What does Yummy mean to me? Yummy is a reason to live. It’s the gleeful exclamation of a child experiencing their first bite of chocolate. It’s the clinking of glasses in a bustling city restaurant. It’s the smack of your lips when slicing into a perfectly cooked steak. It is universal happiness.
I’ve spent the last decade in the kitchen hosting deliciously fun team building events, private parties and cooking classes with my company Parties That Cook. I’ve made it my life’s mission to educate and entertain people by sharing a life-long passion for food and cooking. My hands-on culinary lessons build camaraderie among corporate teams, while helping individuals gain confidence in the kitchen (and in life!). It has been an extremely rewarding adventure filled with many yummy moments.
As executive chef, I love conjuring up seasonal menus and recipes. I’ll be sharing some of these recipes with you in future Yummy letters. I get my recipe inspirations from trying new restaurants, reading cookbooks, and paging through magazines. I am always experimenting with new cooking techniques and cuisines from around the world.
Teaching others comes naturally to me, and so I am able distill complex culinary techniques and create shortcuts that help my students become better cooks. In fact, I launched my culinary career as a teacher for cooking schools including Sur La Table, Ramekins, Draeger’s and Tante Marie's Cooking School, where I earned my culinary degree. I’ve also worked in the professional kitchens of Insalata’s and Kokkari restaurants, and done food styling and sous-chef work for celebrity chefs Jacques Pepin and Joanne Weir.
I want everyone to know that they too can create their own world of yummy. I was once trapped in the corporate grind analyzing spreadsheets in the marketing department of Williams-Sonoma. I followed my dream to become a chef and built a successful business that shares my passion and expertise in cooking. I encourage you to make your everyday life as yummy as possible, too. Treat yourself to a new restaurant, buy a vegetable you’ve never cooked before, experiment with an exotic spice, or better yet, try one of my recipes!
This recipe is an excellent first course for a late spring dinner party or a great item for a spring brunch. It is a simple composition of crisp asparagus spears delicately tied together with salty prosciutto and enriched with a creamy Fontina cheese. You can find all of the ingredients at your local farmers’ market. It is truly a taste of the season and will wow your guests!
Asparagus Bundles with Fontina and Prosciutto
(serves 8)
2
pounds fresh asparagus
2
tablespoons butter, melted
1
tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1
teaspoon lemon juice
3/4
teaspoon kosher salt
1/8
teaspoon pepper, freshly ground
1
cup (about 6 ounces) fontina cheese, grated
8
slices (about 1/4 pound) prosciutto
Trim tough ends off the asparagus (about 1½ inches from the bottom of the stalk). Transfer the asparagus to a medium bowl and add the melted butter, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Toss to coat thoroughly. Transfer to a sheet pan, and spread the asparagus evenly in one layer. Roast in a preheated 450-degree oven until tender, about 10 minutes, stirring once with tongs to ensure even cooking. Remove from the oven and let cool slightly. Turn the oven to broil.
Lay a slice of prosciutto horizontally on a work surface. Put 4 stalks of asparagus, vertically on top. Across the equator of the stalk, sprinkle 2 tablespoons of fontina. Wrap the prosciutto around the fontina. (The spears should peek out the top, and the base of the stalks out the bottom.) Brush the prosciutto with olive oil. Place bundles on a sheet pan.
A few minutes before ready to serve, transfer the sheet pan to the broiler and broil until the asparagus sizzles and the cheese melts, about 3–5 minutes. Remove from oven and serve immediately.
In Newark, where I grew up, my mother prepared a few recipes that she learned from her Italian, Polish and Jewish friends, but she cooked American mostly and her native French Canadian occasionally. My dad contributed some Irish tastes to our table.
I brought my mother to San Francisco after she had a stroke, and we lived in the Richmond District. Eventually, she attended Adult Day Care at Mt. Zion Hospital. Around that time, she began making matzo kugel. I suspect she learned it from one of her Jewish buddies at day care.
She bloomed at day care — she learned copper enameling (jewelry) and wrote poetry. I used to joke that she had become a professional old person, and I might add, a helluva kugel maker. Since I have her handwritten recipe, I get a twinge when I make this recipe.
