Big City, Little Chef.
The vet said “The first shot I’m going to give Dexter is a combination of valium and ketamine. It will sedate him pretty quickly without any pain.” “Does everyone ask if they can have some too?” I said. “Yep.” She nodded and continued to fill the syringe. I looked at my 11 year old ...
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Right now, I am sitting on the floor of my living room next to my dog, Dexter, who is having a really crappy day. He’s been stumbling around, weak and not eating. Just yesterday, I was gloating to my mom about how fantastically he was doing, wanting to shout from the highest skyscraper “my dog ...
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Last Sunday evening, in an apartment on the Upper West Side, I turned off the burner, dropped a knob of butter into the pan, and swirled it into the red wine, caramelized shallots, chicken stock, and filet drippings. This is my favorite moment in cooking. It’s called “mounting” (a great technique deserves a great name) ...
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I funneled the last bit of mint mirin aioli into a squirt bottle and labeled it accordingly. I lined it up alongside its cohorts in the fridge – barbecue sauce, lemon crème, dynamite sauce, wasabi mayo – my little sauce army; ready, willing, and able to back me up. I had been hired to cater ...
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Six years ago, when I decided to move back to New York from Los Angeles, I left my dog Dexter behind. I was jumping into a new life with no job, apartment, or impressive savings account and it seemed cruel to make him jump too. My best friend Shannon had always felt a close bond ...
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