All in House

Pretty Dresses



Growing up, my sister and I moved around a lot.  We weren’t Army brats or the daughters of oilmen: our parents stayed in the same place.  We just moved in between their homes, every week or two for over a decade.  Besides the obvious, this was not ideal for multiple reasons: the soccer uniform was never at the right house; there would be 8 hairbrushes at one and none at the other; and you hesitated every time someone asked you your home phone number.  Something I still do.   Two things, however, remained constant.  Frisko and Yaya.  Frisko arrived around the time that the moving began and was an even-tempered marmalade or ginger cat with dog-like tendencies.  Yaya is an even-tempered Jamaican woman who, for all intents and purposes, was our third parent.      



KNIVES | 18 March 2014

The first cooking course I ever took was Techniques of Cooking I (since renamed Fine Cooking 1) at the Institute of Culinary Education.   Every Monday I would duck out of work a little early and head to 23rd Street to spend the next 5 hours cooking.   During the first session, we were instructed that in order to get the most out of the course we would have to purchase and subsequently bring our own knife to class.   In future weeks I would sit quietly on the subway looking around at all my fellow passengers wondering what they might have in their bags considering I had an 8-inch knife in mine.