I got an early start, and in the morning I collected ingredients from all my favorite shops. It was beautiful and sunny out, and hey, we should really go for a walk. And do you want to try someplace new for lunch? And, and.....and somehow the day snuck away from me in a hundred fantastic ways. In the end, a spinach tart made it next door, and the neighborhood kids got freshly baked cookies, and the chocolate tart made it out of the oven, but not to the party. And this salad never made it out of my head. It had to wait until later in the week to make an appearance. But I thought I'd share it with you because I liked how it turned out.

The idea was a simple roasted potato salad incorporating a couple other seasonal root vegetables like parsnips and carrots. I served it on a bed of wild rice - all with a simple mustard vinaigrette. I've think I've subliminally been on a bit of a mustard bender since I returned from Paris.

Also, I should mention, embarrassingly enough - that when all these roasted beauties finished their term in the oven, I noticed the parsnips waiting patiently on the sideline, quiet as church mice, raw as ever. They never made it onto the pan. I'll include them in the recipe though, because they were supposed to be there.

I used some charming pink-fleshed, huckleberry potatoes (or at least I believe they were huckleberry potatoes), but any small, waxy potatoes will do. Also, on the mustard front, I seek out plain whole-grain mustard for the dressing - no added herbs. Also, and I've mentioned this before, wild rice takes some time to cook, so I make up big pots of it, drain it really well, let it cool, pack it into freezer bags, and freeze it. It freezes beautifully, and makes quick work salads like this - perfect for soups too. And one last note of importance, do your best to cut your vegetables into pieces of similar thickness, so they roast in a similar time frame.

1 1/2 pounds small, waxy potatoes, well scrubbed and halved or quartered
1/2 pound baby carrots, well scrubbed and halved or quartered
1/2 pound parsnips, well scrubbed, and halved
6 medium shallots, peeled
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 big pinches of sea salt
2 bunches of scallions (green onions), greens topped off, and halved lengthwise

vinaigrette:
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 small shallot, minced
2 teaspoons whole grain mustard
1/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
1/3 cup of olive oil
1 tablespoon heavy cream or creme fraiche (optional)

2 cups cooked wild rice (opt)

Preheat oven to 375F degrees.

In a large bowl toss the potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and shallots with 1/4 cup of olive oil and 2 big pinches of salt. When the ingredients are well coated, turn them out onto a large baking sheet in a single layer. There will be a bit of residual oil in the bottom of the bowl, gently add the green onions to the mixing bowl and push them around a bit until they are coated as well. If there is room on your baking sheet add the onions in their own corner (they take less time to roast and you will need to remove them), or place them on their own baking sheet. Place in the oven.

The scallions will likely finished baking first, remove them when they are well-browned, roughly 20 minutes. The rest of the vegetables usually take somewhere between 40 and 60 minutes. Let them go until they are deeply golden and tender throughout. Check them regularly, flip them with a metal spatula once or twice along the way, and if any of the smaller pieces are getting too dark pull them off the pan.

While the vegetables are roasting, start the dressing by pouring the red wine vinegar into a small bowl along with the chopped shallot. If you have the time, let it sit there for twenty minutes or so. Then whisk in the mustard and salt, before slowly drizzling in the olive oil, whisking all the while. Whisk in the cream, taste and adjust with more mustard, vinegar, salt, etc to taste.

When they are done roasting, remove the vegetables from the oven. In a large bowl toss the wild rice (if you're going that route) with a splash of the vinaigrette. You can now either transfer the rice to a serving platter, as a bed for the vegetables, or you can add the roasted vegetables to the bowl and toss them with the rice, the rest of the dressing, and half of the scallions. Turn everything out onto the platter and serve topped with the remaining roasted scallions.

Serves 6.

Aside from the croutons, this soup likes crusty, toasted walnut bread, or olive bread. It likes a good sheep feta in place of cheddar if that's what you happen to have on hand, or a kiss of harissa whisked into a bit of olive oil. I know people like to pair broccoli with blue cheese. Personally, I find that to be over-powering, but if you really love blue cheese, that might be another direction to explore. If you have any other ideas, let me hear them - I make this soup often enough that I need fresh angles to work!

Look for deeply green, tight heads of broccoli. I typically avoid any heads that have yellowing florets or seem died out. If you like a slightly creamier soup, stir in a generous dollop of creme fraiche after pureeing. You can easily make this soup vegan by using olive oil and omitting the cheese/creme fraiche, and you can make it gluten-free by doing something in place of the croutons.

croutons
5-6 ounce chunk of artisan whole wheat bread, torn into little pieces (less than 1-inch), roughly 3 cups total

1/4 cup butter or olive oil (I like 1/2 and 1/2)
1 1/2 tablespoons whole grain mustard
1/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

soup:
2 tablespoons unsalted butter or olive oil
1 shallot, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large potato, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch cubes (1 1/2 cups)
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 1/2 cups light, good-tasting vegetable broth
1 large head of broccoli (12 ounces or 3/4 lb.), cut into small florets

2/3 cup freshly grated aged Cheddar, plus more for topping
1 - 3 teaspoons whole grain mustard, to taste
smoked paprika, more olive oil, creme fraiche (optional)

Preheat your oven to 350F degrees and place the torn bread in a large bowl. In a small saucepan heat the butter until it has melted. Whisk the mustard and salt into the butter and pour the mixture over the bread. Toss well, then turn the bread onto a baking sheet and bake for 10 - 15 minutes, or until the croutons are golden and crunchy. Toss them once or twice with a metal spatula along the way.

