The one thing I would take over dessert...

George Clooney counts as edible, right?


I'm adding this to the list of reasons why I love my job... ;) Just about every single woman in my building ran down to meet him (camera phones in hand). Even Oprah's Best Friend Gayle came down! He waved and smiled and chatted with us. We squealed and sighed and flashed our Treos at him. Ahhh... ::swoon::

Mexican Lime Soup (with Spinach)

So the plan today was to wake up early and head down to Union Square to see what's available at the green market. Things didn't quite work out the way they were supposed to though, and the day slipped by rather suddenly. I soon found myself sitting in a darkened living room as the sun slowly disappeared, a low growl in my stomach serving as a reminder that I hadn't eaten all day.

I wandered into the kitchen to make something, but opening the fridge proved disheartening; it's been a while since I've done any proper shopping. An odd mishmash of condiments, a few limes, a head of garlic, and one pack of spinach was about all I had inside. I toyed with the idea of ordering something in, but then I took another look. Though it didn't seem like much, I realized that I had more than enough for a delicious and filling soup.

What I made is a quick variation of the Yucatan soup known as Sopa de Lima, traditionally made with chicken parts and served with tortillas. I started with a wonderfully flavored chicken stock that I had frozen in cubes in the freezer, however in a pinch some canned stock or bouillon will also work. If I'd had fresh cilantro, I would have added that too, but I found that the dried coriander worked just as well, lending the soup another layer of citrusy aroma. The brightness of the limes pairs unexpectedly well with the earthy bitterness of the spinach. A few dried chilis, plus a drop of chili oil, added just enough heat, and some smoky cumin rounded out the flavors.

Ladeled into my favorite (and slightly chipped) terracotta bowl, it was a perfect light supper. The only thing missing was some fresh avocado and a sprinkle of cotija cheese. Next time, definitely!
Here's the recipe, just in time for Cinco de Mayo!

P.S. Remember there is still time to get your orders in for Mother's Day cookie and tea cake gift boxes! Click here for details.

Mexican Lime Soup (with Spinach)

6 cups of chicken broth
1 tablespoon of olive oil
12 oz spinach (preferably fresh, but frozen will do!)
1 lime, juiced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
3 dried chilis
A dash of chili oil (optional)
salt
pepper

1.) Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot. Add the dried chilis, cumin, and coriander, and let cook in the oil for a minute to release the aromas of the spices.

2.) Pour in the 6 cups of chicken stock and bring to a boil.

3.) Add the spinach and cook for about two minutes.

4.) Add the lime juice, salt, pepper, and chili oil (if desired). Adjust the seasoning to your taste.

Serve with additional lime slices or fresh cotija cheese and cilantro, if desired.

Cravings: Multi-Grain Bagels

My coworkers all seem to think that I'm a bit of a masochist. They don't really understand how I manage to bake as much as I do without ever giving in to the temptation to gobble it all up. Ever since I launched my virtual bakery, I've had to up my weekly baking to about 4 or 5 times a week, depending on how many orders I have. My apartment has taken on a perpetual aroma of almonds and vanilla that has seeped into just about everything I own. Walking home from dinner with a friend the other night, I laughed when he leaned in to sniff my shoulder.

"You know," he said completely matter-of-factly, "you always seem to smell like marzipan."

I admit that it can be a bit difficult sometimes. The rainbow cookies are, after all, my favorite. This is why I first started making them, and why I still enjoy baking batch after batch, but it can also make it very hard to resist sneaking a bite every now and then. Fortunately I've gotten my measurements exactly to the point where I can't afford to sneak a cookie when preparing my orders. No extras equals no nibbling, which works just fine for me.

I do, however, occasionally crave a bite of something chewy and just a little bit sweet. I'm not really satisfied with the "low-carb" treats found in the grocery store and so I make my own. Pannacotta is my favorite no-guilt treat, but I've also developed quite a few flourless recipes too. One thing that I've really been missing is bagels. I'm a Jersey girl, which means every Sunday we would stop at the bagel store on the way home from church and pick up a giant paper bag full of them (plus assorted schmears and fillings--lox & cream cheese being my favorite.) My dad and brother ate them as a side along with eggs and bacon, but I was happy with just a bagel loaded up with creamy spread, red onions, lettuce, and salty pieces of lox. It's my favorite breakfast and I've been missing it big-time, so I decided to do something about it. I set out to create my own healthy (and hearty) bagel recipe using whole grains. I admit that it's not exactly a low carb bagel recipe (ok, it's not low carb at all), but the high fiber and slowly digesting whole grains make it a much healthier option than the the regular refined flour bagels that spike my blood sugar and send me dizzy and sleepy to bed.

