Chicks and bunnies

Because it is Easter.

What matters

"It doesn't take a genius to see that an ever-growing population cannot continue to devote limited resources to produce ever-increasing amounts of meat, which takes roughly 10 times more energy to produce than plants. Nor can you possibly be 'nice' to animals, or respectful of them, when you're raising and killing them by the billions.

"And it doesn't take a scientist, either, to know that a handful of peanuts is better for you than a Snickers bar, that food left closer to its natural state is more nutritious than food that has been refined to within an inch of its life, and that eating unprecedented quantities of animals who have been drugged and generally mistreated their entire lives isn't good for you..."

Mark Bittman, in "Food Matters: A Guide to Conscious Eating"

Raising Ruth

"Mom's novel entertaining scheme involved more than a moveable feast: While her guests drifted from room to room, she served what she called 'interesting dishes they would not forget.'

"To that end she tried turning herself into a cook, pouncing upon every unfamiliar food that crossed her path. She discovered sea urchins at the fish market, their bristles still sharp and dangerous, and brought them home along with a smooth cactus flower she had unearthed in Little Italy.

"She found slick, perfumed lychee nuts in Chinatown, and one morning I opened the refrigerator to find an entire baby piglet staring out at me..."

Ruth Reichl, in "Not Becoming My Mother and Other Things She Taught Me Along the Way"

Resisting change

The folks in Huntington, W. Virginia, exasperate Jamie O. They make him cry on "Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution."

Alice, the lunch lady, for example, and her colleagues give the British chef and good-foods advocate a difficult time in their school kitchen. They resist any dose of change.

"So what else are we preparing for lunch today?" Oliver asks.

"Mashed potatoes."

"We should probably start peeling potatoes then."

"Peeling potatoes?"

Meanwhile, children choose chocolate milk and strawberry-flavored milk over vitamin D. They eat pizza and chicken nuggets. They do not properly identify fruits and vegetables.

Hope moves

First Lady Michelle Obama writes in Newsweek of Let's Move, the nationwide campaign she is spearheading. Its primary goal: to solve the problem of childhood obesity in a generation.

This excerpt provides a decent taste:

"It's now clear that between the pressures of today's economy and the breakneck pace of modern life, the well-being of our kids has too often gotten lost in the shuffle.

"And let's be honest with ourselves: our kids didn't do this to themselves. Our kids don't decide what's served in the school cafeteria or whether there's time for gym class or recess. Our kids don't choose to make food products with tons of sugar and sodium in supersize portions, and then have those products marketed to them everywhere they turn. And no matter how much they beg for fast food and candy, our kids shouldn't be the ones calling the shots at dinnertime. We're in charge. We make these decisions..."

Chocolate and Guinness

To mark St. Patrick's Day, Nigella Lawson offers up, among other dishes, a chocolate Guinness cake "loaded with sugar, chocolate and a cream cheese frosting that recalls the foamy head of a pint" on NPR.

The cake would also work well without frosting. Now if only I actually had a bottle of Guinness somewhere in the house.

Chocolate Guinness Cake
from "Feast" by Nigella Lawson

1 cup Guinness
1 stick plus 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
2 cups superfine sugar
3/4 cup sour cream
2 eggs
1 Tbsp. pure vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp. baking soda

for the topping:

8 ounces cream cheese
1 1/4 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F, and butter and line a 9-inch springform pan.

Pour the Guinness into a large wide saucepan, add the butter - in spoons or slices - and heat until the butter's melted, at which time you should whisk in the cocoa and sugar.

Beat the sour cream with the eggs and vanilla and then pour into the brown, buttery, beery pan and finally whisk in the flour and baking soda.

Pour the cake batter into the greased and lined pan and bake for 45 minutes to an hour. Leave to cool completely in the pan on a cooling rack, as it is quite a damp cake.

When the cake's cold, sit it on a flat platter or cake stand and get on with the frosting. Lightly whip the cream cheese until smooth, sift over the confectioner's sugar and then beat them both together. Or do this in a processor, putting the unsifted confectioners' sugar in first and blitz to remove lumps before adding the cheese.

Add the cream and beat again until it makes a spreadable consistency. Ice the top of the black cake so that it resembles the frothy top of the famous pint. Makes 12 servings.

