French do it, Arabs do it, Indians, Dutch and Germans do it… grandmothers and guys do it… non-cooks and cooks do it: bring back typical foods from their home country that are impossible or difficult to find in the United States, or very expensive, or not the real thing. Continue reading
My late grandmother had the peculiar habit of never unpacking gifts we gave her. She would set them aside “for another time”, leaving them at my parents’ home forever wrapped and unopened. One of those Christmas castaways was a baking book with color photos. I spent many hours leafing through it, salivating over recipes like chestnut ice cream cake. This was in the mid-1970s, long before the Internet propelled lavish food photos into every corner of the world. Continue reading
It must be the “Waste not, want not” mantra instilled in me by my grandmother that makes me relish when I am able to turn a cooking mishap into a tasty dish. Last week I over-baked the German gingerbread and ended up with cookies that were still tasty but rock-hard. Nothing that a good old trifle could not soften, I thought, and into a trifle with pears they went. Continue reading
Spoonfuls of Germany 