Some of my friends will often say to me, “Rebecca, it’s great that you host parties, but I don’t know how to cook.” And my reply is always the same.

If you’re reading this, you’re likely done with unloading the dishwasher. You’d give anything to dine out properly without hand sanitizer.

New Year's Eve is one of my favorite holidays. More specifically, it's the afternoon — not necessarily the evening — on the last day of the year that I enjoy most.

My grandfather was a tremendous cook. From pies to roast turkeys, a meal wasn't complete unless there were floured handprints on the cherry cabinets.

I've lived on West 10th Street in the village for the past six years. Prior to that, I lived on neighboring Christopher Street, one street south, in an apartment at the top of a five-story walkup.

It was an idea that began in the first few months of 2016 — or more precisely, if I'm being entirely honest, it came to me on New Year's Eve of 2015.

The holidays are a hectic time. If you live in New York, they can be dizzying, and even maddening. Each year though, I vow to savor them.

"Don't you just love New York in the fall?" The rhythm of the city settles back into its routine of the weekday grind.

Before I moved to New York City, I was enamored with Nora Ephron’s view of the Upper West Side, as seen through the eyes of Kathleen Kelly.

It all started with a tin of French onion dip. It arrived to my apartment during a Fieldhouse Kitchen tailgating party.

What an unexpected affair. Has it really been five years? Five years of unlikely triumphs, unpredicted hurdles, and endless surprises.

I hosted more dinner parties, brunches, and cocktail parties this year than I care to admit — mainly because it’s hard to remember them all.

I remember the first time a guy ever cooked for me.I remember the music, the hors d’oeuvres (yes, he actually put out snacks before the meal).

It’s no secret: I love to entertain. I love everything from choosing a platter for serving snacks to crafting clever invitations. When a friend of mine contacted me.

I usually only call home when I have either really bad news or really good news to share. It’s true, I’m pretty incapable of making small talk.

One of my most favorite things to do is to make dinner for friends and family. I love hearing the commentary and conversation around food.

It's only natural that Fieldhouse Kitchen’s very first blog post starts where it all began: Maine, my most favorite place.