The recipes we actually cook.
In high school I worked in a string of fast food and fast casual restaurants, often on split shifts. A split shift leaves you with a few hours in the middle of the day, not enough time to go home, and not much money to spend. I spent most …
Five textures, four builds, and forty years of chasing a sandwich that mostly exists in memory.
What years of flipping, testing, and eating burgers taught me about the ratios and technique behind a great one.
I remember learning to make foil camp packets at a kids’ camp. The recipe was simple: a handful of cut-up veg, a potato cut into cubes, ¼ pound of beef, half a bouillon cube, and a pat of butter in a foil pouch (with some ground pepper). We …
My dad only knew how to cook a few dishes, but he was proud of each one. He loved making boxed mac and cheese. It was usually the blue generic box, and not brand-name KD (Kraft Dinner for anyone not from Canada).
I remember an old cast aluminum pot, handed down from my grandparents. It was pockmarked, with a patina of polymerized oils in the depressions. It once served as a pressure cooker that exploded in my grandmother’s kitchen, so it no longer …
I grew up in a small town of immigrants mostly from various parts of central, eastern, and northern Europe. Many of our neighbours were second- and third-generation Mennonites, with a few Dutch families sprinkled here and there. We were the …
As our small town evolved, more families moved in from all over the world.
