If you have an Italian grandmother who bakes biscotti, you should probably stop reading right now. Once you have this recipe, don’t blame me if she turns on you, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. OK, my conscience is clear. I started baking biscotti more than 20 years ago. I was never really a fan of them when I was young because they were always the same;…
These were the names on my street in New Brighton, Pennsylvania when I was growing up: Pfeiffer, Schaeffer, Smeltzer, Pfleghar, Anderson, Golbertson, Tunno. It’s like those second grade quizzes where you pick the one that doesn’t fit. The 50’s and 60’s were not the diversity-loving present. I was born only 10 years after WWII ended, and back then things like internment camps were a reality. My parents wanted…
I get excited about baking and cooking, like some people get about shopping or vacations. It’s a sickness; and my two brothers, two sisters-in-law, several nephews, a niece-in-law, and my kids, share it. Nuclear annihilation could be imminent…and all someone has to say is, “I could go for a little more of that pasta we had for dinner, wasn’t that good?” And the floodgates open: “Yeah, wow the…
Thank God the holidays are over. I can finally stop baking. Who am I kidding? I never stop baking. Here’s proof. I just stayed up until 12:30 a.m. baking cookies for my sister-in-law’s birthday. Today is January 6th. Her birthday was October 7th. But that’s why I had to bake cookies, I rationalized. This way she’ll know she’s special even though I’m three months late. They’re restitution cookies.…