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Greetings from Carrboro, Personally, I avoid clowns. Not the metaphorical version. No. No. The ones with the very large shoes. And ‘avoid’ is a generous description of my aversion. Sort of like saying that wildebeest avoid lions. Or that the citizens of Tokyo avoid Godzilla. One glimpse and some deep part of me wants to […]

Greetings from Carrboro, October always feels – I don’t know – sane, for lack of a better word. Somehow less harnessed to the dramatic frenzy that runs rough-shod over so much of the year. If life is a relentless game of tag then October is base. So, remember to take a deep breath and enjoy […]

Greetings from Carrboro, Ahhh, America. That bountiful land of mom and apple pie and baseball. And, well, zinfandel. No, really. (The red wine – not the awkward pink sheep in the family). Here me out. Because if Uncle Sam had to hoist a glass to toast this great country it would undoubtedly be zin. Not champagne or […]

Greetings from Carrboro, They’re endless. Or seem to be. These clever lists of simple tricks to make life easier/better/fabulous-er. You know, life hacks. My absolute favorites are the hacks that utilize a common household item in some unforeseen way – “use dryer sheets and canned pinto beans to learn mandarin in a weekend!” That sort […]

Greetings from Carrboro, Bibs are definitely out of fashion. No question. Even the ad hoc version of tucking a napkin into the collar of your shirt before eating has lost its mojo. At least in public. It no longer projects a jovial air of culinary bravado and anticipatory gastronomic pleasure. Far from it. Now squeamish parents […]

Greetings from Carrboro, My aunt spent most of that summer day a good 8 feet up a tree. Please note: this was not some Gwyneth Paltrow-esque plan to connect with nature. She certainly was not the type to search for her inner wood nymph in a copse of scrub oak in hot, central Texas. It was, instead, […]

Greetings from Carrboro, I’m not sure that there is a right way. People debate it all the time. A certain brand of culinary purist requires that you cook them in a cast-iron skillet. Oil, Wondra, salt & pepper. Period. Others complain that they can taste a little scorched – a little too rustic – when cooked that […]

Greetings from Carrboro, As a kid, there were fish camps on Lake Wylie and there was Red Lobster. That was it. And my familial seafood rolodex was limited to fish sticks, tuna casserole, and the occasional broiled salmon with wild rice pilaf. Let me unconditionally affirm that sushi was definitely a bridge too far. But […]

Greetings from Carrboro, I never even considered that my mother’s stuffed peppers had an inspiration. They seemed steeped in a particular culinary sorrow that adults seemed inured to. It was dinner’s equivalent of going to church and sitting next to your grandmother. With a tie on. Huge green peppers martialed into a casserole dish with […]

Greetings from Carrboro, By now, all the pretenders are done. Up and called it quits. All the fresh-faced, earnest souls who dutifully bought their tomato plants in April can only sit and wonder where it all went wrong. I remember that feeling. Was it the birds? The bugs? The deer? The rain? The sun? That […]