Month: December 2015
This post is to point out something that, well, if you’re reading this, you’ve probably already noticed: Orangette, the old gal, got a facelift.
The feel of this site is important to me, as I know it is to you, and I hope you’ll find the new look as clean, calm, and pleasant as the old one. The whole idea here was not to add tons of bells and whistles and shiny things, but simply to make this site easier to use and more useful for all of us. You’ll see that we now have a real, honest-to-goodness recipe page, and that recipes are categorized not only by ingredient(!), but by season(!), by course(!), and even occasionally by holiday. (You’ll also see that I am still building that recipe page; 500+ posts is a lot to categorize.) We also have a books page, and an events page, which I will update on an ongoing basis. And recipes are now printable! And you can pin stuff! And if you ask me a question in the comments section, I can reply directly to you! I’m beside myself. I owe a towering debt of gratitude to Sam Schick and Eli Van Zoeren of Neversink, pals and wizards alike.
I would be honored if you would take a look around and make yourself at home. While you’re at it, please reset your bookmarks and whatnot to orangette.net. And thank you, thank you so much, always.
I come to you today for three reasons: 1) it is so windy outside this morning that my entire house will shortly be carried away (to Oz, I hope) and I want to leave you something to remember me by; 2) there is a fat, freshly baked loaf of banana bread on my kitchen counter that is not for me, and we all know how this will end if I don’t occupy myself; and 3) though no one needs encouragement to buy more stuff, I enjoy a nice holiday gift guide. What follows is a quick, and possibly too late to be useful, tour of some of my favorite things to give and receive, accompanied by a selection of photographs…Read more
A couple of years ago, late one winter morning, we were out running errands in the neighborhood, and we stopped into La Carta de Oaxaca, on Ballard Avenue, for an early lunch. June was still in a high chair and not yet fully proficient at chewing anything with crunch, so we ordered their sopa de pollo for her, a rich, brothy chicken soup served in a bowl big enough for mixing cake batter, with the meat still on the bone and big hunks of zucchini, carrot, and chayote. I shredded the meat onto a plate and chopped up the vegetables with the side of my spoon. She ate with her hands, the juices running fast down her forearms, which were then still…Read more