I started crowding my mom out of the kitchen at a young age. Peeling potatoes and rolling enchiladas quickly escalated into borrowing 3 cups of flour, from the neighbor, to bake a batch of cookies on a summer day, when mom was at work. Mom has her kitchen back, now that I have my own—and I don’t bake cookies, anymore, when there’s no flour in the cupboard! In this kitchen, you’ll find: always soft butter on the counter, my favorite weathered wooden spoon in the drawer, the smell of cinnamon sugar in the air, a never-ending supply of potatoes, and some sort of sauce bubbling away on the stove. My cooking style is down home—like mama’s—with an occasional bout of refinement—thanks, Ina. Oh, and if you haven’t noticed, I’m a gardener—so fresh picks from the garden always find their way onto my dinner table.
Sweets for my sweetie
