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, little 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
It has been cold here in Brooklyn recently. Not just normal-winter-in-the-Northeast cold, but biting, wind-swept, I-don’t-want-to-go-outside cold. Visiting friends recently felt compelled to invest in heavy duty goose down parkas, and the sidewalks near my Midtown East office are starting to resemble a zoo of small, furry, brown animals (that is, made into jackets, gloves, and absurd hats and worn by women who lunch).
E and I were hosting some friends for dinner, and we both agreed that a hearty, warm meal was the way to go. Rick’s brisket, Roasted Squash with Lemon-Tahini Dressing, and Pomegranate Hazelnut Wild Rice fit the bill.
The star of this meal was Rick’s brisket. It all started with my great grandparents, then came their children, and their children, and their children, and their children. At this point, we’re 60+ people and still going strong. We don’t distinguish between 1st, 2nd, and 3rd cousins, we have a well-used family listserv, and we have welcomed nearly 15 new cousins in the last 8 years alone. Continue reading