My brother, an Airman and, more importantly, my best friend, is as much of a disappointment as his sister. Despite having been guided by our parents and disciplined by the U.S. Air Force, his standards for living have obviously declined since he’s been on his own. This is evidenced by the contents of his refrigerator:

Here we have a mostly eaten package of taco-flavored shredded cheese, two hot dogs, jelly, mustard, and a Domino’s…coupon. Remind you of anyone? It’s obvious now more than ever that we share the same bloodline.

I wonder if he eats this stuff in his underwear. I doubt he eats anything in his underwear. In fact, I doubt he even eats.

After a dinner of frozen foods, the microwave continued to reign into dessert.

As is typical in my apartment, there was a minimal selection and I was getting desperate. It didn’t help that I was flipping through one of Lidia Bastianich‘s cookbooks, making the situation all the more humiliating. But there, on page 23 of Lidia Cooks from the Heart of Italy, was a recipe for baked apples. Now we all know that I was in no shape to make her version; but, with my microwave in gear, I made a simple dessert that was done in no time.

Core an apple, leaving the bottom intact. Fill with brown sugar, pumpkin pie spice (or any combination of warm spices) and a very small pinch of salt. Top with a pat of butter and microwave on medium power until the apple is cooked through (for me, it took about eight minutes).

When planning to visit my parents for a weekend, my dad announced that he would drag out the deep fryer. That was all I had to hear to get me on a train out to the ‘burbs for a couple of days.

And you thought he was kidding. Here we have deep-fried string beans, cod and corn dogs. Oh, and we also made potato chips. With my dad at the helm and me, salt in hand, we were the two-person team behind the dinner aptly named by my dad, “Sunday Fry-Up”.

I can’t say that my GI tract let me off easily, but this day dedicated to gluttony and grease was entirely worth it. The bonds formed and enhanced by spending time in the kitchen and around the dinner table with others is, to me, one of the simple beauties in life. So though you may just see a bunch of fried food, I see love.

Cheesy? Perhaps. True? Undoubtedly.

I recently began formulating a menu for a project at The FCI. Instead of starting from the beginning, I went backwards and made dessert. Everyone, meet Apple-Bacon Pie.

I won’t go on and on about how incredibly the savory bits of bacon melded with the sweet apple filling and the spice of the gingersnap crust, I’ll just direct you to the recipe and encourage you to make it yourself. We can all thank (or curse) Mims Bledsoe of The Pie Shop in Atlanta, Georgia, for her genius.

I am not known for taking the most artistic photographs, nor am I known to make particularly beautiful food. This post does nothing to refute these things. In fact, it supports them. But I guess that’s what I love about bolognese: the less attractive, the more enjoyable.

To make this sloppy wonder, start by gently cooking finely diced carrots, onions and celery in oil, taking care not to brown the vegetables. Add minced garlic and cook until fragrant, about one minute. Once the vegetables are soft, deglaze the pan with white wine. After most of the liquid has evaporated, add ground beef. Continue to cook over low heat, stirring frequently, until most of the pink is gone. Pour in a big can of peeled, whole tomatoes (preferably San Marzano, crushed by hand) and toss in herbs of your choice (I used dried oregano and fresh thyme, and wished I had a bay leaf). Simmer gently for two hours, stirring occasionally.

Click to read the trick to finishing the sauce, as well as advice on what to wear when you eat it