I brought some of these in to work not long ago and my coworkers remarked that they were good and "tasted healthy." "It's like I'm doing something good," one of the editors noted as she chomped away.

If you don't plan on eating all of these at once, I suggest slicing in half and freezing in individual sealed freezer bags. You can then defrost them in the toaster or the oven. Whatever you do, DON'T microwave them. That is NO way to treat a bagel... ;)

Not Quite Low-Carb Multi-Grain Bagels

3 cups of warm water
3 tbsps of honey
2 packages of yeast
1 teaspoon of salt
5.5 cups of whole wheat bread flour
1.5 cup regular bread flour (I used King Arthur European-Style Artisan)
.5 cups grain blend (such as King Arthur's Harvest Grain Blend)

For optional toppings:
1 egg
1/4 cup unprocessed bran (also known as "miller's bran")
kosher salt


1.) Mix the warm water, honey, and yeast in the bowl of your mixer. Let sit for about 10 minutes until the yeast is frothy.

2.) In a separate bowl, mix the flours and grain blend (not the bran). Add the salt.

3.) Slowly add the flour to the yeast mixture and process with the dough hook attachment. Let knead for about 10 minutes.

4.) Remove from mixer and turn over onto a floured surface. Knead by hand for an additional minute or two until well combined.

5.) Place in a greased bowl (I used olive oil), turning to make sure the entire ball of dough is covered in oil. Cover loosely with oiled plastic wrap and a clean damp towel. Set aside for one hour to rise.

6.) Bring a large pot of water to boil. Add 2 tablespoons of sugar to the water. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees

7.) Punch down the dough and divide into about 18 equal-sized pieces. Shape into a bagel shape by either rolling into a snake and connecting at ends OR (my preferred method) rolling into a ball and then using your fingers to poke through a hole.

8.) Lay the shaped bagels out on a greased cookie sheet and let rise again for about 20 minutes until the bagels are plump.

9.) GENTLY lift each bagel and drop into the water two or three at a time

10.) Boil for no more than two minutes each and then remove with a slotted spoon to a new greased cookie sheet

11.) Once all the bagels have been boiled, you have the option to top if desired. I brushed them with an egg wash made of the egg and a few tablespoons of warm water, then sprinkled with kosher salt and unprocessed bran.

12.) Bake in pre-heated oven for about 20 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy!

Night of the Living Dead Camera

Jaden at Steamy Kitchen recently wrote a clever post about her so-called "ghetto photography studio." She invited the rest of us food bloggers to post photos of our own "studios" to show where our magic happens. I don't really have a studio. I usually just set up camp near the kitchen or living room window and snap away. At night I go into my library which has oddly good lighting, probably due to the bright yellow walls.

I think it's a good time, however, to share with you the truth behind my mediocre food photos. That, of course, would be my camera. A Canon PowerShot SD400. This is not your average camera, mind you. Oh no, this is the most ridiculous camera ever! Seriously, it defies all the laws of nature.

Basically, my camera is a zombie. It died months ago and yet continues to roam the earth (or my kitchen). The LCD is shattered internally (that exciting explosion image is not an image--it's my screen). This happened months ago for reasons I've yet to determine. The camera was safely tucked in the case inside my purse so I'm still not quite sure how it happened. This means that not only can I not see what I'm shooting, I also can't adjust anything.

So how do I take such fabulously mediocre shots with such a brokedown camera?

Ahh...it's all in the wrist, my friends. I've developed a highly scientific method for shooting my food. It consists of me (food blogger & cook extraordinaire) pointing my zombie camera in the general direction of the nicely arranged plate and doing something that I like to call "randomly pressing all the buttons." I basically just push the setting buttons randomly and alternate with taking shots.

Some come out with flash, some without, some are bright pink, some are blurry, some are macro, some completely miss the plate. I'll take about 40 to 60 shots for everything I make and cross my fingers that one or two will come out. A tweak or two in Photoshop and voila! Wonderfully mediocre photography for you all to enjoy!

I do plan on buying another camera soon, but I don't want to get another point & shoot. I want a proper slr, but am going to have to wait until I can afford to spend a bundle on the one that I want. Until then, zombie camera it is!

(Unless a generous soul among you has slightly less pathetic used camera you'd like to donate or sell to your favorite food blogger? I'm willing to pay you back with endless batches of homebaked treats... ;)

Coconut Flour Pancakes w/ Lemon Curd and Blackberries

There really isn't a story for this one. More like a craving--an intense morning craving for something sweet and carb-y. I've been relying heavily on eggs and sausage, which as incredible as they are, can really do a girl in after so long. But I was good, and though there are bags and bags of flour in my freezer, I resisted and decided to whip up a little something delicious and still low-carb friendly.

The coconut flour makes a reappearance here. I realize that I've been using it in just about everything lately, but I hope you don't mind. It really is the most incredible, versatile (and delicious!) ingredient I've discovered this year. My friend Lindsay was visiting the weekend I made these pancakes and I spent all weekend expounding on the marvels of it. The morning before her flight, I enthusiastically pressed an unopened bag of coconut flour into her hands as a parting gift of sorts.

This recipe is incredibly quick and easy to make, but be warned that these are not the pretty perfect pancakes you might be used to. They're slightly odd shaped and no matter how neatly you pore the batter in, the coconut has a tendency to spread and crinkle at the edges. It toasts quickly, too, so keep your eye on it. Feel free to experiment with extracts for flavoring. When I made these for myself I sweetened the batter with Splenda, but skipped it for Lindsay's benefit as she's quite sensitive to the aftertaste (I don't taste it, but I'm sure that's because I've been using it for so many years now).

I topped mine with homemade lemon curd (another recent obsession) and a few fresh blackberries, but they're also lovely with syrup or even just a bit of butter.

The lemon curd recipe I used is a modification of Alton Brown's but made with Meyer lemons plus the addition of a bit of cream at the end for a slightly paler and thicker curd. Pairs perfectly with blackberries!

Flourless Coconut Pancakes

2 Large Eggs
3/4 cup coconut flour (ground dessicated unsweetened coconut)
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon sugar or Splenda (optional)
2 tablespoons melted butter
1/4 cup heavy cream
A pinch of baking powder
A pinch of salt


1.) Combine the eggs, cream, butter, sugar, and salt in a medium sized bowl.

2.) In a separate bowl, mix the baking powder and coconut flour.

3.) Add the dry ingredients to the wet and mix gently until completely incorporated.

4.) Heat a heavy bottom skillet over medium heat and melt butter.

5.) Spoon batter into skillet one or two at a time. Take care to not let pancakes run into each other. let cook until edges start to frill and brown, then flip gently once and let cook for another minute on other side.

6.) Remove to serving dish and enjoy immediately as you would traditional pancakes.
Note: Leftover pancakes will keep in the fridge if covered with plastic wrap but will lose quite a bit of their "fluffiness." Definitely better if consumed right away.

Makes approximately 8 medium-sized pancakes.

I dare to delay

Due to a slight scheduling conflict, my Daring Bakers April challenge results won't be posted until later this week. My sincere apologies. In the meantime, please enjoy the results from all the other daring bakers who, unlike me, own calendars.

Coconut Lime Torte, Three Ways

The five-pound bags of almond and coconut flour that I purchased recently have been taunting me mercilessly since their arrival. The giant blue and white striped bags have spent the past two weeks sitting in the middle of the coffee table waiting for me to turn them into something lovely. It's been a tough several days, though, and I admit that I've spent most of my evenings battling a case of Holly Golightly's "Mean Reds" that left me kind of teary-eyed and unmotivated to do little else but read recipes and watch movies. And so the bag has sat; frangipane tarts and financier officially on hold.

Until Wednesday. A evening dash to the grocery store to pick up a few staples proved to be just the thing to push me out of the slump. I arrived home, arms loaded down with the weight of my reusable grocery bags when I heard the phone ring. I dove into my purse to find my phone, knocking over a bag of produce in the process. Out rolled a calvacade of artichokes and asparagus followed by a few frisky limes. The limes rolled out across the table in the direction of the flour, where they stopped right at the bag; kelly green rind kissing the bulging bag of almonds. I looked it while I talked, my brain already racing ahead. Within minutes I was in the kitchen grating and mixing and humming the lime in da coconut song that my friend Lindsay used to drive me crazy with in college.

The end result was lovely: a moist, green-flecked cake with subtle hints of lime and coconut. Putting the lime and the coconut together did, in fact, make me feel better! The first night I ate the cake straight, a warm slice right out of the oven. The next day I had a slice for breakfast that tasted even better as the flavors had been given a chance to meld together.

That evening, I stopped by the bodega to pick up some some paper towels when I saw a whole bag of star anise on sale for a dollar. I snatched this up and decided to get creative. In a small saucepot, I mixed half a cup each of coconut milk and cream, and simmered with a few anise stars. I sweetened the cream and poured it over a generous slice of cake. Incredible! The anise brought out the warm, tropical flavors of the cake making for a delicious dessert.

This morning I decided to try the now slightly-stale cake (stale because I was lazy and didn't wrap it properly last night) as French toast! I beat one whole egg with a bit of cream and some cold star anise tea, and soaked the slices before frying in butter. I topped with a drizzle of anise-simmered syrup. Wow! It smelled so good that I didn't have the patience to photograph it properly, so I just dug in.

Coconut Lime Torte

Ingredients:
2 cups almond meal
1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsweetened coconut flour
1/2 cup fresh lime juice (about two limes)
Rind of 1 whole (unwaxed) lime
1 cup sugar or equivalent substitute
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 pinch of salt
6 medium eggs
1/2 cup olive oil

For the glaze:
1 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lime juice
2 tablespoons water



1.Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9" round or springform pan.

2. Combine the nuts, rind, sugar (or substitute), salt, and baking powder in an electric mixer or food processor and pulse a few times until any lumps are broken up.

3. Add the eggs one at a time, followed by the oil and lime juice. Continue to mix at high speed for a couple minutes to work some air into the batter--it should grow in size a bit.

4. Pour into a greased springform pan and place in the oven. The baking time will vary depending on your oven and the humidity in the environment. Start checking it about 30 minutes into baking. It will be ready when a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

5. When ready to glaze, mix the powdered sugar, water, and lime juice together until smooth. Drizzle all over the cake and allow to set. Serve immediately after glazing.

Additional Serving Suggestions:

**Serve day-old cake in "cream" puddle of 1/2 cup coconut milk and 1/2 cup heavy cream simmered for a couple minutes with 4 star anise and 2 teaspoons of sugar.

**Serve slightly stale cake as French toast using a batter of 1 whole egg, 3 tablespoons of heavy cream, and 3 tablespoons of cold-brewed tea (I used leftover black leaf & star anise tea, but feel free to get creative!). Soak a slice in the batter on each side and fry in 1 tablespoon of butter. Serve with warm syrup (simmer with star anise, if desired).

Italian Lessons: Three-Meat Meatloaf Arrabiata

Sergio was short. Handsome, but very short. I didn’t notice this at first, however, as when I met him I was sitting down. By the time I stood up and realized my mistake, it was already too late.

I was at a private club called Lochness located just a few blocks from my Florentine flat. Private clubs are common in Italy, where the "members only" policy allows the bar owners to skirt one (or a dozen) of those complicated Italian government regulations. The term is used casually in this city, though, and I was able to offer un sorriso (a smile) in lieu of the 3 Euro membership fee. I still have my card in my wallet; a green laminated rectangle featuring a cartoonlike image of the famous monster inviting me to “get messy with Nessy.”

The night I’d met Sergio, I’d been stood up by my wonderful, albeit flaky, roommate who’d promised to meet me after running an errand. I quickly realized that errand had turned into a sleepover with the boy she was not-so-secretly shagging, and so I was left alone at the bar chatting with the cute barman who kept generously refilling my wine glass each time the owner looked away. He spoke Spanish and English, but I preferred to use my newly-acquired Italian to chat away about cooking school and living in the city. He convinced me to stay until closing and offered to drive me the few blocks home in his funny-looking little Italian car.

I met him at the bar again the next night(this time in flats)and again the following evening. But I was quickly starting to realize that the problem with dating the bartender is that he can never leave the bar. That, and the fact that a cute bartender fluent in English in study abroad-saturated Florence is never a good idea. After a week or two of copious text messaging and side-street kisses, I arrived a few minutes later than usual one night to find him kissing the neck of a willowy blonde who giggled as she loudly massacred the Italian language. Furious and humiliated, I shot him a look of death and quickly turned to head out the door. He darted past me, blocking my exit, and in a pleading ménage of languages explained that he was just "helping her with her Italian." I stared at him in stony silence, prompting him to ask me nervously:

“Sei arrabiata??”

I laughed despite myself. Though it was a word I’d not yet officially learned, I recognized it from countless dinner menus back home. Arrabiata. I instantly understood the way my feelings at that moment mirrored the fiery, spicy red sauce.

“Si!!” I shouted angrily, as I pushed him out of the way and walked out the door.

That was the end of Sergio, but as it just so happened, arrabiata sauce was on the menu in my class the following week. It was then and still continues to be one of my favorites.

******

This very simple, spicy tomato sauce comes from Rome and is wonderful over pasta for a quick afternoon meal, but I think it is even better over a savory three-meat meatloaf made from pork, veal, and beef (feel free to replace ground Sergio, if you can find it).

You don’t have to be angry to serve this dish; it's a pretty great comfort dish no matter how you feel! But trust me when I say that when you’re mad at a man (or woman), there are few things more satisfying that pounding one’s hands into a large bowl of ground meat.

Arrabiata
You can adjust the spice in this dish by adding more or less red pepper. I, as I'm sure you've guessed, like it hot...

Ingredients
1/4 cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 28 oz canned crushed tomatoes with their juice*
1 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup chicken stock
salt
pepper

*Remember to use canned, not fresh. Tomatoes aren’t in season now so canned is going to taste much better.

1) Place a heavy saucepan over medium –high heat and add the olive oil. Sauté the minced garlic until it starts to turn golden, but not toasted.

2) Add the tomatoes (along with their juice), chicken stock, and pepper flakes to the garlic and reduce your heat slightly. Season with salt and pepper, and allow the tomatoes to cook down for about 30 minutes, until the sauce is thick. Lower the heat if it starts to boil—you want to keep it at a gentle simmer.

3) When the sauce has thickened and the tomatoes have broken down. Turn off the heat and either serve over meat or pasta (or both) or allow to cool before refrigerating

Three-Meat Meatloaf
This is basically a giant meatball for the lazy. Instead of lots of little balls you just shape the meat and bake. The replacement of breadcrumbs with bran and flaxseed dramatically ups the fiber content and lowers the carbohydrates. How perfect is that?!

Ingredients
1/2 cup chicken or beef stock
1 diced medium-sized yellow onion
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 handful of Italian parsley, chopped
1/2 lb ground beef
1/2 lb ground veal
1/2 lb ground pork
1/3 cup course unprocessed bran
3 tablespoons ground flax seed
1 egg
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup Extra Virgin olive oil


1) In a heavy saucepan, heat the olive oil and sauté the onions until transluscent.
2) Add the garlic and cook until golden. Remove from heat and let cool
3) In a food processor, blend together the stock, cooked onions and garlic, parsley, red pepper, and salt.
4) In a separate large bowl, combine the three meats and knead until combined evenly.
5) Pour the stock mixture over the meat and combine well with your hands
6) Add the bran and flax seed and mix in well
7) In a separate bowl, beat the egg slightly and then pour over the meat mixture. Again knead until everything has been distributed evenly.
8) Turn the meat mixture onto a large roasting pan and mold into a loaf in the center, allowing room on all sides.
9) Bake at 450 degrees for approximately 35-40 minutes.
10) Raise the oven to broiler, and broil for an additional 3-5 minutes until the top is golden and develops a nice crust.
11) Remove from oven and let sit for ten minutes before slicing so as to not lose all the juices.

To serve, place a thick slice on a plate topped with a couple heaping tablespoons of the arrabiata sauce. Shave Pecorino cheese on top and garnish with more parsely if desired.

