Given that my first two posts involve alcohol, I just might be establishing myself as the Bay Area Bites Lush. No matter, I think my parents already believe that.

Anyway, as many of you are probably already aware along with all its other good qualities, alcohol has medicinal benefits. My two favorite prescriptions are the classic Hot Toddy and the sophisticated Gin and Tonic.

Whenever I feel a twitchy sniffle coming on, I make bleary eyes at my husband who bustles out to the kitchen to whip up one of his restorative Hot Toddies. I don't know if it's the vitamin C punch the lemon juice packs, or the antiseptic qualities of the Wild Turkey bourbon, or the moisturizing effect of the honey on a sore throat, but whatever it is, after one or two of those, I wake up the next morning with nary a trace of my previous ills. I'm not exactly sure why we get Wild Turkey bourbon but it seems to be my husband's preference. Feel free to make your own choice.

Dr. Mathra's Totally Hot Toddy Recipe:

1/2 cinnamon stick

2 whole cloves

Juice from 1/2 a lemon

1 jigger (1 1/2 oz) bourbon of choice

Boiling water

1 tablespoon honey, preferably local

Crush the cinnamon stick and cloves slightly. A mortar and pestle works well for this as does the bottom of a heavy pan. Put the spices in a heatproof glass or mug and squeeze in the lemon juice. Add the bourbon and pour in the boiling water to fill the glass. Stir in the honey and serve very hot.

This might be a slightly less well-known cure, but for the women out there who suffer from the periodic effects of, well, cramps, I can recommend a quick Gin and Tonic. For years certain holistic circles have used juniper berry and juniper extract as a muscle relaxant, and what better way to ingest juniper than in a nice cool glass of gin and tonic? Manages to make me less irritable as well -- funny how that works.

Stephanie's Cramps-Be-Gone Gin and Tonic Recipe:

Ice cubes

Juice from 1/4 of a lemon

1 jigger (1 1/2 oz) gin of choice

Tonic water

You know, I usually just eyeball this -- pour in one or two fingers of gin (Bombay Sapphire is preferred, but Tanqueray is also nicely smooth), add a squirt of lemon and the tonic, but the other night, I realized that there's actually a very specific ritual to my Gin and Tonics.

I start by dropping in no more than two cubes of ice (any more could dilute the drink and we don't want that, do we?), and then I squeeze the lemon, drizzling the juice over the ice cubes. Next, I drop the spent lemon in the glass and slosh in the measured gin. Fill up the remaining space with tonic water* and serve.

It's not snake oil if it works, right?

*I have decided opinions about many things, especially when it comes to putting stuff in mouth and I definitely have a decided opinion of tonic water. I find Canada Dry far too sweet for a good, bracing Gin and Tonic. Good ol' Schwepps is really the way to go, especially since the Brits are the inventors of the Gin and Tonic as a way to pickle themselves with quinine to fight off malaria in India. But that's another post entirely. Whatever you do, stay away from diet tonic! Shudder.

Every culture has it's comfort food. But soup may be the universal comfort food. Here in the Bay Area we have many cultures to choose from and each probably has a soup that will comfort a cold, a tummy ache, a hangover or even a broken heart.

With the end of the Vietnam war, the Bay Area saw an influx of Vietnamese refugees and in turn many Vietnamese restaurants. In San Francisco near Civic Center on Larkin street, signs went up just last year proclaiming the neighborhood to be "Little Saigon".

Many of the Vietnamese restaurants in the Bay Area serve what is often described as the national dish of Vietnam, pho, a rice noodle soup. But some also serve a type of congee made with chicken and rice that is comfort food, no matter what your country of origin. A terrific place to try this soup is Aux Delices at 2327 Polk street in San Francisco, or you can try making your own version with this recipe.

