Columns

I often try to categorize my cooking style. At first I think about my love for Middle Eastern food and decide that must be my style, but then I remember my love for seafood, which doesn't exactly fit. So I shift to calling my style Mediterranean, but then I think about how much I enjoy cooking venison and beef, and they don't belong in that category. I could say my style reflects my Italian and Chinese heritage, but then I look at my pastry work and realize that doesn't fit neatly into those boxes.

I remember coming home from school in September and being greeted by the smell of whatever my mother was canning — tomatoes, pickles, relishes and more. Every vegetable from the garden was being preserved. As a result of living through the Great Depression, my mother never wasted anything. Anything not canned was frozen.

Do you remember long, slow summer days that meandered and stretched on a gentle, endless path? Do you remember making your own fun and recruiting others to join?

It doesn't matter whether it's stamps, street rods, guns, fishing rods, guitars, tools, widgets or whatever. If a man collects something he loves and appreciates, it's likely that, at several points in his collector journey, he'll be challenged by his loving and concerned spouse.

The summer season has come to an end and all the summer memories have been made, which can only mean one thing: Back-to-school season has begun! Please be sure to leave your house with plenty of time to get to school or work, or to run your errands in town. Remember that at almost every town road, there could be one to 10 children waiting for the bus.

When I was a child, my grandfather kept his heavy Webster's Third New International Dictionary on a midcentury oak side table by his desk. Nothing else was on that table, although underneath was a little drawer with a large knob in which he kept an old tobacco pipe or two that he no longer smoked.

I am walking my new golden retriever puppy, Teddy, on Cundy's Harbor Road. It is Teddy's first walk, and as he bounds along, I struggle not to get bound up by his leash.

August can be a lot of things to a lot of people. For some, it's the last hurrah of summer, with final trips to the beach and lingering sunsets.

Journalism has changed markedly in my 73 years. In the past you could read many newspapers and be reasonably comfortable that the editors presented the facts without a strong bias in their reporting. Most of us relied upon the newspaper, along with trusted news anchors, to learn what was going on around the world. Sadly, that seems like ancient history, except for this newspaper.

It's wedding season! Tents are up on lawns, caterers are hustling to plan the perfect farm-to-table feasts, and brides and their maids are configuring outfits down to the smallest detail.