Serious Eats - seriouseats.com

Mmmm. I'm remembering these little potato croquettes. I don't remember what they were called, but I totally remember the taste.

Peach cobbler. It doesn't matter how often I make it - it's gone in a matter of minutes.

Peaches, pears - any fruit. It tastes so much sweeter than the commercial cans.

Sitting in the warm earth of my Grandfather's garden, while he used his pocketknife to slice us pieces of whatever he had just harvested.

As an eager young cook of 12 I was thrilled when my mother returned to work, giving me free reign in the kitchen every afternoon. Most of my meals were edible, some even tasty. I decided I was ready to attempt bread rolls. The recipe I found didn’t look too hard, but I severely underestimated the time dough needs to rise. The dough was still flat and unresponsive when it should have been going into the oven. Not wanting to hear the ridicule from three older brothers I decided to bury the evidence. The only unfrozen ground at that time of winter was near the back fence. I shoveled as big a hole as I could manage, covered it with dirt and twigs and told no one of my failure. A week later the weather turned very warm and nature awoke the dormant yeast. I returned home to see my brothers and father, armed with shovels and the shotgun, slowly advancing on the alien mound rising eerily by the fence. I was mortified, but learned a couple life lessons that day.

Marcella Hazan uses both Bechamel and Bolognese meat sauce in her baked green lasagne recipe - you might have gotten it from her. I've never tried it,it always sounded like too much extra work, but now I might have to experiment.

I say fudgy, light frosting and nuts in the frosting.

'High Altitude Baking' by the Colorado State University Cooperative Extension is a great little cookbook. The extension is also a great place to call or email with specific problems. Also - the local flour is a bit heartier than in other places, so your wife might like to experiment with different brands.

My earliest food memory is being in my Grandfather's garden as a toddler - 'helping' him. He took his pocket knife out and peeled a turnip, sharing slices. i still think food tastes the best fresh from the soil.

How funny! I've enjoyed hearing everyone's horror stories, and they made me remember eating at my favorite Aunt's house. She made bad Italian and fried her steak like Calichef's Gran.. But the worst dish was her attempt at tacos (still a rarity in the 50's). She would fry corn tortillas in oil until soggy, then smear them with canned tomato paste - add browned (or greyed) hamburger, shredded velveeta and lettuce. Yum.

I got food poisoning from the dorm kitchen my first year at school. The only thing worse than being that sick, is being that sick with 500 other people. Just the sound of a toilet flushing down the hall would set off another wave. It was nearly as bad as the barfarama in the movie 'Stand By Me'.