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After a week in San Francisco, my husband met my flight, and as we headed out to the freeway asked if I'd like to stop somewhere along the way for a bite to eat.
At a time of year when all things roasted sounds particularly inviting, we're at our most motivated level for turning out a delectable, juicy, golden-roasted chicken.
The colorful and dramatic winter squash could have their own show, with a cast of characters as varied and vivid as any Disney fantasy-styled production.
Finally, apple season has arrived, and if there's anything we know about Oregon, it's that apples thrive here.
As the days of early autumn become shorter and the Northwest nights cooler, those once-prolific plots of tomato vines, pickling cukes and pepper plants aren't what they used to be.
Until someone invents year-round summer in Oregon, the time to enjoy local sun-ripened tomatoes is now.
It occurred to me recently that Pacific albacore doesn't get the respect it deserves. Not in the "sushi-grade-yellow-fin-tuna" sort of way.
Noontime, somewhere along the Lostine River, about five miles into the Wallowas of northeast Oregon.
Like a child sprouting from infancy to gangly adolescence, the first phase of a tomato plant's life seems to zoom by at breakneck speed.
One summer, my folks headed over to Walla Walla for a few days. They were culinarily savvy enough to know about the region's super-sweet onion, the Walla Walla sweet.
My last semester of college-level inorganic chemistry ended with a bang. I blew up the lab.
There are an impressive number of front-yard vegetable gardens sprouting up around my neighborhood this summer. Nightly walks have turned into casual scouting expeditions.
Eons and eons before there were canning kettles and jars, there was ice. Very large ice, which came in the form of glaciers.
My sweetie had just taken a bite from one of my precious homemade biscuits, and I leaned in for his appraisal.
This time of year, when young onions are bursting up out of the ground, I'm often asked, "What's the difference between a green onion and a scallion?"
When my husband and I planned the rehearsal dinner for our son and his fiancé many years ago, I was firm about wanting to do all the cooking. It was for 87 guests, but I was a supreme optimist.
We're a lucky lot here in the Pacific Northwest.
One of the most eagerly awaited events of the holiday season takes place this weekend, when the...