While the croutons are toasting, melt the butter (or olive oil) in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Stir in the shallots, onion, and a big pinch of salt. Saute for a couple minutes. Stir in the potatoes, cover, and cook for about four minutes, just long enough for them to soften up a bit. Uncover, stir in the garlic, then the broth. Bring to a boil, taste to make sure the potatoes are tender, and if they are stir in the broccoli. Simmer just long enough for the broccoli to get tender throughout, 2 - 4 minutes.

Immediately remove the soup from heat and puree with an immersion blender. Add half the cheddar cheese and the mustard (a little bit a a time). If you are going to add any creme fraiche, this would be the time to do it. Now add more water or broth if you feel the need to thin out the soup at all. Taste and add more salt if needed.

Serve sprinkled with croutons, the remaining cheese, a drizzle of olive oil, and a tiny pinch of smoked paprika.

Serves 4 - 6.

Roasted Pumpkin Salad - A roasted pumpkin salad made with wild rice, tiny, caramelized red onions drizzled with a simple, honey-kissed, creamy sunflower seed dressing. A colorful harvest salad perfect for Fall festivities.

Thai-spiced Pumpkin Soup - From deep in archives, this Thai-spiced Pumpkin Soup couldn't be easier to make - roasted winter squash, coconut milk, Thai red curry paste, and sea salt come together in a pot of vibrant, rich, flavorful soup. Total crowd pleaser.

Caramel Apples - a caramel apple recipe made from apples, honey, cream, and salt - all-natural, with no processed corn syrup or other funky ingredients.

Spice-kissed Pumpkin Pie - a favorite, easy pumpkin pie recipe. Made from a rich, roasted pumpkin and coconut milk base, and baked in a hazelnut-lined crust.

Spooky Ghost Meringues - a fun meringue recipe that enables you to shape the meringue into seasonal shapes - ghosts for halloween, or snowmen for the holidays.

Toasted Pumpkin Seeds - Don't let all those pumpkin seeds go to waste, toasting pumpkin seeds is easy. Here are a few different flavor combinations: Sweet & Spicy Toasted Pumpkin Seeds, Black Tea & Butter Toasted Pumpkin Seeds, and Curried Toasted Pumpkin Seeds.

Here is where all the pumpkin recipes live. Some are also filed under: winter squash recipes as well. Happy Halloween!

It's not as if we need another shortbread recipe highlighted on this site - there's already this one and that one. But this promised to be a shortbread of a different breed - this one was buttery, sweet, and flecked with shredded apples and carrots. Even better - I had nearly everything on hand to make them.

I switched things up a bit from the original recipe, opting for a slightly more rustic version. For the sweetener, I thought a light Muscavado brown sugar would be nice alongside the apples - in place of white sugar. And I used a powdery-soft whole wheat pastry flour in place of unbleached all-purpose. And because I couldn't help myself, I tossed in some lemon zest for a bit of brightness.

For those of you who are more particular about your shortbread, I should mention, these cookies don't have quite as much snap as a shortbread made without moist, shredded apples and carrots in the dough, but they are charming (and delicious) all the same. I had a couple alongside a cup of one of my favorite white teas - and I have to say, it was not a bad way to spend a few moments looking out our big windows at the trees whipping around in the wind outside.

You're going to want to use metal (or sharp-edged) cookie cutters here, it will help cut through the shreds of apple/carrot more easily. If you can't track down whole wheat pastry flour, substitute unbleached all-purpose flour, or I suspect white whole wheat flour work just fine as well.

1/4 cup / 2 ounces / 50g semolina flour
1 1/2 cups / 6 ounces whole wheat pastry flour
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
5 ounces (150g) unsalted butter, room temperature
2/3 cup / 3 1/2 ounces (100g) light Muscovado sugar (or brown sugar)
2 ounces (50g) carrot, grated (about 1/4 cup)
1 ounce (25g) apple, grated (about 1/6 of a med. apple)
zest of one lemon
milk

Preheat your oven to 350F degrees, or 180C. Sift the semolina, flour, baking powder and salt into a medium bowl, and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Stir the carrot, apple, and lemon zest into the flour mixture, and mix until well coated and evenly dispersed. Stir the flour mixture into the butter mixture until a dough forms, then knead a couple times to bring everything together. Split the dough in two, flatten each piece into an inch-thick patty, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least thirty minutes.

When you're ready to bake the shortbread, roll the dough out onto a lightly floured surface 1/2-inch thick/1cm. Use a metal cutters to stamp out cookies, then place them on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Brush lightly with a bit of milk and bake for about 10 minutes, or until the edges of the cookies start to brown just a bit.

Makes about 3 dozen cookies.

This recipe was adapted from Good Tempered Food: by Tamasin Day-Lewis. Published by Miramax (October 2004).

But(!) at least a few times a week I like to try something completely new, something I've never tried before. Sometimes it's my own idea, other times the recipe comes from elsewhere. For example, I came across a Warm Red Cabbage Salad with Dried Fruit and Feta in the new Complete Tassajara Cookbook I bought a few weeks back. I liked the idea of a warm winter salad - sweet and salty, rich with color, texture, and flavor. I was excited to give it a go.

I used the recipe as a jumping off point, tweaking it to my preferences. I cooked the cabbage uncovered, and for less time than the recipe called for (to retain a bit of structure), used considerably smaller amounts of cheese and fruit, and generally trusted my own instincts and tastes along the way. You can use my version of it as your own jumping off point, and play around with it to suit your tastes as well.

Some things I thought about along the way - I used golden raisins, but I imagine any number of dried fruits would work nicely. A few toasted walnuts or hazelnuts tossed in the pan at the last minute might be a welcome way to up the crunch factor. A bit of cabbage used to top off a bowl of risotto or polenta might be striking. Or as a filling for a piadine. Or how about using it as the finishing touch on a savory spinach tart? A recipe like this one can launch me in a hundred different directions.

