There are many things I prefer to forget about my college boyfriend, but one fond memory remains, which, perhaps not surprisingly has to do with food. Thanks to his kind, long-suffering mother — whose heart was Irish, while her kitchen was Italian to please her husband — I was introduced to a dish largely unheard of outside South Jersey and Philadelphia: Spaghetti with crabs.
Because of the horrific way they are raised commercially (which I won’t get into, but you can look it up), we have long been opposed to eating veal. Until we discovered that such a thing as humanely raised veal exists, thanks to Ted’s photography work for the specialty meat purveyor, D’Artagnan.
There’s something fine and wonderful about a chocolate cake. I much prefer the sturdy, yet tender, straightforwardly deep chocolate kind — the sort that begs for a glass of cold milk – to a cake with any more embellishment than a lick of frosting.
Come to think of it, that’s how I like my chocolate bars, too: dark and plain. Ted, on the other hand, goes for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Cadbury Dairy Milk Fruit & Nut bars. Food for thought, there …
“Let’s make pizza tonight!” always sounds like such a great idea. But it’s a project with several potential pitfalls. You stretch the dough to the thickness you want, and then get a giant hole. The crust burns but the cheese isn’t yet fully melted. Or my personal favorite: The assembled, uncooked pizza refuses to detach from the peel and slide onto the pizza stone, until you give it a good jerk and the whole thing ends up splayed against the back of the oven.