Winter — ’tis the season to make clam chowder. I continue to hone my clam chowder recipe, which I originally shared almost five years ago. This chowder originated as a recipe shared in Bon Appétit magazine, but I’ve adapted it enough that I feel content calling it my own.
I’ve probably made this chowder 25 times now — I make it five or six times a year. Each time I make it, it’s a little different. I learn things as I go. My latest version of the recipe is narrative.
J.D.’s Clam Chowder
Read this entire recipe before starting. Prepare all ingredients in advance. This recipe can be time-consuming (it takes 60-90 minutes from start to finish), and until you know where your slack periods are, it’s best to have everything ready to go instead of having to scramble in a panic because you suddenly need your onions.
Open two 51-ounce cans of clams. Reserve the juice into a large pot. Add 5# russet potatoes (do not use Yukon gold — they’re too mealy). Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and cook until potatoes are just tender (al dente). They will soften more in later steps. Draw off about two cups of liquid from the potato mixture for later use.
Mince a bulb of garlic (a bulb, not a clove). Rub the inside of your largest pot with garlic. Set garlic aside. Chop two yellow onions. Chop a bunch of celery, including leaves (but not including bases, of course).
Over medium heat, melt half a stick of butter in your largest pot (which has been rubbed with garlic). Add 1# bacon, chopped. I prefer thick bacon for this chowder. Pepper bacon is good. (I sometimes use bacon ends from a local butcher — they’re big and meaty.) Brown the bacon. When the bottom of the pot becomes gummy and sticky, brown for another minute or two. Add celery, onions, garlic, and one bay leaf. The vegetables will remove the gummy stickiness. Cook for several minutes, until vegetables soften.
Reduce heat to low. Stir in 1/2 cup flour. Once everything is good and gummy, gradually add the previously reserved potato liquid, whisking occasionally. This will create a thick, gummy gravy-like mass. It will thin as you add more liquid. By adding the liquid slowly, you’re able to keep more of the thickness. (You may also increase the thickness by using more flour. But this chowder isn’t meant to be a thick chowder.)
Stir in clams. Stir in one tablespoon hot pepper sauce, such as Tapatío or Tabasco. (I prefer the former.) Stir in one tablespoon hickory smoke salt. Add potato mixture and stir. Add one quart half-and-half. Add copious fresh ground black pepper to taste. Simmer five minutes, stirring frequently. This allows the flavors to blend.
This chowder is good immediately, but it’s even better after a couple days in the fridge. It keeps for up to a week. This recipe will probably make about 16-20 servings.
Do not skimp on the hot pepper sauce. This is a crucial ingredient. I’m not joking. I also think the hickory smoke salt is important. I use Spice Islands brand. (It may be possible to substitute liquid smoke, but I haven’t tried that yet.) This chowder is even better with fresh clams, but I haven’t perfected ratios and quantities when doing it this way.
Jenn recently made this chowder using fish stock in place of some of the clam juice, and not using any smoke seasoning. It was good, and less salty than my version (which I confess is pretty salty). Her version actually had an unexpected sweetness to it that surprised me. It wasn’t bad, but I plan to stick with clam juice in the future.
This recipe makes a ginormous batch of the stuff. That’s the way we like it. It’s enough to feed a dinner party, with lots left over. When I make this, there’s always tons left over so that Kris and I can eat on it for a week. Which we do.
I’ll probably have more to write about our trip in the future, but at the moment it’s all so overwhelming. There’s so much to tell — where do I begin?
Kris caught a cold in New York, and so has spent the last several days under the weather. I, on the other hand, am full of energy and ideas. After visiting so many beautiful places on our trip, I decided it was a shame that we don’t make Rosings Park everthing it could be.
For example, we visited Jane Austen’s house at Chawton, just south of London. While the house itself was rather unremarkable, I loved the yard. (Or “garden”, as the British call it.) It reminded me that outside spaces can, with creativity, be turned into “rooms” of sorts.
“I want to do that with our yard,” I told Kris.
“Fine,” she said. “As long as the house is still screened from the road.”
I rose early on Saturday, and one of the first things I did was begin ripping out the undergrowth and dead wood from the shrubbery in front of the house. It had occurred to me that there was enough space in this spot to create a sort of quiet reading place. It’s near the road, true, but it’s shielded enough by holly and laurel to be relatively private. (And our road has light traffic, anyhow.)
