Serious Eats - seriouseats.com

When I was pregnant and queasy, I craved plain baked potato, nothing but a bit of salt on it. Its dry starchiness seemed to neutralize whatever was out of whack in my stomach. It still does the trick when I'm feeling out of sorts.

Dried bread cubes, celery, onion, turkey giblets, broth - can't remember all the ingredients, but with our stuffing, the method is key: Not only is it always cooked outside the turkey in a big metal roasting pan, but for maximum crunchy bits, the whole thing is basted, stirred, tossed and turned periodically to expose plenty of new surface areas to crisp up. It's addictive.

I'd say it's worth it. The setting is beautiful, with footpaths on rolling hills leading down to a pond - it's always been popular with locals as a nice place for walking, well before Blue Hill started there. I've only actually been to the cafe once, after a hike, and then just for coffee, so I can't vouch for the food. But it looked very tempting.

He's not on Food Network, and I'm not a guy, but I've always had a thing for Anthony Bourdain. Talk about bad boys!

I've had lentils sprout in my soup too - the first time it scared me and I nearly tossed the whole batch. Oddly, I make a lentil-and-mushroom curry a lot more often than I do soup, and I can't remember it ever happening with that. Maybe something in the curry inhibits it, because I use the same type of lentil for both.

Wishing you a favorable test result - Good luck!

@SavtaShayna, good one, LOL.

I have a French press but rarely use it anymore - too messy to clean up, plus I like dark-roast espresso - Medaglia d'Oro or Café Bustelo - which is ground too fine for that method. Also, a Bodum is a fragile thing; I already broke one and had to replace it. Now I improvise: two scoops of grounds go directly into a 2-cup Pyrex measuring cup; add 1.5 cups of boiling water and stir; four minutes later stir again and pour through a Melita filter. Would love to grind my own, but I suspect the noise would be unwelcome at 5:00 a.m. when I'm the only one up.

Mine happened with sushi too. It was a piece of translucent white fish and I could see through it a greyish spot about the size of a tic-tac. When I lifted the fish from the rice, I saw a fly had been sandwiched in between. Can't remember whether it was dead or alive, but one thing it wasn't: anywhere near my mouth. Whew, that was close.

Hi, mother91 here – aka Bonnie. My screen name is a password I had to come up with quickly one morning at work, on the day after Mother's Day. It represents the year I became a mother, not my age (56) or number of offspring (1).

I'm a native New Yorker, now living in Westchester. Jewish mother, Italian father - we celebrated all the holidays (the family feast part, not the praying part). From brisket to bresaola, from kugel to cacciatore (not at the same meal). In school I had an aptitude for languages, so I majored in French and Italian; did my junior year in Italy and one at the Nouvelle Sorbonne in Paris. Would love a do-over on that part of my life, now that I’m older and have a lick of sense. Best food memory from Italy: spaghetti with garlic and olive oil. I had never tasted anything so delicious, and to think that this was at the university cafeteria…

I am lucky enough to work for an international company; I’ve traveled quite a bit in Europe, and had many a special meal with colleagues on the company dime. This has completely spoiled me for the type of restaurants I can actually afford, so I cook a lot at home.

Thank you, winternutt, for starting this thread. Thank you Ed, for starting SE. You’ve got a great group of friends here.

The vending machine in my college dorm back in the 70s normally charged 15 cents for an ice cream sandwich or pop. One night we discovered that if you put in two dimes, you'd get three nickels back as change. That was a major factor in the packing on of my Freshman Fifteen.

@lemonfair, my sister did have the rude shock of cracking several eggs directly into the rest of her ingredients, and the last one was bad and ruined the entire whatever-it-was that she was making. To add insult to injury, it was a holiday morning and all the stores were closed, so she couldn't even start over. After hearing that, I'm meticulous about using the separate-bowl method. Guilty until proven innocent, I say.

Ice cream.