Celebrating Bastille Day

Too hot today to do the can-can, so I pulled together a big pot of ratatouille from SIMPLE FRENCH COOKING. The eggplant prep was far easier than in other recipes: slice, brush with olive oil, broil on both sides 'til brown, chop in 1" pieces. These herbes de Provence Leigh gave me a couple of Christmases ago are still fragrant and put the Provençal sunshine in the stew. Bonne fête!

How to make a good life better

Bastille Day is perfect for making a breakfast of eggs scrambled with ham and herbed goat cheese (I'm trying one of the recipes in Emeril Lagasse's upcoming KICKED-UP SANDWICHES, publishing October 2012). As I pushed the eggs around the hot pan, I thought of my grandfather, Papa, whose scrambled eggs are the gold standard by which I judge them all. Soft and creamy, enriched with American cheese, he would serve these up on Sunday mornings in 1950s Chicago with a gentle smile. Never a showman, he knew just how to nourish us, in so many ways. My mother could make these as well as Papa, and my brother Charles, Papa's namesake, carries on the tradition today. I can get close sometimes, but never hit it just right. What is it that these three Whittinghams have? They share a large helping of generosity and patience, two qualities that make not only Sunday mornings more delicious, but a good life overall even better.