Vietnamese Chicken Rice Soup (congee)

4 serving

1/8 cup uncooked jasmine rice

1 whole chicken

3 (2 inch) pieces fresh ginger root

1 tablespoon salt, or to taste

1/4 cup chopped white onions

ground black pepper to taste

Place chicken in a stock pot. Pour in enough water to cover chicken. Add ginger and salt; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and gently simmer for 1 hour to 1 1/2 hours.

Strain broth, and return broth to stock pot. Let chicken cool, then remove bones and skin, and tear into bite-size pieces; set aside.

Stir rice and onion into broth, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium, and cook for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. If necessary, adjust with water or additional salt, cook an additional 45 minutes for a thick consistency.

Ladle soup into bowls, and top with chicken and pepper.

To learn about Vietnamese Americans and the relationship between the US and Vietnam, visit Frontline: Vietnam Looking for Home

I love ice cream. No, I mean I really love ice cream. I love ice cream so much that I ditched our ancient, puny, barely-functioning refrigerator and bought a new refrigerator because the old one wouldn't freeze my ice cream canister. I even had to rip out two of the six cabinets in our kitchen to fit a normal-sized refrigerator. No, I swear it's true.

I decided that if I was going to go to such lengths for ice cream, then the next step would be to figure out how to maximize the potential of my electric ice cream maker. It's a Cuisinart. It gets really good reviews, and it does work well as long as you use it correctly. After much trial and error, here are the steps that I found were crucial:

1) Freeze the hell out of the canister and don't take it out of the freezer until you are completely set up and ready to freeze your creamy delight.

2) Everything should be prepared in advance. The ice cream base needs to be super cold. The machine should be on the work surface, plugged in. Have an ice cream receptacle (that you will transfer the semi-frozen treat into) ready along with some plastic wrap. Get a rubber spatula.

3) Your adrenaline should kick in at this point. Everything needs to be done quickly. Run to the freezer, grab the canister, slam it onto the machine base, put the beater into place, put on the top, turn on the machine, and then pour in your base.

4) Okay, now you can relax, sit back, have a glass of wine, make some chocolate sauce, whatever. Just keep that motor running for about 30 minutes. Once your base starts to resemble ice cream, you need to start moving quickly again. Use the spatula to get it into the receptacle. Seal it with a kiss, or plastic wrap, and toss it into the freezer for a little while to firm up.

Of course, none of this matters if you don't have a good recipe. Personally, I prefer French-style custard ice cream, rich with egg yolks and cream. If you are even thinking of substituting skim milk for the cream, don't bother making the ice cream. Gelato is a whole different story (don't worry, I'll get to that in another IC Chron). Which is what leads me to my new favorite ice cream recipe: Meyer lemon ice cream. (Yes, ice cream is seasonal, good for all seasons, and just as delicious in the winter as it is in the heat of the summer--you just have to crank up the heat and snuggle under a blanket to enjoy it).

Kim's Meyer Lemon Ice Cream

4 large Meyer lemons, preferably organic

1 pint heavy whipping cream

3/4 cup whole milk

1/2 vanilla bean, halved lengthwise

5 large egg yolks, preferably organic

Scant 1 cup granulated sugar

Use a sharp peeler to remove only the colored part of the lemon zest from 2 lemons, in large strips. Try not to remove the bitter white pith, but if you do, you can use a small, sharp knife to scrape it off. In a saucepan, gently heat the cream and milk just until steaming and small bubbles form around the edge of the pan. Use the small knife to scrape the seeds out of the vanilla bean pod and add the pod, seeds, and lemon zest strips to the warm cream. Remove from the heat, cover, and let infuse for 30 minutes.

Place a medium-sized bowl inside a large bowl filled with ice water. Set aside.

