
Okay, okay, alright already, I'll do it.
The Kitchn has been tweeting as a group here, at thekitchn, but I've finally decided to bust out and tweet on my own. You can find me here, at sarakategr.

Okay, okay, alright already, I'll do it.
The Kitchn has been tweeting as a group here, at thekitchn, but I've finally decided to bust out and tweet on my own. You can find me here, at sarakategr.

Two weeks ago, we were in Italy for our summer holiday and, as you know, I spent the first week wondering the streets of Florence, just following my nose. On the last day I picked up a very generous kilo of fresh ripe apricots from a little farm stall on the Piazza Santo Spirito. Ursula and I ate quite a bunch of them as we strolled back to the hotel. Then we had some for breakfast the next day, then some in the rental car as we made our way down to Chianti, where we would stay another week with friends, and I would finally get my hands into a kitchen.
Last week I gave you a little run-down of our adventures in Florence, navigating the city's culinary offerings without much expert help. Then I spent the day with Judy Witts Francini, aka Divina Cucina, who gave me a new angle on the city...
We've been here in Florence for a few days, wandering the bumpity-bump streets jet-lagged with a two-year-old who has finally had her first slurps of gelato and refers to fresh porcini as "meat" that she wants to "chunk." For the uninitiated, to chunk it is to take a bite out of something; new culinary vocabulary we might all want to add to our culinary lexicon. Even a two-year old knows Italy makes you dive deep into your mind for ways to describe eating.
FINALLY. We are eating outside. Those of you in climates like mine here in New York know what I mean when I say finally. The rest of you probably enjoy eating outside all the time, but for those of us just getting glimpses of summer, June is when we go outdoors. And for those of us cooks with some outdoor space at home, it means cooking and eating outdoors.
This month, all the Apartment Therapy sites, including us here at The Kitchn, are asking readers to tell us about their outdoor life. I'm particularly interested in how you are eating, cooking, or growing food outdoors this summer.
Last week I told you about an idea to serve little bowls of varied prepared vegetables to start a meal and gave the recipes for some minty peas with prosciutto and some asparagus and pecorino cheese. The third dish in the photo was actually a simple preparation of anchovies with croutons (apologies to the vegetarians). Here is the recipe...
The great Swine Flu Freakout seems to have come and gone for the most part, but apparently tourism in Mexico is still suffering in a big way. I just heard about these beautiful market bags being made by a women's collective in the Yucatan in an effort to keep people employed who normally work in tourism.
Wouldn't this make a beautiful market bag for the summer? I see it filled with green garlic and frilly kale.
Last week we ate at Mario Batali's pizzeria, Otto and promptly afterward I decided to tell you about my vegetables sides tucked in little bowls. Last week's email gave the recipe for some minty English peas and prosciutto and today the asparagus with Pecorino is up.
We'll be in Florence next week and we're looking for food tips: great markets, the perfect gelato, antique cookware and linen stalls, anything that a food writer and family would dig.
Maybe you live there and want to have lunch with us? Maybe you've been there and have great notes. Maybe you've read about some must-see food destinations in and around Florence. We're open to adventure and prefer the local scene to the touristy.
Leave your tips here in the comments. Grazie!
Tuesday night we ate at Mario Batali's pizzeria, Otto. The not-so-secret secret to enjoying this place is to order a bunch of the sides and just munch. And so we did. Minty English peas and prosciutto, anchovies with breadcrumbs and scallions, and asparagus with Pecorino were favorites.
But what I was really taken with was the way they were served. Nothing genius, but a great entertaining tip.
What if, instead of a traditional salad or soup, you offered your guests a plate with three little bowls of vegetables to start a meal?
I'm not usually one to buy a whole pineapple — where I live, pineapples are not exactly in season at the moment — but when I was writing The Greyston Bakery Cookbook, I happened to have been pregnant and a craving for tropical fruit must have been coursing through my system.
This is a great sweet treat to take on a picnic, or to eat at home in front of a fan, with your feet up and a tall glass of iced tea, which is how I probably ate them that summer.
Last week when we were hosting our ten full-time staff on retreat, I delivered platefuls of these cookies at tea-time with big glasses of milk. I was told they helped add a little pep to the end of the long days of meetings. I think they might be a new favorite cookie in the house.
I want to impress upon you what a difference it makes to use high-quality Dutch-process cocoa, bittersweet chocolate chips or pieces, and fresh nuts. Ingredient quality and freshness always make a difference, but in this case, with such intense flavors, it is even more so.
We were out of town this week on retreat with some of our staff, and aside from all the work, we also did lots of eating.
Gregory (of Apartment Therapy Los Angeles and Unplggd) whipped up some fine Korean barbecue on our last night, filling our bellies beyond belief. "How many bones do you have on your plate, huh?" challenged one seasoned eater. Gregory won with seven.
I've been cooking for ten all this week as the full-time staff of Apartment Therapy gathers for a retreat. Some of you are getting ready for your final project of the Kitchen Cure: Hosting a Dinner Party and after reading cmcinnyc's comment about having a picnic instead of a dinner party, I thought I should share this recipe for a really easy side-dish or hors d'oeuvres for a large group.