So, when I think about how often I cook, I naturally think about why I rarely get tired of cooking. And I think it's because I find the task endlessly challenging and continually inspiring. A bit of a rhythm has emerged through it all - it goes something like this: old, new, me, you. Meaning - I cook an old favorite one night, next I might explore a technique or region that is entirely new to me, then maybe I'll try out an idea of my own, and then a recipe I've learned about in a book, magazine, website, or from a friend - like this one.

And I have to say, it's rhythm that works for me. Despite the hours I spend cooking, I still enjoy pulling my apron over my head, tying the knot behind my back, turning the knob on the stove and hearing the whoosh of the flame catch on the gas burner...

I've incorporated all my changes into this version the recipe, originally adapted from The Complete Tassajara Cookbook. This version is less cheesy, fruity, and rich - but feel free to experiment with the components in this salad until it is to your liking.

1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1 teaspoon natural cane sugar (or brown sugar)
fine grain sea salt

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 red onion, diced
3 medium cloves garlic, minced

1 pound head of red cabbage or radicchio, quartered and cut into thin ribbons

1 teaspoon fresh rosemary, minced
2 ounces golden raisins (or other plump, chopped dried fruit)
1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 ounces feta cheese, crumbled

a bit of freshly grated Parmesan cheese, to garnish

Roast the sunflower seeds in a dry skillet over medium heat until golden brown. Sprinkle on the sugar, and a couple pinches of salt. Stir until the sugar melts and coats the seeds (you pan will need to be hot enough). Transfer the seeds immediately to a plate so they don't stick to the pan. Set aside.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet and saute the onion for a minutes or two with a couple pinches of salt. Stir in the garlic, and the cabbage, and a few more pinches of salt. Stir and cook for just a minute or so, or until the cabbage softens up just a touch. Then stir in the rosemary, most of the raisins, and the vinegar. The cabbage will continue to get more and more tender even after you remove it from the heat, so keep that in mind, and do your best to avoid overcooking it - where it collapses entirely. Fold in half of the feta cheese, most of the sunflower seeds, then taste. Season with more salt if needed. Serve garnished with the remaining raisins, feta, sunflower seeds and Parmesan cheese.

Serves 4 to 6.

This recipe was adapted from The Complete Tassajara Cookbook by Edward Espe Brown. Published by Shambhala (September 8, 2009)

It is spider season here, and if you forget, you pay. I can't count how many times I've walked into spider webs in our back yard. It freaks me out every. single. time. In part because the spiders that live in those webs are so large. Too large to smash with a paper towel large - not that I'm in the spider smashing business. I find the ones with the bulbous golden-yellow bodies particularly alarming.

Without going too far down the spider track here, I'll just say, my outdoor lunch quickly became an indoor one after I counted five spiders, webs in full span, within a ten foot radius of my desired lunch spot.

Spiders aside, I thought this soup was good enough to share. It's a single-pot soup made by browning some onions, adding the rest of the ingredients, and cooking the whole lot until its done - however long that takes. The rice is the component that takes longest to cook, and mine was tender in about 25 minutes. I topped each bowl with what I had on-hand at the time: toasted almond slices, some crumbled feta, and a few oil-cured olives that I chopped into little black flecks.

I used red lentils, but as you can see in the photo, the soup is actually more yellow-orange than red. Red lentils (unlike black lentils, or lentils du Puy, or yellow split peas) collapse and lose structure quite quickly - and in this case they shift color a bit. Don't let that throw you. And it's actually the rice that retains it's texture here, while the lentils provide the body for the soup. So don't be alarmed when your lentils stop looking like lentils after about ten minutes in the pot.

Be sure to pick through your lentils carefully. I somehow always find pebbles or clots of dirt hiding in their midst. Better to catch them on the front end, before you chip a tooth. And to make this soup vegan, just skip the feta at the end i bet some chopped avocado would be a good alternative.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 onion, chopped
3 shallots, chopped
1/2 teaspoon red-pepper flakes

6 cups good-tasting vegetable stock (or water)
1 1/3 cup red lentils, picked over and rinsed
1/2 cup brown rice, picked over and rinsed
as much fine grain sea salt as you need

slivered almonds, toasted
black oil cured olives, chopped
feta, crumbled

In a big soup pot, over medium heat, combine the olive oil, onion, shallots, and red pepper flakes. Let them brown, and caramelize a bit, stirring occasionally.

Stir in the broth, bring to a boil, then stir in the lentils and rice. Simmer for about 30 minutes or until the rice is very tender, and not at all toothsome. By this time, the lentils will have collapsed into a thick slop of sorts. If you need to add more water/broth at any point do so a splash at a time, until the soup thins out to the point you prefer.

Unless you used a salty broth, you will likely need to salt generously, until the the soup no longer tastes flat. Serve each bowl topped with almonds, olives, feta, and a slight drizzle of olive oil if you like.

Serves 4 - 6.

I'm sure many of you are familiar with her debut cookbook, Into the Vietnamese Kitchen. It was among the finalists for a James Beard Foundation award (best Asian cookbook) and two International Association of Culinary Professionals awards (best first book and best international book). For all you dumpling fans out there, her second book, Asian Dumplings, tackles the subject spanning samosas, lumpia, pot stickers, momo, gyōza, wontons, bāo, and then some. She's a contributing editor to Saveur magazine, writes for newspapers like the Los Angeles Times and San Jose Mercury News, and teaches cooking classes regularly. When I asked Andrea to share some of her favorite cookbooks, she replied with the following...