"Ripe" for review

For a book on "the search for the perfect tomato," Arthur Allen's "Ripe" is peculiarly and surprisingly light on passages that actually celebrate the popular fruit.

Aside from a few odes to its color, shape and texture, the Washington, D.C.-based journalist takes a technical approach to tomato appreciation, telling "a story about agribusiness through a single crop, examining its travels from a seedsman's laboratory or greenhouse to our tables."

In accessible but sometimes pedestrian prose, Allen writes of meetings with farmers, breeders and canners, examining historical developments and their impacts on various aspects of the industry. The tomato yield in California, for instance, increased from two million tons in 1965 to 11 million tons in 2000.

Sections on UC Davis agriculture professors and tomato breeders Jack Hanna and M. Allen Stevens prove educational, as do chapters on field workers in Florida (where the tomato is the number three crop behind oranges and sugar) and on consumers in Italy (as recently as a century ago, most Italians didn't even eat tomatoes).

By tackling the topic from the perspectives of business and science, the author engages his readers' heads more than their hearts.

(A version of this review appears in Publishers Weekly.)

A day for Pi

It is apparently a day for Pi - 3.14285714. It is a day for pumpkin pie, with an easy recipe lifted straight off the can.

Pumpkin Pie

3/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 3/4 tsp. pumpkin pie spice
2 large eggs
1 15-ounce can pumpkin puree
1 12-ounce can evaporated milk
1 unbaked 9-inch deep-dish pie shell

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.

Mix sugar, salt and pumpkin pie spice in a small bowl. Beat eggs in a large bowl. Stir in pumpkin and sugar-spice mixture. Gradually stir in the evaporated milk.

Pour into the pie shell.

Bake for 15 minutes.

Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees F; bake 40 minutes or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack for 2 hours. Serve immediately or refrigerate. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

Double dose of Dahl

Elizabeth Grice writes in The Telegraph about Sophie Dahl, author of "Miss Dahl's Voluptuous Delights: Recipes for Every Season, Mood, and Appetite" and star of "The Delicious Miss Dahl," which premieres March 23 on the BBC.

"Classically dressed, not a utensil out of place, Dahl drifts charmingly through the rituals of omelette Arnold Bennett and cherry chocolate compote in a spotless kitchen. 'I am a Virgo. I tidy as I go. I can't abide mess in the kitchen or anywhere else.' She loiters in specialist food shops where there seem to be no other customers...

"And everything, sometime, somehow, recalls a childhood of fragrant kitchens, especially that of her paternal grandmother, Gee-Gee (mother of her actor father, Julian Holloway). On a grey winter day, you could easily fall into her languid mood of culinary escapism."

What Hollywood eats

For the 16th year in a row, chef Wolfgang Puck spearheads the Governors Ball, which takes place after the Academy Awards.

The menu, beginning with appetizers:

Tempura Shrimp and Lobster

Mini Kobe Burgers with Aged Cheddar and Remoulade

Wasabi Pea-Crusted Crab Cake with Mango and Thai Basil

Smoked Salmon Pizza with Caviar and Dill Creme

Black Truffle and Ricotta Cheese Pizza

Vegetable Spring Rolls with Sweet and Spicy Dipping Sauce

Chicken Potstickers with Ginger Black Vinegar Dipping Sauce

For dinner, there is:

House-Smoked Salmon, Potato Galette, Creme Fraiche and Baby Greens with Butler-passed Warm Brioche

Chicken Pot Pie with Yukon Gold Potatoes, Baby Heirloom Vegetables and Homemade Pastry Crust

And for dessert:

L'Etoile de Oscar

Baked Alaska with Espresso Glace, Guittard L'Etoile du Nord Chocolate Sorbet and Toasted Meringue

Now who says people in Hollywood do not eat?

The literary Miss Dahl

"In New York, my mum and her friends were constantly waging a battle against the dread affliction of fat. They wrapped themselves in seaweed to ward it off, climbed treadmills with an almost religious fervor, and saw a bevy of nutritionists, trainers, and Russians with heavy biceps to ensure it didn't darken their doors.

"There were cabbage-soup diets, steak diets, grapefruit-and-boiled-egg diets, and failing that, a trip to a spa in Miami where everything was counted for you and printed out on a computer.

"At my school on the Upper East Side, we daughters translated the insidious information we received with clumsy teenage logic, and applied it to our mealtimes...

