If you're like me and you grew up on homemade Japanese curry, you know all about the brick. A boxed, vacuum-packed tray of roux that's mixed into a simmering pot of meat and vegetables. As far as I knew, this pre-packaged mix was the only way to get down with homestyle curry.
A few years back, though, I gave up on the stuff. Turn over the box, check out the ingredients, and you'll see what I'm talking about. Because straight up? That $%#@ is nasty. Filler and chemicals. Make it from scratch instead!
Read MoreIt was the smell that defined my childhood. Actually, not just one smell but a perfect three-chord progression of smells that would unfold over the course of a Sunday afternoon. First, the ominous scent of charcoal briquettes lit by twisted coils of newspaper. Then the clean burn of said briquettes heating themselves to an ashen gray. Finally, the dizzying, hypnotic aroma of sugary, soy sauce-soaked meat hitting the flames. I’d cruise my plastic tricycle through the clouds of meat smoke, soaking it in through my pores.
Read MoreThis summer was the first season I've managed to grow and maintain a vegetable garden with any kind of success. Sure, there was plenty to deal with - an aphid infestation, a dozen or so ravenous hornworms, one-too-many moldy tomatoes - but it's been a deeply satisfying process. What's not to love about having regular access to super fresh, super delicious produce that I wouldn't otherwise buy? Take Japanese shishito peppers, for example.
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