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Fall at the Market in Paris

Abruptly, it’s fall. The weather turned brisk this week, and I’m starting to wonder which box my scarves and gloves are in? When I lived in San Francisco, where the weather is notoriously fickle, the joke was that the only way to tell what season it is, is to hit the market. True, not everybody is concerned with seasonality. I was recently asked during a…

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I’m Nuts For This Sausage

A friend of mine, another David L (who also worked at Chez Panisse with me and is now a chef in Switzerland) comes to visit me often, and it’s one of the few times I let someone else into my tiny kitchen. He’s a terrific cook, and perhaps the only person who is more picky about the way things should be in a kitchen than…

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