"We didn't think we were fat; we just sure as hell didn't ever want to get that way. Fat was the girl who sat alone in the cafeteria eating macaroni and cheese... Fat was what came between you and your Calvins. Fat, according to the silent mantra of our mothers, was something that could slink up on you in the night, like a witch from a bad fairy tale, slovenly, spreading, and out of control."

Sophie Dahl, in "Secrets of the Flesh" from the March issue of Vogue.

What Ohno eats

To prepare for the Winter Games, according to Sports Illustrated, speedskater Apolo Anton Ohno "has been on the same fit-for-a-parrot diet for 15 weeks; a meal rotation every three hours that includes oatmeal, salmon, brown rice, salad, fruit, seaweed, blue-green algae and, occasionally, pasta."

Is it any wonder he has but 2 percent body fat?

Though I could eat nearly everything on Ohno's list - what exactly is blue-green algae? - nowhere in that description do I see cake or ice cream or bagels and cream cheese or hamburger and french fries... Or anything else that might easily brighten a day. Imagine the discipline.

Oh well, so much for my Olympics speedskating dreams.

Martha's Place in Montgomery

Owner of the popular restaurant in Montgomery, Alabama, Martha Hawkins chronicles with simple grace in "Finding Martha's Place: My Journey Through Sin, Salvation, and Lots of Soul Food" the highs and lows of her life thus far. She reveals the inspiration and motivation behind her success.

The tenth of 12 children, Hawkins grew up in Alabama in the 1950s and '60s with little money but lots of love, and a mama who was always cooking: "Give her a pot of peas and a dash of salt and she could make a meal for the entire neighborhood."

With honesty and sincerity, she recalls her teenage pregnancy: "I was scared to drink water because I was scared I was going to drown the baby." She talks of her marriage and subsequent divorce, the three other boys she bore, her diagnosis with and treatment for depression, and her financial struggles.

The brightest passages, however, involve food. Hawkins celebrates her time in the kitchen vividly and passionately:

"When you eat a piece of my fried chicken you can snap your fingers afterward. Then there's chicken and dumplings and collards and steamed rice and smothered cabbage and black-eyed peas. For dessert there's pound cake and apple cobbler and banana pudding and sweet potato pie and strawberry pie and more..."

And for readers who can not get to Montgomery themselves to taste her cooking, Hawkins concludes the feel-good memoir with some of her best home-grown Southern recipes.

(A version of this review appears in Publishers Weekly.)

Southern Baked Catfish
from Martha Hawkins' "Finding Martha's Place: My Journey Through Sin, Salvation and Lots of Soul Food"

6 catfish fillets
2 Tbsp. melted butter
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 tsp. dried basil (or 1 tsp. fresh)
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. dry thyme
1 1/2 cups crushed dry cornflakes

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In a medium bowl, mix together the herbs and cornflakes.

Place the catfish in a 2-quart casserole dish. Brush with the melted butter. Cover with the cornflake mixture.

Bake 15 to 20 minutes. Makes 6 servings.

Red beans and rice

When others begin to think of deprivation, I contemplate ways to indulge at the table Southern-style and toy with the idea of red beans and rice.

Red Beans and Rice
from "New Orleans Cuisine: Fourteen Signature Dishes and Their Histories," edited by Susan Tucker

1 quart dried red beans
1 pound ham or salt meat
1 carrot
1 onion
1 bay leaf
salt
fresh ground black pepper

Wash the beans and soak them overnight, or at least five or six hours, in fresh, cold water.

When ready to cook, drain off the water and put the beans in a pot of cold water, covering with at least two quarts, for beans must cook thoroughly.

Let the water heat slowly. Then add the ham or salt pork and the herbs and onion and carrot, minced fine.

Boil the beans at least two hours, or until tender enough to mash easily under pressure.

When tender, remove from the pot, put the salt meat or ham on top of the dish, and serve hot with boiled rice as an entree. Makes 8 servings.

The Lunar New Year

Among foods prepared during the Lunar New Year, jai seems to me the most complicated. It is also perhaps the most fascinating.

Known alternatively as Vegetarian's Delight or Buddhist's Delight, the traditional dish incorporates a selection of dried and fresh ingredients, all of which symbolize luck and success. Eaten on the first day of the new year, it should bring fortune in the weeks and months ahead.

