason I was able to make them in

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-53228184770317522402011-12-09T08:00:00.000-06:002011-12-09T08:00:04.043-06:00

To cook or not to cook? When it comes to breakfast, that’s the big question. Especially when we have guests, I’m always torn between the desire for sleep (“Breakfast here is DIY – we have yogurt, eggs, cereal, fruit,...”) and the image I have in my head of everyone gathering around the kitchen island while I whip up some eggy concoction or pull yummy biscuits or coffee cake out of the oven.

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-57059168165879915032011-11-21T08:00:00.000-06:002011-11-21T16:08:45.743-06:00

The road back from a shoulder injury is long and torturous – mostly torture at the hands of a physical therapist. But in spite of the suffering, PT Bob (my man in NJ) was really a marvel at getting me to the point where my surgeon would release me to fly back to Texas. And now I’m in Austin with the equally capable PT Megan, who while assuring me that I’m making great progress, tells me the

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-67195215165284782042011-09-15T22:03:00.001-05:002011-09-15T22:03:47.568-05:00

But I had a little trouble with my shoulder not long ago. And while it looks like I’m holding that knife at the ready, the only thing I’m really ready to do is sit down. It’s my right shoulder, too, and it turns out that I am more right-handed than I ever could have guessed. I won’t even tell you how long it has taken me to put this posting together. So you’ll hear from me again, just not as

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-54189150319854243192011-08-26T05:00:00.000-05:002011-08-26T05:00:04.357-05:00

One of the phenomena that I have observed as my children got older was the way I lose track – other than through the weather – of the seasons and the attendant holidays. Columbus Day, Veterans Day, Presidents’ Day, Spring Break, Fall Break ... they come and go with hardly a nod. Absent the monthly notices from school, or the thematic artwork for my refrigerator, or even the need to find child

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-52256934892145299612011-08-18T06:30:00.000-05:002011-08-18T06:30:00.694-05:00

Yesterday was my mother-in-law’s 100th birthday. At a two-day celebration last weekend, she allowed as how she thought she was finally ready to offer advice if anyone wanted some. Sure, when she was born, there were no televisions or cell phones or computers. There also were no radio broadcasts (1920), no Band-Aids (1920) or hair dryers (1920), no automobiles with combustion engines (1920),

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-58866345143090858822011-08-15T07:00:00.000-05:002011-08-15T07:00:03.556-05:00

[Kitchen Goddess note: Poetry has all the antioxidants your soul could need. If you really hate all things poetic, you can skip right to the great rice recipe at the end of this post. There’s just a taste of poetry here, but who knows, you may be inspired to try more.] Writers toss and turn and groan and grind and pace the floor and periodically feel like sticking needles in their eyes just

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-51219441230851923162011-08-09T07:00:00.001-05:002011-08-09T07:00:16.561-05:00

I’m always amazed at the results of a pot luck supper. No one is coordinating the menu, no one insisting that all the dishes be low cal or have lemon in them or come from Pakistani cuisine – and yet, somehow we avoid the scenario with four kinds of starch or three fruit salads and no protein, or maybe all white foods. The one that most boggles me is my book group. Every month, anywhere from

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-20082054091656479942011-07-31T07:00:00.006-05:002011-07-31T07:00:10.726-05:00

As far as I can remember, I had only one friend who was actually born and raised in Summit, the small New Jersey town where my husband and I raised our children. Like many New Jersey towns, the population is relatively fluid, with families moving in and out according to the whims of corporate America or the ups and downs of Wall Street. But it turns out that, in spite of the shape-shifting

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2Jersey City, NJ, USA40.7281575 -74.077641740.6800255 -74.1566057 40.776289500000004 -73.9986777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-16551125214540866092011-07-23T07:00:00.001-05:002011-07-23T17:43:58.269-05:00

Chance or fate? I’ve long believed in karma of various sorts. Shopping karma (finding that just-so item in a tiny, hidden corner of Manhattan) and parking karma (snagging the spot right in front of the restaurant) come to mind most readily. But I’m starting to consider the concept of cooking karma. Can that be what you call it when you come across a recipe that sounds interesting and it turns

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-8633199763458020592011-07-12T05:20:00.001-05:002011-07-12T05:20:02.155-05:00

Not long ago, I received a notice from HP – the people who made my laptop. What they called a Routine Customer Advisory. I’m never really sure if these things come to me because something in my computer is about to blow up or has already blown up or arrived blown up but I haven’t come across the particular circumstances that would ignite the fire. So I read the notice. It had something to do