My Mother's Yummy Matzo Kugel
4
whole matzos, broken into pieces
2
eggs beaten
1/2
cup sugar
1
apple, peeled and sliced
1
teaspoon salt
1/2
cup raisins
3
tablespoons butter, melted
1/2
teaspoon lemon rind
Butter for greasing pan
1/2
teaspoon cinnamon
Soak matzos in water until soft. Drain. Place broken matzos, eggs, sugar, apple, salt, raisins, butter, and lemon rind in a large bowl.
Mix well. Pour in greased 9 x 9-inch square pan. Sprinkle cinnamon on top.
Bake in preheated 350-degree oven for 45 minutes.
- GraceAnn
Home Recipes from Susan Dyer Reynolds
Most kids get peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a snack; I got aglio e olio, or “garlic and olive oil” pasta. My Sicilian grandfather made it for me often during those glorious summers in Rhode Island, and my mom made it for me at home in the Silicon Valley after a long softball practice or a painful breakup.
Neither of them ever wrote anything down, and I never thought much about the recipe … it’s just a few ingredients, what could go wrong? But when I started making it myself, I discovered that, like many classic Italian dishes, it is deceptively simple.
The key to aglio e olio: attaining perfect balance between the olive oil, garlic, parsley, and pepper flakes. The secret to aglio e olio: making it many, many times. This is my go-to comfort dish, and I think I finally have the ratio right.
pound dry pasta (preferably spaghettini or angel hair)
1/2
cup extra-virgin olive oil
1
tablespoon fresh garlic, finely chopped
1
tablespoon italian (flat-leaf) parsley, finely chopped
1/4
teaspoon red pepper flakes
Pecorino cheese, freshly grated (you may substitute Parmesan)
Salt to taste
Cook pasta al dente (so there is just a bit of resistance when you bite it).
Put the olive oil and the garlic in a large skillet over a medium heat. When the garlic begins to turn golden, add the parsley, red pepper flakes, and salt. Stir well and remove from heat.
When the pasta is cooked, return the skillet to a low heat.
Drain the pasta, leaving about a tablespoon of water in the pot, and add to the skillet. Toss until the pasta is well coated with sauce.
Bon Appetit Y’all: Recipes and Stories from Three Generations of Southern Cooking
By Virginia Willis
Ten Speed Press
ISBN: 978-1-58008-853-4
$32.50
This is Willis’s, a fourth generation southerner and French-trained cook, passionate homage to her culinary roots.
She advises to use the best ingredients. Think pork chops with dried plums and fried pork chops with pan gravy.
There is country food from France and the United States in one book by a professional cook and good stories to go with the recipes.
Here is a unique recipe for collard greens with smoky flavors.
Smoky Collard Greens
2
tablespoons canola oil
1
onion, preferably Vidalia, chopped
1
clove garlic, finely chopped
1
medium bunch collard greens, cleaned and cut into chiffonade
4
cups water
1
tablespoon smoked salt
2
teaspoon apple cider vinegar
Freshly groud black pepper
Heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and saute until soft and translucent, 3–5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, 45–60 seconds. Add the greens, water, smoked salt, and vinegar. Season with pepper.
Increase then heat to medium-high and bring to a boil. Decrease the heat to medium-low, cover, and cook until the greens are tender 20–25 minutes.
Taste and adjust seasoning with smoked salt and pepper. Serve immediately.
Volume 1 Issue 14 
In Newark, where I grew up, my mother prepared a few recipes that she learned from her Italian, Polish and Jewish friends, but she cooked American mostly and her native French Canadian occasionally. My dad contributed some Irish tastes to our table.
Most kids get peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a snack; I got aglio e olio, or “garlic and olive oil” pasta. My Sicilian grandfather made it for me often during those glorious summers in Rhode Island, and my mom made it for me at home in the Silicon Valley after a long softball practice or a painful breakup.
Bon Appetit Y’all: Recipes and Stories from Three Generations of Southern Cooking