Ingredients such as fat choy, a form of black seaweed, and ho see, or dried oysters, signify wealth and happiness. The words fat choy, for example, sound like the Chinese words for "prosperity"; the words ho see sound like the ones for "good news." To eat these items, then, is to be particularly blessed.

Though its origins remain unclear - some peg jai as an ancient, annual offering to Buddha - the healthful, meatless dish can be cooked an infinite number of ways. Recipes and preferences vary by region and differ inevitably among households. Technically a stir-fry combined in either a wok or a large pan, the mixture won't be crisp, however. It will instead turn out quite soft.

Ellen Leong Blonder, who, with Annabel Low, penned "Every Grain of Rice: A Taste of Our Chinese Childhood in America," uses about 15 dried and fresh noodles, fungi, nuts and vegetables in her jai. She also provides illustrations of items such as fresh water chestnuts and arrowheads, handy to have when wandering unfamiliar aisles of an Asian market.

Admittedly, her recipe appears time-consuming. Most of the prep work, though, can be done at least a day in advance. For instance, soak, drain and chop bean-thread noodles and dried black mushrooms the night before.

Veteran chef and cooking instructor Ken Hom strips his jai down to eight or nine essential ingredients. In "Ken Hom's Chinese Kitchen," he simplifies the process by forgoing items such as fat choy and ho see.

His less-expensive version is the one more commonly found in Chinese restaurants around the United States. It reminds me in some ways of chap chae, a popular Korean dish with noodles and vegetables.

Like Blonder and Low, my mother adheres strongly to custom. Growing up, we celebrated with an elaborate jai. In the kitchen New Year's Eve, my sisters, brothers and I found items such as cloud ears, tiger lily buds and jujubes soaking in small bowls of water.

We watched our mother peel fresh water chestnuts and arrowheads, and rinse fat choy. We went to sleep as she continued to work.

Early the next morning, we discovered platters of jai on the dining table, as if by magic. Our mother had awakened before us.

In our bright, new clothes, with our faces freshly scrubbed, my siblings and I ate jai for breakfast. We had it with bowls of steamed white rice and dabs of preserved olives. We ate it sometimes for lunch and dinner, too - a fortuitous start, we said, to our Lunar New Year.

(A version of this essay appeared originally in The Oakland Tribune.)


Jai (Vegetarian Monks' Dish)
adapted from Ellen Leong Blonder and Annabel Low's "Every Grain of Rice: A Taste of Our Chinese Childhood in America"

1 3 1/2-ounce package bean-thread noodles
20 small dried black mushrooms
1/2 ounce cloud ears
1/2 cup tiger lily buds
20 small dried jujubes (Chinese red dates)
1/2 ounce fat choy (black seaweed)
1/4 cup dried lotus seeds
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. plus 1 Tbsp. vegetable or peanut oil
1 1/2-inch piece ginger
8 to 12 dried oysters, soaked overnight in water to cover
3/4 cup shelled ginkgo nuts
2 ounces dried bean curd sticks (also called dried bean flour skins)
4 ounces snow peas, strings removed
8 to 10 ounces tofu, cut into 3/4-inch dice
8 fresh or canned water chestnuts, peeled and sliced
1/4 cup sliced bamboo shoots, rinsed and drained
4 to 8 fresh arrowheads, lightly scraped with stems intact
12 pieces dao pok (fried wheat gluten)
2 cups finely shredded Napa cabbage
1 Tbsp. red bean curd
1 Tbsp. fermented bean curd

seasoning mixture:

3 cups water
1 Tbsp. sugar
4 tsp. oyster sauce
1 Tbsp. soy sauce

Soak the bean-thread noodles in water for 2 hours. Put the mushrooms in a small bowl with hot water. Let stand 30 to 45 minutes to soften. Cut and discard the stems. Rinse the caps, squeeze dry and cut into quarter-inch-thick slices.

Put the cloud ears, tiger lily buds, jujubes, fat choy and lotus seeds in separate bowls, add hot water to cover and soak for 30 minutes.

Rinse the cloud ears well, drain, cut and discard any hard parts. Rinse and drain the tiger lily buds, cut the hard ends. Drain the jujubes.

Rinse the fat choy and put it in a small saucepan with the salt, 1 tsp. of the oil, the ginger and water to cover. Bring to a boil, turn off the heat and let stand 10 minutes. Drain the fat choy and gently squeeze out the water.

