Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Who doesn't love a hot dog? They're an iconic American food and are a fixture at backyard barbecues. German immigrants brought hot dogs to America and made them famous by selling from stands at ball parks. Ever since, Americans have had a love affair with the frankfurter, as they were called then, and franks as we call them now. Summer grilling wouldn't be complete without hot dogs. It's always easy to throw some dogs on the grill—you have a crowd-pleasing outdoor dinner in no time.

When it comes to hot dog condiments there are those who prefer ketchup and those who swear by mustard. As a kid I drowned my hot dogs in ketchup. But now as an adult I have the mature taste buds to appreciate tangy mustard (preferably spicy brown) and a little sauerkraut. The toppings debate won't be decided upon anytime soon, but I'm always up for a twist on tradition with a new kind of topping that's sure to pique everyone's interest.

My oldest son saw this in a magazine and instantly proclaimed he wanted it for dinner.  I was rather surprised as most kids, including my own, don't like food that is touching or mixed up.  In other words, casseroles are usually out.

But when my kids see something they want me to make, I usually oblige.  However, I can't even begin to imagine what the calorie count is here.  Actually, I don't even care.  Moving on.

I have to admit this quiche is pretty cool, it does taste exactly like a cheeseburger.  A bacon cheeseburger.  You have a crust in place for the buns and this thick slab of cheese on top, meat in the middle and what makes it most authentic tasting is the dill pickle relish.  The relish just gives it that "cheeseburgeresque" taste.  Leaving it out would be a mistake.  A big mistake.

Your first bite will surprise you as your mind is seeing quiche but you are tasting burger.  I even wanted to squirt some ketchup on the side for a little dip.  I think I'll try that tomorrow.

Seattle is a dream city for a coffee-lover like me. If you type “coffee” on your smart phone’s Google Maps while standing in the city, it will explode.

On a three-day trip to Seattle, I decided I’d hit every coffeehouse that showed up on my map. I made it to nine before collapsing in a petit-mal seizure. By the time I walked into number nine, my hands were shaking so bad that I couldn’t swipe my credit card, so I had to just dump my cash on the counter for the barista to sort through.

Even in Seattle, you can’t survive on coffee alone; fortunately, there is no shortage of croissants, scones, macarons, and other assorted carbohydrates to keep you alive. My favorite were the bundt cakes, of which there were countless varieties in the coffeehouses I visited.  Bundt cakes are homey, comforting treats, perfect to pair with a strong mug of coffee. Or two. Or nine.

With our 12th wedding anniversary right around the corner, I thought I’d look up 12th year wedding gifts. The traditional gifts are silks and linens. Who came up with those? Does that mean I should expect a linen table cloth? Should Jeff expect silk pajamas? I think not.

In fact, after 12 years together, I want to give Jeff something memorable, something unique. So, I was thinking a potato. Not any potato. (What kind of wife do you think I am?) A jacket potato, as they call it in England, or as we Yanks call it, a stuffed potato. Now, before you consider me the most un-romantic person you’ve ever met, read on.

 Our honeymoon had an inauspicious start. Our scheduled non-stop flight from Boston to London was cancelled due to thunderstorms, and consequently our luggage was “misplaced” (the Brits’ genteel word for “lost”). In part due to a choppy ride and part due to just-married-bliss, we did not sleep on the flight over and landed in London late and red-eyed.

When we arrived, we discovered that our inn was just as we anticipated: a Victorian brownstone on a tree lined, thoroughly British street. There was even a consummate Brit, heels clicking on the pavement, with his walking stick swinging in one hand and the Sunday Times in the other.

The woman at the inn greeted us warmly then asked for our name. After Jeff told her, she looked at him, then at me, then back at him and back to me. She said, “Uncanny how much you two look alike. Are you brother and sister?”