The day Sherman walked into our lives began like most days.

Of late, I’ve become a vegetarian.

In November 2007, Saveur Magazine published a feature story about Clementine Paddleford—a pioneer American food writer who championed American regional cuisine from the late 1920s through the 1960s.

While reading in our living room lined with bookshelves, I hear a conversation underway that spans centuries.

When a small elegantly bound and illustrated travel guide entitled “Florence” fell off a shelf in my studio this week, I opened it and found myself lost in memories.

In the morning quiet at our home in the Sierra Foothills, there is a movie playing in my head.

May is a month when everything tastes better with lemons. Squeezed, zested, sliced, slivered, sipped or preserved, lemons bring life to every dish they meet.

Since learning that our friend writer Matthew Goodman would be in Paris with his wife Cassie in late April, I’ve been revisiting the journals I kept while exploring Paris on past trips with Kit.

In this era of mega modern kitchens and six-burner, industrial Wolf stoves, I would like to speak of the simple pleasures and delicious hours that I’ve spent cooking in small kitchens over the past half a century.

On March 20, 2024, President Joe Biden issued an executive order instructing the National Park Service to “highlight important figures and chapters in women’s history.”

I begin each day with an omelet. Simple and fresh. Made with one or two eggs whisked with a splash of water or cream and a pinch of thyme and Maldon salt flakes.

In the summer of 1994, I was invited by a friend from National Geographic to a retreat at the Sundance Institute in Utah.

Chilly winds are at play with my thoughts these March days.

The first words that I uttered when I awoke March 1 were “Tibbar, Tibbar, Tibbar”— “Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit” as they say in Canada, only backwards.

This brilliant March morning, snow still as stone has fallen on our world in the Sierra Nevada Foothills.

My earliest memory of dates (the kind that dangle in clusters from palm trees) goes back to my mother Alice’s kitchen in the 1960s.

Romance is at the heart of most great novels and movies. It is also still alive in the heart of the country.

In 1962, Euell Gibbons offered some thoughts on wild food.

In A.D. 77, Pliny the Elder, a prolific Roman naturalist, penned his disapproval of cultivating asparagus. “Asparagus,” he wrote, “should grow wild so that everyone may pick it.”

As February gets underway, I find myself reflecting on some of the events and moments that filled January 2024.