Open the lotus seeds and discard the bitter green parts inside. Put the lotus seeds in a small saucepan with water to cover, bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer until tender, about 20 minutes. Drain.

Rinse the soaked oysters to remove any sand. Trim off any tough parts. Steam the oysters in a small dish for 10 minutes over medium heat until soft.

Put the ginkgo nuts in a small saucepan with enough water to cover. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer five minutes. Drain, then skin.

Break the bean curd sticks into 2- to 3-inch pieces. Soak for 30 minutes in a small saucepan with water to cover, simmer about 10 minutes to soften, then drain. Drain the bean-thread noodles, then cut into 6-inch lengths.

(You can prepare the recipe to this point one day in advance. Cover the individual ingredients separately and refrigerate.)

Blanch the snow peas in boiling water for 30 seconds. Rinse them under cold water and drain.

Combine ingredients for the seasoning mixture in a medium bowl and set aside.

Put the mushrooms, cloud ears, tiger lily buds, fat choy, lotus seeds, oysters, ginkgo nuts, tofu, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, arrowheads and dao pok (fried wheat gluten) in a large bowl.

Put the bean-thread noodles and bean curd sticks in a second bowl, and the jujubes, Napa cabbage and snow peas in a third bowl.

Heat a wok over high heat, then heat 1 Tbsp. of oil.

Add the red and fermented bean curd, lower the heat to medium-high and cook 15 seconds, breaking it up with a spatula.

Stir in the seasoning mixture, bring to a boil, and cook for two to three minutes.

Add the mushroom mixture and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the bean-thread noodles and bean curd sticks and cook 4 minutes longer, stirring occasionally.

Add the remaining ingredients and cook 2 minutes longer, tossing gently to distribute the Napa cabbage evenly. Makes 8 servings.


Vegetarian Delight
from "Ken Hom's Chinese Kitchen: With a Consumer's Guide to Essential Ingredients"

6 eggs, beaten
1 tsp. salt
4 tsp. sesame oil
1 ounce Chinese dried black mushrooms, re-hydrated
1/2-ounce cloud ears, re-hydrated
2 ounces bean-thread noodles
4 ounces pressed seasoned bean curd, re-hydrated
8 ounces cucumber
3 Tbsp. peanut oil
1 small onion, sliced
2 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh ginger
2 Tbsp. finely chopped garlic
3 Tbsp. light soy sauce
2 Tbsp. whole bean sauce
3 Tbsp. Shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry
1 Tbsp. hoisin sauce

In a small bowl, combine the egg, salt and 2 tsp. sesame oil, and set aside.

Remove and discard the mushroom stems and finely shred the caps into thin strips.

Remove and discard any hard stems from the cloud ears. Set aside.

Soak the bean-thread noodles in warm water for 15 minutes. Drain well and set aside. Cut the pressed bean curd into thin strips.

Peel and seed the cucumbers, and cut them into thin strips.

Heat a wok or large frying pan over high heat until it is hot. Add 1 1/2 Tbsp. of the oil and, when it is very hot and slightly smoking, turn the heat down to moderate.

Add the egg mixture and stir-fry for a few minutes or until the egg has barely scrambled. Remove the egg from the wok and drain on paper towels.

Wipe the wok clean and reheat it. When it is hot, add the remaining 1 1/2 Tbsp. of oil.

When it is very hot and slightly smoking, quickly add the onion, ginger and garlic, and stir-fry for 2 minutes. Then add the mushrooms, cloud ears, pressed bean curd, bean-thread noodles and cucumbers, and stir-fry for 2 more minutes.

Add the soy sauce, bean sauce, Shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry, hoisin sauce and remaining sesame oil, and continue to stir-fry for 3 minutes. Finally, add the cooked eggs and stir-fry for one minute. Turn onto a platter. Makes 4 servings.

The boy from Essex

"My name's Jamie Oliver. I'm 34 years old. I'm from Essex in England and for the last seven years I've worked fairly tirelessly to save lives in my own way. I'm not a doctor; I'm a chef. I don't have expensive equipment or medicine. I use information, education..."

Jamie Oliver, on accepting the 2010 TED prize in Long Beach, Calif.

Why ask why?

Because there are six more weeks of winter. And we are dying to see blue skies. Because we want something slightly sweet with tea or coffee in the late afternoons. It is time we savor quietly. Time we enjoy by ourselves.