At first I had planned to rip out the huge laurel near the house, but after spending an hour inside the grove (as I’ve come to call it), it was clear that the laurel was actually responsible for both screening the house from the road and providing a good deal of shade. Besides, after clearing away all the other crap inside the grove, there’s a large open space perfect for my intentions.
So now I’ve cleared an open area in the shrubbery in front of the house. The next step is to determine exactly what to do with it. Do I lay down some gravel? Some paving stones? Leave the hard ground as it is? Do I build a bench? Buy some outdoor furniture from Craigslist? Do I need to plant another bush or hedge to screen the grove from the road?
It also occurred to me that it’s ridiculous that I haven’t finished my horseshoe pits. I started that project nearly eighteen months ago, did about two-thirds of the work required, and then stopped. The area had become overgrown with blackberries, cherries, and locusts. So, I took the time on Saturday to pull these invasive plants up by the roots. There’s still a lot of work left to finish the job, but at least the area’s presentable now.
On top of these two projects, there are two similar jobs I want to do. Underneath our redwood tree is a perfect space for a bench to overlook the side yard. Right now, though, the space is filled with three years of branches from trees and shrubs. We need to rent a chipper and clear this space. Finally, behind the smoking porch is another section of overgrown shrubbery, beneath which could be another nice sitting area. The trick here is that the compost pile is just outside the space, and will have to be moved (where?) in order for it to be usable.
So, I’ve been busy working outside. The camellias need pruning, as do several other hedges. The lawn needs to be mowed. (In August? Unheard of!) Often I view this sort of work as a burden, but now, because I have a goal, it’s fun. This is what I want to be doing. I’m even working on these projects at the expense of my web sites.
Paul and Amy Jo have moved into the neighborhood. They’ve purchased a house about a mile down the road, and are in the process of gutting it. They dropped by our place last night to pick up some stuff (Rosings Park is acting as one staging ground for them), and we convinced them to help make pickles and then to go for dinner at Gino’s.
Gino’s is our current favorite restaurant. It’s not cheap, but it’s not expensive either. The food is excellent, and generally the service is as well. Last night, though, was a different story. For whatever reason, the place was slammed at 7:30, despite the fact it was a Monday night. The restaurant was understaffed (and some of the staff that was there was new). This made for a very frustrating dining experience.
We arrived at 7:30. We were seated at 7:54. It took forever for anyone to take our drink order, let alone the order for our meal. We received our appetizers at 8:32. We didn’t receive our meal until 9:09, more than ninety minutes after we had arrived. As I say: a very frustrating experience.
This has not, however, soured us on the place. The food was excellent, as usual, and there was no question that the restaurant was far, far busier than anyone had expected. If we hadn’t been so damn hungry, the wait might not have even been an issue.
Tags: Food · Portland · Rosings Park
More and more, Kris is becoming my partner on these blogs. Here she provides a guest entry for foldedspace.
Over the past few months, I’ve entered hundreds of recipes into MacGourmet, a computerized recipe database. While working on my recipe project this weekend, I came across an old mimeographed and bound cookbook put together in 1947 when both my grandparents and great-grandparents were working for a naval base in California. I thought you’d get a chuckle out of these.
Ambrosia Pie (Great Grandmother)
1 pint heavy cream
16 large ginger snaps, + 2 extra for garnish
2 tsp vanilla
2 Tbsp sugar
9″ graham cracker pie crust
This is an ice-box dessert and should be prepared 6-8 hours before use. Whip the cream so it will hold its shape but not be too dry. Break the gingersnaps into pieces about the size of a quarter and stir into the whipped cream. Add the sugar and vanilla and heap into your pie shell. Sprinkle with crushed remaining two cookies. Set in refrigerator until ready for use.
Chicken Chasseur (from Grandmother)
Take one stewing hen. Boil with 3 stalks of celery, 1 large onion, salt and 5 peppercorns. When tender, remove meat from bones, put in casserole with onions. Add parsley, sage and thyme. Pour over meat 1 cup dry white wine and 1 cup cooking liquor. Sprinkle with breadcrumbs and add 2 lumps of chicken fat. Cook in 325 degree oven for a half-hour.
Chocolate Puffs (Great Grandmother)
1 large bar Baker’s bittersweet chocolate
2 squares baking chocolate
1 package Rice Crispies cereal
Melt chocolates together in a double boiler. Pour in the Rice Crispies. Stir until they are uniformly coated in the chocolate. Drop by large spoonsful upon waxed paper and put outside to cool. This is something a child can successfully make.
Boneless Birds (from Great Grandfather)
Split the flank steak or have the butcher do it, then cut each half in half again to make 4 6″ squares. Lay flat, season well with salt and pepper. On each piece, at one end, place a piece of bacon, a sliver of dill pickle cut lengthwise, some chopped onion and a slice of garlic salami (diced small). Roll up each steak and skewer neatly with toothpicks. Fold ends together and skewer to keep contents in.
Put a teaspoon of fat in a Dutch oven and brown the “birds” well on all sides. Then, add any leftover onion, a teaspoon of vinegar, a generous dash of Worcestershire sauce. a bay leaf and a can of tomato paste. Reduce heat and cook slowly for one hour. Add water if it gets too dry.
Fruit Salad Dressing (Great Grandmother)
1 egg, well-beaten
2 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp cider vinegar
1 tsp dry mustard, heaping
1 cup heavy cream
Cook all ingredients except the cream until they get quite thick. This must be done in a double boiler. Cool. Just before you are ready to use, whip the cream quite stiff and at the last few turns of he beater, fold in the cooked mixture. Pile on top of your fruit salad and top with a cherry. This makes an excellent tangy dressing.
These recipes are so, well, vague. What are you supposed to do with the Chicken Chasseur? Eat it over noodles? By itself? And what about the ingredients? There aren’t any amounts for anything! How much parsley? Where does the chicken fat come from?
It’s not just the vagueness that shocks our modern sensibilities. The very notion of eating some of these things puts my stomach ill-at-ease. Ambrosia pie? It’s just whipped cream with soggy cookies! And what’s up with that fruit salad dressing? (Just reading the ingredients makes J.D. sick.)
Aside from the “ick” factor, reading recipes like this should remind us that we need to provide specific weights and measures when we write things down for friends and family. (At least if we want our recipes to be prepared by our descendants.) Who knows if a package of Rice Krispies from 1947 is the same size as it is now. How much, exactly, is “one large bar of Baker’s bittersweet chocolate”? And how about “16 large ginger snaps”?
I’ve only posted the silliest recipes here, but I found my great-grandfather’s crepe recipe, which I remember eating in my grandmother’s house, and a braided Christmas pastry recipe that brings back fond memories. So many of our childhood memories involve food — it would be great if the recipes that we (not J.D. and I — but we as a generation) passed on were actually useable by our children. (Not to mention appetizing!)
Tags: Food · Personal History · by Kris
My obsessions with clams continues. I’ve been ordering them whenever I can find them on a restaurant menu, so I’m beginning to get a feel for the varieties available. My favorite are still those at Gino’s, primarily because they’re more soupy. Most clams come steamed and served in a sauce of some sort. But they’re mostly clams. The ones at Gino’s are served with far more liquid than others I’ve found. I like that.
This weekend I decided to finally learn to make clams on my own. We’re hosting our informal monthly “food club” next weekend (a club that includes me and Kris, Paul and Amy Jo, Mike and Rhonda); I’m hoping to make steamed clams. We’re supposed to only prepare new recipes for this gathering, but I’m leery of preparing clams for the group without having done so before. So I’m experimenting. Good thing, too.
On Friday I bought two pounds of “steamer clams” from Thriftway (cost: $11.50). I assumed that these were the sort I was getting in restaurants. Wrong. Steamer clams are big, much larger than the clams I get at Higgins or Gino’s. I didn’t realize this, though, until I fixed them Saturday morning.
I found a recipe from Caprial that sounded promising, and began to prepare it. I brought a cup of white wine and two teaspoons of butter to a boil, and then added the clams. When they opened, I was shocked to see how much meat was inside. The idea of eating this was gross, even to me. I changed tack, and set those clams (and the liquid) aside for some chowder.
Tiffany took us for a hike later in the morning. Afterward, we stopped at Costco where I was able to purchase a five pound bag of Manila clams for $17.50. Jerry, the seafood guy, gave me a recipe for preparing the clams (which was basically one I had come up with on my own: white wine and garlic), and guaranteed me that I would love these clams or I could bring back the empty bag and get a full refund. Nice guy, that Jerry.
