
I'm not one to get manicures. I don't even wear gloves when washing dishes to keep my hands from drying out (do you?). But still, some days I just can't face getting my hands dirty. Like on days when I have to make meatballs. Here's how it plays out: I look at the bowl of deftly seasoned meat. The meat looks back at me. I blink a few times. Eventually, after a big sigh, I roll up my sleeves, dunk my hands into the cold, clammy mixture and get to work. Then I remember I forgot to … [Read more...]


























