Thanksgiving has been stalking me like a shadow this year, peering out around the corner weeks ago, with its gluten-centric traditional dishes passed down on my family line;
Parts of my family like each other, and I *really* like parts of my family, but taken as a whole, my extended family should just not be in the same room.
My husband is the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. And nobody but NOBODY tries as hard as he does to get things right. But damn it all if he isn't one of the most insecure cooks on the planet. In the kitchen, it's as if he's been stripped of all his powers, and is feeling... Continue Reading →