Recipe

You know what’s not easy? Dealing with mortgage lenders. Also, finding contractors who actually show up when they say they will to give...

Most Lents, God does a far better job than I do of picking penances for me. Take this year for example. I thought I'd do the usual no...

It is one of the great ironies of the culinary world. Few things on earth are as tasty and hearty as a simple Indian Dhal. But few thing...

I think there is a special place in heaven for the genius who first dreamed up combining olive oil, garlic, and salt, with vegetables and...

It's now officially Lent, and I am having a good, old-fashioned case of Catholic guilt. I'm feeling guilty about not posting enough on...

I am currently persona non grata in my corner of Steubenville. Not because of any advice I've been dishing out as of late, but rather...

Sorry for the light blogging folks. I'm afraid it's going to be what way for the next month or so. A major book deadline is looming,...

It's been a rough week around here. Not "people dying, children starving, hurricanes hitting" rough. Just "deadlines looming, plumbing...

When I started this blog, I promised my friend Lindsay that I wouldn't lose perspective on what I was writing about (food) and start...

Dating in your 40s is a little like dating in your 20s. You still plan fun trips together and talk about cool new cocktail bars. But, you...

A few months back, in the deep, dark, frozen recesses of January, a friend showed up at my door with two crates of blackberries in hand. ...

Sorry there hasn't been much food blogging these past couple of weeks. I've been traveling, traveling, traveling—including to beautiful...

On Sunday, it snowed. Again. On Sunday, my plans got cancelled. Again. On Sunday, I wanted to throw knives. Again. But, instead of...

It was supposed to be a simple dinner. It was supposed to be quick, easy, and nothing about which I had to fret my little head...which is...

Right now, everything in my world is a different shade of gray. The sky, the ground, the roads—all of it. Gray, gray, gray, gray, gray....

Last month marked the thirteenth anniversary of my move to Steubenville. I was only supposed to be here for two years...three tops. God,...

It's February, which means I'm in the middle of most  every self-employed writer's personal hell—a.k.a. "tax season"—drowning in receipts...

Our pasts have a way of writing themselves on our bodies. At least for me, that's especially true of my hands. For example, the scar on...

You live, you learn. Case in point? The great cookie disaster of 1996. In December of that year, during my senior year in college, I...

In my family, the men cook. At least most of them do. My brother-in-law Andy can't boil water (or so my sister Annmarie claims), but the...