Category: Uncategorized
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Sometimes I wonder… does anyone love butter as much as I do? Not just like it. Not just cook with it. But truly love it- the way you love something that has walked through life with you. flavoring, your memories one golden smear at a time. My love affair with Butter began when I was…
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I have a racoon at stays near by I feed him scraps I live far deep in the wilderness we have deer , coyotes, raccoons, possums.
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Last night, as I stood in my kitchen preparing Polute a la creme for the very first time , something magical happened somewhere between the soft sizzle of chicken browning in butter and the aroma of mushrooms rising with the steam , I felt the unmistakable presence of Julia child herself.It was as if her…
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Ingredients Instructions 1. Season the chicken pat the chicken dry and season generously with salt and pepper.Julia always said ” Dry your chicken or it won’t brown” 2 Brown the chicken in a heavy skillet , melt the butter with the olive oil add the chicken pieces and brown on all sides until golden. 3…
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A Julia child – inspired French dinner in my southern kitchen. Tonight, I’m stepping into my kitchen with a little more excitement – and a little more courage- than usual. I’m cooking Poulet a la creme for the very first time a rich, velvety French chicken dish that julia child herself adored. If your watching…
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A raw honest reflection on marriage ,arguments, growth,and choosing love after a difficult night.A reminder that relationships require attention, forgiveness, and appreciation. The first night we ever slept apart Last night was the first night in fifteen years of marriage that my husband and I slept apart. Not in different houses -not even in different…
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For twenty-five years , I gave my self to nursing. I worked every holiday , every overtime shift ,every long night when my feet ached, and my heart felt heavier than the patient chart I carried. I poured myself into a profession that I cared for deeply- yet ,looking back ,I’m not always sure it…
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When I step into my kitchen,tie on my apron, and reach for a stick of butter, I always feel a little whisper of history behind me. A gentle nudge. A familiar voice saying ” you can do this don’t be affraid” That voice is always julia Growing up, I never knew that French cuisine wasn’t…
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Growing up in the 80s there was one thing that could pull me through the door faster than the school bus could pull away— julia child on TV. While other kids rushed home for cartoons , I rushed home for the woman who could glide around a kitchen in a 1940s dress,pearls gently swinging, and…
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Imagine strolling through a French Farmers Market at sunrise. The stalks glow with color -deep purple figs , sun- sweet peaches dripping with juice ,tomatoes so plump they look like they might burst , and baskets of herbs so fragrant they almost take your breath away. Thyme, Tarragon, Rosemary, Lavender you can smell them before…