For as long as beans have been in my life, I’ve eaten bean salad. My mother made it with canned beans and bottled Italian dressing. Stoic’s mother made a big batch once when she and his father were leaving town on a trip, and Stoic ended up ice skating on bean salad after he dropped… Continue reading Best bean salad ever — sweet corn’s the secret
I don’t know why, but it started with purchased tzatziki (cucumber, yogurt and garlic), which is really good on a chicken or tuna sandwich. Then, of course, the poppy-seed dressing and now a tomato-basil vinaigrette that’s out of this world. We’ll forget about the mayonnaise with siracha, soy sauce and sesame oil added for garnishing… Continue reading Summer sauces; tomato-fresh basil-garlic vinaigrette
Looking at 1 cup of leftover rice, getting ready to nuke my lunch the other day, I realized — anew — that I can’t eat that much rice. Ever. It felt like a little death until someone in my online fitness support group suggested I say to myself, “The new JoAnn doesn’t eat that much… Continue reading Steak salad and more longhorns
We’re currently experiencing the nastiest weather of the summer. Think Amazonian rain forest-African jungle heat and humidity. I’ve said (so many times) before: I hate Southern summers, love the food. Today’s lunch was the last of our sweet corn, the first of our field peas, some of Stoic’s perfect tomatoes and a neighbor’s honey-sweet cantalope.… Continue reading Hot southern mess
Here’s the thing: A whole lot of stuff does not matter once you get past, say, the quarter-century mark. My husband, Stoic the Vast, thinks that applies to everything (that it doesn’t matter), but he’s wrong. Some things do matter, just not the way people behaved in your high school class 50 years ago. As… Continue reading Stoic the Vast and Dora the Explorer; Tomato-cornbread salad
I wonder if any other of my classmates has to buy a new fence charger before our 50th reunion in 2.5 weeks. When I went out to put on fly masks this morning, we had a free range quarterhorse, and it will not do if any of our three amigos range onto N. Meadow Rd.… Continue reading 2 pounds and 2 weeks ’til reunion!
Joan Didion has always been a bit diaphanous, a bit hide-and-seek for my tastes, probably never more so than in “Blue Nights” (Alfred A. Knopf, 2011), a gauzy remembrance of the 2005 death of her daughter, Quintana Roo. You have to Google Quintana Dunne Michael to find out how she died. Her grief-stricken mother offers… Continue reading Blue nights, golden days and a 21st-century three-bean salad