Why is this fish sweating? He isn't. Fish can't sweat. They don't have sweat glands. But he does look rather distressed. Why does he look distressed? Because he was painted that way. He's not real.

If he did have the slightest understanding of human food ways, Fridays would be met with a great deal of anxiety indeed. There are more than one billion Catholics around the world.

And it's Lent.

My family was not the greatest model of a Catholic household. Neither son was an alter boy, holy days of obligation were not obligatory, and an experiment with Catholic school was an unmitigated disaster for my sister, ending with her prompt placement in a public school after her habit-wearing instructress was not-so-quietly removed in a piece of protective (for others) outerwear. So the story goes. But somehow, we always managed to eat fish on Fridays.

To my own horror, this invariably meant a tuna fish sandwich in my lunchbox, the smell of which permeated the plastic and even the skin of the accompanying brownish banana. I loathed this part of Lent. But, of course, Lent is about privation and penance. Lent is also about alms-giving, but try as I might, no one-- not even the poorest of my classmates-- wanted my tuna sandwich.

The one, bright, fish-related candle upon my Lenten cake was the occasional Friday foray to Anthony's Fish and Chips, a dark, wood panelled establishment housed in a mini-mall that smelled, unsurprisingly, of grease-- both from the fryer and from the heads of the old men that always seemed to be loitering around the place. My mother or sister would send themselves down the road to pick up a bright pink box filled with monoliths of battered cod and hot, steamy fried potatoes. Fish and Chips. It was the only seafood we ever saw as kids, barring the occasional shrimp cocktail. I loved it.

I had nearly forgotten how much I enjoyed fish and chips until it was suggested the other week that, while visiting friends in Redwood City, we all go have some for lunch.

We went to Al's Fish n' Chips on Roosevelt Boulevard, located in an unassuming mini-mall not unlike those of my suburban youth. It led me to question whether or not there was some sort of zoning law specifically targeting such establishments.

We ordered several items, but the fish and chips ($7.95 for a two-piece order) really stood out in my mind. It was (and I don't use this word often) perfect. A crisp, flavorful batter coating that complimented rather than competed with the tender, steamy cod inside. The chips were nearly the same. A tad thinner than the usual chunky chips associated with the dish, but still thick enough to produce both exterior crunch and inner steam. Everything we consumed there was fresh and really very good (the black beans? Yes, do try). I nearly wet myself with joy. And I cursed myself for not having my camera with me.

The following weekend, I rode up to Sausalito for a morning run to Heath Ceramics with my friend Mark. He suggested lunch at Fish nearby. There was no need to twist my arm. No guessing what we ordered.

I was a bit shocked at the sticker price-- $21.00 for beer-battered fish (3 pieces) and chips. It was, however, extremely good. I just had to tell myself that I was sitting in a restaurant in Sausalito and not in a suburban mini-mall. Perhaps the proximity of a bait and tackle shop adds incalculably more to property value than, say, a Tan n' Nails.

The final stop on my cod binge was a place in my neighborhood I've wandered by for years-- Piccadilly Fish n' Chips. A fire knocked it out of commission a little while back but it has returned. I ordered the 2-piece fish and chips, of course, for $6.95. Since this is classic English takeaway, I did just that. What made me happiest was the fact that my order was wrapped in newspaper-- the SF Weekly. I stifled any impulse I had to engage in Cockney rhyming slang, since I was the only person in the place apart from the sweet woman making my fish who is, I believe, Korean. And I'm not a Cockney. I took away my take-away.

When I arrived home, I found that the fish and chips had continued to steam as they snuggled in the Pink Section-- exactly what is supposed to happen. To my joy, the fish was still crispy, but not beer-battered; more tempura in style-- delicate, brittle and pock-marked. It was good. I ignored the small packets of tartar sauce and made my own impromptu condiment of mayonnaise, chopped sweet pickles and cider vinegar (since I didn't have the traditional malt vinegar handy). It worked in the pinch. Disappointing, however, were the chips. Rather soggy and bland. Of course, I am partly to blame. I was the first person in Piccadilly's door at 11:00 am and these were the first batch of chips of the day. I should have known better. The fish (and the price point) will bring me back.

All this battered cod and fries over the past few days. I'm actually not sick of it. Could you, my reading public (yes, all three of you) tell me of other, great places to go for a Friday Night Fish Fry? I'm all ears. And all stomach.

And now for the history lesson.

A Brief History of Fish and Chips
The potato has been known to the English since the late 16th century-- about the time that old canard about Sir Walter Raleigh introducing it to a grateful nation started making its rounds. According to The Straight Dope, the Irish refused to plant them, since potatoes were not mentioned in the Bible. They have since eaten their words. It was the French, naturally, who invented pommes frites, in the 1840's.

Fish has, not surprisingly, been known to the English for a much longer time. They live on an island, after all. Frying the fish is believed to have become popular in England in the early mid-19th century, even being mentioned in Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.

There is a bit of controversy as to where the inspired idea of combining fried fish with fried potatoes first occurred. A Mr. Lees opened a fish and chip shop in Mossley, Lancashire in 1863 while a Mr. Joseph Malin opened his London shoppe in 1860. Or 1865. No one is certain. The National Federation of Fish Friers recognizes that both should share the Oscar. They ought to know, since an average of 300 million servings of fish and chips are served each year in Britain. That's six servings for every human.

Fish has a rather entertaining website, its map is drawn on a napkin.