Lunchtime fads, pudding races, and two lucky readers

And the winner of the food excerpt contest is....Ramona Quimby, Age 8!

With an impressive almost-40% of the vote, this one was the clear favorite. I'm willing to bet that this passage won on equal parts nostalgia and writing. The story itself is clever, and something that many of us can easily relate to; grade school fads and trading lunches were a part of just about every one's lives at one point or another.

In seventh grade, my favorite lunch consisted of an onion bagel with cream cheese, a Snickers bar, and a bottle of Orangina. These were purchased from the local bagel store and cost just south of five dollars. My mom would stop the car in front of the shop while my little brother Gab and I would pop in and place our order, grabbing the snacks while the sweet round lady behind the counter (Linda, I believe) would quickly schmear the bagels and divide into two brown paper bags. It was the perfect combination: the sweetness of the chocolate, the saltiness of the cheese, and the fizzy orange beverage.

When I reached high school, I started attending a private catholic prep school about 20 minutes away so we rarely had time to stop anywhere to buy lunch before getting to school on time (this may or may not also have had something to do with my morning hair & make-up routine). With a mom that was just as busy, the idea of "making lunch" never really entered the equation so my dad got into the habit of leaving us each five dollars on the kitchen table for us to buy from the school cafeterias.

I used to consider these five dollars an additional source of income, and would usually opt for a cheap lunch of a 60 cent Snickers from the vending machine (I have a thing for nougat), pocketing the other 4 dollars and 40 cents. When you factored in the 3 dollars my dad also gave me for bus fare (unnecessary as I regularly had a friend drive me home) going to school quickly turned into quite the money-making enterprise.

There were, however, some days when hunger trumped mall cash and so on those days I often indulged in one of two of my favorite menu items: the "hot ham and cheese" on a roll (melty and salty and thoroughly un-nutritious) and "chocolate pudding." Now the chocolate pudding was more of an event than a meal. Best friend Vanessa and I quickly invented a rather absurd game that probably did little to ingratiate us with the "cool kids." It was called "Pudding Races" and it went like this:

1.) Vanessa and I would take turns buying a package of Peanut M&Ms from the vending machine, plus two bowls of pudding (one each).

2.) We would then divide the M&M's equally (about 14 or so each) and mix them into the pudding. These we referred to as "Obstacles."

3.) Next we'd call time and proceed to see how quickly we could shovel down our bowl of pudding and M&Ms (the obstacles there to "slow us down") before the M&Ms started to melt and lose their color in the pudding.

4.) Whoever finished first, won. There was no actual "prize"; just lots of giggles and strange looks from the "normal" girls.

Surprisingly, neither one of us ever choked during these races. Not quite surprisingly, we both had to ask our respective gay best friend to the prom. Related? Perhaps...


*****
I'm contacting the winners of the Italian Rainbow cookie now and once I hear back from both I will post their names. In the meantime, why don't you share some of your grade school lunchtime memories in the comments section?

Time to Vote!

Some really great entries came in for the Italian Rainbow Cookies contest! I wish I could have posted them all, but I had to pick five and here they are. Most of the entrants included a little background info with their excerpts, so I posted a bit of that too for context. Read over the entries, decide on your favorite, and then enter your vote. The excerpt that receives the most votes by the end of the week wins and the person who sent it in will win a batch of cookies. A second winner will be chosen randomly from all who entered the contest.



So tell me...which is your favorite?

1.) Ramona Quimby, Age 8 by Beverly Cleary

Background: “One of my favorite scenes is when Ramona brings a hard-boiled egg to school because it is the fad to bring them to lunch and crack the shell on your head before peeling. Unfortunately, Ramona's mom forgot to hard boil the egg and she literally ends up with egg on her face. In this passage, Ramona discusses the importance of the lunchtime food fad.”

The excerpt:

“This week hard-boiled eggs were popular with third-graders, a fad started by Yard Ape, who sometimes brought his lunch. Last week the fad had been individual bags of corn chips. Ramona had been left out of that fad because her mother objected to spending money on junk food. Surely her mother would not object to a nutritious hard-boiled egg. {...} Ramona did not feel it necessary to explain to her mother that she still did not like hard-boiled eggs, not even when they had been dyed for Easter. Neither did she like soft-boiled eggs, because she did not like slippery-slithery food. Ramona liked devilled eggs but devilled eggs were not the fad, at least not this week."

