Scrambled Egg Tacos

My memory is not the best.  Many times I can’t recall what I did last weekend or even yesterday without looking at my calendar.  Note to self: see primary care physician pronto about memory lapses.  So when it comes to my childhood, my memories are few and far between.  I’m not sure if it was elementary school or middle school, but I remember searching for four leaf clovers at recess and anxiously standing in line to play “wall ball”, a game for the cool kids which involved hitting a bouncy ball against a wall repeatedly.  One of my fondest, most vivid grade school memories is of Taco Tuesdays

Fig, Goat Cheese, and Prosciutto Baguette

My Nonna lived in a Brooklyn apartment next to an espresso café and a small market with a great candy selection.  Nonna’s apartment was a strange playground; the stuffed piranha on the window sill, the massive wooden crucifix over the guest bed, the symphony of city sounds from the street below and the sweet hiding place behind her corner armchair.  My favorite thing to do when visiting in the summers was to pick figs.

Marinated Olives and Celery

It’s a shame that so many people dislike olives.  I love all kinds.  I love the mild, pitted black olives that I would fit on each of my fingers when I was little, plucking each salty one off with my teeth.  I love the plump, firm green ones that I would devour at my aunt’s house at every holiday dinner.  I love the oily, pebble-sized assorted colored ones served in delicate white ceramic dishes at wine bars.  I also love the intense saltiness of Kalamata olives tossed with hot pasta and broccoli rabe.  Olives are salty, bitter, juicy and addictive. 

Poached Egg with Crispy Prosciutto

I’m intimidated by a package of bacon.  There are too many strips of it (which I know I’ll be eating all by myself), it leaves a big pan of oil that I never know how to discard correctly (my boyfriend used to pour his bacon drippings in the potted plants outside) and it showers the entire kitchen in a greasy mist (stove, counters, walls, shirt, everywhere).

Buffalo Tofu with Celery Salad

Telling someone you have a blog is like telling them you have a foot.  Almost everyone has at least one.  That's why I kept quiet about it when I was chatting with television personality, Ted Allen last week.  I don’t usually chat with Ted Allen, but was lucky enough to exchange a few words with him during his book signing at Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn...