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Cheese (may not) heal: Easy Cheese

Cheesemaking has evolved from the ancient Greeks to modern-day farming and production methods. Various cheeses have been produced in this country since the 17th century. According to the International Dairy Foods Association, more than one-third of all milk produced each year in the U.S. is used to manufacture cheese. I do not believe that the ancient Greeks ever imagined that cheese would come in a can. Enter Easy Cheese. What is the definition of cheese? According to Merriam-Webster, Cheese is…

Sassy Bacon Jam

Bacon is one of heaven's finest gifts. Real bacon, not turkey bacon, and do not even think of vegan bacon, although, if you must, I won't judge. The image of bacon sizzling in a skillet on a Sunday morning says, "Ahh, it's Sunday." When you add a little cayenne, this bacon jam becomes very sassy! Jam conjures up images of sweet and sticky jars of fruit. Slightly burned toast that my Gramma Amelia made with her favorite jam or jelly.…

Recipe for a pandemic work out with a mask

We are living in an unprecedented time. We are also at a breaking point, each of us with concerns and struggles. No one is immune. No one is exempt. I want to think that no one is genuinely alone, but I know that is not true. Pasta on the Floor strives to add levity when there is often little to no chance of lightheartedness appearing. "Recipe posts" I have written several recipe posts over the years. The recipe play on…

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Confessions of a quarantined and frustrated writer

Pasta on the Floor has been more than a blog to me. Since 2009, I have shared my experiences with you writing about the people, places, and situations that I  have encountered. Oh, and the food! Cheese does indeed heal, and great food makes a great night with friends more than memorable. I thank you for every text, hug, and comment that you have given to me. The quarantine has squelched my inventiveness. My creative, externally stimulated mind is forced…

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Quarantine: Dawn of Day Four

A little over a week ago, we tackled the 18-hour drive to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to return my only (Italian) son Jack to the Crimson Tide. Jack is a junior, and you’d think by now, I would be used to leaving him. I am proud to say that I only cried while in the state of Alabama this time. By the time we got to Georgia, I was feeling much better. As mentioned in my previous post, We are Small, Chip…