On a sliver of a wall in my kitchen I have painted over the stark white with chalkboard paint. On that I have written the words “the work itself will teach you.” And it does. In that kitchen I have taught myself the basics of baking and am now venturing out into experimentation.

Anne -- I completely agree and hold onto that philosophy as well. When able I will go ahead and pick up a jar or two or a box or three of something I wouldn’t normally pick up. It’s like saving up for a rainy day. I found Reed’s article an entertaining piece.

The only thing I can hope for is that the average reader will read Reed’s column and see it for nothing more than what it is--a humorous fluff piece meant to capitalize on where the nation’s interest currently lies (the food industry, its evils, or the romantic tales of Julia Powell and Julia Child).

There was a challenge I caught on the web a few months ago that I think Reed’s little trial actually mirrored--don’t go near a market or grocery store for just one week and use the contents of your pantry. What her piece seemed to capture--at least more than trying to explain how one can dine on $50 a week did--is how much Americans collect and hoard for the sake of having (I also have a collection of books collecting dust after my first thought to read them occurred over three years ago). The better challenge is to use what you already own instead of going out to collect more in the hopes of having fodder for a future fluff piece. Accomplishing that would be well worth the extravagant dinner after “slumming” through my cupboards.

There are so many “not eating out” moments that I have been quite fortunate to have experienced with my now husband. But one in particular is one that I have tried to recreate twice now but it can never capture the same magic as the first moment. During our first year of dating I would sometimes go over to his apartment where we would cook something together. This one particular evening it was fish tacos and all I was required to do was to pick up the red cabbage. It was the first time sampling a fish taco and the first time I had ever consumed cabbage (knowingly anyway). It was delicious and so simple and one of my favorite memories. I still enjoy reliving it and I still enjoy nothing more than being in my kitchen with my husband cooking together.

Many thanks, Kim. :-)

My favorite cookbook this year has been “Rustic Fruit Desserts.” However, I was just recently gifted with “Baked,” Waters’ “The Art of Simple Food,” and “The Flavor Bible.” The last snuggled with me in bed a few nights before Christmas.

I have dough for brioche currently fermenting in my fridge. Tomorrow I proof and bake. I was banking on just making french toast with the loaf (as I did last time) but am now thinking this is the way to go. I love bread pudding!

Thanks to Charlie for forwarding me the link. I think I might have to make a little visit there today!!!!

This post and that photo is making me crave that gazpacho. And, doll, I know exactly what you mean about the joys of cooking for others. For two of my birthdays I threw dinner parties in my parent’s backyard. Decorated tables. Candles. Tiki torches. And everything from black olive tapenade to a chicken-walnut-strawberry salad. Dessert, unlike now, was something my mother always took care of. I wanted to do it again this year and I feel like I still should ... Regardless, dessert will be made for all friends on my birthday.

And, doll, that lovely party you threw was a great reminder (as if we needed one) of how fabulous you are and why you must always be celebrated!

I haven’t made fresh pasta in quite some time but I always found it enjoyable. And, if memory serves, I used two cups of flour to three eggs and then added at least a tablespoon of olive oil. I always mixed it using the mound and crack “method.”

Since I didn’t have a machine or any other special gadgets I only bothered with making ravioli. I stuffed with everything from asparagus to butternut squash. And then just usually topped with a simple sauce (brown butter and sage).

I cannot believe I haven’t done this in a while.

This sounds absolutely fabulous. So long as you hire me as your pastry chef. :-D

My problem is remembering to take my time eating even when I have the time to sit down and enjoy each mouthful. It seems like my mind and body is so used to eating in a rush (dinner at my desk between phone calls, a slice of pizza for lunch while running from the bakery to the gym, or a cup of coffee and a muffin between meetings). I always have to be mindful when I sit down with something in front of me. And remind myself to breathe and to take it slow. It takes a lot of effort.

I also find when I don’t have time to make myself a healthy lunch or dinner for work (I have breakfast at home) I tend to put together the simplest things that take no prep time whatsoever. Pasta with some sun-dried tomatoes. Tuna spread on some black olive bread. Almond butter and jelly on whole wheat. Meanwhile, the swiss chard, the onions, and asparagus go bad waiting for me to carve the time into my day to make something a little more inventive and a little healthier (than just tons of carbs).

This is a great post. And a great reminder for me to take just a few extra moments tomorrow morning to make myself something that doesn’t involve pasta or almond butter. Thanks!

Back to the Farmer’s Market this weekend to pick up some strawberries that will most likely find their way into this recipe.

A fantastic story and reminder of how we can all nurture each other in a number of ways. Keep feeding the dreamers!

Everytime I read one of these I am inspired to take the same challenge. I think I might next time I go food shopping. I’ll be sure to let you know how that turns out.

Hank, Diane, and DawnHeather -- thanks for the feedback and the comments. I love how something as simple as just recalling a food memory can provide as much comfort as the food you are producing does.

Thanks for the great comments!!!

corn pow -- It definitely doesn’t have an overwhelming honey taste; more of a simple syrup infused with the taste of honey with the consistency of a glaze. I left mine on the counter and kept taking spoonfuls until whatever had me congested went away. My mom used to keep hers in the pantry; leaving mine on the counter was a helpful reminder to take one spoonful in the morning and again in the evening.

Can you share the rest of the recipe? ;-)

Maybe it is because I haven’t had a taco in a really long time or maybe because I am craving tomatoes or maybe it was seeing the words poblano chiles and lemon-infused olive oil in the same breath that is making me lose mine.

Thank you! That really means a lot to me. I love to do it and love that I can marry both of my passions (baking and writing).