This week, I thought I’d go for something fresh, local, and seasonal. Continue reading
Growing up, I was a picky eater who knew a few things to be true. Latkes could be enjoyed with sour cream or applesauce, but never both at the same time; bagels with lox were to be eaten open-faced, never as a closed sandwich; challah tasted best when torn by hand and stuffed into your mouth in great, greedy gulps; and, perhaps most importantly, real Jews didn’t eat mayonnaise. Continue reading
Case in point: This spring, for reasons I still don’t totally understand, I was invited to a party celebrating the various different types of flours manufactured by Bob’s Red Mill. (Seriously, the invite was a total mystery; I hadn’t even started my incredibly well-trafficked food blog yet.)
Because I figured (rightly) that such a party would involve not only the standard open bar but also a variety of professionally made baked goods, I jumped at the chance to attend. Continue reading
And so we arrive at Treif Corner.
But first, a story. Nonnie grew up in a pretty strictly Orthodox household, doing the things pretty strictly Orthodox Jews do — keeping kosher, regular synagogue trips, the whole Megillah, so to speak. Then, around age 13, she visited a gentile friend’s house, tried bacon for the first time, and — according my mom’s telling, anyway — decided the whole organized religion thing was bullshit.
Which brings me to this blog’s maiden pig-based adventure. Continue reading