A woman I know lost her entire cookbook collection in one of the recent Santa Barbara fires. I winced when I heard about it as I've often wondered what I'd grab or miss the most should disaster strike. My collection of cookbooks fills several seven-foot-tall bookshelves in my dining room and office. It is comprised of my mother's notebook of handwritten recipes that she carried from Vietnam when we fled, works that I perused during my youth, gems discovered overseas or hunted down at used bookstores, and many acquired online during late night shopping forays. I'd be heartbroken if I no longer had certain ones as they are special, irreplaceable artifacts of time and place. However, if my entire library of cookbooks were to vanish, I would find my bearing and seed a new collection with these works:

Eastern

Irene Kuo's The Key to Chinese Cooking (Knopf, 1977) was my first Chinese cookbook. After my family arrived in the U.S. in 1975, we started going to our local library to checkout cookbooks and then eventually joined Book-of-the-Month clubs to start our own cookbook collection. My three sisters and I read all the fine print and took turns joining so we could get multiple deals on cookbooks. Kuo's was among our family's favorites. She was spot on back in '77 and still is today. I own two copies, one with a broken spine and the other has hardly been cracked open as it waits for the first one to completely fall apart.

If I lost those copies, I'd track down a third copy. But I'd supplement Kuo's Chinese recipes with those by Grace Young in The Wisdom of the Chinese Kitchen and The Breath of a Wok (Simon & Schuster, 1999 and 2004). All the recipes work in Grace's books, and she has a great palate.

For dreaming about and cooking the flavors of South and Southeast Asia, I'd get Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid's Hot Sour Salty Sweet and Beyond the Great Wall (Artisan, 2000 and 2008). Their books have fed my creativity, piqued my curiosity, and satisfied my hunger for Asian food and culture for years. The over-sized tomes are not merely for coffee table décor. They are books to cook and learn from.

Latin

I've lived in California for most of my life and Mexican food is a necessity. Rick Bayless has never failed me with his recipes for making uncommonly delicious Mexican Food. I can easily spend a day cooking from his books, especially Rick Bayless's Mexican Kitchen (Scribner, 1996). For the ultimate from-scratch cooking experience, I'd also pick up Diana Kennedy's From My Mexican Kitchen (Clarkson Potter, 2003).

Western

Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking is getting lots of press these days but frankly, I don't often use those volumes. If I want well-honed instructions on classic French and American dishes, I make a beeline for The Way to Cook (Knopf, 1993). She very clearly, and with her signature humor, tells you how to make terrific pate, meatloaf, and pumpkin pie. There's work involved but it's neither nervous making nor laborious seeming. Along with J.C. (and I'm not talking Jesus here), I'd pick up James Beard's American Cookery (Little Brown and Co., 1980). For Italian recipes, Marcella Hazan's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking (Knopf, 1992) has been my kitchen companion since it came out in 1992 and I'd surely bring her back.

These cookbooks by Child, Beard, and Hazan all have an authoritative voice that is friendly, not motherly. (Who wants their mom hovering over them as they cook?) Their thoughtful and straight-ahead approach to home cooking inspires my writing and informs my understanding of American and European fare.

Reference

I'm a geek who LOVES reading cookbook glossaries. Alan Davidson's Oxford Companion to Food is one of the books that I grab to look something up as I research and develop recipes; either the first or second edition would do. For Asian ingredients, Charmaine Solomon's Encyclopedia of Asian Food (Tuttle, 2008) and Bruce Cost's Asian Ingredients (William Morrow, 2000) are my requisite reference works.

Finally, I would be disingenuous if I didn't say that I'd be quick to replenish copies of my own cookbooks. Truth be told, I regularly cook from them and follow my own instructions. The results are surprisingly good!

Cooking is a craft that I regularly practice and these are among the works that I cherish most. My personal and professional life would be incomplete without cookbooks around.

Here's where you can find Andrea:
- Andrea's newest book: Asian Dumplings
- Andrea's first book: Into the Vietnamese Kitchen
- Viet World Kitchen
- Asian Dumpling Tips
- Follow Andrea on Twitter

Photo by: Penny De Los Santos. You can follow Penny's blog here, or her twitter stream. My hope is that I can convince her to share her favorite cookbooks with us at some point too!

The garlic mellows as it simmers and works itself into something round and mild - not at all harsh or aggressive in flavor or fragrance. It's a restorative soup, one that I make when I want something simple and direct, but with more body than a clear, brothy soup or consommé.

And, it's worth noting, if you've ever made ice cream from scratch, you should have no trouble here. The technique is quite similar.

The following recipe reflects how I make this soup, with my notes/words. The original recipe often calls for a range of a particular ingredient, for example, 10 - 15 cloves of garlic, or healthy pinch of thyme....I decided to included the amounts I use when I make it.

1 quart (4 cups) water
1 bay leaf
2 sage leaves
3/4 teaspoon fresh thyme
a dozen medium cloves of garlic, smashed peeled, and chopped
1 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

Binding pommade:
1 whole egg
2 egg yolks
1 1/2 ounces freshly grated Parmesan cheese
freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

day-old crusty bread & more olive oil to drizzle

Bring the water to a boil in a medium saucepan and add the bay leaf, sage, thyme, garlic, and salt. Heat to a gentle boil and simmer for 40 minutes. Strain into a bowl, remove the bay and sage leaves from the strainer, and return the broth and garlic back to the saucepan, off the heat. Taste and add more salt if needed.

With a fork, whisk the egg, egg yolks, cheese, and pepper together in a bowl until creamy. Slowly drizzle in the olive oil, beating all the time, then add (slowly! slowly!), continuing to whisk, a large ladleful of the broth. Stir the contents of the bowl into the garlic broth and whisk it continuously over low-medium heat until it thickens slightly. Olney states, "just long enough to be no longer watery." I usually let it go a wee-bit beyond that - until it is the consistency of half-and-half or cream. Place a handful of torn bread chunks into the bottom of each bowl and pour the soup over the bread. Finish with a drizzle of olive oil, and serve immediately.

