The first time I brought this quinoa to a neighborhood potluck, it was one of those evenings where everyone arrived a little out of breath. You could tell by the half-wrinkled tablecloth and the store-bought cookies still in their plastic container that we had all just done our best with the day we had. I…
It was one of those drizzly late-fall evenings, everyone tracking in damp leaves, crockpots lined up along a folding table, cords running to every outlet in the house. Someone had made three-alarm chili, someone else brought a very polite potato soup, and this pan of…