As a parent, there are basically three things I am constantly doing: buying new shoes, picking up toys from the floor, and looking for new dinner ideas that my kids will actually eat (something other…than mac & cheese or chicken fingers). My latest discovery: meatballs. It turns out my daughters love meatballs, especially when they are a little sweet. I've been making Jewish sweet and sour meatballs for them every few weeks, but I recently decided to get inspiration from one of their other favorite food groups: dumplings. These… >> Read More
It is a testament to my grief that I actually miss my mother’s bad cooking. My mom was an infamous eater and a lover of food. She scouted out of all the good dumpling and dim sum joints in Silicon…Valley but could barely scramble an egg. Her lack of skills in the kitchen was a source of pride for her, a feminist twist on the myth of the Jewish mother, of pushing food on people already so full that they must sneak away from the table in pain, bursting with kreplach. Yes, Mom hated… >> Read More
Just the other day I was having lunch in LA with a super accomplished friend — a writer, editor, and acclaimed author. She’s insightful, witty, and incredibly generous. She’s also a devoted mom…who has been an incredibly compassionate friend to me over the years. But as we sat at a cute café on Sunset Boulevard eating avocado toast, she surprised me with a confession. "Shannon," she said. "I seriously can’t cook. But I really want to learn how to make some easy dishes for my family." I… >> Read More
Yes, I'm Jewish. And I love it. But I also have some serious Easter candy envy.
I still remember one glorious Passover seder as a kid, when, as a prize for finding the afikomen, my grandfather…gave my sister, my cousins, and me a Cadbury Creme Egg. In my childhood mind, this was infinitely cooler than the silver dollars he usually gave us. The years (um, make that decades...) ticked by. My love of candy continued unabated; meanwhile, I grew up and started hosting Passover seders of my own. Both scarfing… >> Read More
I was nervous. The assistant principal running late, so I sat alone in a hard chair in a Brooklyn high school guidance office. I wiped my sweaty palms on my new suit, hoping I looked older than the…students. I tried to breathe as the minutes dragged on. A redhead with wild curls peered into the office, and raised her eyebrow at me. “I’m interviewing for the guidance position,” I told her. “I’m Paulette,” she said, leaning against the doorway. “I’m a counselor, too.” By the time the assistant principal came into the… >> Read More