
In case you aren't yet acquainted with Marcella Hazan's iconic 3-ingredient tomato sauce, it is that good. If you're already a convert, carry on supping on this incredibly rich, well-balanced sauce; if you aren't, please (please!) simmer up a batch tonight.


Sure, the tomatoes (at least the canned ones) aren't going anywhere, but just think, each day you wait is one more day without a drop of this velvety sauce passing your lips. Now I get it, if you're anything like me, you too fear the overhyped, perhaps feeling that anything mainstream must be passé, or that your overblown expectations will surely exceed reality. Either way, cast all doubts aside, this sauce is not only stupid simple to prepare (three ingredients: that's it), it'll blow any and all competition out of the water.

I've never been the biggest soda fan. Even as a child I was far more interested in sugar in solid form (I'm somewhat of a sour gummy candy fanatic) than Coke and the like. Nonetheless, I've always had a soft spot for fragrant cream soda. There's a certain ineffable something about it that manages to lure me in nearly every time I come across it — which is both sadly, and admittedly lucky for my waistline, not that often.

Sometimes I wonder why homemade pie crust has a reputation for being so difficult to make. I'm often surprised to discover friends who are otherwise proficient in the kitchen, yet continue to shy away from the process, and dismiss any recipe involving a homemade crust outright.
I'd wager that much of the problem is rooted in the excess of admonitions advising against potential missteps. Truth be told, it's actually a rather simple process, and has less to do with skill, but instead requires a certain (small) degree of patience. In a nutshell, if you can keep the butter cold, and resist overworking the dough (which really has more to do with doing less) it ought to be a relatively painless process.
While I make a number of things from scratch, I'm not above taking an occasional shortcut or two in the kitchen. My pantry is nearly always stocked with tetra packs of chicken stock, cans of beans, and boxes of gnocchi. I draw the line, however, when it comes to vegetable stock. Despite tasting a variety of brands, I've never found a can, box, or tub that tastes much better than insipid dirty dishwater. 

Have you tried our recipe for 
I'm a bit of a cocktail fanatic, which means that I place almost as much weight on the strength of a restaurant's bar list as its menu when making dining-out decisions. That said, the fancy creations I crave often come with an equally precious price point, so I'm always looking for a way to replicate my favorite boozy treats at home. For this reason, I prefer keeping the basic accoutrements on hand for concocting a simple cocktail when a craving hits.
I turn to simple syrups to flavor and sweeten cocktails, and when I'm looking for a particularly punchy ginger kick, I often pull out a bottle of my homemade ginger simple syrup. And while ginger simple syrup's most obvious application is in the cocktails I crave, I've managed to find a whole host of secondary uses.
Time for 