In a clean saucepan, heat 1-2 inches of water over medium heat until simmering. Using a balloon whisk, in a heatproof bowl, beat together the egg yolks and sugar until smooth and very pale yellow. Reheat the cream mixture just until it begins to steam, but before it boils, and then slowly pour it in stages through a fine-mesh sieve into the yolk mixture, whisking as you add it (it's easier if you ask someone to help you with this step). Stir the mixture together thoroughly and then place the bowl on top of the saucepan of simmering water. Stir the mixture slowly until it thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon (or reaches 185F/85C). Be careful of the steam when you remove the bowl from the saucepan. Pour the ice cream base into the medium bowl (the one set in the larger bowl of ice water). Use a fine zester (a microplane works best) to zest the remaining two lemons into the base. Stir and let the base cool to room temperature. Press a sheet of plastic wrap onto the top of the base, cover, and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or preferably overnight.

When you are ready to make the ice cream, juice the 4 Meyer lemons and strain the juice through a fine-mesh sieve. Stir the juice into the ice cream base. Review the steps of setting up the ice cream maker (esp if you have a Cuisinart like I do) and then freeze the ice cream according to the manufacturer's directions (or mine). Scrape the base into an airtight container and freeze for at least 1 hour before serving. Enjoy!

Yeah, from the look on the wine guy's face at Andronico's, he clearly thought we were yanking his chain when we asked him that. Once we explained that yes, wine in a can actually existed, and no, we weren't two of the horseman of the Apocalypse, he shrugged and pointed to Sophia in a bottle. He didn't have the canned stuff but BevMo did.

Sofia is a sparkling Blanc de Blanc (100% white Chardonnay grapes; no ruddy Pinot Noir grapes were harmed when making this wine) wine in a slim pink can from Coppola Vineyards. Is it a gimmick? That's pretty much what my husband announced when he unwrapped the bendy, extendable fuchsia straw and poked it into the mouth of the aluminum can. I decided it would only be a gimmick if the wine in the can tasted like it was wine in a can.

Well, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. Maybe I'm only a seasonal sparkling wine drinker, but the two cans I sucked down certainly didn't make me want to go out and stock my wine cellar (it's really only a box under the table) with hexagonal metallic pink boxes. There is nothing special or transcendent about the taste -- it's even slightly astringent on my throat, which means it's too dry for my palate -- and I think a price tag of $18.00 for what amounts to four glasses of wine is a bit steep just for the packaging. I am a sucker for packaging, though, which is why I wanted to try the wine in the first place. But overall: meh.

The straw actually needs to go back to the wine in a can engineers. It order for it to be extendable, it's made up of two separate pieces of tube -- one within another -- and at the joint, there's no airtight seal. Ever tried to sip a Coke with a straw that's been punctured? Same effect. Lots of sucking, not much drinking.

I guess club kids and socialites can go on sipping from these little cans and feel sophisticated and trendy but as I got up the last bit of wine with my straw, the loud slurping noise certainly wasn't sophisticated. Maybe smashing the can on my forehead was trendy?

For anyone who cares about the sustainability of our food system and agriculture, I highly recommend Jared Diamond's new book Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed. Diamond got a Pulitzer Prize a few years ago for Guns, Germs, and Steel -- which I found mind-blowing and also recommend to anyone who is interested in the Big Picture when it comes to food. In Collapse, Diamond asks the question:

Why do some societies collapse and some endure?

In order to answer the question, he looks at past civilizations, both ones that collapsed (Easter Island, Anasazi, Classic Maya, Norse Greenland) and ones that endured (Inuit, New Guinea, Japan). He looks at a number of different contributing factors, but those of us who study sustainable agriculture will be particularly interested in his strong emphasis on use of resources, especially for food. The availability of wild foods and the ability to cultivate domesticated foods on the same land century after century are huge factors. For people like me who are fascinated by native foodways, the book is also full of details about traditional diets.

I am only halfway through the book, and Diamond is about to look at modern examples of collapse vs. sustainability, including Haiti vs. Dominican Republic, Rwanda, and Australia. He'll conclude with what we can learn from the past successes and failures of human beings to live within their means. I can't wait to hear what he has to say...

