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HIGH ON THE HOG, JOWL LEVEL IF WE’RE BEING PRECISE

So The Month of Cooking Dangerously could now be more accurately called The Season of Cooking Irritably. My fucker of a kitchen still isn’t done. Granted, to the casual observer it is done. Functionally it’s done. But the last few nagging details have lingered on and on like a stale fart in the place where I should be ...

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A SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION

So I haven’t posted in awhile… there’s been a bit going on. First and foremost my new son was born, Augustus Clyde. And while he is already a vigorous and robust, if a little gassy boy, he’s not into waiting patiently while I screw around in the kitchen. Also, he doesn’t quite have the concept of day and night ...