WFAEats

Last week I was joking with a friend about how misleading my typical grocery store cartload looks. “There’s absolutely no produce,” I said, “but it’s because we buy all our vegetables at the farmers market.”

It wasn’t until today, as I pondered my most recent grocery list, that I realized how little we really buy there anymore. Every week or two I have to pick up dog food, milk and orange juice. More often than not I add some deli meat and cheese slices. And the rest is pure Guilty Secret food: Coke, potato chips, bologna.

I requested items with shelf life. Among all the goodies that my friend Carrie sent me from several states over was an apocalypse-proof carton of rosemary potato chowder. I intended to eat it last night, but then I thought, "You know what would be great? Wait and get some little gold potatoes at the store and it will last longer."

Making a tortilla isn’t easy.

I learned this on a recent Thursday night among women from First Presbyterian Church in Newton, NC. We were students of master tortilla-maker Haydee Rodas, who was visiting from our sister church, Iglesia el Redentor, in Guatemala.

I know; tortilla-making sounds so simple. A large bowl of flour mixed ever so right with water, salt, baking powder and shortening. Roll them out, no wait! We watched as Haydee shaped them completely by hand. Pat, pat, turn, pat.

My friend Salem was sipping a Champagne cocktail outside an Asheville bistro when the ladies at the next table stopped their conversation to ask about the elegant looking drink.

She told them about the fizzy blend of sweetness with a tangy hint of bitters. They were so intrigued they immediately ordered three: two for themselves and one more for her.

That’s one of the delights of the Champagne cocktail – it’s convivial.

It’s crunch time. If your holiday list is getting longer as the days grow shorter, here’s a baker’s dozen of suggestions for tasteful gifts you can give with just a few clicks of your mouse. Even better, they’re all local.

“Gift food is rarely any sort of a gift, and sometimes barely qualifies as food,” a smug food writer once proclaimed, both on the radio and in print.

Central Illinois, where I grew up, is the land of cold, windy evenings that begin in October each year.

The Fall Meal -- consisting of sausage, potatoes, sauerkraut, fried apples and cheddar cheese – was a tradition at our house. The dish was a perfect mix of sweet and savory, crisp and creamy, hearty enough to stave off those cold, windy evenings.

The woman muttered, “I can’t, I can’t,” as she backed away from the tasting counter at Trader Joe’s last week. Such is the loathing some people harbor toward Brussels sprouts.

The store was serving up samples of sprouts cooked with chèvre and cranberries. But the mild cheese and tangy fruit did nothing to reduce that poor woman’s revulsion. It was justified if she grew up having to eat boiled and mushy, stinky Brussels spouts.

As the holiday season approaches, our etiquette expert is standing by, ready to answer your questions pertaining to food and how to enjoy it with others. Today Etta Kate counsels a guest who harbors leftover feelings of resentment from last Thanksgiving.

Dear Etta Kate, I presented my hosts with a very good bottle of wine last Thanksgiving, but they did not serve it. They never sent me a thank-you note for it. This year I’m invited again, but I still feel miffed and may not even attend. I'm not being too sensitive, am I?

Autumn in the South is a time of extremes: chilly nights, sweltering days, and azaleas abloom for the second time in a year.

It also means that until five minutes ago, I still had tomatoes and basil growing like it was July.

Smart gardeners weeks ago pulled up those spindly stalks, processed their pesto, and moved on to planting winter greens. But I just didn’t have the heart – my little plants were working so hard! – or the time to do it. And as a result, we went a full six months of the stuff.