Please pass the artichoke. Some days . . . I miss California. Before the kids came along, my husband and I used to share a meal of steamed artichoke with crusty bread and hot dripping butter. In the ongoing commitment to slow our meals down with our children, we shared an artichoke last night. Watsonville, welcome to New York. Once we devoured the choke, we finished the artichoke-laced butter with grilled Naan. Nothing wasted.
When 10 pounds of potatoes and a couple dozen ears of corn show up unannounced, welcome them home to the chowder pot. After transforming our