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I’m the writer, photographer, and baker for this site. For years, Shauna referred to me as the Chef on this site. Where do I find the best locally raised, grass-fed lamb? One of our purest pleasures is sitting at the table with our kids, enjoying a meal we made together. Danny and I grin at each other over the table and eat more, laughing. And they’’d make my book into a movie, and I’’d never have to borrow books from the library again. I want to help everyone to finally recognize his or her own story. It’’s a story about slowing down and appreciating my life. Oh, and should you wish to reach us, drop us a line at [email protected] [email protected] from you, in emails, responses on Twitter and conversations on Facebook, is an enormous gift.Together, we create Here, we share stories of family, friends, and the food that gathered us around the table. We eat the best food we can find in the places we find ourselves. It’’s a story about eating local, eating organic, and eating in season. When we were in Italy for our honeymoon, we were both astonished to discover how easy it was for me to eat gluten-free. And in order to remain well there, sometimes I simply said senza glutine (without gluten). I wish that I could answer all the emails I receive. Nothing makes you more humble than making food that a toddler doesn’t want to eat. Sure, ‘I’ve eaten foie gras a few times, and I love truffles after being in Italy. This was three years of our joint effort, the two of us pouring our hearts and laughter into recipes you can make at home. It’s a cookbook for busy families who still love cooking. You can take this food to any party you attend and people will happily share it with you.

Rumour has it that the chef has a new love in his life, but won't reveal her identity.He'll come home with presents for kids and their hearts will melt for their daddy.Meanwhile in the real world I'm buried in laundry, punching my time card teaching first grade, and running this circus all on my own.We love to tell the stories of the creative people who move us: bakers, sculptors, cider makers, chefs, and photographers. It’’s a story about finding the self I never was, for the first 38 years of my life, and reveling in that self. It can’’t surprise anyone to know that the last chapter of this book is about meeting the Chef. All I had to say was “Io sono celiaco.” Waiters and chefs understood. I simply ate gluten-free and went onto other conversations around the table. I can’t respond because there is a growing mound of dishes in the sink that I should probably put in the dishwasher before midnight. And we share the insights we’ve gleaned about gluten-free baking after playing with flours for more than a decade. We love thinking and talking about food, cooking food, photographing food, and sharing food. We love artichokes dipped in good butter, roasted potatoes, a Dungeness crab feast with friends, any vegetable in season at the moment (well, maybe not lima beans),peanut butter and apples, ripe blackberries off the vine in August, anything with tahini, dark chocolate, homemade granola, kale salads (that’s more Shauna), a big pot of braised beans, fried eggs, and chicken stock in the refrigerator, ready to use. Food is a daily pleasure, mundane and urgent, instead of something to fetishize or brag about. Food doesn’’t have to be expensive to be spectacular. Our first cookbook: Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef: A Love Story in 100 Tempting Recipes. They pointed out the dishes I could eat, and then brought me plates of black-truffle risotto, or sizzling beefsteak, or a saucer of perfectly ripe heirloom tomatoes so vividly colored that I had to blink twice before looking at them.