Sicily draws admirers to its seas, sands and sites.
The fledgling travels light.
Bad news blasts from every vista.
The message made me blush.
Simple and simply delicious.
Poaching is a crime.
Deep thinkers debate good versus evil.
Locker-room talk gets down and dirty.
The student begins his studies with the life cycle, as expressed in the tadpole.
He’s not a fan of vegetables.
Basic shares much with basement: It’s the bedrock, the beginning, the building block.
Sheet pan, meet spotlight.
Remember Stone Soup? In the tale, a stranger wanders into town, hungry. Locals slam their doors. So the guy makes soup.
Cooking used to be a chore. Consider early man, who spent a good five hours running his prey to exhaustion, and then, panting over collapsed antelope, had to ponder Step Two.
Ficus is a shrub indigenous to the dorm room, waiting room and boyfriend bedroom. It's unavoidable. Get a boyfriend; endure a ficus.
Rice pilaf sings of hope, of heartbreak, of heedlessness.
It’s tough on the thesaurus, parenting a pack of antonyms.
The revolution demands: Rise up. And desks heed the call. Enough of sitting idle, standing still, holding steady at 29 1/2 inches above the carpeting. Now: They rise.
Bananas are berries. This dire news comes direct from the internet, at the far end of a night of berry-soaked revelry.
Our farmer girl leaves early and comes home dirty. She brings back the spare clump of radishes, the stray gourd, and bulging bags of mustard greens.
Ice is genius. The cube is genius. The ice cube is genius times two to the third. No doubt a large number. And yet, the ice enthusiast maintains aspirations.
"Adulting" can be pronounced two ways: dripping with sarcasm or bristling with scorn. After all, adult is best unadulterated. Either you can hoist a credit score, fix a flat and fold a fitted sheet, or you're not.
Remember Twin Peaks? Remember how the surreal murder mystery was populated with surreal characters: the woman who lugged a log, the dwarf dressed in red, the special agent who tape recorded every move and bite? Me neither.
Semifreddo means semi-frozen. In a good way.
Sous vide, in the grip of an online translator, comes out “under empty.”
Raw is a brilliant state for lettuce, for talent, for truth. Not so much for mushroom.
Flowers, though quiet, have a lot to say. For instance: I’m sorry. I like you. And, at prom: You’re mine.
The overnight sensation takes time. Consider farro.
Self-rising flour is scarce: bottom shelf, dim cupboard, cracked cookbook.