Because there are ingredients in the freezer, fridge and cupboard. Cranberries. Butter. Orange juice. White and brown sugar. Oatmeal. They are simple to pull together. The oven does the work. Because we need to.

Cranberry Oat Squares

for the cranberry sauce:

4 cups fresh or frozen cranberries
2/3 to 1 cup sugar
1/3 cup orange juice

for the cranberry squares:

1 1/2 cups quick-cooking oats
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, melted

To make the cranberry sauce:

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F.

Place cranberries in 9- by 13-inch glass baking dish. Sprinkle evenly with sugar.

Bake for 1 hour, stirring after 30 minutes. Add orange juice; stir to combine. Set aside to cool.

To make the cranberry squares:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Stir oats, flour, baking soda, salt, brown sugar and melted butter in a large bowl until thoroughly combined. Press half the mixture evenly into bottom of a 9-inch square glass baking pan.

Top with cranberry sauce in an even layer. Sprinkle with remaining oat mixture and bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until lightly brown. Cool and cut into squares. Makes 9 to 10 servings.

In the Sunday paper

Novelist Alexander McCall Smith writes in The Observer of a lifelong affection for tea and tea-taking:

"Tea, for me, is one of the great subjects. It is a romantic trade, it does not pollute excessively, it has all sorts of health benefits, it calms and wakes you up at the same time. It promotes conversation. You can give it to the vicar when he calls - if vicars still call - and you can give it to the builders when they come to knock down your wall. Builders still take sugar, but then I'm sure they need it..."

Cooking for her "Latte"

In 2001, Amanda Hesser shared her adventures in food and love with readers of The New York Times. In her Food Diary column, published in the Sunday magazine, she wrote about her then-emerging relationship with a man she called Mr. Latte.

He earned his nickname on their first date, when he ordered a latte after dinner - a post-prandial no-no in Hesser's view. She prefers a more sophisticated cup of espresso or a glass of Armagnac instead.

She wrote about his likes and dislikes, and the things they did and did not have in common. She wrote about their friends and families.

Most of all, she wrote about the meals they enjoyed - in fancy and not-so-fancy restaurants, in each other's apartments, while playing pool in a neighborhood bar, on trips to Europe, in their parents' and grandparents' homes, when he proposed, and when they married.

"Cooking for Mr. Latte: A Food Lover's Courtship, with Recipes" is a collection of these columns, paired with more than a dozen new essays. Appetizing and addictive, they chart the couple's connections to food as well as their increasing links to one another. They chronicle Hesser's growing affection for Tad Friend, a New Yorker staff writer, and her delight in being with him.

Sweet and sentimental, the pieces - 37 in all - provide a generous look into their personal lives. They give us reasons to root for the two of them, through thick and thin. They make us care about happily ever after.

Hesser believes in eating well. This means good food as well as good company. "(It) is about the people you share that food with," she says in her introduction, "the room you dine in, what you talk about, and the emotional hungers that you bring to the table." The idea sets the tone for the rest of the book.

When she prepares her first meal for Friend, for example, she wants to impress him. She hopes he likes the dishes - guinea hen, potatoes, a salad and dessert - she makes, that he would be comfortable in her apartment, that he would adore her very nature.

She should not have worried. "He ate heartily and had seconds of everything," Hesser tells us. "We finished the wine. I made him a latte, even."

When he decides to cook dinner for her one night, she is both flattered and flustered. "What could come out of a kitchen with a refrigerator containing only an unwrapped block of cheddar cheese, mustard, and a bottle of Moet & Chandon Champagne?" she wonders.

Imagine her delight when he presents chicken roasted with sour cream, lemon juice and mango chutney; a smooth puree of peas and watercress; and a hearty and pleasantly sharp couscous with celery, parsley and red-wine vinegar.

"Where did these recipes come from?" she asks rhetorically. "How did he learn to cook so well? Why hadn't he seemed anxious about whether I would like it? Why isn't there more food in his refrigerator?"

Hesser's curiosity is piqued. She had underestimated her new beau's interest and ability all along. She was on her way to being smitten.

Despite her professional background or perhaps because of it, Hesser tends to concentrate on simple foods at home.

For the most part, the dishes featured in "Cooking for Mr. Latte" are unpretentious and healthful. Each essay concludes with at least two or three recipes, sometimes as many as six. The ingredients are accessible, the directions uncomplicated.

