By profession, I'm a full-time food writer, sometimes snarky because befuddled, sometimes sarcastic because ridiculously innocent deep in where the marrow lives, and usually up for just about anything new. I'm the author with my partner, Bruce Weinstein, of some 21 cookbooks, as well as a couple ghost-written cookbooks for cantankerous celebrities. I'm also the guy who reads Dante for fun and hangs out in art museums on sunny afternoons. I also lead the book group in a neighboring town.
I am also a bemused Texan in rural New England, a dumbfounded progressive, a once-upon-a-time script writer, and a committed novel reader, now working for some of the glossy food magazines as well as a few of the big websites (like weightwatchers.com, where we write a monthly column: "Sunday in the Kitchen with Bruce and Mark.")
As to the other half of this team, Bruce Weinstein,
he's the chef in the duo, a life-long New Yorker who wanted to leave the city for this rural America thing, and my partner, my better half, my spouse, whatever word works these days. He can rip through Chopin Nocturnes on the piano, knits whenever he's not cooking, and introduced my evangelical family to the question "Who's up for a cocktail?" He loves Modigliani, is indifferent to Picasso, and has been forced to listen to more atonal, post-modern, avant-garde art music than anyone should have ever done. His patience is boundless--except when it comes to bridge, a game he plays with lots of passion.
And then there's this collie named Dreydl.
