Tag Archives: French cooking

The flavor is in the blood

Any cook will tell you, when you brown meat and rest it on the plate, blood will accumulate there and you always use that blood, or whatever juice comes out, when you put it in the pot. I sat in … Continue reading

Posted in identity, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 43 Comments

No Christmas in Germany (21 Dezember)

This month I’ve been featuring journal-style stories from our time visiting my mom in a small German village in Baden-Württemberg.  The series is named after a post from 2014, before we moved here for nine months. We had to leave … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Listening to the band Suicide in an Amsterdam loft

When we leave Germany, the vines growing up my mom’s house have lost most of their leaves and her courtyard has a battered look to it with all the dead and the dying lying on top of each other — … Continue reading

Posted in travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

Cooking French in southern Germany

Competitive beer drinking season has started here in the south of Germany, or maybe never ended, and I celebrated today with a traditional Bavarian lederhosen purchase, made from real cow hide if we’re translating it right, and I look nothing … Continue reading

Posted in humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments