Yesterday, while gathering my ingredients for my Thanksgiving feast, I grabbed a bottle (now plastic!) of Kitchen Bouquet. When I was growing up, every home cook kept a bottle in the pantry. My mother ...

I’ll gulp, fearing what’s coming, and mumble: “Do we have to?” You’ll say: “Yes.” I’ll whisper: “About what.” You’ll say: “Kitchen Bouquet.” Good grief, I’ll think to myself, they found out. They know ...

I’m having dinner with my sister Martha at Jay’s Diner in Henrietta. It’s early, and the crowd is not young. A gentleman who was dining with his wife at a table near us stops on his way off. “You know ...