Since Anonymous was out town this week, even Bunny got a break and I was glad because he seems to just wear her out with so much dining. She needs three or four of herself just to keep up with him and his insatiable appetite.

Real talk: I can't cook, and I'm generally okay with that. Being a few years past my college years (never mind how many, a lady never tells), I should be past the phase in which Chef Boyardee is in charge of preparing most of my at home meals.

High-quality Syrah is wonderfully accessible, even in its youth. As Steve Heimoff, West Coast Editor for Wine Enthusiast, recently explained, "I would describe a good Syrah as having the weight of Cabernet Sauvignon, but a little softer, and while...

It is striking me funny that in a column about food memories, I usually start out not remembering the first time I experienced a specific food, or technique. These food memories develop over time, stories adding up layer upon layer, until the current product is like a tarte or cake: a wonderful melange of flavors and textures.

Birmingham's identity is mired in a muck of present and historical contradictions. Once one of the most racially segregated cities in the U.S., Birmingham was also the home for some of the key watershed moments of non-violent protest and reform.

food by Franklin Biggs My memories are punctuated by many flavors and scents. The full flavored aroma of tomato, the richness of browned onion, smoky grill marks on slices of eggplant and squ

White beans are very high on my list of comfort foods, especially when the temperature drops. So when the forecast comes out for a cold snap, and the grocery stores have run on bread, milk, beer and wine; I find my comfort in white beans.

This summer Ronnie and Lora Trice opened LoLo’s, nicknamed for the better half, near where 3rd and 5th Avenues South diverge. It is a fringe transitional neighborhood with a distinct blue collar feel between its scrap yards and railroad crossings, just verging on the gentrifying influences from Forest Park and Crestwood.

It seems I am involved in planning several events that celebrate the end of this year’s growing season. A funny name, harvest dinner, as truly the harvest begins early in the year, and in many creative farming operations the harvest never really ends.