The other night I found myself sitting at my computer thinking about ghee. Several years ago I had a habit of regularly making it, and I’d use it in all manner of curries and sautés—it was fun to keep on hand, and it would last for forever. It’d been a while since I’d made a batch. As I was sitting there, I had the realization that ghee is nothing more than—get this—strained browned butter. It’s not that I ever thought ghee was a complicated thing to wrap your head around—surely others have conceptualized it this way before. But in any case, it was revelation enough that it catapulted me into the kitchen.

To make ghee, melt a stick—or two or three or fifteen—of butter over medium heat in a saucepan or small skillet that’s not black (it’ll be hard to gauge the ghee’s color if you use a dark pan, such as a cast-iron skillet). As it cooks, sizzling away as the water evaporates, the solids will separate, clinging to the sides and dropping to the bottom of the pan, and they’ll begin to take on color. You’ll want to watch closely, because once the solids start to color, they can go from blond to black in a matter of seconds. Look for them to turn reddish-brown—which is when you have browned butter! Remove the pan from the heat and immediately, carefully pour the butter through a cheesecloth-lined sieve to strain out the solids. (The purpose of separating the solids is to allow the ghee to have a high smoke point.) Once it cools, you can keep it in an airtight container in the refrigerator for several weeks.

I first used my ghee in this curry, one that I could have made in February because unfortunately that’s the state of the farmer’s market. What I’m getting there lately is sprouts, a bunch of scallions, lettuce . . . Most of which I’m eating out of hand or as sparse little garnishes. Spring vegetables just aren’t yet offering enough to plump out a whole meal. So I’m still stocked up on sweet potatoes, kale, cans of tomatoes—the usual items that I always keep on hand.

Spicing, as you probably know, can be an elaborate matter when it comes to Indian curries. I don’t often wing a curry as I did this one—I turn to one of Chitra’s recipes, or Madhur Jaffrey’s for inspiration, where the colorful spread of dried spices have been meticulously figured out already. In this curry, the bulk of the flavor comes from a paste of ginger, garlic, and chilies that I learned to make in an Indian cookery class I took several years ago, and the dry spicing is relatively sparse—cumin, coriander, and garam masala. It may not be entirely authentic, but it was rich, spicy, and filling, and a perfect foil to my ghee.

Sweet Potato and Kale Curry

Serves 4

3 tablespoons ghee, clarified butter, or peanut oil
1-1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 medium white onion, diced
1 teaspoon ground coriander
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon grated ginger
1 small hot chili, seeded if you like, minced
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 sweet potato (1 pound), cut into 1/2-inch cubes
One 28-ounce can or two 14.5-ounce cans whole tomatoes
2 teaspoons brown sugar
4 cups shredded kale or other hearty greens
2 teaspoons garam masala
1/2 cup chopped cilantro, plus additional for garnish
Cooked white rice

1. Heat the ghee in a deep skillet over medium-high heat. To test the temperature, add one or two cumin seeds. They should sizzle immediately. Add the cumin, swirling for a few seconds, then the onion and the coriander and cook for 10 to 15 minutes, until the onions begin to caramelize.

2. Meanwhile, mince the garlic, ginger, and pepper together on a cutting board. Sprinkle the salt over it and continue mincing until it becomes a paste.

3. Add the garlic-ginger-chili paste to the onion and cook just until fragrant, less than a minute, stirring constantly to prevent sticking. Add the sweet potato, tomatoes, brown sugar, and 2/3 cup water. Stir in the kale. Partially cover the pan and cook for 20 to 30 minutes, stirring periodically, until the potatoes are tender. Use a wooden spoon to break up the tomatoes as the curry cooks. You can add another splash of water if the pan dries out too much and the curry appears thick, or turn up the heat slightly to let some of the liquid boil off if it seems too thin. Stir in the garam masala.

4. Remove from the heat. Stir in the cilantro. Serve over rice.

At some point last year, my friend and 61 Local colleague Laura and I were at work, whiling away a slow shift by discussing dinner clubs. We came up with the idea for one that focuses on a curated selection of ingredients, where each 6-course dinner would have an ingredient spotlight, and then each course would have to use it in some interesting way. As we explored the possibilities, we decided that we needed to see this dinner club realized. Laura and I picked the ingredients—olive oil, honey, ginger, miso, mint, and orange—and I assembled our cooks and diners: Camila, Colin, Matthew, Laura, Nozlee, and me.