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47531495929088094672011-07-05T06:59:00.000-05:002011-07-05T06:59:10.573-05:00

Independence Day always comes as something of a shock to my system. It’s not really the Fourth of July, is it? How can it be that half the summer is already over? Of course, it’s not really half over – it just feels that way. And here in the New York area, the warm weather has the tall buildings emptying out like someone pulled a plug. People are out after work, eating at sidewalk cafes, sitting

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-80274691975740827152011-06-28T22:39:00.002-05:002011-06-28T22:45:51.118-05:00

What do you serve a group of really special guests for lunch? The four women who came to my house today have been nothing less than extraordinary influences on my writing life. Or maybe I should just say on my life, period. For almost a decade, we met weekly to talk about writing, to read what we’d written over the previous week, but also commenting, interpreting, suggesting, and praising each

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-42595056903527551852011-06-18T23:42:00.000-05:002011-06-18T23:42:48.660-05:00

I’m back! And just in time for Father's Day. So in honor of my own dear Dad, I’ve come with a recipe for the best barbecue sauce ever. This is what a loyal daughter does: she declares her father’s barbecue sauce recipe the best ever. Even if he’s no longer around to bask in the glory. But with my own personal bias disclosed, I will still promise that this sauce is pretty damn great. By most

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-9844307438936889192011-05-09T00:05:00.000-05:002011-05-09T00:05:54.622-05:00

I hope all you moms had a great day...

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-35072837353755121982011-04-28T04:12:00.001-05:002011-04-28T04:14:09.898-05:00

I’m always amazed at how it often takes a tourist to get a native to see the sights of his or her own city/state/country. I lived in Manhattan for 10 years and NJ for another 30 before I went to the top of the Empire State Building. The impetus? My 11-year-old nephew arrived from Houston for a visit. Similarly, I never visited the celebrated Jockey Hollow area outside Morristown, NJ, where

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-76538532422204692002011-04-23T21:48:00.000-05:002011-04-23T21:48:09.101-05:00

Last week’s New York Times Magazine contained a piece by Mark Bittman with three yummy-sounding recipes for leg of lamb. As I read them, I thought, I should try one of these. And then I remembered why I probably won’t: I have my own concoction that lifts lamb to a height I should probably call Amazing Taste. So flavorful that my friend Ellen – who says she doesn’t really like lamb – will dig

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-36300461536368335632011-04-22T01:33:00.000-05:002011-04-22T01:33:23.839-05:00

As you can see, I've been very busy...

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-1185534127012463262011-04-05T03:00:00.000-05:002011-04-05T03:00:03.923-05:00

One of the great things about Austin is the variety of slightly bizarre and clearly funky happenings that seem to occur on a daily basis. Last weekend, I put on my bravest face and joined the crowd at The 3rd (Usually) Annual Austin Regional Grilled Cheese Invitational. I kid you not. The day featured rock music directed by a DJ, lots of beer, a Queen (seen in the photo above) and King, and

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-35265593029043586082011-03-17T00:38:00.000-05:002011-03-17T00:38:47.523-05:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-79183690862177507852011-03-15T18:00:00.000-05:002011-03-15T18:00:38.214-05:00

Today is my younger son’s birthday – 28 years old. A victory of sorts, as his philosophy of life could at times have been described as “Fire, Aim, Ready.” This is the son who went out for a pass and crashed into a tree. The one who lost so many winter jackets – I think four was his record for one season – that it often seemed he was running his own charity coat drive. And the one who could get a

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-10255409340808899422011-03-09T23:51:00.000-06:002011-03-09T23:51:11.227-06:00

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” A Google search reveals that saying to be attributed to Benjamin Franklin, Rita Mae Brown, Albert Einstein, handbooks for Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous, and an old Chinese proverb. I don’t care who said it – it’s obviously true. And it doesn’t apply just to humans. We have a crazy cardinal at our house. He

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-25708153300051708622011-02-27T13:19:00.000-06:002011-02-27T13:19:45.961-06:00

It's my own version of the red carpet treatment...

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-11195371860383996672011-02-26T01:36:00.000-06:002011-02-26T01:36:36.195-06:00

Tournament bridge has been a passion of mine for a very long time – in college, I was one of those people in the dorm who would ambush anyone walking down the hall to be a fourth in some marathon game. But to everything there is a purpose, and a decade later, tournament bridge introduced me to my husband. (Not many people get their marriage announced in The New York Times’ bridge column!) We put

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-61112684737819784512011-02-22T18:22:00.000-06:002011-02-22T18:22:20.091-06:00

A little something for my friends in the frozen North...