Makes about 4 cups of soup.

This recipe was adapted from The French Menu Cookbook by Richard Olney. Originally published in 1970, this edition was republished by Ten Speed Press in 2002.

I should mention that Anna has a long track record of writing much-loved recipes. She wrote The Vegetarian Epicure in 1973, a classic, while she was a graduate student in film production at UCLA. I'm sure many of you know it well.

For those of you interested in knowing a bit more about the new book, all the recipes in Love Soup are vegetarian, many vegan. If you've ever wondered what to do with this ingredient or that in your farm box - from golden beets to purple cauliflower, this book is a nice catalog of ideas. I made her deconstructed hummus soup before we left for Paris, also good.

The book is 525 pages, b/w with illustrations, no photos. The soups are seasonally organized, and most are as approachable as the one I'm featuring today - unfussy instructions, achievable ingredient lists. Anna also includes a few salad, bread, and sweet recipes to close out the volume.

Let me know if any of you have tried any of the recipes from Love Soup yet. It'll help me decided which one to try next. -h

I made my own tweaks to Anna's soup, and my version is as follows. The main difference was that the soup was so pretty after cooking (see photos), that I decided not to puree mine at the last minute. But I did puree the leftovers (also delicious!), just a different soup altogether. It's up to you really. Anna also mentions that she sometimes adds a bit of miso or tamari at the very end to deepen the flavor, but you should add it sparingly, and taste as you go.

1 large yellow onion (250g)
2 tablespoons (30 ml.) olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt, plus more to taste
1 large sweet potato (12 ounces; 350 g)
1 large leek, white and light green parts (5 ounces; 140 g)
1 bunch spinach (8 ounces; 225 g)
1 large bunch green chard (12 ounces; 350 g)
3 tablespoons (30 g) chopped fresh ginger, plus more to taste
2 cups (500 ml) good-tasting vegetable broth
2-4 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
freshly ground black pepper

Chop the onion and cook it slowly in the olive oil with a sprinkle of salt, stirring now and then, over low heat until it is soft and golden, about half an hour.

Meanwhile, peel and dice the sweet potato and put it in a large soup pot with 4 cups (1 liter) water and a teaspoon of sea salt. Thoroughly wash the leek, spinach, and chard, chop them coarsely, and add them to the pot, along with the chopped ginger.

Bring the water to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer the soup, covered, for 30 minutes, or until the vegetables are completely tender. Add the caramelized onions when they are ready. When the vegetables are soft, add the vegetable broth (you can add less if you like a thicker soup) and decide whether you want your soup chunky, like this, or smooth. If the latter, puree the soup in a blender, in batches, or with an immersion blender until it is smooth.

Stir in 2 teaspoons of the lemon juice and a few grinds of black pepper. Taste, and correct the seasoning with additional salt or lemon juice.

Serves 5-6.

This recipe was adapted from Love Soup by Anna Thomas. Published by W. W. Norton & Company; September 2009. For those of you who want to get books signed, Anna is visiting quite a number of California book stores throughout October and November, more info here.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that Clotilde and I decided to swap apartments. She came to San Francisco while I went to Paris. Wayne and I spent ten days in Paris criss-crossing the city on foot and by subway, darting into patisseries, taking photographs, and sitting on benches in flower-lined city gardens. We ate well in Paris, and I found plenty to be inspired by in the little cafes serving up seasonal tarts, salads, crepes, and quiches.

We settled into Clotilde's lovely Montmartre apartment just short walk down the hill from the Sacré-Cœur. After the long flight Wayne and I unloaded our bags and walked five minutes to Rose Bakery for a late lunch. I'll tell you right now, I could eat there everyday for the rest of my life and be perfectly content. The curried yellow lentil soup I ordered hit just the right note that first rainy day in Paris. The rain cleared in the afternoon and we eventually walked up the hill to the Sacre Coeur. It was a nice (if not touristy) way to start our exploring. Paris at your feet, the sun threatening to set behind the Eiffel Tower off in the distance, Parisians lounging on the steps with wine in hand.

We then dove right in to the museums, cafes, and hussle-bustle of Paris. There were many things worth remembering about this trip, but I tried to condense it into a list of highlights - places I loved, great food I tasted, the best things I did. Hopefully the list can serve as a bit of inspiration if you find yourself in Paris sometime soon.

Paris highlights: Shopping for seasonal gems at the Saturday morning President Wilson Market - fresh hazelnuts, currants, flame-tinted grapes, pretty flowers and piles of golden chanterelles. // Cartier-Bresson exhibit at the Musee d'Art Modern // Planet Parr exhibit at Jeu De Paume. // Picnic lunch & people watching at the Luxembourg Gardens. // Good pizza with arugula, frosty beer, and friendly service at La Briciola in the Marais. // Browsing hundreds of stalls of books, chandeliers, and vintage wares at the Sunday flea markets in Clignancourt - I should also mention we had a tasty Breton-style buckwheat crepe with egg and a bit of cheese, just down the road a few steps from the market Dauphine stalls. Highly recommended if you need a quick bit of shopping sustenance. // Stopped into Mariage Freres for a few tea-related gifts. // Best fallafel sandwich ever at L'as du Fallafel in Le Marais - enjoyed while standing in a nearby doorway. // Best espresso we had in Paris was close to L'as du Fallafel at Pozzetto (great pistachio gelato too). // Seeing Matisse's Nu aux oranges at the Centre Pompidou, then snapping pics of the Paris rooftops from the escalator and finishing things off with a visit to the easy-to-miss Atelier Brancusi down below. // Walking the city with David was a real treat- bought some rosemary flecked fougasse and pain à l'ancienne at Du Pain et des Idées. Dinner was at Le Verre Volle, a charming little spot with a handful of tables - just my speed. Plenty of seasonal deliciousness, cheese, and wine all around. You can pull bottles from the wall and drink them with dinner, or purchase them to go instead. // We browsed lots of bookstores including: La Chambre Claire, Librarie La Hune, and WHSmith.

