I went to my first march when I was 10 or 11, a big NOW wave through the streets of Boston, flanked on either side by my mother and grandmother. It ended in a grand church where some important speaker got up and spoke about the power of choice, but, distractible as I was, I spent the…
colette's library
Let’s just pick up right here. Or rather, back then. The summer I was sixteen, I lived in my aunt and uncle’s basement in San Francisco. They lived in a purple victorian in the Richmond District. The basement room belonged to my cousin Colette, a painter maybe 8 years older than me who also had…
fried shishito peppers
Oh you blink and then the summer is gone! The manuscript is done (at least for now), and you’ve barely swum in the river but you did manage a few glasses of pink wine in the backyard here and there and one of your children just might have nearly inched taller than you. And then…
go to maine
Hey hey! Can we talk about next weekend for a moment? I’m teaching a class next Saturday (that’s August 6) at Stonewall Kitchens in York, Maine, and I just got word that there are spaces left. So how about it? How about Maine next weekend?
how to make a pie
So far this summer, I’ve made strawberry, strawberry rhubarb, blackberry, blackberry raspberry nectarine, and blueberry. I’m dragging my feet big time in the kitchen when it comes to recipe testing for this new book, but I swear I’d make a pie every single day if I had the berries to fill them. It is my…
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Occasionally I teach workshops, and I have one coming up this fall. Join me and stellar novelist 