Category Archives: Food

Ketchup or Catsup? Inquiring Minds Want to Know

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Eight different ketchup bottles from various brands arranged side by side against a solid red background, showing the variety of packaging styles and labels.

🍅 The Great Ketchup Debate

Every household has its battles. Some people argue about politics, some about the thermostat, and some about the proper way to fold a fitted sheet. But there’s one debate that has been simmering for generations:

Is it ketchup… or catsup?A vintage Hunt’s Tomato Catsup advertisement showing a bottle of catsup beside a paper bag filled with tomatoes, highlighting how many tomatoes are used to make each bottle.

Once upon a time, “catsup” was the popular spelling. Heinz even used it until 1988. But somewhere along the way, “ketchup” won the popularity contest, and now “catsup” mostly lives on in crossword puzzles and old cookbooks. Same condiment, different spelling — and people still have opinions.

And speaking of opinions…

To Refrigerate or Not to Refrigerate

Restaurants leave it out all day. Half the world leaves it out at home. Heinz says “refrigerate after opening.” Most people pretend they didn’t see that.

The debate continues.

A collage of vintage ketchup advertisements and labels, including old mushroom ketchup bottles, early medicinal-style ketchup branding, and historic tomato extract labels, showing how ketchup was once marketed in many different forms.Ketchup as Medicine?

Believe it or not, ketchup started out as a health food. In the early 1800s, it wasn’t even made from tomatoes — it was a concoction of mushrooms, walnuts, or fish, and doctors prescribed it as a digestive aid. Someone even tried selling ketchup pills as a cure‑all.

Imagine going to the doctor and being told to take two ketchup tablets and call in the morning.

What’s With the Number 57?

Heinz didn’t have 57 varieties. He just liked the number. It sounded good, looked good, and stuck. Marketing magic at its finest.

The Glass Bottle Struggle A close-up of a Heinz ketchup glass bottle showing the embossed number “57” on the neck and part of the tomato ketchup label below

If you grew up with the old glass bottles, you know the dance:

  • Tip the bottle
  • Shake the bottle
  • Plead with the bottle
  • Suddenly get half the bottle at once

The secret? Tap the 57 on the neck. That’s the sweet spot Heinz designed to get the ketchup flowing. Today everything is a squeeze bottle, but the memory of that struggle lives on.

A plate of fluffy scrambled eggs topped with a zigzag drizzle of ketchup, with a fork resting beside the eggs.What People Put It On

This is where things get personal.

Some folks put ketchup on eggs — scrambled, fried, omelets, you name it. Others think that’s a crime against breakfast.

Meatloaf? Ketchup isn’t just a condiment there — it’s practically the main ingredient. Mixed in, brushed on top, baked into a glaze… meatloaf without ketchup is just a loaf of meat trying to find itself.

And then there’s the hot dog debate. Are you a ketchup person? A mustard person? A “both, please” person? Chicago says ketchup is forbidden. New England says “put whatever you want, we’re not judging.”

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

So where do you stand?

Ketchup or catsup? Fridge or counter? Eggs or no eggs? Ketchup or mustard on hot dogs? Tap the 57 or shake the bottle like it owes you money?

One little red condiment… so many opinions.

A sliced meatloaf sits on a white plate, topped with a thick, glossy red glaze. The inside looks moist and finely textured, with small bits of seasoning visible. A fork rests near the edge of the plate, suggesting it’s ready to be served.

Baked Alaska The Dessert, Not The State

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A large lakeside resort complex on Green Island in Lake George, New York, featuring white buildings with brown roofs, outdoor pools, landscaped grounds, and a long dock extending into the lake. The resort is surrounded by dense green forest and distant mountains under a clear sky.

Growing Up a Resort Town Kid

Here we go again, falling down the nostalgia rabbit hole.

A friend of mine posted some vacation photos on Instagram, and one of them was captioned Sagamore Hotel. I immediately dropped him a note: Is that the Sagamore on Lake George? The one on Green Island in Bolton Landing?

When he said yes, they were vacationing there, I of course responded, That’s my hometown! Not the Sagamore itself, of course, but Bolton Landing. To this day it still surprises me when anyone says they know where it is. Everyone has heard of Lake George, but not Bolton Landing.

But I’m getting off track.