There was macaroon sampling at Gérard Mulot, and Ladurée Royale. // Nice paper products - notebooks, clipboards, stationary and the like at Papier+ and Calligrane. // Browsed the quiche pans and copper pots at E.Dehillerin. // Walked up to the middle platform of the Eiffel Tower. // Had a simple and perfect "formula" lunch at Cuisine de Bar - your choice of tartine, salade du jour, and glass of chardonnay. Then next door to Poilâne. // Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson for August Sander exhibit. // Gift shopping at Ets Lion in Montmartre. // Gruyere buckwheat crepe with mushrooms, a drizzle of cream, and a pinch of Espelette pepper at Breizh Cafe (reservations required!) // Seeing Monet's Water Lilies (Nympheas) at the Musee de l'Orangerie, then later in the week, a day trip by train to Giverny to see his actual gardens. I can imagine during peak season this could be a mobbed, touristy nightmare, but we enjoyed ourselves. The village wasn't entirely overrun, and we had lunch at La Terrasse - a cute, little unassuming place with a menu of good ciders, crepe, and tarts. // Loved the Degas paintings upstairs at the Musée d'Orsay, a few rooms down from the Van Gogh crowds. // Stumbled on Kitchen while walking around one day - good, healthy eats. You choose from a board listing a daily juice, soup, salad, sandwich, stew, etc. We shared a 9-inch avocado futomaki roll, a simple sandwich, and a lentil and rice "stew" with roasted vegetables. Hit the spot. // Stocked up on easy-to-pack food items like spice blends, salts, mustards and sugars they don't have at home at La Grande Epicerie. // The Ferdinando Scianna and Ara Güler exhibits at the Museum Maison Europeenne de la photographie. // Queueing up at Berthillon for a nice custardy scoop of vanilla. // Diving into a jar labeled "prune sauvage", a treat from David. Limited edition, made from wild plums - it was the prettiest shade of rose, not too sweet, with a whisper of acidity, and a hint of floral in it.

What an amazing city, I felt like I could be there a year and barely put a dent in it. There was so much to see, people in the streets all the time - I feel lucky to have been able to spend that much time there. Thanks to all of you who offered up suggestions and stories about your experiences in Paris. Between you and Clotilde, and David, and Dorie (who I just missed by a couple days!), I felt like I had a thousand little angels whispering in my ear.

- A google map of all the Paris highlights.

Let me back up and tell you a bit about the book overall. It's not flashy. It is photo-free, and printed with gray and purple ink. And yet, this is a book I'm inspired by each time I pull it from my shelf. It is full of sophisticated ideas, techniques, and flavors. Many of the recipes have a little story attached, and each recipe in the book seems to have real intent behind it. Said another way, you get the sense that she felt strongly about every recipe she included.

I was too young to know anything about it at the time, but Karen (along with her husband Len Allison) was the former owner of the three-star New York City restaurant Huberts. She taught at the Culinary Institute of America. The Vegetarian Compass was published posthumously after her death from breast cancer in 1997. Josh Wesson was a young sommelier at Hubert's in the 80's and is quoted in Karen's obituary saying,

''Before there was a Greenmarket, there was Karen Hubert and Len Allison seeking out little growers and artisanal makers of cheese and bringing them down to this restaurant.''

Clearly she was ahead of her time. I could go on quite a bit more, but mostly I just wanted you to know that I find inspiration in this book - and I thought it would be nice if Karen's recipes and ideas lived on in more kitchens. If you see a copy in a second-hand store, be sure to spend some time with it.

I've adapted today's recipe from the Acorn Squash filled with Corn Pudding in The Vegetarian Compass. It involved roasting, making a filling, filling the squash, and roasting some more. If you don't have an hour and a half to dedicate to roasting, here's an alternative approach that came to mind as I was making it. Roast the squash until it is cooked through and beginning to brown a bit on top. Then sprinkle each half with grated white cheddar cheese and use the broiler to brown the cheese on top. Serve topped with hot, buttered corn and some scallions and/or herbs.

I used an acorn squash here, but you can experiment with other types of squash if you like. And if aniseed and scallions aren't your thing, you might try do a version swapping in coconut milk and a bit of curry paste - and perhaps a cilantro drizzle?

Also, (important!) depending on the size of your squash you might have quite a bit of filling leftover - I ended up with double the amount I needed. That being said, I kept Karen's original milk/egg ratio intact here. I poured my leftovers into a buttered ramekin and baked that alongside the squash for a nice, light corn-flecked pudding. Or alternately, you might use a second squash.

1 small (2 lb.) acorn squash, cut in half lengthwise and seeded
1 tablespoon clarified butter or olive oil
1 cup milk
1 egg plus 2 egg whites
1/2 cup fresh corn kernels (or more if you like)
1/4 teaspoon anise seed, chopped
1/2 cup chopped scallions
a tiny pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
1/3 cup grated white cheddar cheese

Preheat the oven to 375F degrees with a rack in the middle.

Rub the orange flesh of the squash with the butter/oil. Place cut side up on a baking sheet. You will want it to sit flat (and not tip), if you are having trouble just level out the bottom using a knife. If the squash is tilting on the pan, the filling will run out - bad news. Cover the squash with foil and bake for 40 minutes or until the squash starts to get tender.

