My most memorable meal occurred at a small restaurant in an old Italian neighborhood in Brooklyn. I can’t recall the name of the restaurant, but I can still conjure the taste of the one dish that to this day is the most unforgettable I’ve eaten.It was a side dish of broccoli rabe, bathed in olive oil with copious slivers of garlic tucked among the leaves. Yet the abundance of these two ingredients were no match for the spicy bitterness of this succulent green which I was experieincing for the first time. The taste was so bewitching I would gladly have made a meal of it, soaking up its juices with garlic rolls.What makes a meal memorable? Perhaps it’s the ingredients? The umami tang of fresh oysters suffused with a light vinaigrette, followed by a sip of mineral-rich red wine. Or perhaps it’s emotional? That moment when you’re working side by side in the kitchen and with a glance at his hands, realize you’re in love. In my experience, memorable meals can never be planned. They happen when serendipity exerts its special magic.But we can work to summon those moments by cooking often, with good ingredients, and a loving heart. Share my cooking adventures through a calendar year in the mountains. I hope to inspire you to cook with ingredients of the seasons and to invite friends and family not only to the dining table but also into the kitchen.
I was born in Fort Lauderdale, attended the University of Michigan on an athletic scholarship for swimming and then worked on Wall Street. I left the bright lights of the big city fifteen years ago and traveled the world. I now live in the mountains of Colorado, where I pursue my dream of writing novels.