The Sagamore was a big convention hotel when I was growing up. They catered to business conferences, and then came the “social season,” when the rich folks from New York City arrived to enjoy the lake. That’s how us locals thought of them. After all, we couldn’t afford to stay at The Sagamore — so obviously the people who did must be rich, right? It was just one of those unspoken small‑town truths.

A spacious hotel lobby with rustic décor, featuring a large round wooden table with decorative vases, comfortable seating areas with earth‑tone armchairs and sofas, stone tile flooring, framed photos on the wall, and a mounted deer head creating a cozy lodge‑style atmosphere.

 

I had a summer job working with the local photographer. Mostly it meant sitting in the lobby next to a display board of photos and taking orders, but occasionally he’d bring me along for banquet night as his assistant. My job was simple: keep the film cartridges loaded and ready to hand over fast. This was especially important when the banquet started.

 

 

All the diners would be seated, and then the kitchen doors swung open. White‑suited chefs and waiters paraded in with huge trays balanced on their shoulders. And coming up the rear was the pièce de résistance — the flaming Baked Alaska. It was always quite a spectacle.

A row of formally dressed servers carrying dome‑shaped Baked Alaska desserts with browned meringue and small blue flames on top, presenting them in a coordinated procession during a banquet. The warm lighting and flames create a dramatic, celebratory atmosphere.

I had no idea then what Baked Alaska actually was, except that it was a dessert that made a grand entrance in flames. Imagine my surprise when I eventually learned it was basically ice cream. What? Doesn’t it melt?

I’m older now and a bit more kitchen‑wise, but I still don’t know if I’m brave enough to try this retro dessert.

Are you?

A Little History Before We Get to the Recipe

Baked Alaska goes all the way back to the mid‑1800s, when chefs were experimenting with the science of heat insulation. The idea was almost comical: wrap ice cream in a thick layer of meringue, then blast it with high heat. The meringue acts like a fluffy winter coat, protecting the frozen center.

The dessert became famous at Delmonico’s Restaurant in New York City, where chef Charles Ranhofer originallyA close-up slice of Baked Alaska showing layers of sponge cake, chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream, all covered in a thick coating of toasted meringue with golden-brown peaks. called it Alaska, Florida — cold inside, hot outside. Over time the name evolved into Baked Alaska, and restaurants began presenting it with full theatrical flair: dimmed lights, flaming rum, and waiters parading it through the dining room like royalty.

That’s the version I saw at the Sagamore — the classic banquet‑hall Baked Alaska, flaming and dramatic and absolutely unforgettable.

But the classic version is… well… a production. So here’s a simplified, home‑friendly version that gives you the magic without the stress.

🍨 Simplified Baked Alaska (Home-Friendly Version)

Ingredients

  • 1 pound cake (store‑bought works perfectly)
  • 1 pint ice cream (any flavor you love)
  • 3 large egg whites
  • ½ cup sugar
  • ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Pinch of salt

Instructions

  1. Prepare the base: Cut the pound cake into a circle or square slightly larger than your ice cream dome. Place it on a parchment‑lined baking sheet.
  2. Add the ice cream: Scoop the ice cream into a rounded mound on top of the cake. Freeze for at least 1 hour so it’s firm.
  3. Make the meringue: Beat egg whites and salt until foamy. Gradually add sugar and vanilla. Continue beating until stiff, glossy peaks form.
  4. Cover completely: Spread the meringue over the ice cream and cake, making sure it’s sealed with no gaps. This insulation is what keeps the ice cream from melting.
  5. Bake quickly: Bake at 500°F for 3–5 minutes, just until the meringue is golden. (Or use a kitchen torch for even easier browning.)
  6. Serve immediately: Slice and enjoy the magic — warm meringue outside, cold ice cream inside.

A dome-shaped Baked Alaska covered in toasted meringue with golden-brown peaks, sitting on a decorative plate with fresh strawberries blurred in the background.

Final Thoughts

So there you have it — a little Baked Alaska nostalgia. It’s one of those retro desserts that deserves a comeback. Meringue and ice cream? Yes, please.

 

Summer’s End: Marshmallows, S’mores, and Sweet Debates

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Two marshmallows on a wooden skewer being roasted over an open flame, turning golden brown with lightly charred edges above a bright orange campfire.

