Author: Erin James

Figgy Lamb Sirloins and Syrah

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” – John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America This Pulitzer and Nobel Prize winner had something right (other than the success of his 72 books and numerous awards)—the end of summer is bittersweet, both its coming and going should be reveled in to understand its full seasonal intention. As far as food consumption goes, in retrospective, it seems I have tried to take Steinbeck’s words in stride with the seasons. This summer has been abundant; we Northwesterners are lucky to still...

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Ladies Love Crab Cakes

And crab cakes love this lady. So much that they made a presence in four meals for four consecutive days until the four pounds of crab meat vanished. And this lady hates leftovers, like, with fervor. Often soggy, lackluster and overcooked when forced to re-heat, leftovers are usually a recipe for disaster. Culinary pun! I grew up spending my summers on the Hood Canal of Washington”s Olympic Peninsula (no, not the part of the peninsula where “Twilight” was filmed), in between two major shellfish harvesting towns of Hoodsport and Shelton. We would take our now antique Bayliner Cruiser out...

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Raw and Cold: Juicing for a Bridal Bod

I marry the love of my life in five days. As many have been here before, this sensational, romantic and thrilling time of our journey is also stress-induced, relationship-taxing and can cause loss of hair and growth of waist band due to chocolate intake. Fortunately, “bridal bootcamps” have been opening up in the Northwest from PureBarre to Pound Rockout Workout, kicking and sculpting the asses of anxious, sleepless brides in attempt to look the greatest they ever have on their big day and those timeless, ever-lasting photographs that their children will inevitably make fun of years later. The way...

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Morels in Cream Sauce Hearts Sauvignon Blanc

I’m a light sleeper. My fiancé snores in an unrequited slumber on a nocturnal basis, so when my phone rang the other night at 11:30 pm, I bolted at the sound of something new. Clearing the call, I texted my friend on the other end asking if there was an emergency because why else would it be necessary to call at this ungodly hour (I’m also an ornery sleeper). “I have morels for you,” she wrote back. Certainly worth the alarm—morel mushrooms bring me to my happy place. The earthy, stocking-hat resembling, fire-loving fungi wrap the flavors of my...

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Copper River Salmon and Pinot Noir

Some girls scream for ice cream, the Nordstrom half-yearly sale or the new Channing Tatum full-length shirtless feature film, but I get fired up for Copper River salmon time. Although I do prefer my salted caramel ice cream, 40 percent off designer pumps and my Tatums disrobed, Copper River salmon season is so short and precious, it needs to be celebrated, cashed in on and consumed.

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