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-33957586120084535752011-02-20T00:53:00.001-06:002011-02-20T01:10:10.544-06:00

I’m surrounded by beeps. My computer beeps at me for the usual variety of reasons – hello or goodbye, mail arriving, browser stops working, a program won’t load – that’s not news to anyone. But our house is only two years old, so most of the appliances operate with some sort of system that I’m sure the manufacturers believe is helpful. Some days, however, I go almost crazy trying to figure out

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-80096408783947608652011-02-12T00:11:00.001-06:002011-02-13T10:01:26.856-06:00

I don’t always read the book. This time I didn’t even buy it. My book group picked The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, a 425-page tome that by many accounts is an enlightening philosophical treatise on Tibetan Buddhism. I looked it up on amazon.com, and after reading the five pages that were available with the “Look Inside!” feature, I felt as if I’d been transported back to the 1960s. I know

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-71144648668955855542011-01-29T01:43:00.003-06:002011-01-29T01:56:44.323-06:00

I got this picture from my friend Leslie in Massachusetts yesterday. It's a color photo, but the snow has transformed the world there into a vision in black and white. I suspect it’s a lot like the way my old home in New Jersey looks about now, and for reasons I will explain, it reminds me of soup. For at least the last 15 years of our life in New Jersey, we taunted winter with a soup party in

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-58201830846987758192011-01-20T03:19:00.000-06:002011-01-20T03:19:44.454-06:00

I never took chemistry – in high school or college. I thought it would be too hard, so I took physics instead. Which just goes to show how ridiculous are the thoughts that wander around in a teenager’s head. So I’ve always wondered if I’d have done well in chemistry. My friends who took it tell me that, as a math major, I would probably have really enjoyed it. And I’m starting to think

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-87463183611338066072011-01-11T16:32:00.000-06:002011-01-11T16:32:29.164-06:00

 As of this day, I’ve been a mother for exactly 30 years. Three decades of alternately worrying, cheering, prodding, encouraging, admonishing, and marveling. Caring more than I would have thought was possible. The pregnancy was something of a lark, without the morning sickness or other complications I’d heard about. I knew life would change, but without a clear understanding of how. Twenty-two

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-27883093977102069952011-01-02T01:46:00.000-06:002011-01-02T01:46:57.310-06:00

I can’t resist the desire to have a posting for 1/1/11, so this won’t be long. But I do have a nice breakfast recipe for you, so stick with me. (Ok, I know, I’ve now missed it. But here I am, so I'll finish the thought.) I also noticed today that for this year only, we’ll actually have three occurrences of those fun dates that have only one digit in them – there’s also 1/11/11, and the most fun

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-2368541524588438132010-12-28T01:37:00.000-06:002010-12-28T01:37:41.636-06:00

When we made our reservations for Christmas in New Jersey, we told ourselves, “It hardly ever snows before January.” At least, that was what I said. My husband was less sanguine. But our recently married son is working crazy hours as a first year law firm associate, and our med school student had time off and was looking forward to seeing his NJ friends. So up we came. And then the Blizzard of

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-62478475376956311742010-12-07T15:26:00.001-06:002010-12-10T13:54:03.597-06:00

The first holiday party was Sunday, and already I’m exhausted. It was our neighborhood party, and in addition to being on the Social Committee (but of course), I volunteered to make my roll-out cookies. And as long as I was making one batch, it seemed like no big deal to make two and send one to two kids who are sons of families in my church and are stationed in Afghanistan. As usual, no good

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-20495110861480609732010-11-19T00:50:00.000-06:002010-11-19T00:50:39.421-06:00

I’ve long had a love-hate relationship with fall. It’s the end of warm weather for a good six months; the leaves, while briefly beautiful, are a lot of work to clean up; and my garden looks a lot like Medusa on a bad hair day. But it’s not just the leaves that turn red and orange these days. So many gorgeous foods are at their peaks in these months that I wander the farmers’ markets and the

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47851826483653025162010-11-06T01:08:00.001-05:002010-11-06T01:09:56.398-05:00

Some two or three years ago, I read for the first time about preserved lemons. I thought they sounded way cool as a condiment – they come out of Moroccan cuisine, and while I have no idea what that means, they apparently are best made from Meyer lemons, which I greatly love. Here’s the story: you take 8-10 lemons, slit the sides, jam them together in a large jar with enough salt to choke a

