Recipe: Creamy rotisserie chicken soup

When my son shared with me that cream-based soups were his favorite kind, I thought to myself, I guess I can always learn. All of the soups I’ve made in the past are chicken or beef broth-based and cooking with milk has always left me apprehensive.

I decided the best approach would be to treat the soup as broth-based to start, then add the cream near the end.

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Why do I garden?

Why do I garden?

That’s one of the questions people will ask when my passion for growing eventually — okay, instantly — finds its way into conversation.

Sometimes the query lives in the raised eyebrow of a new acquaintance. My 40-something information technology professional countenance doesn’t often jibe with the societal picture of typical gardener.

Yet, I am a gardener — a gardener to whom the question “why do I garden?” seems almost rhetorical. The question is akin to asking myself, “Why do I breathe?” Read More

Get smart, eat well, feel better … together

I love Brussels sprouts. As a kid, I loved Brussels sprouts, even though they were the frozen variety drenched in a butter sauce.  This past fall, I cooked and tasted fresh Brussels sprouts for the first time and now understand their true brilliance as a culinary delight. The frozen ones of my childhood taste like cardboard cabbages by comparison.

After all these years, why did I decide to buy fresh from the produce aisle? Because I was tired of feeling terrible all the time. In this my 41st year, I’d hit the dreaded wall. I could no longer put whatever I wanted into my body and get away with it.

A few days before Thanksgiving, our bathroom scale read 193 pounds…while I was standing on it. I was a full 60 pounds heavier than the day I graduated high school and 30 pounds above my college graduation weight. Read More

Ignoring the tough guy

On October 4, nearly three weeks ago, I noticed an echo in my left ear. Middle to high-frequency sounds seemed to be arriving a millisecond or so late in my left ear, in normal time to the right. My brain, not used to such a delay, interpreted it as an echo. Read More

Don’t hate me because I’m edible

I realize it’s sacrilege in certain parts of the gardening community, but I’ve never been much of a food gardener. It seems that in recent years, when you identify yourself as a gardener, other gardeners immediately want to know what heirloom tomatoes you’re starting from seed this year. The grow-your-own movement has taken a life of its own as the recession coincides with a general distrust of the increasingly corporate control of the food system.

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