Julie Tilsner

Although my mom really didn't cook, she did have a little recipe box, about six inches long and three inches wide; blue with flowers, I think, and a cover that hinged back and over when it opened. Inside were a number of index...

This isn't a blogpost about cooking. It's a post about socks.

Specifically about the four dozen socks in my house that do not match at all, and why every single time I wash socks, half of them disappear. It's about why neither of my kids can ever find socks that...

Here's a parenting conundrum for you.

Do you get the kids to school on time, or do you let them be 10 minutes late so they can enjoy the highly-touted chocolate croissants you've spent the previous 12 hours preparing?

Trader Joe's frozen chocolate croissants pose just such the conundrum. This...

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I can't resist buying beets at the farmers market. And I have nothing but the best intentions for them. I'll roast them! Pickle them! Put them in a salad! Oh the delicious nutrition! Plus we'll all pee red! W00t!

Alas, too...

I didn't even know how to pronounce quinoa until a few years ago,

"KeeNoA," I said. "Isn't that like a super grain the indians used to eat or something?"

"It's pronounced "Keen-WA," said my friend, who watched me silently while I...

I don't buy Dino Nuggets anymore.

The little trog who sat in the high seat in his Batman cape and pirate hook hand and ate them for lunch and dinner is halfway through sixth grade now. He orders the chicken tenders off the adult menu and cleans his plate.

Because this is Valentine's Day and I have no one special to cook for this year, and I'm a grown woman with needs (hey! I'm talking food now. Eyes up here!), I'm going to fantasize instead about all the men who could cook for me. Professionally, I mean.

1. Akhtar...