Of chard and cappuccino

By popular demand, last night I carefully documented the process of chopping and cooking the rainbow chard I received this week. “But PastaQueen,” you might say. “Those don’t look like your hands.” And I would say, “You think I don’t know the back of my hands like the back of my hand?” But I would also agree that, yes, those are not my hands. After feeling somewhat intimidated by staring at the chard on the bottom shelf of my fridge for several days, I decided to hand this project off to an expert, namely my mother.

As my mother commented last night, she has greatly neglected my culinary education. She grew up in a small town in southern Indiana where they had a vegetable garden in the back yard. Eventually her parents bought their own farm and the vegetable patch grew to be larger than the house. Because of this, she came to be very experienced in the art of washing and properly chopping vegetables, not to mention canning, peeling, and other lost art forms. So [...]

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