As I've said before, I'm definitely NOT a chef, and I seriously doubt if you could call me a cook. I'm a recreational foodmaker, who just fixed a pretty scrumptious pot of chili and wants to share.
"Do you have a cane?" Brenda-the-PT asked, and I nodded, "Good. Bring it next time. I want you to graduate from your walker to a cane." Heady stuff. Me, not lugging around walkers and wheelchairs? Wow. "No long walks on [...]
If you added up all my blogposts since 2003, you’d have something like 7,200 separate articles. Only about 650 are actually searchable on morganica.com right now. Tried to import the rest, but so far can’t figure out a way to [...]
Fruitsicles--fresh fruit puree popsicles in push-up tube bags-were a delicious accident on my road to sorbet...and a great way to use summer fruit. They're also relatively good for you; you get the vitamin C, fiber, and all the calcium, iron, [...]
"No, no!" he corrected, "We are not chocolatiers. We are chocolate MAKERS. We MAKE the chocolate here." Ahhh. Apparently there's a big difference: Chocolatiers make stuff out of someone else's chocolate, like Hershey's or Varlhona or Guittard or Ghiradelli. A [...]
Bread--leavened or unleavened--is a staple food in nearly every part of the world. So why is Portland so daggone bad at it? WARNING: Small, grumble-filled rant ahead Market of Choice, a local foodlover's emporium, launched just down the street last [...]
My friend Carol will tell you I am NOT a cook, and she's right. Cooks invent new ways to turn daily caloric input into stuff I can only dream about (unless Carol invites me over for dinner, because Carol is [...]
Babica Hen Cafe Location: Dundee, OR Price to brunch two: $35 or thereabouts There's Breakfast. And then, apparently, there's Not Breakfast. At least that's what it said on the menu at Babica Hen, where Mom and I stopped [...]
If I had to pick a last meal, it’d probably be a sandwich of fresh, crusty (REAL) sourdough bread, spread with home-made mayonnaise and topped with thin slices of really good ham, Wensleydale cheese and heirloom tomato…with an ice-cold glass [...]
The waiter calls me “darling,” with a dreamy smile on his face. He’s about 19, with the beginnings of a goatee, an honest-to-god twinkle in his eyes, and the thickest black horn-rimmed glasses I’ve seen outside a movie screen. Huarache sandals, [...]