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47377497528426249262010-10-29T01:50:00.001-05:002010-10-29T10:24:33.842-05:00

I lost my cellphone a few months ago. There’s hardly anything more disruptive to your life, but once it’s gone, there’s not much you can do about it but start reconstructing your contacts from scratch. I decided to make the best of the loss, and upgrade to one of those phones that actually has a real keyboard on it, rather than the phone pad I’d been limping along with for so long. I’m sure it’s

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-64664978881200285432010-10-20T22:51:00.004-05:002010-10-26T00:23:23.198-05:00

I’m back! Back from the wedding abyss. Back from the beautiful fall colors in New Jersey. Back to the Austin days when you can leave all the windows open and luxuriate in the warm breezes of October. Frankly, I don’t know which place I’d rather spend these months in. Austin is a town of outdoor events. Start with South by Southwest (SXSW), the massive week-long music (and now film and

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-91349276124047577562010-09-24T00:29:00.000-05:002010-09-24T00:29:08.997-05:00

You may be wondering where I've been these past few weeks. There's a song by the group, Sugarland, with a line that goes, "Life is a runaway train you can't wait to jump on." That's pretty much how I feel about weddings, too, these days. My son is getting married in nine days, and as much as I love the planning and the list-making and the excitement -- and, of course, the soon-to-be

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-37812031092376918832010-08-25T00:10:00.000-05:002010-08-25T00:10:36.546-05:00

I didn’t grow up liking fresh tomatoes. In fact, for most of my life, I avoided tomatoes as tasteless and of a texture I didn’t like. And even when farmers’ markets began sprouting up all over New Jersey, I took a pass on tomatoes. Then on the trip south to deliver our first born to college, we left a few days early to check out the mountains of the Carolinas, where my husband envisioned

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-11977504797693834282010-08-18T16:03:00.000-05:002010-08-18T16:03:45.687-05:00

Not everyone gets good in-laws. And very few get really great in-laws. I am one of the lucky few. Adding to that good fortune, yesterday, my mother-in-law celebrated her 99th birthday. It’s amazing what can happen in 99 years. In addition to outliving fellow 1911 babies Ginger Rogers, Ronald Reagan, and Mahalia Jackson, Gladys has watched a sea change in our daily lives. Just to give you an

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-23069710732006387872010-08-04T17:23:00.000-05:002010-08-04T17:23:39.738-05:00

On an airplane a couple of days ago, I was reading the latest issue of Writers’ Digest, in which the editors took on a theme of “Top Ten” and pretty much wore it out. But you know how something like that will get inside your brain, so before I knew it, I had pulled out my notebook and begun writing down a few of my own Top Tens, mostly to do with cooking. I’m going to try not to wear it out here,

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-46476264730765306442010-07-24T15:14:00.000-05:002010-07-24T15:14:24.178-05:00

As of about three weeks ago, my husband and I have become part of the great North/South seasonal migration. After last summer’s 66+ days over 100º in Austin, we decided we’d been maybe a bit hasty in our flight from the frozen Northeast. At least for the summer months, we figured we’d hide out in New Jersey, where we remembered temperatures mostly in the 70s and 80s, with the occasional night

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-75201255344813558512010-07-12T15:51:00.000-05:002010-07-12T15:51:55.804-05:00

I really didn’t want to go grocery shopping yesterday, and we’d eaten the only frozen pizza we had a few nights ago; so once again, I was in a dinner quandary. The night before, I’d used up the zucchini and yellow squash and mushrooms in a throw-it-all-in pasta dish, and I shy away from the same sort of thing two nights in a row; so pasta was out. I had a package of chicken tamales in the freezer

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-68459683882093952752010-06-26T22:30:00.000-05:002010-06-26T22:30:13.525-05:00

The thermometer here in Austin has been in the 90s almost every day for the longest, and all I could think of was... gelatin salad. I’ve been a molded salad snob for years, disdaining the green wobbly squares with floating bits of  pineapple and celery that would invariably appear on the menu at my mother-in-law’s house. She’s a wonderful woman and way too fond of Jello salad. But in the midst

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-2066264117986922512010-06-18T13:25:00.003-05:002010-06-18T13:29:45.688-05:00

I spent four days last week at the beach, writing with another woman who is both a lifelong friend and a writer. We drove to the Texas coast, to a tiny fishing village named Port Aransas. Basking in relative obscurity, Port A lolls at the far north end of Mustang Island – a home to as many deep-sea sport fishing boats as crusty shrimpers. A place so laid back that dressing up mostly means a clean

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-91996751145788306552010-06-11T17:59:00.001-05:002011-07-05T08:10:38.596-05:00

I made a certifiable disaster for dinner a few nights ago – lovely artichokes that didn't get completely done, and some fish that stuck to the pan and tasted "bland" (my husband's word). To his credit, he was very cautious with this criticism, not wanting to have me stop cooking altogether; but in a preemptive strike, I had already said I didn’t think the fish was a success. Winging it is always

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-88152108827728188422010-06-02T00:41:00.000-05:002010-06-02T00:41:35.664-05:00

For my next life, I want to come back as Michael Ruhlman. Among his dozen published books, you will find collaborations with Eric Ripert (of Le Barnardin), Anthony Bourdain (“No Reservations” on the travel channel), and at least three books with Thomas Keller, the self-taught wunderkind of The French Laundry in Napa, and Per Se in NYC. It’s the sort of stuff I dream about. Cooking from

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-50352592307664721222010-05-28T00:56:00.001-05:002010-05-28T00:59:55.804-05:00

Okay – I confess. When I started this post, I was going to review my latest find, Thomas Keller’s ad hoc at home. And then,...I decided any review should really pit this book against its truest competitors, i.e., the cookbooks of other great chefs. And since I have quite a few of those, it became another of those what-the-heck moments, and what my husband always refers to as a random strike

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-25865993996915858262010-05-26T21:46:00.004-05:002010-05-26T22:38:33.152-05:00

I've just become aware that the pasta recipe in my last post had 4 CUPS of parmesan. ACK!!!! No, that was supposed to be 1/4 cup. This must be what comes from writing in the wee hours. So sorry – hope I haven't ruined anyone's dinner. For anyone just now reading that post, I've corrected the recipe. But here it is – again – with the appropriate quantity of Parmesan. Pasta with Asparagus and

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-63643680919699294262010-05-20T16:58:00.001-05:002010-05-26T21:47:35.371-05:00

It was a great birthday. I slept late, ate breakfast out on our screened porch, then had my coffee with the cat out in the kitchen garden. Some days, you just have to let yourself do nothing, and if your birthday isn’t one of those days, then you are missing something. One son sent me the cutest flower arrangement I think I’ve ever seen: a flower cupcake. It’s right here on my desk, where it

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-54139487515369288072010-05-15T19:24:00.001-05:002010-05-15T19:25:08.748-05:00

You know, I started off my last post talking about the binder of family recipes my Aunt Marcy gave me when I left home for a career in NYC. The whole idea was to link that thought to the recipe book I put together just recently for my daughter-in-law-to-be. But my mind’s ability to wander off into the woods, following any random trail, seems to apply even when I’m writing. I apparently am in

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-90378958724166396022010-05-09T22:59:00.004-05:002010-05-10T00:42:42.674-05:00

When I left home in Texas for a job and apartment in New York, my Aunt Marcy gave me a binder with a starter handful of family recipes in it. Mostly, they were her recipes with a couple from my grandmother, who only cooked things with lots of sugar in them. My mother’s recipes were largely absent, I suspect because I don’t remember ever actually seeing her use a recipe. She was an artist, and

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-81553125146873951132010-04-22T02:12:00.002-05:002010-04-22T02:15:02.514-05:00

What a glorious month! The wildflowers are exploding all over Texas; and in New Jersey, where we just spent a long weekend, the tulips and daffodils had poked their heads up along all the city sidewalks, and redbud trees blazed everywhere. And while I haven’t exactly been hibernating, our big screened porch has me yearning to invite friends for dinner. Which may be why I volunteered our house

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-88906136489015845662010-03-29T01:23:00.005-05:002010-03-30T00:13:04.345-05:00

I’m cleaning out my office, in hopes of finding all the information I need to get my taxes done. Fortunately, I have a helper. His name is Max. And while he’s fairly critical of the process, we must press onward. I hate missing a potential deduction, so I do what I can for that errant nickel or dime. On the other hand, it hasn’t been a fruitless activity. I unearthed a couple of bills I needed

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47603991323291337482010-03-18T03:02:00.005-05:002010-03-18T03:09:23.066-05:00

