After asking if Le Bernardin could squeeze me in for lunch on Monday, I was in turn asked if I wouldn’t mind sitting on a plush striped sofa and waiting. I didn’t mind, so I sat, only to be directed to a table moments later. When I arrived, it was clear why I was made [read more ...]
As I was lugging my bags of groceries home yesterday morning, the sidewalk heat really got to me and I started feeling all nostalgic-like. I began thinking about Syracuse, and how lovely it can really be. And of course, since I had 15 pounds of food hanging from my arms, I immediately began thinking about [read more ...]
The following will appear in this week’s issue of the Syracuse City Eagle.
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The kitchen was insufferably hot, so I had been zoning out a little (okay, a lot) during a demonstration at culinary school when I heard my chef-instructor say, with plain indifference, “We are oozing butter with the Gratin Dauphinois.”
Oozing butter? It seemed like [read more ...]
The following will appear in this week’s Syracuse City Eagle for my “Miss Syracuse” column.
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“Whisk, whisk!” Chef barked, standing over my shoulder as I incorporated air into egg yolks and a reduction of white wine vinegar. He was watching intently, waiting for me to make a mistake. The béarnaise sauce still looked a little thin, [read more ...]
After running around the Upper East Side all afternoon on the Fourth of July in a silly get-up, I was ready for a good meal. Actually, Ryan and I were both starving, and since neither of us had access to a grill or hot dogs, we did the next best thing to celebrate the birth [read more ...]
The following piece will appear in this week’s Syracuse City Eagle.
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“Never with salt season a stock,” I read aloud from the marker board upon entering class last Tuesday. I’ve been a student at the French Culinary Institute in Manhattan for a little over two weeks, so I’m not yet entirely used to my instructor’s way [read more ...]
Brad Farmerie is interesting to be around, in that he is really a rather cheeky fellow, but can’t quite seem to reconcile with that aspect of himself. When he makes jokes – and he does so often – he lowers his voice and eyes, as though he’s embarrassed to be both cooking and punning. But [read more ...]
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