
Nothing quite compares to the stunning beauty of pomegranate seeds. It is no wonder that Persephone was tempted to eat those offered to her by Hades in the Greek mythological story. Sadly, just like in the story, pomegranate is only available during a short time of the year. Hrumph!
Continue reading Pomegranate Jelly

The best souvlaki I ever had was from a street vendor in my mom’s village in Greece. I lost track of how many I ate that summer, but I’m sure the guy was amused by this little American girl’s appetite. The meat was served right off a small wood-fired grill with a chunk of bread stuck on the end of the stick. I couldn’t get enough of it then, and I still can’t now.
Roasts are wonderful for a couple of important reasons: they tend to be cheaper cuts of meat, and they make a lot of food so I get to have leftovers and don’t have to cook every night.
Okay, you know I can HEAR you rolling your eyes. Yes, I bother to make my own nut butter for two very good reasons: 1) control of my ingredients, 2) I’m tired of fighting with jars of stiff peanut butter and having the jar win.
A few years ago I was doing some last minute birthday shopping for the Old Man at a local hardware supply store. Lo and behold, I stumbled across something I knew he would want (like, really want): a Kalamata olive tree.
I am home with a sick kid today. I want him nowhere near me because I hate getting sick (does anyone like it?). On the other hand, there’s that whole motherly love thing that drives me to want to take care of him. Is there any better cure-all than chicken soup? I think not.
I will never make it as a short order cook. I’m not the fastest person in the kitchen, and no where near the neatest (I can hear the Old Man agreeing with the last statement just a little too much). However, I have learned some tricks along the way to help streamline certain meals so that I can enjoy them the way I want, and I don’t have to get out of my pajamas to go to a restaurant, either.
Okay, I know he’s not a baby anymore, but my youngest is still THE baby. No matter what, all my boys will always be MY babies. I think most parents will understand.
I didn’t use to pay much attention to chrysanthemums in my earlier days. They just seemed so “common place” and were always the cheap plants at the nursery. But at some point I decided that my garden needed that quintessential splash of color in the fall, so I thought “what the heck”.
Sometimes in winter I’ll have the foolish notion that I miss summer. And why not? Days filled with eating warm, summer fruit right off the tree, swimming in the pool with the kids, harvesting fresh