All in a day at Montevarchi: olive groves su a Ventena with a rolling view of well tended hills of trees and vines then down to the factory of Prada where if you take a number a world of royal blue satin bloomers and white wing tip shoes with a side cafe to have a campari and soda is yours for the taking. Just down the road we watched Silvio massage great balls of dough into foccaccia and then toured the factory behind. We would have been happy enough with dark chocolate filled with Vin Santo... Read full post

In the morning fog and swallows drifted over the fields of wheat that reach from the kitchen to the road but by the time the frittata was ready for breakfast, only the swallows remained. the group went off to Montepulciano, Montalcino, and Pienza today with Pino and Enzo. and when they came home I set the table and cut more of the roses crowding around the kitchen door, made them a polenta with a pecorino from Sardegna sever with pan sautéed eggplant, garlic and rosemary and roasted tomatoes... Read full post

The group stays down the road. I arrive in the morning to start the coffee pots, heat the milk, bake a cake, and set out pots of yogurt, cereal and fruit, kill the ants and make sure everyone is ready for the world of Italy. They have left me this morning for Cortona, covered in mist and will come back hungry this afternoon to learn how to make a lasagna with silken sheets of pasta, rolled out to paper thin and stuffed with a slow simmering Bolognese, bechamela, and parmigiano Reggiano.... Read full post

I leave tonight for Italy. After I lift my heart up off the floor from having broken after kissing Ferdinand and Jonathan goodbye and try to keep it from falling again before I get through the doors of JFK, and I get on the plane and then off the plane in Rome I have a coffee. A perfectly brewed thick foamed, hair on your head cappuccino at a bar across the street from Roma Termini before I get on the train to Cortona.And then I sleep or stare out the window at the ten sheep still grazing on... Read full post

I usually tell Ferdinand there is no reason for dropping his chin to his dinner plate and lapping up the food without the help of hands or utensils.To walk the dog today I would have bumped down the road but that just doesn’t look right. Instead I drove to the park and hired squirrels. Two sets of house guests for the past two weeks with a day in between and for the last few days sleeping on cushions from a chair in the basement; last night I was up at midnight fishing olives from the... Read full post

Ferdinand and Ann and I sat at a table by the window with a view across the East River of Manhattan and ate chicken dumplings and edamame and cold sesame noodles and miso soup. Ferdinand loved it so much he asked the waitress to sign his scooter.

These should date a cup of milky black tea steeped with plenty of sugar and crushed cardamom pods.
Mix 1 stick of unsalted butter w/1/2 cup of sugar and 1 tablespoon of molasses with your hand.  Add 1/2 teaspoon of pure vanilla extract.  On top: 3/4 cup of all purpose flour, 1 cup old fashioned rolled oats, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder and a hefty pinch of salt (scant 1/2 teaspoon) and a sprinkle of cinnamon (1/4 teaspoon).  With your clean hand mix the dry ing. together, and then... Read full post

is my husband. 
I haven't seen him for weeks more than a minute.  
I feel like an ocean fish on a freshwater drip, and my cooking is showing signs of cracking.  Last night I made hamburgers w/sides of buttered rice and braised string beans.  Not a smashed herb or a chutney or even an onion. 
Ferd loved it.  

If I’m going to cook for somebody I have to step up to the plate. It’s like the movies–if you didn’t believe Clooney loved the girl it wouldn’t work. Clooney has to love her.
The morning of every job I press my whites to stiffness, scrub myself, push my hair into a manageable twist and get ready to give everything I’ve got to make sure the food is delicious.
Last night: bruschette w/President butter and paper thin radishes w/sea salt and smoked salmon.... Read full post

Not all men are the same, not all dirt is the same, not all haircuts are the same, and not all zucchini are the same.What they have in common:
1. You can’t leave any of them in the bottom of a refrigerator drawer and expect them to improve.2. If you start with quality, you won’t be as tempted to leave them in a refrigerator drawer.3. Improvements can be made
My man started out fine and remains fine. The dirt out back was a bleak misery but has been nurtured, cuddled and caressed... Read full post