a kale, sausage, and feta frittata

I’m off to the south of France where I’m going to spend a couple of weeks locked up in an old barn. Writing.

On the eve of my departure – with approximately eleven-hundred-and-seventy-nine thousand things to do before I go – including such details as beginning and finishing packing, finding my travel documents, printing out my boarding passes, finding my train tickets to Montreal, charging all my electronics, paying bills, making food for the ones I am leaving behind, calling my mum, and making all of the last-minute arrangements – it seems like a perfect  time to write a blog post. Continue reading “a kale, sausage, and feta frittata”

favourite. biscuits. ever.

Lately I’ve been travelling down memory lane. In a recent post, I was remembering my father and my Irish Uncle George.  This time around it’s my mother-in-law. She was a saint. A beautiful, intelligent, hard-working, salt-of-the-earth, red-headed, spirited farm wife who raised a large family with very little money but a surprising amount of love and kindness and patience.

She was also one of the very best cooks I’ve ever known (except for her soup – which we called dish-water soup behind her back).   Continue reading “favourite. biscuits. ever.”