I’ve never seen corn starch included in a corn muffin recipe. Some recipes call for corn flour, but not starch. Wonder what effect that has on the final result.

Everything’s jake. I sent the email, Dad’s all good. He’s a good sport about my “nervous nellies”, knows I’m always there if he needs me.

I’ll send Dad an email, outlining the things to keep an eye out for, like the”Windows is ready to update” or “Update and Shut Down” alerts. He knows to call me if anything odd happens, I just want to give him a heads up that this is coming. Thank you.

I’ve read about Quick Assist, a great tool. I’m on a Mac, so TeamViewer is my lifeline. Dad always sounds so happy to “see me” when I log in.

I use something from each of your lists nearly every time I cook, and I realized you’ve made the perfect “starter kitchen” list.

As my Dad’s tech support, I could use some advice. Dad is 92, I help him remotely with TeamViewer. I use a Mac, but I have a basic knowledge of Windows. This kind of update terrifies me. I live 250 miles away, Dad doesn’t have anyone else to help him, especially now.

My generations old sausage ball recipe uses Jimmy Dean Pork Sausage, the 12 oz. chub. It’s my go to old-school sausage, perfect for this recipe and for making sausage gravy. I’ve never been able to duplicate that flavor.

I have a credit from Airbnb for my canceled trip to Philly. I’m thinking of using it for a trip to Bodega Bay or Carmel for my birthday in October. I also have credits from United and American, I hope to use those next year.

Fruit crisp is my favorite. I love the topping. If you make a big batch of the crisp topping, spread it on a tray and freeze it. Keep it in a bag in the freezer. That way, any fruit you have is dessert.

Most poppers of that vintage that ended up in the basement due to the missing cup for the top of the popper, which was used to measure the corn and to melt butter. I’ll bet a larger metal measuring cup would make an excellent substitute.

I really love stories like this, combining a beloved food with its history, both public and private. This story is beautifully written, particularly the “recipe.” “Molecular choreography”? “Maillard tango”? If they had taught chemistry (or home economics for that matter) like this in high school, I would have paid…

Well done, you. A reasonable roller coaster given the situation. Your list has given me a yardstick to measure my own, I’m doing pretty well, and I am working on adding a bit more exercise to my in-between-meals plan.

Follow-up question-Could one make this cheesecake without a crust? Maybe line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper to prevent sticking? I understand the heresy of a crust-less cheesecake, just as a crust-less quiche is basically a frittata, I’m just curious.

This article just brought back the most wonderful memory. When I was young, we had an electric ice crusher, part of the well-stocked liquor cabinet accessories my parents always had on hand. I never liked the taste of alcohol, the mixers were the best part.

An inspired idea for an article. People and events don’t happen in a vacuum, they are part of a chain. History connects us to our past and offers up avenues of further investigation. I am familiar with Aldus Manutius, James Gordon Bennett and the Lumiere Brothers, now I have some new people to research.

Thank you for posting this. I feel the same way. Maybe it is due to the best advice I ever had about dealing with anxiety: Control what you can, let the rest go. I don’t worry about someone else in the same aisle, I smile behind my mask, say “may I pass you real fast” and move on. A few people have gone up the down…

That’s nothing. Try the Reliant Robin Space Shuttle they tried to build on Top Gear. Now that’s genius.

I started experimenting with ways to keep veggies fresh a long time ago. I have a small fridge, with only one large crisper drawer.

All my life, a “melt” has been open faced: bread, filling, cheese, broil. The crab melt at the Seal Rock Inn is a triumphant example.

My first memory of polenta: My parents went on a trip for their anniversary. Mrs. Riccio (I never called her anything else, later I learned her first name was Ursula) took care of us. A formidable woman from Alsace-Lorraine, her gray hair in bun, equal parts discipline and love. She made polenta. Instead of serving it…