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Because I totally forgot!  Seriously, I was so distracted by little feet at my feet and big feet coming home from a long day of work, that I completely neglected to take photos.

I am forgetful, so this is not entirely suprising.

I learned about these little gems a few weeks ago when a fellow Dining Diva selected El Salvador for our upcoming dinner gathering theme.  She selected pupusas for the main event and invited us all to get our hands messy by making them with her last weekend.  Last night’s repeat wasn’t quite as successful, making it clear that these babies take practice.  The masa needs to be just right, the filling flawlessly seasoned, and the pan perfectly oiled and heated.

Despite the lack of photographic proof, these pupusas must be documented.  They are delicious.  And not just a little bit, not just because I needed a break from hum drum taco night, not because I was way too hungry to judge properly. 

Served with curtido, a fresh pickled slaw, these are a winner.

I used a recipe from but this is really just the beginning.  Practice is the main ingredient that cannot be substituted.



It all started with some leftover whipped cream.

Leftover whipped cream is a sad sight. Before long, it turns into a floating island of whipped cream on top of a milky puddle. Mmmm.

But if you’re careful, and you act quickly (say, by the next day) you can save the part on top from being completely lost.  In fact, I once learned that whipped cream is best stored in a sieve propped over a bowl.  I had not done this in my sleepy haze the night before, so I had no time to waste.

Rewind to Sunday, grocery store day. Beautiful rhubarb in the produce section and a recipe from Gourmet Live just waiting to be tested.

That’s when this happened:


The recipe isn’t too fancy. Chop some rhubarb and toss it in a pan with just enough sugar to keep it tart. Simmer until it turns jammy. Cool.

Whip some cream, add some sour cream and powdered sugar, whip some more, then add a splash of sherry.

Layer them together in a pretty cup and crumble some ginger snaps on top. I used the ginger snap recipe from my dear old copy of Joy of Cooking, subbing about 1/3 of the flour with whole wheat flour…combined with dairy and fruit, this might even pass as breakfast!

What’s the problem with this recipe?  Too much whipped cream. Fast forward to Wednesday.

I was going to make a quiche, so first I made some pastry dough. I like to use Julia Child’s recipe from Julia and Jacques Cooking at Home (signed by Jacques no less — thanks Rob!). It’s classic and easy and I realized that my past failings with pastry dough came largely from lack of confidence. Using the same recipe over and over has helped me overcome.

Letting the dough rest in the fridge gave my taste buds just enough time to start thinking about the whipped cream…and the leftover rhubarb jam…and the apples on the kitchen table…and then the quiche became a frittata with a lovely fruit pie for dessert. Perfect!



I have very fond memories of Pizza Night.  Specifically, I remember the local Greek pizza restaurant we frequented when I was a kid. I’m not talking about the renovated, expanded version that moved in when I was in high school. I’m talking about the small, dark, tv on in the corner variety, complete with booths and a counter seating three.

Take out was fun because I, the awkward 10 year old as tall as most 14 year olds, would always get a wink from one of the two brothers who owned the shop. There was Tony and there was Paul…one of them was the front-of-the-house charmer and the other was always slinging pizzas in the kitchen.

Eat-in was fun because the Greek salad would arrive on a huge white platter with a giant slice of salty feta cheese on top. All of you from big families know what it’s like to be staring down a beautiful platter of food and wondering who’s going to get the first (and biggest) serving. Oh man does my mouth water just thinking about sneaking bites of that feta. A shake of oil and red wine vinegar on top was all it needed. Delish.

Today, pizza has a whole new meaning in our family. My honey runs the local pizza shop, started by his dad over 20 years ago.

“Do you ever get tired of pizza?”, you ask.


Heck no!  Thin crust, Sicilian, pan pizza, pizza by the slice, New York style, Greek, Italian – and don’t get me started on toppings – who could get tired of pizza?

Sure, everyone is ready to go home at the end of the workday. But Pizza Night is here to stay.


Last night’s pizza was made from store-bought dough in a seriously-well-seasoned pizza pan from the restaurant, topped with fresh pineapple, crispy turkey bacon, and a blend of cheddar and provolone cheeses.  H’s personally decorated mini cheese pizza was made on a lightly oiled piece of foil.  Both were heavily loaded with cheesy goodness this time.  And we like our pizza extra crispy!

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