Dinner clubs are always fun for someone who likes to cook, eat, and linger over a dining table talking about food. But this one has been so much fun—so exciting, due in part to getting a great balance of food-curious people who are largely new to each other, but also because of all of the creative and delicious dishes that we’ve tasted. A few highlights: For our olive oil dinner, Nozlee made martinis that featured olive oil-infused vermouth. For her ginger appetizer, Laura made ginger-scented meringues stuffed with gingery, curried blue cheese. And at this most recent dinner Colin made a miso-banana ice cream, flavored with kecap manis, the sweet, thick Indonesian soy sauce.

This last dinner, which featured miso, was a bizarre and incongruous meal, but it was a resounding success. We had “miso fashioned” cocktails, a spin on an Old Fashioned made with a miso syrup, whiskey, and chamomile-citrus bitters; a corn and miso bisque drizzled with miso butter; “sea-sar” salad, a spin on a Caesar salad made from seaweed, with dehydrated miso subbing in as the parmesan crumbled over the top; miso-marinated mushroom and steak tacos with a spicy slaw; and then the aforementioned ice cream. My contribution was the appetizer, miso-mushroom sliders. This was perhaps the least inventive in the context of this dinner club, but it was rich, juicy, and satisfying, and generated enough excitement that I thought readers here might want to give them a whirl.

Miso and honey are a wonderful combination, but these were good also because I used a great medley of mushrooms. I picked up some shiitakes, criminis, and yellow oyster mushrooms from Madura Farms’ stand at the famers market near me—they were dainty and expensive, but so delicate and fresh, almost floral in their fragrance. I took care cooking them, searing each variety separately and in small batches, allowing them to caramelize but not to overcook; I wanted them succulent, which helped to retain their individual flavors. I also made my own little slider rolls, which were adorable and infused, of course, with the requisite miso (I’ve omitted that part in the recipe below, as it was more impressive in theory than execution).

All in all, it was a very fun way to kick off a meal, and it seems like the sort of thing that would work well in a passed hors d’oeuvre setting or as part of a finger foods spread. With upcoming graduations, mothers days, fathers days and all the other reasons to celebrate the warm weather ahead, hopefully you’ll find an occasion to have as much fun with them as I did.

Miso Mushroom Sliders

A good selection of mushrooms is crucial here. Try to use at least three different kinds. And if you’re a strict vegetarian, make sure to check the ingredients of your miso carefully—some of them contain bonito, which is dried fish flakes.

Makes about 20 sliders

1 pound mixed mushrooms (see above)
Olive oil
2 tablespoons red miso
1 tablespoon mirin
2 teaspoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons hot tap water
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon honey

For assembly
20 slider buns (recipe below)
Pickled onions (I have a recipe in Veggie Burgers Every Which Way, but can also recommend this David Lebovitz recipe)
Baby greens, micogreens, shoots, or sprouts
Mayonnaise or veganaise (optional—I’m very on the fence with mayonnaise, so I dont use it; but I understand its appeal here)

1. Discard the stems of tough-stemmed mushrooms like shitakes, and slice the caps very thinly. For delicate mushrooms, like oyster mushrooms, gently separate the small lobes apart from the main stalk and thinly slice the large ones; slice the stalks, if meaty and tender, into very thin pieces. Slice button and crimini mushrooms very thinly (I don’t separate the stems of these types of mushrooms—I eat them).

2. Heat about 2 tablespoons oil in a skillet over high heat. Cook each mushroom variety separately—and in batches if necessary to avoid crowding—without stirring too much so that they develop some caramelization. Cook until just tender and juicy, less than 5 minutes. Transfer to a plate. Add additional oil to the pan as needed for subsequent batches.

3. Meanwhile, whisk together the miso, mirin, soy sauce, and water in a small bowl.

4. After you finish cooking the mushrooms, return the skillet to the heat, add a splash of oil and then the garlic. When fragrant, pour in the miso mixture, scraping the pan with a wooden spoon to dislodge any browned bits. Just as it appears to thicken, add the mushrooms and the honey. Cook for a minute or two, until evenly coated and the sauce clings thickly to the mushrooms. Keep warm, or let cool and reheat before assembling the sliders.

