Nature loves diversity.

Or, as any self-respecting, pocket protector owning, socially awkward uber-geek knows that put another way, is the statement which forms the basis of Vulcan philosophy; infinite diversity in infinite combinations.
The diverse combination of which I speak today isn’t quite as exotic as the love child of a blue-skinned, antennaed Andorian and a species which looks like nothing so much as an evolved Tyrannosaurus Rex, a Pahkwa-thanh.
It’s an egg dish which is a culinary marriage of Italy and France.
In France, there is something called a galette. There are actually two somethings. One galette is a free-form pie. You roll out a large circular shape of short crust pastry. Rustic is the name of the game here, so you don’t want a flawless geometric circle with clean, perfect edges.
You then place the filling on the dough, leaving a two-inch border around the edge. The edge is folded up and painted with an egg wash. If it’s a sweet galette, sugar is sprinkled over the whole confection, and it’s baked to golden perfection. A savory version is made the same way, only sprinkled with salt, pepper, and any herbs or spices desired.
But it’s the other type of galette which is used in our diversity dish.
I like pie, I really do. My mom makes a pecan pie to break your heart. Warm apple pie wearing a scoop of rich vanilla ice cream is a well-deserved, delicious classic. And all Edwards frozen pies are really tasty, but their lemon merengue with vanilla wafer crust is almost a religious experience.
Like I said, pie is a gift from the culinary gods, but the second type of galette has to my favorite…it’s taters. If I had to give up either pie or spuds forever, it would be goodbye pie.
In this galette, waxy potatoes are peeled and sliced about 1/8 inch thin. Then you melt some butter in a cast iron pan and, starting at the center, lay down slices of potato in a rosette pattern. Repeat for a total of three layers, seasoning each layer.
With a traditional galette, you brown the first side, then place a plate over the skillet, flip it, return it to the pan cooked side up, and brown the bottom.
With this treatment, you flip the potatoes and turn the heat down. Then for the Italian portion; called a frittata, beat beat up 6 eggs, season them, and stir in some bacon, caramelized onion, lightly steamed broccoli florets, and sundried tomatoes. Pour it over the spuds and cook for 5 to 6 minutes or until it starts to set around the edges.
Sprinkle the top with crumbled goat cheese. Then set the pan in the oven under a low broiler until the frittata is just set, and it’s puffed and very lightly golden. Remove from oven, slide it onto a serving platter, let it sit for a minute or two, then slice and serve. It will feed six. It’s actually good cold, so leftovers make a great lunch the next day.
So, when I was telling The Kid about this recipe, I didn’t explain which kind of galette I was talking about. And when I got to the part about flipping it, my child got very confused, with visions of an up-ended free-form cherry pie. But when I explained it was a potato galette the dish got a vote of confidence.
So my lesson is a new twist on a brunch dish.
And The Kid’s advice is if you have a pie, don’t flip it upside down.
Thanks for your time.
So, even though the expiration date on our car registration was May 15th, when I went to renew it online on May 10th, we got hit with a $15 late fee. The penalty notice was so very regretful, so insanely polite, so almost sickeningly sweet, that it could only have been written by a Canadian.

Fact three- When your feet swell they will try to expand in any manner possible; i.e.—through many little holes.
Egregiously bad ideas a husband can have: Never, not ever, and I mean never put exercise equipment under the Christmas tree. Even if it is a gift “for the whole family”. As my mother so wisely states, “You have to sleep some time.”
No matter what the guy at the comic book store would have you believe, neither the Keiko O’Brien doll, nor the special limited run of the graphic novel written by Danielle Steel and illustrated by Thomas Kinkade will ever increase in value.
Thanks for your time.
And as for chocolate. There are two kinds of people: those who love chocolate, and liars.
Today I have a special recipe. It’s one that reminds me of a special treat from the mists of my childhood, when disco was king and Jordache jeans roamed the earth.
With five kids from the ages ranging from 12 to four to look after, the grownups chose the alcohol-free option. We packed up swimsuits, sandwiches, and flip-flops. Sammy and Candy were taking us to their lake club. It was set in a pine grove, with lots of shade, sand, and refreshment vendors.
I probably got an icy bottle of coke, and a bag of chips. I saw the Italian ice man. I made a beeline to see what flavors they had. They had the mandatory lemon, strawberry, grape, and orange. But, they also had another flavor, chocolate. That was a new one on me.
These days I don’t have to go all the way to Raleigh for my fix. I discovered chocolate sorbet. An ice cream company named Talenti makes one that I always try to have on hand. It’s a little denser than an ice, but really full of flavor, not too sweet, and dairy-free, so it’s only 150 calories per serving. It’s perfect when I want…no when I need, a big hit of chocolate.
And the next time you meet someone who insists they don’t like chocolate, tell ‘em to stop, drop, and roll, ‘cause somebody’s pants are smoking.
2 ¼ cups water
Before I write another word, for the sake of your circulatory system and my conscience, I need to be completely honest with you, Gentle Reader.

