From the kitchen
Table
A record of meals I have cooked. Not a recipe site. Not a food blog. What I cooked, what worked in it, and why. A slowly accumulating document of how one person ate over decades.
2026
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Some planning goes a long way, and that is as true in the kitchen as anywhere. I do meal prep on the weekends, which all but guarantees healthy, good meals during the week with minimal effort and time. This was one of those: most of the work already done, the plate coming together in the time it takes the oven to finish.
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Sunday, no grocery shopping that weekend. We were out, hungry, tired — and resisted the temptation to eat out. A home-made meal, even a very simple one, beats most choices. We looked at what was in the fridge. Not much. The point of a post like this isn't that the meal was special. It's that eating well, even from very little or when you are tired, is a choice.
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I loved this bread enough to ask the baker to teach me how to make it. He gave me a four-hour hands-on training, me and 3 brothers, 2 of which from different mothers. I came away with the technique, the rhythm, the feel of the dough. But some things are inseparable from the place that produced them, the memories created, and that is part of why we keep traveling back.