5. Split the mini burger buns and toast, broil, or grill them. (You may wish to brush the open sides with a bit of olive oil first.)

6. To serve, divide the mushrooms over the bottom halves of the buns. Top with a few pickled onions, a little pile of greens, and close up with the top halves (which have been spread with a bit of mayonnaise if desired). Spear with a long toothpick if you’d like. The sliders are best served warm.

Whole Wheat Slider Buns

You can certainly use whatever recipe you like for the buns, and the vegan bun recipe in Veggie Burgers Every Which Way also makes excellent slider rolls. Whatever recipe you use, just follow the shaping recipes below. If you don’t feel like making your own rolls, consider calling your local bakery—they’ll probably be able to customize a few dozen for you.

Recipe adapted from this Smitten Kitchen recipe

Makes 20 to 24 buns

1 cup water
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoons milk
1 tablespoon honey
1-1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 eggs
1-1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup oat, barley, or spelt flour (or more whole-wheat)
1-1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces
Sesame seeds, wheat bran, flaky salt, chili flakes, poppy seeds, or a combination of any of the above, for sprinkling

1. Combine the water, 1/4 cup of the milk, and honey in a small saucepan and heat until just warm over medium-low heat—it should only take a minute or two. Sprinkle the yeast over the top and let stand for a few minutes until foamy.

2. Meanwhile, combine the flours and salt in a stand mixer. Add the butter and mix at medium-low speed, using the paddle attachment, until incorporated. Pour in the warm liquids and 1 of the eggs, which should be lightly beaten first. Mix with the paddle attachment until combined, then switch to the dough hook and knead for about 5 minutes, until the dough is soft and elastic, pulling from the sides of the bowl but clinging to the base. Add more flour by the tablespoon if the dough seems too wet, but opt for a sticky dough over a wet one—too much flour will make the buns dense.

3. Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl. Gently shape it into a round and toss it in the oil so that the entire surface has a light coating. Lightly press a piece of plastic wrap directly on top, then transfer to the refrigerator to rise overnight. It should double in size. Remove from the fridge and let them warm up slightly for about an hour. (Alternatively, you can let this rise out on the counter; it will take 1 to 2 hours, and will be looser and stickier to work with, requiring more flour later on when you shape.)

4. To shape the buns, divide the dough into 4 pieces. Roll each one into a log about an inch and a half in diameter, then divide each log into 4 or 5 pieces. Shape them into ping-pong sized balls by rolling each piece of dough between your hands or against the counter, cupping your hand over it and working it in a circular motion. The dough should still be fairly chilled, which will make it easier to work with and unlikely to stick much, but if it is sticky, lightly flour your work surface and your hands as needed. Repeat with remaining dough, arranging the buns on two parchment-lined baking sheets. Cover with a clean towel or pieces of plastic wrap and let stand in a warm place to rise until doubled in size, which will take 1-1/2 to 2-1/2 hours.

5. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

6. Whisk together remaining egg and 1 tablespoon milk in a small bowl. Brush the egg wash over the buns, then sprinkle with your adornments of choice. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until golden on the tops and bottoms. Cool completely.

A green salad seems so easy, so boring, but it’s one of those essential dishes like pasta, scrambled eggs, or a pot of beans, where the magic is in the details. I make one with pretty much every dinner I serve, and it ranks high in my list of favorite foods—salad with dinner is how I grew up, though I’ve come a ways from the Thousand Island dressing-ed and bagged Caesar salad-ed days of my youth. Nothing is quite as reliably refreshing. A pile of perfectly dressed greens, speckled with few or many adornments, and glistening with some bright zing and rich fruitiness in the form of a vinaigrette, is just what I want to round out a meal.

Good lettuce is a no-brainer. Save rubbery or wilted lettuce for . . . well, you might sauté it if it’s a hearty green like spinach or arugula or throw it into a smoothie, but for the most part you’ll probably just want to compost it. Some lettuces, if it looks like there’s some life left in them, can be revitalized by soaking them in ice water for 10 to 15 minutes. There are lots of good-quality pre-washed organic baby lettuces and lettuce blends out there, and I’m certainly not embarrassed to buy them. But lately, I’ve been most often drawn to the heads of green- and red-leaf lettuce sold still attached to its roots, from one of the stands at the farmer’s market near my apartment. It’s incredible how long these lettuces last—the one pictured, I bought it over a week and a half ago. I just pluck off leaves as I need them. 

From there, the rest of the work falls into place with the help of some good olive oil and acid in the form of lemon or vinegar, and a few adornments based on whatever’s on hand. Lately I like adding pickled red onions to my salads, but often don’t have the time (or the foresight) to make a proper batch. So I’ve come up with this quick method, outlined below, to which I sometimes add other vegetables like carrots or baby turnips, that benefit from a bit of softening. Then the vinegar acts as the beginning of the dressing. “Meatier” vegetables like some roasted beets, cauliflower, or broccoli are nice to add, too; I chop or slice them thinly and add them to the greens gingerly, else they weigh the whole thing down. And for a main-dish salad, I always need some protein. Most often this comes in the form of a shower of nuts or seeds and/or a quartered hard-boiled egg, as below. Good cheese—like a few crumbles of blue or goat cheese, or some finely grated hard cheese like pecorino or parmesan or aged gouda—should be added with a light hand. Too much cheese will leaded up the whole thing.

Green salads should always be assembled just before you eat them. You can usually prepare the components ahead of time, but once assembled and dressed, the clock is ticking. Use your favorite vinaigrette, and I have many favorite recipes for those. Or if you’ve got an olive oil that you really like, showcase that. Drizzle it right on top, dust the whole thing with fresh cracked pepper, and toss it with your hands. Be sure to taste a piece to see how it jibes with the vinegar, and adjust the balance as needed. (If you’ not soaking vegetables in vinegar beforehand as specified in the recipe below, sprinkle the vinegar over the salad at the same time as the olive oil.) And from there don’t waste any time getting to the table.

Simple Green Salad with Pickled Carrots and Onions

I hope it’s a given that this salad is immensely versatile—the recipe below is really just a blueprint. Make omissions and substitutions as you please, and double, triple, or quadruple to fit your meal plans. 

1 serving

4 or 5 very thin slices of red onion, broken into rings
1/2 medium carrot, peeled then sliced into thin rounds with a vegetable peeler
Big pinch salt
Pinch sugar
1 scant tablespoon good red wine vinegar
1 egg
3–4 tablespoons raw sunflower seeds
2-3 cups crisp lettuce leaves
1 small roasted beet, peeled and sliced thinly
Good olive oil

Place the onion rings and carrot slices in your serving bowl. Sprinkle with the salt and sugar, then sprinkle with the vinegar. Stir so that the vegetables are well coated in the vinegar, then let stand, stirring occasionally, for at least 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, hard-boil the egg: Place it in a small saucepan, cover with cold water, then place the pan over a high flame. When the water comes to a boil, remove it from the heat, cover with a lid, and let stand for 10 minutes. Immediately drain off the hot water and shock the egg in a bowl of ice water to cool for about 5 minutes. Peel and quarter the egg.

Also meanwhile, toast the sesame seeds in a skillet over medium heat for 4 to 5 minutes, swirling frequently, until they’re aromatic and darken a shade.

To assemble the salad, place the greens over the carrots and onions—don’t drain off the vinegar. Top with the beet slices, sunflower seeds, and about a tablespoon of olive oil. Toss gently with your hands, ensuring that each leaf is coated in the dressing. Taste a leaf, and add more vinegar or olive oil as you see fit. Arrange the egg over the top of the salad and serve.

If you want a show-stopping vegetarian dish for an upcoming holiday party, this is it. Vegetarian pâté is new to me—I might not be old enough to have experienced it in its heyday, which I’m guessing was the eighties, and I admit I’ve never thought to look up a recipe—but I now understand the appeal. It’s such a striking addition to a feast, such a validating reward for some hard work in the kitchen, and it’s delicious, too, sliced up into thick, cold slabs and smeared on crackers or bread.

Jeanne Lemlin’s Simply Satisfying is a book I’ve had in my kitchen for a while now. My friend and editor, Matthew Lore, loaned me his copy of the first edition, which was titled Vegetarian Pleasures, published in 1986, and one of the recipes I found there inspired the corn soufflé in Vegetarian Entrees that Won’t Leave You Hungry. Then I had the pleasure of working on the photo shoot for this recent reissue (with photographer Cara Howe and stylist Maria del mar Sacasa), in which the title changed to Simply Satisfying, and sampled many of the recipes firsthand.

