I don't mind admitting I love wings, and eat them every chance I get. But like air, wings are everywhere. Why would I try to make them?

One-upmanship is the order of the day, and Weberites comb specialty butcher shops for the best prime filet, free-range chicken, and artisanally-raised pork loin.

When I was in Denver recently to witness a niece's wedding, I spent my spare time canvassing the area for green chile. This plainish dish of puréed peppers—midway between a soup and a stew—is the quintessential product of Sonoran...

In the Little Italy known as Belmont, there's a quaint little cheese store called Calandra's. All of the cheeses are still homemade.

My parents were frugal Midwesterners. While we lived in Minneapolis, we ate margarine—in spite of the fact that Minnesota was a dairy state.

Over a couple of decades of international travel I've developed a series of immutable rules.

A decade ago, food books were relentlessly upbeat. But in the last few years we've seen a rash of gloom-and-doom volumes.

Cruising Brooklyn's Atlantic Avenue recently, in the Stuyvesant Heights section, I stopped by the Carolina Country Store to buy some sausage....

François Kwaku-Dongo hails from the Ivory Coast, but his food, says Robert Sietsema, speaks of Japan, Italy, and beyond.

My dad was fresh out of grad school with a degree in biochemistry when he found himself up to his elbows in white powder. It was 1952, and he had joined a team of scientists at International Minerals & Chemicals (IMC) charged with manufacturing...