Meatballs in Pomegranate and Cumin BBQ Sauce
Do you remember when you were a kid and spaghetti with meatballs seemed like the very peak of gourmet Italian cuisine? Ooh, or the first time you were at an “Adult Party” and the host was passing around a platter of mini sausages in a grape jelly glaze, or meatballs smothered in what can really only be described as ketchup mixed with pineap

Chickpea and Potato Samosas with Cilantro Tamarind Sauce
I feed my friends leftovers.  Let it be known.  I feel no shame for this fact, and given half a chance I would do it again.  In fact, I can almost guarantee that I’ll do it again.  This shouldn’t surprise you from somebody who turns leftover Thanksgiving into both addictive appetizers and

Choosy Beggar Bonanza #1: Winner!
Before we get to the big announcement, I’d just like to take a quick minute to very publicly and happily wish my sweet fiancee a wonderful and happy birthday.  She’s the only woman I know who would spend an entire day cooking food for her own birthday party, simply because it’s what makes her happiest:  making food, giving it to everyone she cares about, and getting them all fat and happy for a night. People look at me a bit funny when I tell them the kinds of things I buy for Tina on occasions like this.  Back over last Christmas, I got all sorts of confused reactions after I shared my gift of a meat grinder with everyone, ranging from the pitying to the near

Quinoa with Feta, Shrimp and Fennel
Buying quinoa for this meal was like a particularly vicious and unexpected donkey punch from someone that you thought was a friend.  I usually buy quinoa at a bulk foods store where it’s delightfully cheap, but hey, I was in a rush so I thought I’d pick some up at the “affordable” (read: discount) grocery store on the way home fr

The Comfort Zone: Reminder and Story
Well guys, it was my full intention to give you an actual post today.  The recipes are starting to pile up, the card on my camera is full, and I’ve got leftovers out the wazoo that need to be eaten before I can start cooking again. But instead?  I’m drinking vodka with diet cream soda and humming the theme song to The Drinky Crow Show (awfully catchy, it is!) and trying to forget that the week isn’t over and I’ve already clocked in enough hours that I’