I’ve been flying solo this week. With my hubby off at a bridge tournament (yes, we are both bridge geeks, but he has real talent, whereas I’m more of a fan), I’ve been luxuriating in doing it my way for the entirety of almost every day. Mostly, it involves a lot of puttering. The kitchen island is nearly invisible, littered with magazines open to where I left off reading, and recipes I’ve torn

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-6186445411583804822010-03-14T00:33:00.003-06:002010-03-14T00:38:36.639-06:00

I know, it’s almost spring; but it’s still high season for citrus fruit, from the looks of things at my grocery store. Pink and white grapefruits, tangelos, clementines, navel and juice oranges, and a new favorite of mine, the Cara Cara navel oranges. Cara Caras are sweeter and less acidic than regular navel oranges, but the best thing about them is their color, which is a corally red. Not as

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-1625062479353260332010-03-03T02:31:00.002-06:002010-03-03T02:34:21.042-06:00

The first signal that our vacation (to the Baja Peninsula) last week wasn’t going as well as we’d hoped was when I realized on the way to the airport that I’d forgotten to pack my camera. I’d remembered to include the little gizmo that allows me to transfer files from the camera to my laptop, just not the camera itself. But I’m an optimist, and I figured I could get copies of our friends’ photos.

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-25298796794146198652010-02-20T03:42:00.003-06:002010-02-20T03:47:12.694-06:00

I was single and living in New York when I bought my first cookbook. Unlike Nora Ephron, I didn’t get mine from my mother. When I left home in Texas, the only things I could actually cook – i.e., using heat – were hard-boiled eggs and canned soup. Among cold dishes, I could also make tuna salad. I approached kitchen life with all the enthusiasm of a Christian in the Coliseum. But I was newly

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-72684649235620198492010-02-15T00:53:00.001-06:002010-02-15T00:54:23.584-06:00

Some years ago, my husband bolted into the kitchen with a furrowed brow of concern on his face. “Was today Valentine’s Day?” he asked, the constricted throat muscles rendering a hint of panic in his voice. “No,” I said. “That’s tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the 14th.” “But isn’t it always on a Sunday?” As the only woman in a house full of men, there was never anyone who’d give me an honest opinion on

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-60502874200617774532010-02-12T15:01:00.000-06:002010-02-12T15:01:29.868-06:00

Please excuse me, dear readers, for today’s truly random thoughts, having nothing to do with food or cooking, but my alternate passion, writing. The best day of the week for me is Thursday, when the New York Times publishes its Home and Style sections. Ok, I like Wednesday, too, when the Dining section appears; but for the best wordsmithing, you shouldn't miss Cintra Wilson. Her column, “

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-85056041506753289112010-02-09T23:58:00.001-06:002010-02-09T23:59:36.096-06:00

Thank goodness football season is over. I’m really not much of a fan. While it’s true that I grew up in Texas, where the sport has been elevated to a status only a few notches below Santa Claus or pimento cheese, I just never bought into it that heavily. So ever since my sons got old enough to enjoy watching with their dad, I’ve used the opportunity to catch up on my reading or maybe try out a

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-85158840888400608722010-01-28T08:00:00.006-06:002010-01-31T21:43:31.053-06:00

When I was in elementary school, every Wednesday was Mexican food day in the cafeteria, and my favorite approach to the food was to stir it all together into an unrecognizable mush. Sort of a precursor to what many now call “tamale pie.” So I guess I’ve always been fond of mixing a bunch of ingredients together. Then last Sunday night, we got together with friends to watch the football game. I

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-22309783580135827612010-01-24T21:49:00.006-06:002010-01-25T09:18:09.127-06:00

So, here we are almost a month into the new year, and I still am not used to writing 2010 on my checks. It’s been 200something for so long that my hand starts moving and I get two zeroes out before I can stop myself. So then I end up with checks that are dated 20blob10. Argggghhh. This would mean that one of my new year’s resolutions has become learning how to write the date. Pretty lame.Another

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-62476689615538884462010-01-13T18:33:00.005-06:002010-01-15T21:40:01.781-06:00

Over the holidays, I was at the grocery store so often I thought maybe I should just set up a cot in the produce aisle. So as we move into the cold, gray days of January – yes, even in Texas, we are having winter weather – I love the challenge of seeing how many days I can go without a run to the market. It’s a little like figuring out if you can make a Halloween costume out of what’s in your

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-91780174915069445552010-01-05T17:24:00.006-06:002010-01-05T17:45:11.747-06:00