At home, I tried a variation on the morning’s recipe. Someplace (I can’t remember where), I had clams with bacon, and quite liked it. So, I melted a little butter, added some bacon ends (I keep a stash of these in the freezer — I buy a bag at a time from Voget Meats in Hubbard), and fried the bacon til crispy. Then I added some minced garlic and minced shallots, frying these til fragrant and golden-brown. Next I added some white wine. When this was boiling, I added the clams.
The end-product was good, but I actually found the dry white wine too piquant. It was overbearing. Also, the clams are still larger than the ones I get in the restaurant. I think the restaurant clams are “littlenecks”. I’ll have to find a place to buy them.
I’ve offered to make clams for dinner tonight, and Kris has gamely agreed to eat them. I’m going to adapt my recipe a little. I have about four pounds of clams left, so I’m going to do the following:
- Melt a tablespoon of butter in our soup kettle.
- Add a handful of bacon ends, cooking them til crispy.
- Add several cloves of garlic and most of a shallot, minced, frying these til golden-brown.
- Add the rest of the bottle of pinot gris (about two cups?), bringing it to a boil.
- Add the clams. Cover them til they open. When they do, I’ll pull them from the kettle.
- Finally — and here’s where the recipe steers toward Jeremy’s — I’ll add a cup or two of fish stock. I’ll bring the mixture to a boil, reducing it some (though not too much &mdahs; I want a broth, not a stock).
I’d love to add saffron to this — the big restaurants do — but I don’t know the proper stage to add it. I’m also curious about hickory-smoke flavor. Not with this particular recipe, I guess, but in general I think a smokey flavor would go well with clams. I’ll have to experiment with that, too.
I’ve been on a clam kick lately. Over the course of a one-week period at the end of March and beginning of April, I had awesome clams three nights. Oh my. How come no one ever told me they were this good?
I’m going to ask for the recipe at Gino’s next time I go back — those are my favorite of the three I tried — but meanwhile I got Jeremy to try to remember his recipe (which was ad hoc to begin with). He basically made up the recipe as he went along, and then he and I tried to reconstruct it over the phone two weeks later. There are bound to be errors, but it’s a good basis from which to work.
In a large pot, brown 6-8 oz. of hearty, spicy sausage (he used soppresatta) in a couple tablespoons of fat (he prefers olive oil, but thinks butter would work). Add 3 shallots (or, he said, 1-1/2 cups onions) until they begin to caramelize, then add 5-6 cloves of garlic. Don’t let the garlic burn. When things are browned nicely, add about 1-1/2 cups white wine. Boil to reduce by half. At 1/2 cup of clam juice, 4 cups fish stock, a can of tomatoes, and some a pinch of hot pepper flakes. Bring to a boil. Add 2-1/2 pounds of clams and cook until they open. Distribute clams evenly to serving bowls. Reduce liquid. Add some fresh ground pepper and 2-3 tablespoons butter. Ladle sauce over clams. Serve with garlic crostini.
I did some googling to try to find a a recipe similar to the one at Gino’s. Their dish is more “soupy” than Jeremy’s sauce. It’s a garlic/saffron thing with clams and mussels, served in a dish of broth. (It comes with bread, too.) It’s heavenly.
All I came up with was clams in garlic and wine, which is actually closer to Jeremy’s concoction.
I’m angling for more clam opportunities in the next few weeks. We’ll be dining out with a web acquaintance, with a group of Portland bloggers, with the MNF group, and then probably with Andrew and Courtney. I’ll be hoping for clams every time.
Kris and I went out to Gino’s for dinner on Friday night. Since Amy Jo introduced us to the place a couple months ago, it’s become one of our favorite restaurants. It’s relatively close to home, the food is good, and the booths are private.
Ostensibly our purpose was to discuss my possible transition from the box factory to stay-at-home, full-time blogging. In reality, we wanted some of Gino’s hot food.
Most restaurant food is served tepid. It’s warm, but either the food has been sitting under a heat lamp, or it was never truly hot in the first place. (Often both.) This isn’t anything we’d ever really noticed until we found Gino’s. At Gino’s, the food arrives at the table piping hot. It’s a revelation.
On Friday, for example, Kris ordered an Italian herb-encrusted chicken on a bed of potatoes. When she cut through the bird’s crispy skin, steam poured from inside. She took a bite. She closed her eyes and sighed, “Mmmm…. this is so good, so hot.” The entire meal was like that.