When I first started flipping through the first edition I was skeptical. Would these recipes hold up to today’s vegetarian trends, to the Heidi Swansons and Yotom Ottolenghis and Sprouted Kitchens? I’m happy to report that they do, and in many ways it’s Jeanne’s easy approachability that I find to be so welcome: her methods are clear and straightforward, she calls for ingredients that I’ve got on hand or that can be procured without much trouble at all, and, for the most part, there’s the promise of a meal that’ll be ready in a relatively short amount of time. I love the Indian Eggplant Dip, the Chocolate Oatmeal Bars, and the Baked Chickpeas Provencale, all of which have worked their way into my regular kitchen repertoire. And then of course she doesn’t shy away from a bit of butter, olive oil, or cheese . . . her recipes are by no means exercises in excess, but they’re not terribly righteous, either.

While this pâté is essentially simple and definitely satisfying, block out a good chunk of time when you make it, and don’t try to do it on the same day you want to serve it. One of the last times I made it, it kept me up until about 3 AM. There are three different layers, then you’ll assemble and bake it in a bain marie, then let it cool most of the way, then unmold it and let it cool further, and then put it into the fridge—all alongside a radpidly growing pile of dirty dishes. Seems fussy, but it could easily be much more fussy, and it is possible to multitask. And plus, who doesn’t enjoy a good challenge, a chance to make a mess every now and then?

It’s all very worth it, especially as this layered pâté is a great way to sneak a vegetarian option onto a charcuterie platter, or as dramatic light side dish or first course. Each layer is rich with perfectly seasoned vegetables—sweet, cinnamon spiked carrots on the top, buttery leeks in the middle, and bright green spinach on the bottom—and taken together they create a festive, complex harmony. Serve it well chilled, with some herbed yogurt on the side, or spicy spiked mayonnaise, or unadorned, with toasted bread or crackers. Brace yourself for the oohs and ahhs.

Jeanne Lemlin’s Layered Vegetable Pate

From Simply Satisfying (recipe reprinted with permission of the publisher)

A couple notes: I adapted this for mini loaf pans, which allowed me to capitalize on all my efforts—I’m bringing this to three different holiday parties, but I only had to make it once! If you’re unsure what the capacity of your loaf pans are, measure them with water; the mixture fits into one 1-1/2 quart, or three 2-cup mini loaves very snugly, and it’s crucial that the filling is packed right to the brim (otherwise it’ll rise in the oven, and you don’t want that; it’ll completely compromise the texture and design of a pâté). I strongly recommend doing a quick batch of dishes between each layer—save yourself the hassle of a huge mess later. Lastly, I hardly modified Jeanne’s recipe at all—I substituted parsley for basil and feta for parmesan, based on what I had on hand. But perhaps you’ll see this recipe as a springboard for all kinds of variations, and I hope you’ll share your inspirations with me.

Makes 3 mini loaves or 1 large loaf, enough to easily serve 12

1 tablespoon melted butter, for greasing pan(s)

Carrot Layer
1 pound carrots, thinly sliced
2 eggs
1/4 cup cream
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
Pinch cinnamon
Several grinds fresh black pepper
1/2 cup breadcrumbs

Leek Layer
4 medium to large leeks, trimmed, sliced thinly, and rinsed thoroughly (about 6 cups)
2 tablespoons butter
2 eggs
1/4 cup breadcrumbs
1/4 cup cream
1/2 teaspoon salt
Several grinds fresh black pepper

Spinach Layer
Two 10-ounce packages frozen spinach, cooked per package directions and squeezed dry
2 eggs
1/2 cup cream
1/4 cup bread crumbs
1/4 cup crumbled feta (or grated Parmesan)
2 tablespoons minced parsley
1/2 teaspoon salt
Dash cayenne pepper

1. Butter three 2-cup capacity mini loaf pans, or one 1-1/2 quart capacity large loaf pan by brushing the bottoms and sides with melted butter. Line with a long piece of parchment, trimmed to fit the bottom of the pan and with plenty hanging over the sides. Brush melted butter on the parchment. Transfer to the freezer until you’re ready to start assembling. Preheat the oven to 350°.