I’m back! Please excuse the delay, but the holiday frenzy was particularly acute this year, what with various relatives and friends coming and going, and the attendant shopping, meal planning, and, of course, the cooking.It was our first year in the new house, so putting up Christmas decorations was a whole new experience. After 22 years in our New Jersey home, the ornaments all knew their places

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-42697595611578681352009-12-09T16:57:00.004-06:002009-12-09T17:08:54.552-06:00

One of the great pleasures of winter weather is comfort food. I’d almost lost track of that need – there being not much call for it in Austin – until last weekend, which my husband and I spent on Nantucket Island, off the coast of Massachusetts. The island hosts a celebration called Christmas Stroll, which I think is mostly a gimmick to lure north those of us who’ve sworn off snow and ice, but

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-12512025558148455372009-11-30T00:18:00.004-06:002009-11-30T01:32:39.725-06:00

Just a tiny, ahem, personal promotion: the December issue of Ladies' Home Journal carries a reprint of my essay on my obsession with sprinkles, which originally appeared in The New York Times in October 2008. (Note that the photo here is of the November 2009 LHJ -- I couldn't find one of the December cover, which features Nicole Kidman.) The LHJ piece is titled "Sugar on Top," but the NYT version

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-48335850610306462732009-11-26T11:39:00.010-06:002009-11-26T12:05:55.720-06:00

This year, my son and daughter-in-law -to-be are hosting their first Thanks-giving. Her family will be joining them, but we’ll be in Texas, so I’m not there to help, which pains me, as I count group cooking as one of the most fun activities. Desperate to contribute, I sent cookies.What cook doesn’t remember that maiden voyage? My first attempt was fraught with anxiety over the bird in particular,

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-41130637841953400172009-11-18T00:16:00.010-06:002009-11-19T00:07:06.210-06:00

My current favorite cranberry sauce recipe calls for two cups of pinot noir. You can get a buzz just from the fumes as it cooks.In addition, however, I almost always have to make that classic relish – from cranberries and oranges and sugar – regardless of what else is on the menu. When I was little, probably in elementary school, my Aunt Marcy – long known as the cook in the family – began a

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-17586236548549696652009-11-10T00:17:00.014-06:002009-11-10T00:55:06.750-06:00

A friend and I drove down to San Antonio this weekend, to the Culinary Institute’s Texas campus for a one-day seminar on baking desserts. I got less from it than I had hoped – after the fab two-day courses this summer in basics and hors d’oeuvres (see August 28 and September 3 postings), I had some idea that this one would transform the way I think about desserts.But no, the day was mildly

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-14616325107211091232009-10-31T02:36:00.011-05:002009-11-01T13:47:39.445-06:00

After Christmas, I believe Halloween must be my favorite holiday. Candles everywhere, the heady, fall smell of slowly charring pumpkin in the jack-o’-lantern, and the kids in their costumes – just thinking of it makes me want to bake cookies. I’m a huge fan of roll-out cookies, mostly because I enjoy decorating them, and the Halloween shapes are among the most fun. (You’ll notice here that I’ve

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-38696363736262848502009-10-20T00:17:00.006-05:002009-10-20T00:40:09.751-05:00

A fun and interesting article in The New York Times this week cast a spotlight on a website – which turns out to be a blog – called Cake Wrecks (cakewrecks.blogspot.com), by a woman named Jen Yates, with photos and stories of professional baking (mostly icing) efforts that went off the rails. If you’ve ever ordered a cake and had it come out not quite as you’d hoped, this site will definitely

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47610498048506725392009-10-11T18:29:00.006-05:002009-10-11T18:45:47.546-05:00

It’s been a week of mourning: Gourmet magazine is dead.I’ve spent these days browsing wistfully through my collection of issues, which goes back only as far as July of 1995, and I don’t have anywhere near a complete assemblage. But I started reading the magazine back in the early ‘70s – my single days – even before I could actually cook many of the recipes. For years, I bought it to fantasize

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-34247495543912543122009-09-30T02:16:00.003-05:002009-09-30T02:22:12.924-05:00

Summer collided with fall here in Austin yesterday afternoon, in the form of a downpour that has managed, in less than a day, to take the temperature down twenty degrees. Welcome to Texas. Even before it started, the sky was overcast and the air heavily humid, so it seemed like just the sort of day to go through my recipe files and winnow out the unworthy. I’ve been meaning to do it for at least

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-52157975342838168092009-09-23T17:35:00.005-05:002009-09-23T18:12:45.772-05:00

Today I spent the morning in my garden, which, as often happens toward the end of the summer, has taken on some rather unruly aspects. Sort of like my hair after a two-hour drive in a convertible. My Sun Gold tomato plants are still producing like rabbits, but the vines have moved well beyond the confines of either the tomato cages at the north end of the garden, or the trellis at the south end.

