WFAEats

In Search Of Spices

Oct 23, 2015
Amy Rogers

It sounded like firecrackers, but it wasn’t: four or five rapid pops. Then it happened again. Pop, pop, pop, pop. It didn’t quite register.

The third time, everything stopped: the song-like prayers at the Western Wall, the hum of conversation from the cluster of pilgrims waiting to enter, the easy breathing of two friends who’d put away work for a few hours of touring. 

A Taste Of Pomegranates

Oct 16, 2015
Amy Rogers

Young, lean soldiers armed with machine guns cluster just inside the massive Jaffa Gate. A wooden cart full of pastries stands to the left, near a small fenced green where executions once took place. This is a busy entrance into Jerusalem's Old City, in Israel. 

A map on the wall at the visitors' center displays neat lines to mark the Jewish, Armenian, Christian, and Muslim quarters of the walled village. But on the narrow, cobbled streets there's nothing carved in stone. 

Amy Rogers / WFAEats

Shakshuka changed everything for this breakfast hater. For years I've insisted that "the most important meal of the day" was nothing more than a bland and boring chore.

This morning in Jerusalem, I sampled my first-ever, authentic Israeli breakfast. And that's where I found it: shakshuka, and it made me swoon.

Pumpkin Perfection: A Showstopper Recipe

Oct 7, 2015
Amanda Clark

Maybe you’re over the “pumpkin craze,” or perhaps it’s a flavor you crave as the temperatures drop and the leaves change color.

My dinner club has a different theme each month. Last month, we each blindly chose a color to be the prominent one in our dish. We even threw in curveballs like white and pink, but I got orange (!) and if there’s one orange ingredient that I associate with this time of year, it’s pumpkin. It’s a favorite of mine, and I quickly got to thinking about all the flavorful possibilities.

In Good Taste: Hot Topics At The Table

Sep 29, 2015
Dirck Hals, Amusing Party in the Garden, c. 1621 / Wikimedia Commons

Dear Etta Kate: Recently I was invited to a casual dinner at a neighbor's home. I was shocked at the dinner conversation. I was always taught there are certain topics never to be brought up at the table – such as sex, politics, and money. Has this changed? Are the rules different based on the formality of the occasion? Please help!

Tastelessly Titillated

Peach-less In Carolina

Sep 21, 2015
Amy Rogers / WFAEats

Unless you're a peach farmer, you may not have noticed that 2015 was a terrible year in the Carolinas. 

But that's what we discovered when we pulled up to Dori Sanders' place for our end-of-season expedition a few weeks ago. There were no peaches for sale at the Sanders' family farm stand in Filbert, S.C. The wooden plank shelves were all but empty. 

Up the hill, we could see the trees laden with rosy-gold fruit under a bright blue sky. What could explain such a scene?

Storey Publishing

Here’s a must-have book for all food lovers. The Food Activist Handbook by Ali Berlow is not a cookbook, but it’s guaranteed to satisfy another kind of appetite: our hunger to make a difference.

Some of the ideas will be familiar: Contribute to a food pantry, plant a school garden, join a food co-op.

Mecklenburg County Cooperative Extension Service/Family and Consumer Sciences

Are you sick of pickles? After a season slammed with cucumbers, your friends at WFAEats were ready to say goodbye to that summer staple.

Once again, Mecklenburg County Cooperative Extension Service came to the rescue with this fun and simple recipe for Garden Cucumber Chips – using nothing more than a home dehydrator and a handful of readily available spices.

1 and ½ large cucumbers, peeled and sliced thin (about 4 cups)

½ teaspoon of olive oil

½ teaspoon garlic powder

½ teaspoon dill weed

Courtesy Carolina Farm Trust

Are you savoring the farm to table movement? Love farmer’s markets? Think about this: While you are shopping and dining, North Carolina is losing more than 100,000 acres of farmland a year to development.

Tamra Wilson

I remember my first dish of homemade ice cream. I was five years old and my parents had been invited to a preacher’s house. Adults sat on webbed lawn chairs while the minister and others took turns cranking the metal handle attached to a wooden bucket. After an eternity, the canister was opened. Inside was the most wonderful soft vanilla ice cream I had ever tasted.

Growing up, I coveted our neighbors’ ice cream freezer. They had an electric model that would buzz and grind forever until we were invited over to partake of vanilla custard heaven.

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