For my part, I had a bowl of clams and mussels in a broth of wine, butter, and fish stock. When I met Tom and Paul at Gino’s in February, we’d ordered this for the three of us, and I had been shocked by how good it was. Sometimes you order an unassuming dish in a restaurant only to discover it’s one of the best things you’ve ever eaten — this is one of those dishes. My bowl came hot, too. It was delicious.
On Saturday we attended an impromptu dinner party at Jeremy and Jennifer’s. Yay! It’s been more than three years since we last experienced a Gingerich dinner party — this was the best yet.
For appetizers we had:
- puff pastry with melted blue cheese
- lime-pepper dates stuffed with almonds
The first course was, to my delight, a close facsimile of the clam dish I’d had at Gino’s the night before. Jeremy reduced some wine and fish stock with a lot of garlic and a little pork of some sort. He added a bunch of clams to the liquid and boiled them ’til they opened. After reducing the liquid further, he served each person 7-8 clams, a cup or so of sauce, and some garlic bread. It was awesome. (Gino’s version is more of a broth; Jeremy’s was more of a sauce.)
Next came an asparagus salad with tangerine aioli and hazelnuts. This was followed by a butternut squash ravioli with browned butter and hazelnuts. (Jeremy and Jennifer have a filbert orchard, so hazelnuts are plentiful.) The entree was rack of lamb served with green herb-butter mashed potatoes. The lamb’s presentation was great: it featured three chive stalks jutting from the potatoes. The evening wound down with a cheese plate, and then a banana bread pudding with chocolate and caramel sauces.
The food was delicious. The wine was excellent. The company was delightful.
But all I can think of in retrospect is that I WANT MORE CLAMS! I’ve never been a huge seafood fan, but the older I get, the more I learn to appreciate its charms. (Here’s a promising clam broth recipe from Giata.)
Tags: Food · Friends and Family
From the kitchen of Mike and Wendy Pringle comes this top-secret recipe for Chet, a seasoned salt of which I’ve become quite a fan. Wendy slipped me a note card with the ingredients when she arrived at Ham Feast the other night. And here, for the first time, I’m making this secret recipe public.
To produce Chet in your own home, combine the following: 26oz salt, 1-1/2 oz ground black pepper, 2oz ground red pepper, 1oz garlic powder, 1oz chili powder. Optionally, add 1oz of MSG.
What can you use Chet for? What can’t you use Chet for? Use it for burgers and salads and soups and scrambled eggs and grilled fish and fresh-sliced apple. Use it for anything where you want a little kick.
We had dinner with our friends Chris and Cari on Saturday night. Michael and Laura joined us. And, of course, the kids were there: Kaden, Ethan, Emma, and Sophia.
Kaden is nearly seven, and has begun to exhibit strong personality traits. He was born on Leap Day, and so I always kid him about his age. “You’re still only one,” I say. “You’ll be two soon.” The other night he frowned a little and told me, “That’s not really funny anymore.” Touché! He likes his tropical fish, and he loves his Legos. I think he’s a great kid. (The other three kids are great, too, but this entry is about K.C.)
While at dinner Kaden commented that he liked salt. Kris told him how I have a habit of eating salt when I’m very, very hungry. We’ll be sitting in a restaurant waiting for our food, and I’ll tide myself over with a touch of salt from the shaker. Kris thinks it’s strange, and I suppose she’s right.
Anyhow, K.C. was effusive in his praise of salt, so I took a page from Craig’s book. I’ve created a salt sampler for him from the various flavors in my library, and I’ll mail it to him later today.
The flavors I sent him include:
- Top row: sea salt, real sea salt (very salty), sea smoke salt, garlic salt.
- Bottom row: herbed salt (from Italy — very good), seasoned salt, Caribbean salt (from Connecticut), hickory smoked salt (I use this all the time).
The herbed salt came from Amy Jo (who has recently resurrected From a Corner Table). Craig and Amy Jo appreciate my love of salt, and encourage it with salty gifts from time-to-time. And now I’m passing these gifts on to the next generation of salt-lovers.
Tags: Food · Friends and Family · Kids
The extended holiday weekend gave me an opportunity to catch up with old friends.
