Cooking For Sig

A Sous Chef and Her Stories

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Quintessential Summer

photo (21)For most intents and purposes, I am a city girl. I grew up in a city, went to college in a city, and moved to a new city with Matt to start my adult life. I’ve never owned a car. I like to have everything I need within walking distance. I like to have a short commute to work. I like to walk out my door and be assaulted by options – restaurants, stores, museums, and parks. Continue reading



The Grilling Saga Continues

photo (13)Monday evening was perfect grilling weather. It was warm, but not hot, sunny and dry with a gentle breeze. Plus, Matt arrived home just as I was headed down stairs with a tray of food, so I had the pleasure of his company while I tended the grill. Then disaster struck. While flipping a piece of tofu with a pair of tongs, I lost my grip and it landed on the ground at my feet. I looked at the sad, dirt covered tofu, looked at Matt, then back at the tofu. I pouted. “Five second rule. Pick it up,” he said. And so I did. Continue reading

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Routine Gone Awry

Much like my father, I am a creature of habit. I wake up early, exercise, shower, eat breakfast; same thing every day, almost without fail. On Saturday mornings I go grocery shopping, first thing before the store gets crazy, so that I can browse comfortably without having to navigate the crowds or jostle for a spot in line. This was my dad’s routine too. He and I would go together to Bread & Circus and spend the better part of the morning, slowly perusing each aisle. We would often couple this errand with a trip to Dewar’s, the local butcher in Newton Centre. These were blissful bonding moments, peering into the glass cases together, looking for the best cuts of meat or specialty cheeses. Continue reading

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The Communal Grill

for blogIn October, my husband Matt and I bought our first home in a 1907 coop building in the Adams Morgan neighborhood of DC. We know our neighbors by name. We know our neighbors’ cats by name. We have potluck parties and lend each other jars of dried oregano. I feel like I’ve been transported back to my childhood block, where we walked out our front doors with cups of sugar for the neighbors across the street. I am wildly in love with this little community we’ve found. Continue reading