Labor Day BBQ’s and Marshmallow Questions

Here we are at Summer’s End — the last of the BBQ hurrahs. So naturally, I have questions. Important questions. Marshmallow‑based questions.

S’mores Fans vs. Marshmallow Purists

Are you all die‑hard S’mores fans, or do some of you prefer a simple, toasty marshmallow now and then?

Don’t get me wrong — I enjoy a S’mores occasionally. But they’re really sweet. I have a sweet tooth, but more than one S’mores and my stomach stages a full revolt even while my taste buds are chanting more, more, more. Marshmallows on their own, though? Those I can handle just fine.

Golden Brown or Burned to a Crisp?

If you are a marshmallow purist, what’s your style?

  • Patient golden brown
  • Burn it to a crisp and grab it before it falls off the stick

I admit I like both, but the burned, hot, bubbly ones probably win for me. ( I lack patience for that golden , brown deliciousness)

A Word About Peeps

Question three: Do you like Peeps?

You know — those pink and yellow marshmallow bunnies and chicks that only appear at Easter. I love them. I don’t stick them in the fire (I’m not a monster), but I can nosh down a whole box of those little treats.

They’re also great fun for decorating cakes. The chicks make a cute sunflower cake, and the bunnies look adorable on a pastel Easter cake.

Homemade Marshmallows: Are You Brave Enough?

Last question: Do any of you make your own marshmallows?

I’m told it’s not hard. I even saw kids make them on Kids Baking Championship — and those kids are amazing. I’ve got a recipe for homemade marshmallows, but I’ve never tried it.

Here it is if you’re feeling adventurous.

Homemade Marshmallows

Ingredients

  • Nonstick cooking spray
  • 1 cup powdered sugar
  • 3 (1/4‑oz.) packages unflavored powdered gelatin
  • 1 cup cold water
  • 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
  • 1 cup light corn syrup
  • 1/2 tsp kosher salt
  • 2 tsp vanilla bean paste or extract
  • 2 (3.5‑oz.) dark chocolate bars, roughly chopped (optional)
  • Chocolate jimmies, for garnish (optional)

Directions

  1. Line a 9‑inch square baking pan with plastic wrap. Lightly grease with cooking spray and dust generously with powdered sugar.
  2. In a stand mixer bowl, sprinkle gelatin over 1/2 cup cold water. Whisk to combine and let bloom for 10 minutes.
  3. In a saucepan, combine sugar, corn syrup, salt, and remaining 1/2 cup water. Cook over medium‑high until dissolved, about 3 minutes. Continue cooking until the syrup reaches 240°F, about 10 minutes.
  4. Turn mixer to medium‑low and carefully drizzle in the hot syrup. Increase speed to high and beat until thick and fluffy, 10–12 minutes. Stir in vanilla.
  5. Pour mixture into prepared pan, smooth the top, and dust with powdered sugar. Let stand uncovered overnight.
  6. Lift marshmallow slab onto a cutting board. Cut into squares, dusting the knife with powdered sugar as needed. Toss pieces in powdered sugar to coat. Store up to 1 week.
  7. Optional: Melt chocolate in the microwave in 30‑second intervals.
  8. Dip marshmallows halfway into chocolate, sprinkle with jimmies, and chill until set.

Tip: If you’re dipping them in chocolate, skip dusting the side that gets dipped — the chocolate sticks better.

Recipe by Sloane Layton.

 

If you’re dedicated enough to try the recipe — or if you have a tried‑and‑true version of your own — let me know. I don’t think I’m quite ready to dive into this yet, but I’m cheering on anyone who is.

 

 

 

WMEO Special Report: It’s National Toasted Marshmallow Day!

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An empty WMEO 9 news desk sits in a brightly lit newsroom. A microphone and two sheets of paper rest on the desk, and multiple blurred screens with news graphics appear in the background along with a city skyline.

This is an WMEO Special report. Our anchors are on location tonight.

We bring you live from the WMEO campground, a full report on the marshmallow celebration for Toasted Marshmallow Day. Our intrepid reporters, Banner and Balboa, are on location tonight, investigating the state of marshmallow toastiness across the region. Early findings suggest high fluff levels, excellent golden‑brown technique, and one missing marshmallow (Balboa continues to deny involvement).

