I am an Italian native living in Northern California. I write memoir and food stories, cook a lot and photograph the world around me.
Where do black-eyed peas go after being at the center of the New Year's table?
It happens every year. Summer is over and I am despondent...
September is Local Food Month, when we officially revel in the foods produced in our county and the people who grow and make them.
A light, crisp crust draped loosely over a deep layer of tender, juicy fruit: This, in a few words, is a cobbler.
I used to go egg hunting as a child. When visiting friends with chickens, I would go into the henhouse to look for an egg for myself.
March is a difficult month. No longer winter and not yet spring.