A bit of an aside, I picked up Lora's book while browsing the cooking section at the library down the street from me the other day. I had a bit of a mini-celebration right there on the spot. I had this book years ago, and must have lost it or loaned it to someone. Anyhow, it was like running into an old friend, and I was happy to be reacquainted.

I should also mention, before we move on to the recipe, Lora's tomato and potato curry recipe is part of one of the most interesting Thanksgiving menus I've come across. Each time I read through it I promise myself I'm going to lobby my family to tackle it one year. There's plenty for a mixed crowd - vegetarians, vegans, the whole lot. The only dish inherently meat-centric is the turkey. Here's the menu: Roasted Turkey with Tandori Spices, Roasted Hubbard Squash Wedges with Garam Masala, Basmati Rice with Saffron and Cloves, Red Lentils with Tamarind and Dates, Potatoes with Tomato Curry, Creamed Spinach with Cardamom and Shiitake Duxelle, Steamed Brussels Sprouts with Ghee and Sea Salt, Cranberry and Ginger Chutney, Mint and Chile Raita, Clover Rolls with Rosemary, Pumpkin and Arborio Rice Pudding, and Shrikand (a creamy yogurt dessert) with Fresh Pomegranate Seeds.

For those of you who are interested, you can keep up with Lora through her Los Angeles Times Magazine blog, I'm Still Hungry, or at her personal site, A Hungry Girl, where she is just starting to document her new life as a baker.

I hope you give the recipe a try, particularly those of you who aren't so sure about tempeh. I swear, it's just the thing to go along with the sun that has been setting early, and the colder nights as well. Have a glance at the head notes before you jump in though, there are a few things to consider before you start. I should also add, if you're in a pinch time-wise, cauliflower might be a perfect, quick-to-cook alternative to potatoes.

This curry has a bit of kick to it - so if you're cooking for a spice-sensitive crowd, scale back a bit - and season to taste at the end. Also, the recipe has you steam the potatoes. I couldn't find my big metal steamer, so I rigged one using a metal strainer suspended over a large pasta pot with a lid on. There was a bit of a gap, and it probably took longer than it would have otherwise, but it worked. A pasta pot insert would work too. In the end, the potatoes just need to be cooked, so you could boil them or even roast them (oven at 375F) - both slightly different approaches, but fine workarounds. As far as the cooking fats go, if you like to cook with ghee or clarified butter, you can substitute that, or even coconut oil.

1 1/2 pounds small waxy potatoes no bigger than a small lime, halved
2 teaspoons fine-grain sea salt

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and chopped
1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds
1 teaspoon curry powder
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
scant 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 cup canned diced tomatoes
3/4 cup water
splash of cream or a dollop of creme fraiche

8 ounces tempeh, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
a small handful of cilantro, loosely chopped

Bring a few inches of water to boil in a large pot. Place the potatoes in a steamer (see head notes), sprinkle with 1 teaspoon of the salt and cook until tender throughout - about 20 - 30 minutes, depending on how large your potato pieces are.

In the meantime, in a large skillet, melt the butter in the olive oil, add the onion and cook over LOW heat until they are soft, about 5 minutes. Stir in the cumin seeds, curry powder, turmeric, and cayenne pepper, wait about thirty seconds, then stir in the tomatoes, water, and the other teaspoon of salt. Remove from heat, stir in the cream and blend with a hand blender - (or leave it unpureed if you like!). Note: you might need to transfer it to a bowl to puree, then return it to the skillet.

Once the curry is back in the pan, add the tempeh and bring barely to a simmer. Let the tempeh cook for 5 minutes or so, then add the potatoes when they are finished steaming. Transfer to a large family-style bowl, and sprinkle with cilantro before serving.

Serves 4 - 6.

This recipe was inspired by the Potato with Tomato Curry recipe in Lora Zarubin's I Am Almost Always Hungry. Published by Stewart, Tabori and Chang in 2003.

They were good later too though. I nibbled at a golden corner of one of the scones a couple hours after they came out of the oven, then four hours later, then six - they seemed to be improving with age.

In fact I wish I had one right now. In hindsight, I should have frozen some of the dough, then baked them off a few at a time.

I'm so looking forward to trying more from Romney's new book, she includes an eclectic mix of recipes including the full range of mains, soups, side salads. But it's the sweets and breakfast recipes that I suspect will make an appearance in my kitchen in the near future - the wheat germ buttermilk hotcakes, persimmon pudding cake, and the triple berry pie.

If you haven't seen the book yet, look around for it. I think it's just starting to show up in stores. It's just the sort of cookbook that takes you to another place and time - beautifully designed and photographed, and the story she tells of her life and legacy at Nepenthe in Big Sur is very special. For those of you who love the Tessa Kiros cookbooks, aesthetically this book is similar in spirit.

I made a few tweaks to Romney's original recipe, and they are reflected below. I use whole wheat pastry flour here, but you can use unbleached all-purpose flour, or a blend of both if you like. This version of the recipe makes 8-10 huge scones. The next time I make these I'll likely pat the dough into two 4-inch rounds and cut each of those into 6-8 smaller scones before baking.

3 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1/2 cup turbinado sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup (2 sticks) cold butter, cut into small pieces
2 cups rolled oats
zest of 1 orange
1 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup coarse turbinado or Demerara sugar, for sprinkling
2/3 cup dried currants

Preheat the oven to 350F degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Combine the flour, 1/2 cup of turbinado sugar, baking powder, and baking soda in the bowl of a food processor. Add the butter and pulse 15-20 times or until it looks like sandy pearls. (If you are working by hand, cut the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter.) Transfer the dough to a bowl and stir in the oats and zest. Stir in the buttermilk and currants until just moistened.