The crab cakes, for example, her grandmother Helen makes when Hesser visits call for crab meat, bread and cracker crumbs, Miracle Whip and little else. The lobster rolls she and Friend serve at their rehearsal dinner several months later seem just as easy to pull together.

Whether discussing stages of her relationship with the man she eventually marries or noting details about the foods they share and the ways in which their meals are prepared, Hesser keeps her readers entertained.

Her voice is genuine and sympathetic. The brief and poignant individual set pieces work in and of themselves. Taken as a whole, they also create a successful narrative arc, one that is complete and undeniably satisfying.

(A version of this review appeared originally in The Oakland Tribune.)

Lobster Rolls
from Amanda Hesser's "Cooking for Mr. Latte: A Food Lover's Courtship, with Recipes"

1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup finely diced celery
1 Tbsp. sliced chives
1 Tbsp. chopped parsley
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
juice of 1 lemon
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 cups steamed or poached lobster meat, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 hot dog rolls
melted butter, for brushing

In a large bowl, stir together the mayonnaise, celery, chives, parsley, mustard and half the lemon juice. Season generously with salt and pepper. Fold in the lobster meat and add more lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour, to let the flavors blend.

When you're ready to serve, let the lobster salad warm up for a half hour or so. Preheat the broiler. Split the hot dog rolls and toast them lightly on their cut sides. Brush with melted butter and fill each with a few spoonfuls of the lobster salad. Makes 4 servings.

Celebration pudding

The Saints are heading to the Super Bowl and we are heading to the kitchen.

Now would be as fine a time as any to break in the cookbook "Dam Good Sweet: Desserts to Satisfy Your Sweet Tooth, New Orleans Style." First up, to celebrate properly, a recipe for pudding.

Banana Pudding with Vanilla Wafer Crumble
from David Guas and Raquel Pelzel's "Dam Good Sweet: Desserts to Satisfy Your Sweet Tooth, New Orleans Style"

for the pudding:

5 large egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 tsp. salt
2 cups whole milk
3 Tbsp. banana liqueur (or 1 tsp. banana flavoring)
2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
2 ripe bananas

for the crumble:

1 cup vanilla wafers (about 15 cookies)
2 tsp. sugar
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
pinch salt
1 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted

To make the pudding:

Whisk the egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch and salt together in a medium bowl and set aside.

Bring the milk to a boil in a medium saucepan. Remove from the heat and whisk a little at a time into the egg mixture. Once the bottom of the bowl is warm, slowly whisk in the remaining hot milk.

Pour the mixture back into a clean medium saucepan (cleaning the saucepan prevents the pudding from scorching), add the banana liqueur and whisk over medium-low heat until it thickens, about 2 minutes.

Cook while constantly whisking until the pudding is glossy and quite thick, 1 1/2 to 2 minutes longer. Transfer the pudding to a clean bowl.

Add the vanilla and butter and gently whisk until the butter is completely melted and incorporated. Press a piece of plastic wrap onto the surface of the pudding to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate for 4 hours.

To make the crumble:

While the pudding sets, heat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside. Place the wafers in a resealable plastic bag and seal (make sure there is no air in the bag prior to sealing). Using a rolling pin or a flat-bottomed saucepan or pot, crush the vanilla wafers until they're coarsely ground.

Transfer them to a small bowl and stir in the sugar, cinnamon and salt. Use a spoon to evenly stir in the melted butter, transfer to the prepared baking sheet, and toast in the oven until brown and fragrant, 12 to 15 minutes.

Remove from the oven and set aside to cool. (The crumbs can be stored in an airtight container for up to 5 days at room temperature or frozen for up to 2 months; re-crisp in a 325-degree F oven for 6 to 7 minutes if necessary.)

To serve:

Slice the bananas in half crosswise and then slice in half lengthwise so you have 4 quarters. Slice the banana quarters crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces and divide among 6 custard cups or martini glasses (sprinkle with a squeeze of lemon juice if you like - this helps prevent browning).

Whisk the pudding until it is soft and smooth, about 30 seconds, and then divide it among the custard cups. Top with the vanilla wafer mixture and serve.

(If not served immediately, the pudding will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, with plastic wrap intact. Sprinkle the crumbs on just before serving.) Makes 6 servings.