Since I've left New York, the closest thing I get to restaurant eating is lunch from the food trucks next to campus. I'm not going to get into a big comparison between New York street food and Pittsburgh street food, as it's really no contest. Suffice it to say I have taken the opportunity in this culinary lull to reacquaint myself with the pleasures and pains of home cooking. Today I made a white bean soup with escarole (that's wrinkly lettuce for the folks without Food Network - poor souls) and baked up some yam biscuits. Those of you who remember my closet-kitchen back in New York may be amused to learn that my Pittsburgh kitchen is nearly the same size, though it's big enough that the refrigerator actually resides in the kitchen instead of the living room. Counter space is still pitiful, which, as it turns out, makes kneading biscuit dough well nigh impossible. But the beauty of home cooking is that no matter how questionable your experiments turn out, they are so much work that you'll eat them anyway. And dipped in enough soup or smothered in enough apricot jam, they taste all right.