It’s high time I really started blogging and baking again on a regular basis, right?

Well…at least this weekend. On Friday, I’m off to Alaska…so the next two weekends are out unless I stumble upon some blog-worthy food topics way up north. (Pretty much everything in Fairbanks – from the Girl Scouts to Denny’s – proudly proclaims that it is the “farthest north.” One of my favorite Fairbanks landmarks is actually the sign in front of the restaurant that says, “Farthest North Denny’s in the World.”) But I know the Internet can be a little screwy up there (and the whole point of going up there is to spend time outdoors anyway), so my blog may suffer once again. And then when I get back, who knows…

But, until then…it just so happens that I inherited the rest of those Vidalia onions, so I decided to make another onion pie. This time, however, I used a recipe from Epicurious rather than the Vidalia onion website. The trouble with finding good recipes for these onions is that most of them are not really conducive to transport or feeding a crowd. So my colleagues will have no choice but to suffer through another onion pie.

I am getting better with these onions though. I made empanadas last week and learned that a smaller knife works better with sweet Vidalias because they’re so squatty.

My one beef with cracker crusts is that the recipe always seems to call for X cups of crushed crackers – it would be so much easier if it said Y crackers or Z packages…because I really end up just marching to the beat of my own drum anyway and using however many crackers seems would be appropriate rather than actually going to the trouble of crushing crumbs and measuring them.

The recipe also called for paprika…which made me a little nostalgic since it’s not really something I ever use (it makes me think of deviled eggs…and I think I’ve already established my position on eggs…ironically though, I went to brunch today and there was a Tex-Mex omelet on the menu that really spoke to me…and it sounded like there was enough stuff in it to overshadow the egg…but when it arrived it was a really huge hunk of egg…so I just ate the insides and was perfectly happy). But back to being nostalgic about paprika: in the far reaches of my memory, I do believe paprika was one of the few spices my grandmother used. She never really thought of herself as much of a cook…but one of my fondest childhood food memories is of her spaghetti with elbow macaroni (no paprika in that though…but definitely in her garlic bread).

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