I ate a brownie the other day, and I didn’t like it.
This is not a usual occurrence in my world. I was born with my family’s propensity for chocoholism, and I never turn down the opportunity to inhale it. But this was a luncheon brownie, at a catered workplace barbecue, wrapped in plastic and glistening with chocolate(or is it?)-y icing and, well, chemicals.
I don’t eat a lot of processed stuff — especially baked goods — so I think I’m attuned to the artificial when it appears. Ick. That’s a key reason that chocolate syrup in the brown, nostalgic bottle doesn’t permanently reside in my fridge, as it does in many others’. I like chocolate syrup, and everything it is used to create, but I can’t get over the fact that it’s really just gloppy corn syrup with some chocolate flavoring. Double ick. Continue reading →
Chocoholism runs in my family. My grandmother always had something chocolate in the house — usually a pie, but often cake, ice cream, candy. It’s kind of shocking that no one was obese. And I still crave chocolate above all things — it soothes my soul.
After making custard for the rhubarb crumble, I had so, so many egg whites left over. I’m not a big egg fan in general, so an egg white omelet doesn’t appeal to me. Let’s be real — the yolks are the main reason I can even eat that. So, since I can’t bear to throw food away, it was time to be creative. What to do, what to do? Continue reading →
Yep, you read that correctly. I said, Pistachio. Nutella.
Or, actually, “Crema Pistacci.”
Isn’t that fun to say? Especially in an exaggerated Italian accent, over and over, to myself … I digress.
When I went to NYC in March, I stopped by Eataly, the Italian fine foods mega-market across from Madison Square Park. If you haven’t been, it’s a must.
I first visited last fall, and was captivated by — among other things — rows and rows of exotic kinds of Nutella, in every shape, size and flavor imaginable. But back then I was too overwhelmed to purchase anything. This time I just had to.