End of summer golden gazpacho

3 Sep Palate Gal's end of summer golden gazpacho

I credit ketchup for my love of food. My dad, in his infinite wisdom, introduced ketchup as a last resort to his obstinate toddler as he coaxed her (me) to eat. While successful in the early days, Palate Gal - ingredients for golden gazpacholittle did he know that I would later identify ketchup as its own food group.

For a long time, I loved ketchup more than I loved any other food, and I put it on just about everything that wasn’t salad. My ketchup usage hit such highs that I remember my grandmother telling me to “quit it” as ketchup was just “red sugar” that I was “drinking like soup.” (Probably true.) I don’t recall rethinking my choice for even a minute.

To this day, sometimes I crave ketchup and go out of my way to make or buy something I can eat it with. Just ask the server at America’s Dogs in O’Hare¬†International Airport. Continue reading

Not-so-Philadelphia-but-still-great soft pretzels

11 Aug Not-so-Philadelphia-but-still-great pretzels

Every native Philadelphian has a special place in her heart for pretzels, and I am no exception. As Wikipedia will tell you, “in the 19th century, Southern German and Swiss German immigrants introduced the pretzel to North American.” (Thank you, Southern German and Swiss German immigrants.) “The immigrants became known as the Pennsylvania Dutch, and in time, manyPhilly pretzels handmade pretzel bakeries populated the Central Pennsylvania countryside, and the pretzel’s popularity spread.”

And so it went. By the time I came along in the mid 1980s, pretzels had been a Philadelphia staple for almost 200 years. Every class party, every field trip, every football game, every city street corner featured Philly pretzels. Oblong, crusty, salty, and moist on the outside, white and soft on the inside, and squeezed together shoulder to shoulder. Continue reading

Eggplant and rainbow chard stir fry

15 Jul PalateGal_Eggplant and rainbow chard stir fry

Of all my material possessions, the eggplant costume hanging in my closet gives me the most joy. My mom hand-sewed it for me for Halloween in 5th grade, and I have worn it for almost every costume-required occasion since then.

The typical exchange goes something like:

Other person, as he or she looks up and down from my leaf and stem head piece to the giant, shiny, maroon-y purple bulbous blob hanging over my shoulders and down to my knees all around me: “Wow, what a great costume!” Continue reading

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