Jessica Prentice

One of the latest books to get cooks excited is not a cookbook. Not exactly. It's an updated version of Bay Area local Harold McGee's groundbreaking book, On Food and Cooking, The Science and Lore of the Kitchen. The new version has been revised and updated, twenty years after originally published.

This book has long been a favorite of professional chefs in part because it is easily digested, making food science accessible and practical. After training and a vocation in physics and astronomy, McGee came back down to earth, first teaching literature then writing a book on the most practical science, that of the kitchen. Stanford and Berkeley Universities may be filled with Noble prize winning scientists, but McGee is surely the most popular scientist among cooks.

While professional chefs are innovating, home cooks may simply be trying to perfect a favorite recipe. Curious about the history of chocolate or how to more safely prepare a rare hamburger? Want to know the five different techniques for making hollandaise sauce? McGee is your go to guy. Not just a book about science, there is plenty of history and tips and health information to feed your hunger for knowledge. It may just be the ultimate kitchen resource book.

Click here to hear Michael Krasny's interview with Harold McGee that aired on Forum last month.

While this is certainly not a news flash for you crustacean lovers out there, it is Dungeness crab season. The highlight of winter in the bay area. Okay, well, that and Meyer lemons. And what a pair they make. Crab cakes, cracked crab, crab salad, crab risotto (all with a squeeze of a Meyer)... So of course, naturally, the last two times we've had gatherings at our house, we've made crab cakes. New Year's Eve we made two trays full of crabby bites of heaven. And tonight, in celebration of one of our closest friends being born, we will crack open a bottle of Prosecco, pluck a few Meyer lemons off the tree, and fry up some tender, delectable crab cakes. If you are now drooling (please wipe your mouth), and feel like you simply cannot go on without a bite of these, please don't come over, just make them for yourself!

Kim's Crab Cakes

Makes about 16-18 medium crab cakes

About 1 1/2 pounds fresh Dungeness crabmeat, about 3 medium crabs*

*If you can find them and have the time, cook live crabs; otherwise there are some great seafood markets that cook them fresh each day. Just don't use canned or frozen! If you use pre-cooked crab, I find it best to gently rinse it in a fine-mesh strainer under cold water and pat it dry before moving on

About 2 cups (fresh) dried bread crumbs**

**I use challah because it's rich and eggy and a little bit sweet. Just throw the loaf in the Cuisinart and process it until you have fine crumbs then toast in a 350F oven for about 10 minutes or so

2 large eggs (preferably organic), beaten

1/4 cup mayonnaise (preferably homemade)

2 teaspoons dijon mustard

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

large pinch of kosher or sea salt

2 tablespoons of finely diced red bell peppers

1 tablespoon of finely snipped chives

1/4 cup canola oil

Meyer lemons, cut into wedges, for serving

In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, mayo, mustard, Worcestershire, and salt until smooth. Stir in the peppers and chives. Gently stir in the crab meat (try not to break up all the nice meaty chunks!) and then stir in 1 cup of the bread crumbs. The mixture should be fairly wet, but you should be able to form a crab cake. Form into about 16-18 medium-sized cakes. Put the cakes on a plate or platter, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to fry; the cakes can be made up to 3 hours in advance.

Heat the oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Put the remaining cup of bread crumbs onto a plate and lightly coat each side of each crab cake. Place about half of the cakes into the hot pan. You should be able to fry the crab cakes in two batches. Transfer to a paper-towel lined plate to drain, then fry the other half. Serve at once with plenty of Meyer lemons.

"Bay Area Bites" is a product of KQED.org Cooking, a component of San Francisco's Public Broadcasting website. This food blog combines the expertise and insight of a number of Bay Area food writers and professionals who bring their unique perspectives to this virtual table.

KQED.org Cooking has an excellent list of recommended cookbooks spanning a variety of culinary categories, a hot topics section providing resources on food safety and politics, recipes from Jacques Pepin's latest program Jacques Pepin: Fast Food My Way, recipes from Joanne Weir's Weir Cooking in the City, local Farmers' Market resources and food-related web information.