In a bowl combine the milk, eggs, corn, anise seed, half of the scallions, nutmeg, and salt. Fill each of the squash bowls 3/4 full (see head notes about using leftovers). Carefully transfer the squash back to the oven without spilling (tricky!). Continue baking uncovered for another 30 - 50 minutes, or until the squash is fully cooked through, and the pudding has set. The amount of time it takes can vary wildly depending on the squash and oven. At the last minute sprinkle with cheese and finish with a flash under the broiler to brown the cheese. Keep and eye on things, you can go from melted cheese to burnt and inedible in a flash. Serve hot sprinkled with the remaining scallions.

Serves 4 - 6.

I used canned pineapple here along with the juice from the can, if you have access to good, fresh pineapple I encourage you to use that in the dressing. Like all fruit, pineapples have varying degrees of sweetness, so keep that in mind as you are making the dressing. Tweak it a bit here and there until it is to your liking. I like dressings for starchy salads to have a bit of strength and assertiveness - they get absorbed, and you don't want their flavors to get lost in the rice (or say, pasta).

If you're looking for alternate ways to play with these ingredients, I should also mention I did an egg-fried rice version of this with the leftovers that really hit the spot. Whipped up an extra thin two-egg omelette, chopped and added it to the skillet of pineapple rice that was re-heating. My kind of lunch.

You can use extra-virgin coconut oil in the dressing instead of the macadamia, olive or sunflower oils if you like. In fact, it's a great choice, particularly if you'll be serving the rice hot. It solidifies at room temperature. Follow the same instructions, just don't be alarmed by the white flecks in the dressing after you puree it. They will disappear upon heating.

1/3 cup macadamia oil, olive oil, or sunflower oil
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1/4 cup (fresh or canned) all-natural 100% pineapple juice
1 garlic clove
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons soy sauce (or shoyu)
1 cup pineapple, cut into chunks
2 teaspoons freshly grated ginger
1/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

4 handfuls of mizuna, watercress, or arugula

2 1/2 cups cooked brown rice, room temperature
4 green onions, thinly sliced
3 shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
1 cup cashews, roasted/toasted and chopped
1/2 small serrano chile, seeded and deveined, and minced (optional)
4 ounces seitan, cut into little bits and pan-fried (optional)

Start by making the dressing. Combine the oil, sesame oil, pineapple juice, garlic, red pepper flakes, soy sauce, fresh pineapple, ginger, and salt in a blender or food processor. Puree until smooth. Transfer to a small saucepan, and gently warm just before serving, don't simmer or boil.

In an extra-large bowl toss the mizuna with a generous splash of the dressing. Arrange it on a platter (as a bed for the rice)

You can serve the rice portion of this recipe room temperature or hot - Wayne really loved the hot version, and so did I. In the same bowl you used to toss the greens, or in an extra large skillet over medium heat, combine the rice, most of the onions, shallots, cashews and serrano chile, and seitan. Add about half of the dressing and toss well. If you are serving the rice hot, saute it in the pan until it is heated throughout. Taste, and adjust with more dressing if needed. Spoon the rice over the greens and finish with any remaining onions, shallots, cashews, and seitan.

Serves 2- 4, main vs. side.

Inspired by and (heavily) adapted from a recipe in the Summer 2009 Edible Hawaiian Islands publication.

When I asked Emi to share a bit about herself she said,"I write for money. I write in Swedish or English, I've written about everything and nothing. I used to write letters to Marc Jacobs. I wrote 400 of them before it finally got to me that perhaps he wasn't reading. I love writing, reading and eating, kids, fall, red wine, Scrabble and mummies."

EMI'S COOKING STYLE (in her own words):

I don't really know how it happened, but I've almost quit cooking altogether. Instead I've turned into a female version of a 50's man who comes home and asks "what's for dinner, honey?" Luckily for me, my man cooks great meals. He's a dedicated runner and needs to eat well so I get to savor lots of vegetables, fish, seeds and an incredible variety of bulgur, quinoa and whole grain rice. I cook for the kids, but it's not very passionate. I've lost interest in cooking, but not in eating. I often have a bowl of yogurt while I read about fantastic food and amazing meals. It sounds sad, but it's 100% pleasure. I may be a lousy cook, but I'm a voracious reader. I have a big collection of loved cookbooks that I keep in a special cabinet in the kitchen. I'm a happy eater and will gratefully eat whatever you serve me. Once, a potential mother-in-law served me kidney and very little else. It was the first time I ate at her house, and it felt like a test. I think I passed, because I ate it all and held conversation going. Unfortunately her son didn't pass my own test, but that's a different story.

FAVORITE COOKBOOKS (the ones Emi turns to most often for inspiration):

I use cookbooks to dream, not really to cook, but if you want to dream with me I can recommend Susur-A culinary life by Susur Lee because the level of his cooking is so advanced it's like art.

I also often look to my grandma's vintage Betty Crocker to travel back in time - I'm so happy I'm not the one who has to stand there in her apron serving up casseroles to a man whose profession and pay I'm jealous of. Likewise, I turn to The Fine Arts Cookbook II cause I love the introductions to the dishes. Blizzard Soup "First made during blizzard of '78; make it when you have pork shoulder and put away for the next snowstorm." Thank you Mrs. Marsden P. Earle of the Ladies Committee, the next time I have pork shoulder, I will! And because it offers so much more than just recipes, I love reading Claudia Roden's The Book of Jewish Food: An Odyssey from Samarkand to New York. It has history, anecdotes, food and a few great jokes thrown it. I also like The Farmhouse Cookbook because the author seems so pleasant and her travels across the states to find great produce gives you the nice opportunity to read about a kind of farming that you wouldn't think existed anymore.

Other times, I buy and judge books by their covers. That's the reason I bought Breakfast, Lunch, Tea: The Many Little Meals of Rose Bakery by Rose Carrarini. It's the fastest and easiest trip to Paris I've heard of. Prettiness is also the reason I bought the tempting Made in Italy, a purchase I've never regretted. It stands next to Silver Spoon which I hear is THE book if you're about to cook yourself a great Italian meal, which I hope someone I know will do for me soon!

