Coffee cake

"It was coffee cake; I hope that statement implies no sense of disappointment. Eaten warm from the oven, moist and crumbly, a nice coffee cake is pretty hard to fault. Coffee cake! I had made a coffee cake! Mysteriously, I thought, it contained no coffee.

"The velvet crumb business turned out to revolve around an impasto of butter, brown sugar, chopped nuts, flaked coconut, and a little milk that you spread over the cake after it came out of the oven. Then you stuck it back in the oven for a minute or two. Something wonderful happened to those five ingredients when you blended them and briefly subjected them to intense heat. The result was both smooth and grainy, crisp and chewy.

"Cooking, it turned out, was a magical act, a feat of transformation, a way of turning the homely and the familiar into something fine, like carving a pumpkin into a lantern."

Michael Chabon, writing of an early baking foray in "Manhood for Amateurs: The Pleasures and Regrets of a Husband, Father, and Son."

Reason for cake

It is a sunset ceremony linking a girl I no longer know well to a boy I have never met. It is their wedding, their celebration, another reason for cake. As if cake needed a reason.

Baskets of berries

A visit to the farmers' market yields an armload of strawberries, three baskets full. They should keep me happy for the week. I eat them sliced with yogurt and granola for breakfast. I snack on them during the day.

My sister gets baskets of berries at the supermarket, too. As does my brother. The packages are BOGO, they say. Each wanted to surprise the other with an extra. They are twins. We go from none in the house to much too much.

With the surplus, I make strawberry bread using a recipe from Martha Stewart's Everyday Food magazine. It reminds me of the pastries my friends and I had in the college cafeteria, goodness that got us through groggy mornings in Providence. It takes me back.

Strawberry Bread
adapted from Martha Stewart's Everyday Food magazine

5 Tbsp. plus 1 tsp. unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan
1 pint strawberries, rinse, hulled, quartered and mashed with a fork
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter an 8-inch by 4-inch loaf pan.

In a small saucepan, bring strawberries to a boil over medium heat. Cook, stirring, 1 minute. Set aside.

Whisk together flour, baking soda, ground cinnamon, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.

With an electric mixer, cream the butter, sugar and eggs until light and fluffy. Add the flour mixture alternately with 1/3 cup of water, beginning and ending with flour. Fold in the reserved strawberries.

Scrape batter into the prepared pan, smoothing the top. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the bread comes out clean, about 45 to 50 minutes. Cool 10 minutes in the pan. Run a knife around the edges; invert the loaf onto a rack. Cool completely. Makes 8 servings.

Home turf

"The seeds, these seeds that I had so carefully selected, were tangible proof of man's culture, of my culture, a continuation of a line. Even in this ghetto squat lot, I was cultivating human history. Watermelons from Africa. Squash from the Americas. Potatoes with a history in Peru. Radishes native to Asia but domesticated in Egypt. All now growing here in Oakland.

"Standing near the fence, I realized that not only did I make the garden; it made me. I ate out of this place every day. I had become this garden - its air, water, soil. If I abandoned the lot, I would abandon myself. When Jack Chan told me no building - no permanent structures - only garden, did he realize that by building the soil, perhaps I was making something more permanent than he could have ever imagined?"

Novella Carpenter, in "Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer."

In the Sunday paper

Pegged in part to the publication of her cookbook "In the Green Kitchen: Techniques to Learn by Heart," the San Francisco Chronicle's piece on Alice Waters sums up much of her food philosophy.

"For nearly 40 years, 'St. Alice,' as she's been called for her unrepentant views, has touted the importance of eating local, organically grown food; emphasized the necessity of being good stewards of the land; and tirelessly advocated and funded nutritional meal programs in public schools..."

Getting sauced

Oliver Thring writes in the Guardian of HP Sauce, comparing it to both A1 Steak Sauce and ketchup. Like me, he favors one but not the others.

"It's almost shocking how delicious HP is. From its lowbrow reputation and unappetising hue bursts a remarkable aroma: complex, fuggy and fruity, like swimming through compost and Jif. It tastes better than it smells, too, a sweet-sour, subjugating blend."

Sating a thirst

Not until I met a guy in London who waxed nostalgic about Anchor Steam have I given significant thought to the iconic San Francisco brand, sold by Fritz Maytag to entrepreneurs Keith Greggor and Tony Foglio.

Only now have I developed a thirst for the beer.

The second pancake

A brother makes me pancakes. Without having to ask, he takes out a mixing bowl in the morning and heats a skillet on the stove. He whips up batter. I watch from a seat at the kitchen counter.

The first pancake does not come out right. No big shakes. I tell him it's like Katie Holmes' character in "Pieces of April." Something about how she is the first pancake, the first child in the family, the one who never turns out totally right. He looks at me funny.

My brother tries again.

And the other pancakes turn out fine. They are light and fluffy, served with slices of banana and strawberries, and scoops of vanilla ice cream. He spreads separate layers of Nutella and chunky peanut butter in between as well.

They are over the top and delicious. We take turns at the plate while drinking orange juice and Champagne. Is it any wonder he remains my all-time favorite sibling?

Waste not

"There are legal, fiscal and logistical measures that can be taken to reduce food waste... If we felt, as intensely as the desert-dwelling Uighurs do, that food is a finite, invaluable resource to be cherished, our situation would be very different.

"To experience just how different things could be, go to any landfill site in Britain, the US or countless other countries, and examine its contents. Among the mass of general detritus is an array of uneaten food... Some of it (has) evidently come from restaurants and individual households.

"But there are also entire crates of food that have clearly never seen the inside of a shopping bag: eggs, oranges, cauliflowers in sprawling piles like a scattered bag of children's multi-coloured marbles. The whole world is represented here... bananas from the West Indies, grapes from South Africa, rice from India or America. All of it has come from the earth, and to the earth it has been unceremoniously returned, now blended with plastic, paper and clapped-out furniture..."

Tristram Stuart writing in "Waste: Uncovering the Global Food Scandal."

Going green

"Ulf's farm was a study in green. There was the lime green of Bibb lettuce and the arctic green of collards and the blackish green of Tuscan kale and the bronze green of mustards and the variegated green of cilantro, and many other shades of green, all set out in long, straight rows.

"The glowing pointillist dots of chiles and tomatoes and oranges were missing, for Ulf did not grow these things. He was a leaf man. He just grew greens."

Mike Madison, writing of a neighbor's farm in "Blithe Tomato."

Flannel cakes

"Funniest joke in the world:

'Last night I dreamed I was eating flannel cakes. When I woke up the blanket was gone!' "

Kurt Vonnegut, writing in "A Man Without a Country."

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."