Bring the dough together with your hands. If the dough is still too crumbly, stir in more buttermilk a tiny splash at a time, but try to avoid over mixing. After bringing the dough together, gently pat it into an 8-inch round. Cut into triangle shapes (see photo) and transfer to the prepared baking sheet with some room between each scone. Sprinkle the tops with coarse sugar. Bake for 12 to 15 minute or until the bottoms are deeply golden.

Makes 8 extra-large scones, or 12 to 16 larger ones.

This recipe was adapted from My Nepenthe by Romney Steele. Published by Andrews McMeel Publishing, November 2009.

I suspect many of you have read articles written by Harris, he writes for some of the big guns -- The New York Times, Saveur, Gourmet until recently, and Salon. One of his beats is Japanese cuisine. He travels there regularly and has trained in Japanese restaurant kitchens in New York and Tokyo. On top of his freelance writing, he also co-authored both Takashi's Noodles and Japanese Hot Pots. You can see him in that photo up above, to the right of Chef Tadashi Ono and Chef Hisao Nakahigashi of Kyoto (center). I'm excited he has agreed to share a few of his favorite cookbooks with us.

HARRIS'S COOKING STYLE:

I love clean, simple cooking, one that relies on the natural flavor of ingredients, doesn't stray too far from a food's natural state, and is anything but fussy. Hmm, sounds familiar--oh yeah, that's what Japanese cuisine is all about, the subject of my writing for the past several years. I was so surprised by this chow when I first traveled to Japan a decade ago. Up to then, all I knew was sushi and ramen. But on that trip, I discovered in the cooking an intense seasonality, an incredible variety of dishes and a delightful spontaneity. From rarified to down-home, I found the food was more about subtraction then addition, that is, more about getting to the intrinsic sense of something rather than building it up with fats, herbs and spices. I loved that in the cuisine, and was hooked. Since that first foray to Japan, I've been working to perfect my Japanese cooking. But I appreciate other ingredient-driven cuisines, too, especially Southern Mediterranean and Middle Eastern food, and prepare them, too. Here are some of the cookbooks that have influenced me:

- A Return to Cooking, by Eric Ripert and Michael Ruhlman. Sadly the hardback is out of print, this beautiful cookbook was designed by the incredibly talented Cliff Morgan, a dear friend who tragically passed away a few years ago. I remember Cliff, a fabulous cook, telling me how much he learned from this book, and when I picked it up, I understood what he meant. With disquisitions into things like poaching, shallots and ambient heat, it taught me fundamental concepts that helped me understand how to really cook, not just follow recipes. (update 11/12: There is a recently released paperback of A Return to Cooking available.

- The Zuni Café Cookbook by Judy Rogers is another hefty culinary education. Judy taught me a ton about how to buy ingredients, tasting, finding flavor and salting. I think about her words on "salting early" whenever I cook Japanese cuisine, which, like Judy's Mediterranean food, often relies on the incredible curing power of the only rock humans regularly digest. Her recipes are amazing, too.

- I can't remember where I found Moro: The Cookbook, considering it was never released in America (the companion Casa Moro was, you can now find both online). It's the cookbook of a restaurant in London called Moro that takes inspiration from the Muslim Mediterranean (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria) and Moorish-influenced Spanish cooking. I really enjoy cooking from this book, full of simple, beautiful recipes, especially for vegetables, with dishes like eggplant and red pepper salad, beet soup with black cumin and broad bean and dill pilaf. My copy is delightfully stained and water-logged from so much service in the kitchen.

- The Book of Jewish Food covers the Jewish diaspora of Europe, North Africa and the Middle East but in its heart of hearts it's a book about Sephardic cooking--food of the Jews outside Europe (the author, Claudia Roden was born in Cairo). I dig the flavors Roden introduces in this book, dishes infused with pomegranate, sumac, tamarind and saffron, and her forays into the distinct food culture of various Jewish communities is fascinating.

- So what about Japanese cuisine? For me, my schooling in Japanese food has been mostly hands-on, but I often turn to Elizabeth Andoh's Washoku. Elizabeth is an incredible authority on Japanese food who has taught me so much. Her book is an accessible reference that demystifies Japanese ingredients and techniques and introduces lots of great home cooking recipes. I also found a book published in England called Dashi and Umami that really helped me understand underlying principles of Japanese cooking, especially its reliance on umami, or a sense of savoriness. And finally, I discovered Traditional Japanese Recipe Book with English Translation this spring in a bookstore in Tokyo and it rocks! The translation can be shaky at times but book offers a trove of classic dishes and also gets into practical theory, too, offering insights into knives and knife skills, stocks, Japanese seasonings, how to use salt and much more. Try to get your hands on it, if you can.

More Harris:

- Harris's Books: Japanese Hot Pots with Chef Tadashi Ono of Matsuri restaurant in New York, and Takashi's Noodles with Chef Takashi Yagihashi of Chicago.

- Harris's blog: The Japanese Food Report

- Japanese Food Report on Facebook, and Harris on Twitter. If you follow him on Twitter, he'll notify you when/where he is teaching his next workshop, publishing new articles, etc .

Lead photo by Tokyo-based photographer Jun Takagi.

I got an early start, and in the morning 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.