SPANAKOPITA

SPANAKOPITA

As a child, I hated spinach.  My mother tried every tactic of persuasion to get me to eat it—to no avail.  Yes, I knew it was good for me—just like every food that seemed disgusting was “good” for me.  No, I didn’t want to be like Popeye—who would want to be a...
The Non-Exploding Pie

The Non-Exploding Pie

The picture of the pie on this and my previous blog entry is not the “exploding pie”.  Rather, it is how the exploding pie would have looked if I hadn’t screwed it up.  It was an aesthetic failure and, simply, a god-awful mess because I was careless....
Bake a pie or blog?

Bake a pie or blog?

I’m broke. My restaurant went belly-up two months ago. My arthritis is giving me fits.  I have a chest cold. My older dog, Moses, has been dead for three days.  I’m an unemployed, achy,  snot-clogged, one-dog chef in his late fifties.   It is a...