On Wednesday, Andrew and Joann joined us for dinner. In August, they hosted us for a couple of nights during our trip to San Francisco; we were happy to return the hospitality. We decided to fix them a swell new dish: beef tenderloin stuffed with pine nuts and monterey jack cheese. Unfortunately, the dish was swell only in theory.
That’s right — we committed an entertainment faux pas by attempting to impress company with a meal we’d never tried before. We could have served Caprial’s beef tenderloin with pepper and port sauce, a dish we’ve made many times, a dish that we can nail, a dish that never fails to impress. But we got cocky and went for something new. The results were disastrous. Though we followed directions, the meat was bland and undercooked. I thought the balsamic vinegar clashed terribly with the other ingredients. It was a mess. We should have surrendered and ordered pizza, but we stuck it out, finishing the steaks. Andrew and Joann get gold stars for that.
After dinner, I preached the glory of the Wii. We had fun with Wii Sports, but when it came time to play something else, I realized I don’t have any other good multiplayer games yet. We tried to play the Monkeyball party games, but it was an exercise in frustration. None of them made any sense. And I hadn’t unlocked enough of the Rayman multiplayer games for it to be any fun. My top priority for this machine is to get another fun multiplayer game so that my evangelism can carry more weight.
My weekend food endeavors weren’t all bad. I made some yummy mashed potatoes for family Thanksgiving on Thursday. On Saturday, I surprised myself by mixing up a batch of damn good bean soup. It was easy! Here’s what I did:
J.D.’s Impromptu Bean Soup
Soak 2-1/2 cups Bob’s Red Mill 13-bean blend for six hours. Rinse. Add 2 quarts water. Bring to boil over high heat. While waiting for the boil, add the other ingredients as they become ready: 3 tablespoons Bob’s Red Mill Bean Soup Seasoning, 1 teaspoon hickory smoke salt, 1 yellow onion (diced), 3-5 cloves garlic (minced), 1 can tomato sauce, and about 1 pound of the pork product of your choice. (I used ham because we had some in the freezer. Bacon works. Fresh ham works.) Cook for about two hours, until beans are done to your liking. Remove from heat. For best flavor, store overnight in fridge.
It’s good stuff, I tell you — good stuff!
Yesterday we met up with Nicole Lindroos and her husband, Chris Pramas, for brunch at Wild Abandon in southeast Portland. Paul and Amy Jo joined us. I love to go out for breakfast. It’s a treat I don’t get very often because it’s Kris’ least favorite meal. It was an adjustment for me to order a breakfast with limited sugar. Normally I’d devour a huge stack of pancakes and then slather them in syrup. Yesterday I ordered a ham-and-cheese omelet with fried potatoes. The only real sugar came from ketchup and from a small blueberry scone. Still, the meal was good.
I should join Paul and Amy Jo for breakfast more often.
Tags: Food · Friends and Family
Kris and I are lucky to have friends who love food, friends who love to cook and share their cooking with others. I’ve often said it would be fun to create a friend cookbook — to collect favorite recipes from everyone we know, and to publish them in one of those cheap spiral-bound fundraiser books.
Kris and I have already begun the process, to some extent, though not in a truly systematized fashion. Whenever we taste something we love — at book group, at a dinner party, and Monday night football gatherings — we ask for the recipe. We’ve been adding these recipes to MacGourmet, an inexpensive recipe database.
I was afraid that MacGourmet would be pointless, but we actually like it. It’s easier than collating piles of recipe cards, or dogearing pages in cookbooks. “The best thing is that you can search,” Kris says. “You can say, ‘I have zucchini. What can I make with zucchini?’ If you have enough recipes, you can get some good answers.” I like that MacGourmet lets you tag recipes with keywords, add photos, and note the source.
I also like that MacGourmet lets you publish your recipes to the web. If you’ve ever followed the “eat” link in the sidebar, you’ve discovered Recipes from Rosings Park, which is our ongoing collection of favorite dishes from friends (as collected in MacGourmet). We recently updated the list. Here are some of my favorites:
There are some notable dishes missing here. Paul’s posole, for example, and anything from Kara or Kim. Also, there’s nothing from Craig! Actually, we still have tons more recipes to enter. “I haven’t even put in a quarter of my recipes, so it’s kind of silly to post this now,” Kris told me when she saw what I was writing. I’ll just have to post again later when we have everything in the computer.
Tags: FS Best Of · Food · Friends and Family