It’s 5 o’clock, and you’re leaving the office in search of some post-work libations and snacks before dinner. You could go the traditional happy hour route — where you’re limited to a few drinks and small bites within a short window of time — or you could up the ante and visit a Japanese izakaya.
Tag: David Lebovitz
My copy of Lebovitz’s book is already stained (with coffee) from just looking at it. It’s the best type of food porn available: high production values (great recipes and gorgeous photography by Maren Caruso); a cast of stars (Chocolate Orbit Cake, Kumquat Sticky Toffee Pudding, Apple-Quince Tarte Tatin) that are hot, but not out of reach; and a writer who supplies, if not a story line, then enough anecdotes to keep me interested (The Racine’s Cake recipe was, after all, found written on a men’s room wall). It’s one sexy book.
Spring has sprung in the city! There is asparagus in the markets, flowers popping up at the corner store by my place, and it’s no longer getting dark at 5:30. Hallelujah. For me, that generally means going for runs after work instead of hunkering down, making lots of fresh salads for dinner, and doing a little spring time baking. So here is a lovely recipe for a lemon pudding cake — I made it with lemons from my mom’s tree in Marin and had the other ingredients in the fridge. It’s relatively simple, light, and perfectly tart.
There are myriad guidebooks to Paris: Pudlow, Michelin, and Lonely Planet, to name a few and all of them worth the money. They tell you where eat, where to stay, and what to see.
And then, of course, there are guidebooks to Paris– those that tell you all of the above plus a little bit more, like how to navigate unfamiliar social customs, how to blend in with the landscape– in short, how not appear as though one has arrived from Central Casting to play the Ugly American. The Sweet Life in Paris by David Lebovitz is that and a bit more.
It has recipes. Lots and lots of recipes.
There is a tradition in my house around this time of year. Come Easter Sunday, a cake must be made, and it must be made in the shape of a bunny or a lamb, using a special bunny- or lamb-shaped cake pan (preferably the one passed along to me by my mother, from her mother). Once the cake is baked, it’s frosted with white icing and lavished with pastel-dyed coconut (to represent bunny fur or lambswool, if bunnies had a thing for Manic Panic hair color). Jelly beans stand in for eyes, mouth, and general bejeweling. The type of cake–white, yellow, lemon–is less important than the fabulousness of the decoration.
Calling all cupcake lovers! Make them or buy them and share or just eat them, this Sunday at CupcakeCamp. Cupcake tastings will be scheduled at different time slots (e.g. by flavor, baker, or store) and categories to be judged include Best Frosting (flavor), Best Cake, Most Creative/Unique/Original/Bacon. For those bringing cupcakes, the limit per person […]