I succumbed to poutine at lunch yesterday. And it was really good. But again, so very calorific and rich that The Kid and I shared an order, and last night for dinner I was fine with just some fruit.
Fry-In a large heavy pot, sauté the base. Get some type of fat hot. It can be butter, oil, or render some bacon. Then toss in some kind of base; onions, mushrooms, or meat (like that delicious, delicious bacon).
Deglaze- Add cold liquid to the hot pot. This will immediately lower the temp and allow you to scrape up brown bits. If using alcohol, allow it to almost cook out, then pour in enough stock to make an unctuous sauce. Add back veg, but hold bacon for garnish.
Instead of fries, use tater tots. Cover with lashings of mushroom/onion gravy in which you deglazed with sherry, then added beef stock. Sprinkle on a big handful of coarsely grated hoop cheese on top.
How about some sweet potato poutine? Make sweet potato fries, either homemade or store-bought. This time use goat cheese, and red-eye gravy. For the gravy, cook bacon until it’s brown and crispy. Remove bacon from pan and stir in flour. Then add a couple cups of coffee and whisk until thick. Top with crumbled, crispy bacon.
Thanks for your time.
A never-worn pair of Louboutin pumps in size 10 at a consignment store.
All items bought in the heat of the moment because they’re pretty and inexpensive. Then when you get each one home, you think, “What now?”.
Heat up Chubby’s guacatillo and stir in some chicken. Pick up some fresh tortillas at your local tortilleria (tortilla bakery), and heat them in a dry skillet. Layer the saucy chicken on tortillas and top with cilantro and white onion.
But, it’s bathing suit season.
Oh, and that bowl, the flowers, and those shoes?Put some water in the bowl and float some hydrangea flowers in it. They’ll be a beautiful decoration at your cocktail party where you’ll show off your fabulicious shoes.
1 ½ cups mayonnaise

It’s the singer-dancer-actor Gene Kelly of the kitchen. A triple threat.
One of the favorite meals in our family is roadkill. It’s not what you think, though. I have never served flattened possum, or sunbaked squirrel. Roadkill is our name for porcupine meatballs. But because I have trouble making meat spheres, I make patties. And years ago The Kid decided the pressed shape with bits of rice poking out resemble the result of animal versus auto.
The best, nay, the only side dish allowed when we dine on road kill is steamed cauliflower tossed with plenty of slowly cooked, chestnut-colored butter.
For softened butter, just brown the butter and let it re-solidify, stirring occasionally to keep the browned solids dispersed.
2 cups nut pieces of your choice 
2 cups confectioners’ sugar
As good as these bars are, The Kid has a real problem with them. It has nothing to do with flavor; they are bright, moist, and sweet, but thanks to the brown butter, not too sweet.
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But Libby is dangerously allergic to peanuts. Eggs and dairy are issues as well.
In 0.77 seconds I found 1.12 million results for “name of George Clooney’s pet pig”. It’s Max by the way; and he’s been at the great barnyard in the sky for 11 years! But good luck finding recipes for non-allergenic dog treats.
I took them over for Luna and her girl. And when I left, Libby was standing in a pile of dog biscuit crumbs, alternating between feeding them to her buddy and to herself.


In eggs, as in much of life, simpler is better. And the simplest, tastiest, most satisfying way to cook and eat an egg is scrambled.
To this day I don’t know if that’s how they really ate their eggs, or it was all an elaborate, egg-wasting hoax, but those sweetened eggs were terrible, horrible, no good, very bad food.
7 large eggs
Serves 2.
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“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!”–The eternal, plaintive cry of every over-looked, unappreciated, forlorn middle child.
How, you may ask? I was neither a foster child, nor am I referring to past lives. And despite mighty, mighty provocation, I’ve never indulged in a spot of fratricide.
So, when they got hitched, they had an eleven-year-old son. And when I was born, I had a twelve-year-old brother. And brother is how I think of him and what he’s always been to me.
I was also the baby of the family.
So, to sum up: it’s pretty darn crowded in my brain box. And, I posses conflicting personality traits that could probably serve as the master thesis for some poor twitchy psychology student.
Thanks for your time.
Mom’s from New Jersey and my dad’s from Pittsburgh. Jersey was also represented in her sister, Aunt Polly, and her brother and my Godfather, Uncle Sammy, and his wife Candy.
My brother was born in Mobile, and his wife and daughters are NC born and bred. Petey’s from a long line of Tar heels, and The Kid is 100% pure Durham.
But, it was the food which starkly illustrated the North/South divide.
First up was ziti. Ziti is the ham biscuit of the northern states. Whenever there is any occurrence that necessitates the bringing of food; funerals, sickness, babies, there are pans of ziti. Every well-stocked freezer has a pan or two; ready to go in the oven, or out the door.
Although ziti is also a pasta shape the type of noodle in a pan of ziti is cook’s choice. Both my aunt and mother favor rigatoni. But I’ve made it with everything from actual ziti, to my fave, cavatappi; a long corkscrew-shaped, ridged tube.
Candy’s last dish was simply very thinly sliced kielbasa slow-cooked with sauerkraut in a crock pot. It was amazing by itself, but it would be a revelation heaped onto a warm pretzel bun and slathered with mustard.
Because at that point, we all surrendered—to flavor.
Preheat oven to 350. Slice 7 or 8 zucchini length-wise. Using a spoon scoop out seeds and pulp, and place pulp in a skillet along with ½ diced yellow onion and a spoonful of dehydrated garlic. Cook in a little butter until the liquid is mostly cooked out and veggies are golden-brown. Stir in enough Italian-style breadcrumbs to stiffen the stuffing. Spoon stuffing into zucchini. Bake uncovered about 40 minutes, until the zucchini is tender, and the stuffing has browned. Serves 10-12.