recipe
Best recipes from the Feast community cookbook for your home kitchen.
The 9 AM Whistle!
Hearing my cooker's third whistle at 9 AM on a Sunday, I rush to turn it off, recalling my mother's presence. This brings me so much ease, especially on a Sunday morning, as my breakfast and lunch are all set, eventually bringing dinner quickly to the table. She has no idea how grateful I am for inheriting her knack for making cooking easier. Watching her swaying her hands and moving swiftly around her kitchen shelves, I realize how fast and easy she makes it look. I can still taste her food, her flavors, leaving me yearning forever. Even now, I take a moment of gratitude, praying thank you, for I would not have survived the days after your stay during my post-delivery. It was never about the duty of a girl's mother to fulfill but how much you took yourself down the road with me, assuring me of your presence. Thank you so much, for you made me fall in love with cooking even more. I want to say everything, but the most we missed was your 9 AM cooker whistle waking us up.
By Parvathi J2 years ago in Feast
Of Sage & Spice
Thanksgiving belongs to Momma. It is her best season, I believe; she thrives amongst the gold and amber and crimson as though she was spun from autumn itself—her laughter crisp as the leaves, her hands warm as spice. The kitchen becomes her stage, and she moves with practiced certainty, measuring by memory, tasting by instinct. Every year, the house glows with pride of the decorations she has set, and the heady aroma of butter, garlic, and sage wafts through the halls, accompanied by the steady rhythm of her best knife chopping celery. The meal is always a spectacular feast, but the real star is not the turkey; At my mother's table, the cornbread dressing is the hero rather than the sidekick. The recipe is hers alone, passed from my grandmother's hands to my mother's hands, and, finally, under Momma's watchful eyes, to mine. This past Thanksgiving, in a kitchen two thousand miles away from hers, I stood before a countertop of cooling cornbread and ground sage, trying to summon her magic from memory.
By Sara Little2 years ago in Feast
The Recipe: Bulla with Spiced Butter and Kale (Gomen)
The Recipe: Bulla with Spiced Butter and Kale (Gomen) Bulla, the core of our highland culinary tradition, can be relished either as a creamy, heartwarming porridge or formed into flatbread, echoing the very texture of the land we call home. When paired with the deeply flavorful nit’r qibe, our spiced butter, and the robust kale wot, this meal encapsulates the essence of simplicity intertwined with rich flavors, a true celebration of southern Ethiopian cooking wisdom.
By Jaffar Redi2 years ago in Feast
Not for Samurai. Honorable Mention in A Taste of Home Challenge.
If you go to any Japanese restaurant anywhere in North America, I can bet you money that you’re not going to find butadofu on the menu. That’s because it’s a meal that’s not fancy enough for restaurants, just simple enough to cook quickly at home from a hodgepodge of ingredients. I’ve found a lot of varieties of this Japanese dish posted online—it’s similar to the American beef stew. While some of the ingredients tend to be the same with each recipe (pork, miso, tofu), other people have added their own signature touch to it to make it unique to their family.
By Alison McBain2 years ago in Feast
Farm to Table
Farm to Table Lucille looked down at the cast iron skillet on top of her range. “Sunnyside up,” she whispered. That is what her grandmother used to call fried eggs. I’ve never tasted a fried egg as good as my grandmother’s. And I’ve never been able to duplicate her technique.”
By Mindy Reed2 years ago in Feast
A Spell For Nostalgia. Honorable Mention in A Taste of Home Challenge.
My mom died when she was only 53 from Ovarian Cancer. I was the eldest of my siblings at 23, and though the time we had her with us feels far too little far too often, I often feel lucky to have known her the longest. I was the only one whose college graduation she got to attend. Her favorite hobbies in life were working out and making food- whether that was cooking or baking. For someone in as good a shape as she was in to die so young just proves that fate is unfair and how long we have is completely unpredictable even if we take good care of ourselves.
By Raistlin Allen2 years ago in Feast
The Lost Soup
Bunia acquired her name in the 1970s. The Polish word for grandma is babcia. Babunia is its diminutive, sweet-sounding form. It was too long for my three-year-old memory though, so she became Bunia, an even sweeter, rainbow-unicorn-with-glitter-on-top version of the word. This was what I continued to call her for ten years.
By K.D. Popiel2 years ago in Feast
Comfort in Casserole . Runner-Up in A Taste of Home Challenge.
My wife is from the heart of the Midwest and one thing she is unapologetic for is her love of a good, hot, hearty casserole. She’s a northeastern Ohio gal, from the Cleveland area to be specific. As a Navy brat who grew up a little bit of everywhere, I also know the love of a good, tasty casserole. My Mom had four kids of her own to feed with varying schedules. A casserole dish was often quick, easy, and generally satisfied all four of us without complaints. Warm, creamy, sometimes cheesy, sometimes… a little strange, there’s just something uniquely special about a nice casserole. From their very origins in medieval France, casserole meals were meant to bring together a community or family over a recipe handed down through generations.
By Josey Pickering2 years ago in Feast