I sometimes buy books on food just because of their titles. I mean, who can resist a book called Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant - Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone?

And since I'm more interested in the enjoyment of food (and the kind of social interactions that go so well with food), I love books on food that go beyond mere preparation. If you're like me in that aspect, dive into The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook, any of Ruth Reichl's foodie memoirs, or Alan Richman's book Fork It Over: The Intrepid Adventures of a Professional Eater.

Related links:

- Like to jog? Click here if you also want to Run with E. It's a lot of fun, Emi sets up challenges, does interviews - people from all over the world run with Emi.
- Emi's site: Letters from the End Consumer

They are made with crisp brown rice cereal (available at many natural foods stores) mixed into a hot, decadent peanut butter maple syrup sludge. I did this version with lots of chopped, toasted pistachios throughout. Also, instead of cutting them into bars, I pressed them into wrapper-lined muffin tins.

You can serve these guys to mixed crowds too. Vegans, vegetarians, and people who avoid gelatin like them in part because I don't call for marshmallows (which often contain gelatin). Instead I use a slightly obscure natural ingredient called agar agar flakes. It's a sea vegetable that you can use to thicken puddings, custards, or in this case to give the peanut butter and maple syrup mixture some binding power. You can find the flakes in many natural food stores.

We have a layover in Chicago, and I'm going to keep these right near the top of my carry-on, for convenient snacking. And no worries - while I'm gone, I'm not abandoning the site altogether. I have a couple recipes waiting on the server to share, and a new favorite cookbook list from a friend in Sweden. Hopefully that'll be enough to keep things lively around here until I get home. If you have any advice, tips, or places not to miss in Paris or Madrid, my thanks in advance. I have quite a list going for both cities, but some of my favorite spots from our trip to Tokyo were ones you suggested! xo -h

Be sure to use crisp brown rice cereal and not puffed rice cereal.

3/4 cup unsalted peanut butter
3/4 cup maple syrup
1 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt

2 1/2 teaspoons agar agar flakes (available at a health foods store)

4 cups unsweetened (or lightly sweetened) crisp brown rice cereal


3/4 cup pistachios, toasted and chopped

Line two muffin tins with about 18 muffin/cupcake wrappers, and set aside.

Combine the peanut butter, maple syrup, salt, and agar flakes in a large saucepan over low heat and stir constantly until smooth, hot, melted, and bubbling just a bit. Add the cereal and 1/2 cup of the pistachios and stir until well coated. Spoon two heaping tablespoons of the mixture into each muffin wrapper and press into place with the back of a spoon. Alternately, if you want krispy squares, you can transfer it to an 8 by 8-inch baking dish. Sprinkle with the remaining pistachios and refrigerate until completely cool (this also helps the agar set).

Makes about 1 1/2 dozen treats.

If you don't have quinoa, you can certainly swap in a pasta or any number of other foundation ingredients. Farro would be nice, millet might work, barley, pearled barley, or even your favorite brown rice. If you're in the mood for something a bit more substantial - let's say for dinner or something - I do different versions. Sometimes I serve the broccoli quinoa over an omelette, other times I might have it with a poached egg on top. Or I might toss in some baked tofu, or pan-fried tempeh. It's hard to screw up.

I should mention that I do like this served with a bit of feta crumbled on top. I wrote that into the recipe as (optional), but if you've got some feta on hand (or goat cheese), go for it. For easy left-overs I make extra quantities of each of the main components, and use them throughout the week - the broccoli pesto, chile oil, quinoa (you can freeze it if you don't use it).

3 cups cooked quinoa*
5 cups raw broccoli, cut into small florets and stems

3 medium garlic cloves
2/3 cup sliced or slivered almonds, toasted
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan
2 big pinches salt
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup heavy cream

Optional toppings: slivered basil, fire oil (optional)**, sliced avocado
crumbled feta or goat cheese

Heat the quinoa and set aside.

Now barely cook the broccoli by pouring 3/4 cup water into a large pot and bringing it to a simmer. Add a big pinch of salt and stir in the broccoli. Cover and cook for a minute, just long enough to take the raw edge off. Transfer the broccoli to a strainer and run under cold water until it stops cooking. Set aside.

To make the broccoli pesto puree two cups of the cooked broccoli, the garlic, 1/2 cup of the almonds, Parmesan, salt, and lemon juice in a food processor. Drizzle in the olive oil and cream and pulse until smooth.

Just before serving, toss the quinoa and remaining broccoli florets with about 1/2 of the broccoli pesto. Taste and adjust if needed, you might want to add more of the pest a bit at a time, or you might want a bit more salt or an added squeeze of lemon juice. Turn out onto a serving platter and top with the remaining almonds, a drizzle of the chile oil, and some sliced avocado or any of the other optional toppings.

Serves 4 - 6.

*To cook quinoa: rinse one cup of quinoa in a fine-meshed strainer. In a medium saucepan heat the quinoa, two cups of water (or broth if you like), and a few big pinches of salt until boiling. Reduce heat and simmer until water is absorbed and quinoa fluffs up, about 15 minutes. Quinoa is done when you can see the curlique in each grain, and it is tender with a bit of pop to each bite. Drain any extra water and set aside.

**To make the red chile oil: You'll need 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil and 1 1/2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes. If you can, make the chile oil a day or so ahead of time by heating the olive oil in a small saucepan for a couple minutes - until it is about as hot as you would need it to saute some onions, but not so hot that it smokes or smells acrid or burned. Turn off the heat and stir in the crushed red pepper flakes. Set aside and let cool, then store in refrigerator. Bring to room temp again before using.