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-30396106597485690562009-09-13T18:38:00.007-05:002009-09-13T19:07:29.032-05:00

This week, I hosted my book group – an eclectic group of women ranging in age from late 20s to early 60s. Many of us know each other exclusively through these meetings, so the conversation tends to be well focused on the readings; and most either are now or have been professionals of some stripe, so opinions are strong and vocal. Needless to say, these are lively evenings.September’s selection

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-39160539076373437152009-09-03T18:04:00.011-05:002009-09-05T11:20:52.486-05:00

Here we are – my cousin Helen and I – with Chef. It’s hard to compress the learning that takes place at the CIA in a mere four days, but I’ve tried to focus on the most memorable. What follows then are five pearls of wisdom from my time at the CIA.1. Beware the toque. Everyone in the CIA kitchen wears one, ostensibly because it keeps the sweat of your brow from splashing down into the food. My

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-47334545857668800332009-08-28T12:02:00.006-05:002009-08-28T12:16:28.742-05:00

Have I mentioned that I signed up for four days at the CIA? Of course, it’s not really spy school, but that sounds so much more exotic than cooking school. On the other hand, I did feel a bit like a spy, uncovering at least a few of the secrets of the fraternal order of chefs. The CIA in question is the Culinary Institute of America. In anticipation of my move to Austin (I feel sure they were

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-19522763181795970682009-08-17T01:34:00.006-05:002009-08-17T01:47:24.540-05:00

I know, I know, my previous two postings have contained birthday greetings of a sort. And now here’s another. What can I say? Maybe I have a thing for people born in August. I promise to stop...after this one.Today is my mother-in-law Gladys’s birthday – 98 years young. And as I am now a mother-in-law-in-waiting (one of my sons is engaged), I’ve been thinking a lot about the lessons she has

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-73851888906776627522009-08-15T19:38:00.012-05:002009-08-15T23:37:48.666-05:00

I have learned today from The Wall Street Journal of all places that this date is Julia Child’s birthday, so I plan to raise a glass of champagne to her later on – not before lunch – and invite any others of you who are fans to join me.Having just arrived back in Austin from our whirlwind tour of the Northeast, I was sure we would be the last people on the planet to see Julie & Julia, which is

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-34307192718585213422009-08-06T16:57:00.013-05:002009-08-16T17:47:48.174-05:00

Today is my friend Gusty’s birthday, so I hope any of you who are interested in writing will check out her posting about Sno-cones and writing over at A Good Blog is Hard to Find. Or take a look at her own site: http://ascattergood.blogspot.com.One of the great pleasures of visiting Nantucket is my friend Laurie’s garden. And while the excess of cool, wet weather they’ve had in the Northeast

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-90563994076373719342009-07-31T21:49:00.015-05:002009-08-01T08:13:32.880-05:00

What a summer of extremes – cold and damp in the Northeast, hot and dry in Texas. In our years of living in New Jersey, we took very few extended vacations during the summer, as it’s normally a glorious time in the Garden State for gardening, golfing, and my favorite food-related activity: trips to the farmers’ market. But in Texas, you can just take so many days over 100º before even “cold and

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-41703139493598020932009-07-22T18:05:00.007-05:002009-07-22T19:23:34.900-05:00

There’s a reason I don’t deep fry, and it’s not the calories. Ok, more than one reason, and you can include the calories. The heat, the mess – before, during, and after – and then what to do with the leftover oil. I’m sure my San Antonio grandmother, Minnie Lee, would sit up in her grave and berate me at the thought of life without fried chicken or fried okra or fried catfish, or that hallmark of

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862683052085584444.post-5048373195577333452009-07-16T23:55:00.007-05:002009-07-17T17:35:45.442-05:00

Asparagus season is about over, so I’m trying to figure out how many times I can serve them to my husband in the span of a week, without generating a mutiny. Most of what I see in the grocery store are those microthin spears, and although I much prefer the heftier stalks, I’ll take whatever size shows up.My fondness for asparagus blossomed once I learned that you could scrape off the tough skin

Lee Stokes Hiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00102834312752234256noreply@blogger.com5