2. Make the carrot layer: Fill a saucepan with an inch or so of water, fit it with a steaming basket, then add the carrots and steam until they’re very tender, about 12 minutes. Transfer to a food processor and pulse until mostly puréed, then add the eggs, cream, honey, and spices, and process until completely smooth, scraping down the sides with a rubber spatula as needed. Stir in the breadcrumbs, then divide the mixture among the mini-loaves (about 2/3 cup mixture per pan) or spread it into the large loaf pan. Smooth the top(s) with a spoon.

3. Make the leek layer: Melt the butter in a skillet, then add the leeks and a big pinch of salt and sauté until tender, about 10 to 12 minutes. In a mixing bowl, beat together the eggs and cream, then fold in the leeks, breadcrumbs, salt, and pepper. Spread this mixture over the carrot layer(s) (again it’s about 2/3 cup mixture per mini-loaf pan) and smooth the top(s).

4. Beat the eggs and cream in a mixing bowl, then fold in the spinach, breadcrumbs, cheese, parsley, salt, and cayenne. Divide this mixture over the leek layer(s) (again it’s about 2/3 cup mixture per mini-loaf pan), and smooth the top(s). Fold the overhanging parchment over the spinach, ensuring that it’s been brushed with butter and pressing gently so that it adheres, then cover the pan(s) tightly with aluminum foil.

5. Arrange the loaf pan(s) in a deep roasting pan or other large baking pan. Pour water into the pan so that it comes halfway up the sides of the loaf pan(s). Bake for 50 minutes for mini loaves, or about 1 hour and 15 minutes for a large loaf—to test doneness, remove from the bain marie, carefully remove the foil and peel back the parchment, and insert a sharp knife into the pâté; it should come out clean. If not, wrap it back up and return it to the bain marie.

6. Transfer to a cooling rack. Remove the foil and peel back the parchment. Let cool for an hour. Then carefully run a thin knife around the narrow edges, which aren’t layered with parchment, and overturn the loaf/loaves onto a platter and unmold them. Remove the parchment. Let cool for 20 minutes, then cover with plastic wrap or foil and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, and up to 3 days.

Behold, A Vegetable Holiday Feast: a small holiday gift for you and fun project for me. It’s an e-cookbook-type thing that you can download, for free, onto your smart phone or tablet and use it in the kitchen, or print out and file away with the rest of your recipe clippings. Click here to download it.

I’ve wanted to prepare a full holiday meal, with no concessions or compromises, all my way, for as long as I’ve enjoyed cooking. But doing so isn’t necessarily in keeping with the spirit of any holiday. These big gatherings are about the collaborative effort, the company, and the various traditions, new and old, at play.

So instead I hosted a mock Thanksgiving and for that I did it all my way. My friends who came over to eat with me were happy to do so—we loosely call this a “friendsgiving” and do it almost every year; no matter who’s cooking or what we’re eating it’s fun—and I had the pleasure of spending a few weeks testing and fine-tuning my dream menu. 

Take a look at the result, some of which I’ll single out here on the blog in the next couple weeks. It’s fully vegetarian, with vegan and gluten-free adaptations offered where the substitutions work. It’s full of vegetable-centric dishes, and hopefully you’ll find it to be a good source of helpful ideas and tips as you prepare your own feasts. Here’s the full menu:

Bourbon Pecans
Tangy Roasted Parsnip Dip
Squash and Chard Patties with Feta-Yogurt Topping
Brussels Sprouts and Roasted Chestnut Galette
Quinoa and Celery Root Gratin
Kale and Caramelized Onion Focaccia
Simple Salad with Clementine Vinaigrette
Hand-Mashed Yukon Golds
Apple and Cranberry Relish
Shallot Gravy
Pumpkin Sherbet with Gingersnap-Pecan Crumble

I’m thinking about hand-binding a few copies to have for sale at some upcoming markets and events—let me know if you’d be interested in that.

I’ve been neglecting this blog for a while, but I hope this will give you enough to chew on for the next few months. Enjoy, and most of all, have a terrific holiday.

[Free download: A Vegetable Holiday Feast (PDF)]