2.) Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

Background: “I had never tasted udon prior to reading the book. I started reading the book on a trip to Eastern Europe I took last year. The book really made me want to try it. By a stroke of luck a Frankfurt airport restaurant served udon, and I enjoyed some during my 18 hour layover (!!!). The associational memories are very strong.”

The excerpt:

“At the station I pop into the first little diner that catches my eye, and eat my fill of udon. Born and raised in Tokyo, I haven't had much udon in my life. But now I'm in Udon Central - Shikoku - and confronted with noodles like nothing I've ever seen. They're chewy and fresh, and the soup smells great, really fragrant. And talk about cheap. It all tastes so good I order seconds, and for the first time in who knows how long, I'm happily stuffed. Afterward I plop myself down on a bench in the plaza next to the station and gaze up at the sunny sky. I'm free, I remind myself. Like the clouds floating across the sky, I'm all by myself, totally free.”

3.) A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter

Background: A children’s book from 1909.

The excerpt:

“She lifted the cover and perfumes from the land of spices rolled up. In one end of the basket lay ten enormous sugar cakes the tops of which had been liberally dotted with circles cut from stick candy. The candy had melted in baking and made small transparent wells of waxy sweetness and in the centre of each cake was a fat turtle made from a raisin with cloves for head and feet. The remainder of the basket was filled with big spiced pears that could be held by their stems while they were eaten. The girls shrieked and attacked the cookies, and of all the treats Elnora offered perhaps none was quite so long remembered as that.”

4.) Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Background: “Here is my entry…it's one that has managed to make me hungry since the first time I read it, back in American Literature my junior year of high school. Without further ado, the chowder scene from Moby Dick…”

The excerpt:

“Upon making known our desires for a supper and a bed, Mrs. Hussey, postponing further scolding for the present, ushered us into a little room, and seating us at a table spread with the relics of a recently concluded repast, turned round to us and said-- Clam or Cod? What's that about Cods, ma'am? said I, with much politeness. Clam or Cod? she repeated. A clam for supper? a cold clam; is that what you mean, Mrs. Hussey? says I; but that's a rather cold and clammy reception in the winter time, ain't it, Mrs Hussey? [...] Queequeg, said I, do you think that we can make out a supper for us both on one clam? However, a warm savory steam from the kitchen served to belie the apparently cheerless prospect before us. But when that smoking chowder came in, the mystery was delightfully explained. Oh, sweet friends! hearken to me. It was made of small juicy clams, scarcely bigger than hazel nuts, mixed with pounded ship biscuit, and salted pork cut up into little flakes; the whole enriched with butter, and plentifully seasoned with pepper and salt. Our appetites being sharpened by the frosty voyage, and in particular, Queequeg seeing his favorite fishing food before him, and the chowder being surpassingly excellent, we despatched it with great expedition: when leaning back a moment and bethinking me of Mrs. Hussey's clam and cod announcement, I thought I would try a little experiment.

Stepping to the kitchen door, I uttered the word cod with great emphasis, and resumed my seat. In a few moments the savory steam came forth again, but with a different flavor, and in good time a fine cod-chowder was placed before us. We resumed business; and while plying our spoons in the bowl, thinks I to myself, I wonder now if this here has any effect on the head? What's that stultifying saying about chowder-headed people?”

5.) A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

Background: “a little Parisian Earnest...”

The excerpt:

"The leaves lay sodden in the rain and the wind drove the rain against the big green autobus at the terminal and the Cafe' des Amateurs was crowded and the windows misted over from the heat and the smoke inside. It was a sad evilly run cafe' where the drunkards of the quarter crowded together and I kept away from it because of the smell of drunkenness. The men and women who frequented the Amateurs stayed drunk all the time, or all of the time they could afford it, mostly on wine which they bought by the half-liter or liter. Many strangely named apertifs were advertised, but few people could afford them except as a foundation to build their wine drunks on. The women drunkards were called powrottes which meant female rummies.

The Cafe' des Amateurs was the cesspool of the rue Mouffetard, that wonderful narrow crowded market street which led into the Place Contrescarpe."