Comments on: Like he did

By: Anonymous

Anonymous — Sat, 03 Jan 2015 03:46:17 +0000

I often thought my one dog smelled of burnt butter, and my other dog of snow.

By: Brittany Dunn

Brittany Dunn — Tue, 23 Dec 2014 03:59:10 +0000

From the picture, I expected a recipe for cooking some sort of organ meat. Then I read the recipe and my first thought was, “Is Endive not just lettuce but also organ meat?” Then I looked at the picture again and, oh. Just endive. Surprising!

By: mashandboil

mashandboil — Thu, 11 Dec 2014 01:29:38 +0000

This recipe looks wonderful. And I'm so sorry the three of you are sick! My roommate and boyfriend were both recently sick for 8 WEEKS. It was awful, and I don't know how I remained impervious to it. Still I sympathize with the both of you! Feel better soon.

By: Bonnie MacDonald

Bonnie MacDonald — Mon, 08 Dec 2014 19:42:04 +0000

It is uncanny how those of us who have lost a parent – being completely separate people who have lost unique loved ones, never to be repeated – can feel so similarly when we grieve. Your words sounded like some of the many blog posts I've written about my mother, who I only lost a little over a year ago, also to cancer. The feeling I got reading your words was so familiar, it gave me chills. How can that be?
I've so enjoyed reading your blog for many, many years now and it's because of your honesty and bravery in sharing your life with us. It's a gift and I thank you so much.

By: ScottGN

ScottGN — Fri, 05 Dec 2014 20:30:25 +0000

By the way if anyone wanted to try their hand at growing endive (or witloof as we tend to call it in Commonwealth countries) they could do a lot worse than turn to the typically clear and forthright advice given by the great American garden writer Eleanor Perényi in her book of garden essays Green Thoughts. She'll also tell you how to lay down an asparagus bed too if you want to do that.

By: Mrs. White

Mrs. White — Fri, 05 Dec 2014 18:52:36 +0000

This is the second endive recipe I've read today; the other was on David Leibovitz's blog and features endive cooked in butter, wrapped in ham, then topped with bechamel (another commenter mentioned a similar recipe). I shall take it as a sign that I should eat endive this weekend. Lovely!

By: Helle

Helle — Thu, 04 Dec 2014 07:48:17 +0000

Cooked it yesterday, and it was very very good. But next time I will substitute two thirds of the butter with olive oil – as it actually says in a recipe of yours from some years back ;-))

By: Kacie

Kacie — Mon, 01 Dec 2014 22:11:32 +0000

Lovely stories about your father. Thank you for sharing. I love, love, love endives. Can't wait to try this. Thanks.

x
Kacie

By: forcedbloom

forcedbloom — Mon, 01 Dec 2014 05:40:56 +0000

Molly, the past two posts have brought me to tears and comments. I lost my dad in December 1993–also a third of my life ago. He too lived large and was irresponsible with his gut (and in so many other ways). How you poignantly mix a recipe for endive, musings on Matthew McConaughey, nursing a bug, and the tender remembrance of your father's passing, is a testament to your beautiful and skilled writing. Thank you for nudging my own tender memories.

By: Ellie

Ellie — Mon, 01 Dec 2014 01:42:54 +0000

Literally two hours ago I said to my husband, “It's been a third of my life since my father died,” and then I went to your blog and read the exact words I'd just said. Like your father, mine was irresponsible in the 80s and 90s– cheese, meat, bread, butter, pate. He would never have eaten endive, though, and he did die of a heart attack– a fact that would have annoyed him had he realized it, since he was devoutly anti-wholesome-eating-scolds (he didn't mind wholesome eating per se but it was not for him). He was a Seattleite since 1969, born in Berkeley in 1940, so wholesome-eating types were all around him. I like your blog in general but have never commented– I just wanted to say this resonated with me. I love how you describe your dad, irresponsible and full of joie de vivre with his gut– that was my dad and I adored him. I miss him still. Thank you for bringing both of them alive for a moment.