Cartoon versions of two cats sit by a small campfire at night, each holding a stick with a marshmallow over the flames. The orange cat on the left and the black cat on the right are roasting marshmallows in a simple outdoor scene with a dark background and grass at the bottom.

[Live‑Mic Moment] (Audio crackles. The campfire pops.)

Banner: “You burned mine again!”

Balboa: “It’s called caramelization, genius.”

Banner: “It’s called sabotage.”

Balboa: “You’re lucky I didn’t eat yours for evidence.”

(Producer voice off‑screen) “Uh… we’re still live.”

Both: “Oh.” (awkward pause, then cheerful tone)

Banner: “Back to you at the desk!”

Stay tuned for updates as the investigation heats up.

 

Two marshmallows on a wooden stick roast over bright orange flames, with the marshmallows turning golden brown as smoke rises from the fire.

Summer’s End: Fairs, Food, and the First Signs of Magic

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A single tree covered in bright red autumn leaves stands in a grassy yard, surrounded by green foliage and a wooden fence. The vivid red color contrasts sharply with the surrounding greenery, capturing the early beauty of fall in New England.

Fall leavesSummer’s Last Hurrah

Here we are in the second half of August. Summer is winding down, and everyone is scrambling to squeeze in that last vacation, beach day, or backyard barbecue before school starts. Summer always feels too short — but the good news is that fall in New England has a special magic all its own.

The First Signs of Fall

Apple picking season arrives with pies, cobblers, crisps, and even apple pancakes. Cranberry bogs turn brilliant red as farmers flood the fields for harvest. Everywhere you look, there’s a sense of change in the air — and that brings us to one of the best parts of autumn: the fairs.

Cranberry Bog

The Big One: The Big E

Let’s start with the biggest fair of them all. The Big E, located in Springfield, offers a full 17 days of fair fun. Some years you’ll find camel and elephant rides for the kids. One year when I visited, the Budweiser Clydesdales led the parade — a sight you never forget. There’s so much to see and do, it’s practically its own season.

2026 Dates: September 18 – October 4

The Topsfield Fair

If that’s not enough for you, head to the Topsfield Fair — one of the oldest agricultural fairs in the country. They’re famous for their Giant Pumpkin Contest. In 2022, a record was set with a 2,480‑pound pumpkin grown in Tyngsboro, MA. That’s a lot of pumpkin pies.

2026 Dates: October 2 – October 12

More Great New England Fairs

Miss those two and you still have plenty to choose from. New England is packed with fall fairs, each with its own charm:

  • Fryeburg Fair (ME) – Early October
  • Deerfield Fair (NH) – Late September
  • Durham Fair (CT) – Late September
  • Franklin County Fair (MA) – Early September
  • Spencer Fair (MA) – Labor Day Weekend
  • Three County Fair (MA) – Labor Day Weekend

There’s truly something happening every weekend.

Specialty Fun: King Richard’s Faire

Now for the specialty faire — spelled with an e, of course. King Richard’s Faire is New England’s ultimate Renaissance experience. So my Lords and Ladies, dust off your swords and join the fun. Watch jousting and jugglers, enjoy turkey legs and mead, and step back in time for a day.

2026 Dates: August 29 – October 25

Food Festivals & Coastal Celebrations

Fall isn’t just about fairs — it’s also prime time for food and coastal festivals.

Bourne Scallop FestivalFried Scallops

One of my favorites. It features one of my favorite foods — scallops. Succulent, deep‑fried, golden scallops. They also have craft booths, but let’s be honest… I go for the scallops.

Gloucester Schooner Festival

If you want boats and fireworks, this is the place to be. Historic schooners, races, and nighttime fireworks light up the harbor.

2026 Dates: September 4–7

Peak Foliage: Nature’s Grand Finale

And just wait for that burst of color from the trees. Fall foliage usually peaks around mid‑October in southern New England, but it depends on where you are. Farther north — say in Maine — peak color can arrive as early as late September. Plan accordingly if you’re chasing the brightest leaves.

Welcome to Fall in New England

It’s a busy, beautiful season filled with fairs, festivals, food, and foliage. Whether you’re apple picking, wandering a fairground, or watching the trees turn gold, fall in New England never disappoints.