350 Harbor Drive
Sausalito, CA 9465 (latitude and longitude also given)
415) 331-FISH

Open seven days a week
11:30 am- 4:30 pm for lunch
5:30 pm- 8:30 pm for dinner

Piccadilly Fish and Chips
1345 Polk Street (at Pine)
San Francisco, CA 94109

Open seven days a week

Monday- Thursday 11 am - 11 pm
Friday 11 am - midnight
Saturday 11 am - 11 pm
Sunday 1 pm - 11 pm

Al's Fish n' Chips
2139 Roosevelt Avenue
Redwood City, CA 94061
650) 366-FISH

Open seven days a week

Monday - Thursday 11 am - 8 pm
Friday - 11 am - 8:30 pm
Saturday - 11 am - 8 pm
Sunday - 11 am - 7:30 pm

* Oh. A food person's fun(ish) fact about Lent. Marie-Antoine Carême's last name means "Lent", derived from the Latin quadragesima. Go now, and impress your friends.

Ever since Jessica Seinfeld’s book “Deceptively Delicious” was a hit last year, I’ve been contemplating why people feel the need to hide vegetables in their children's meals. I need to say up front that the idea of hiding vegetables in food has always made me cringe. Although I would like to think my dislike for being "deceptive" is due to my belief that parents should always be honest with their children, I must admit my sensibility as a true vegetable lover is offended as well.

I am also confused as to why this book was such a big hit. I realize that the author is Jerry Seinfeld's wife, and that the exposure she received from her publisher is pretty impressive, but is there more to the story (other than another cookbook author suing both Seinfelds for plagiarism)? My question is: why has the vegetable become persona non grata at the family dinner table?

I can think of many reasons why parents should avoid hiding vegetables in their kids' food. For one thing, if the veggies are hidden, kids have no idea they’re actually eating them. Although this may seem to be the point of masquerading them in the first place, it sets up a scenario where children grow up thinking they can live vegetable-free lives. Okay, maybe not vegetable free entirely, but if vegetables aren't a part of a child's regular daily food consumption, she (or he) won't acquire a taste for them and so won't necessarily want to eat them as an adult. Stealth recipes, as Ms. Seinfeld calls them, can eventually backfire. The trick of pureeing and chopping up vegetables so children don't notice them will only work for so long. At some point, those little smarties will figure it out and when they do, they'll get the message that vegetables are "gross" and inedible, worthy only of being smashed to bits and hidden in meat, pasta or cheese. I realize that many parents themselves aren't vegetables lovers, but instead of throwing in the towel and passing on an aversion to an essential food group, I suggest exploring new and different ways of eating and preparing vegetables with the kids.

With this in mind, here are some suggestions for serving vegetables in an open and honest way with your family. They may not all work for you, but the chances that one or two of these suggestions could make even a small impact is worth a try.

1. Take your children with you to the store or farmer’s market to pick out the vegetables themselves. Show them the variety of vegetables available, as well as the vibrant colors and different textures. When you get home, your kids will be more excited about the vegetables they've chosen for the family dinner table and more likely to eat them.

2. Take your child to the farmer’s market and speak with the farmer or sales person about the vegetables that are currently in season. This will help your children to build a curiosity about where their food comes from.

3. Grow your own vegetables if you have a yard. And, even if you don't, try growing some small container plants like cherry tomatoes or peppers. After growing a vegetable for weeks to months, your child will be excited to get to pick it her or himself and, more importantly, eat it.

Note: Gardening doesn't have to be labor intensive. If you want to spend a lot of time in your yard, you can have a beautiful garden, but this isn't necessary. Just pick a few plants to grow and be sure to water them every couple of days.

4. Ask your child to help you cook. They can help you wash the vegetables, peel them, chop with supervision, and actually do some of the cooking. If your child feels a sense of pride about the meal your family is eating, he or she is more likely to want to eat it.

Idea: One way to do this, now that it's almost Spring, is to buy fresh English peas in the pod and spend time with your kids shelling them. This is a fun hands-on experience that my daughters love. Oh, and be sure to let them taste them raw.

5. Make vegetables fun by purchasing them in a new way.

Idea: Try buying purple potatoes or different colored carrots to spark your child's interest. In the Fall, you can also buy Brussels sprouts on the stalk. When my daughters were about four, they weren't thrilled with sprouts until we bought them this way; but, after an afternoon of plucking them off the stem and then pretending the stem was a scepter, they loved them. I now try to buy the sprouts on the stalk as often as I can. Buying Brussels sprouts has become an event instead of a hated side dish (I don't have a picture of Brussels sprouts on the stem here as they’re not in season, but check out those purple carrots!).

6. Respect that your child will not love every vegetable and allow them to name one or two that they prefer not to eat. Then ask them which vegetables they love and make a point to eat one of them that evening.

7. Try serving some vegetables raw with dip as part of your meal or as a snack. Great vegetables to use are carrots, peppers, cucumbers, snap peas, green beans, broccoli, and fennel.

8. Try cooking vegetables in a different way. Sometimes a child's aversion may be to the texture or preparation of a dish, rather than the vegetable itself.

Idea: Instead of steaming cauliflower, try chopping it up into small florets and roasting it with olive oil and butter topped with some fresh bread crumbs.

9. Serve vegetables every day so they become a natural part of the meal.

10. Be sure to eat your own plate of vegetables in front of your child so they see you enjoying them yourself. In this case, actions really do speak far louder than words.

Lee's favorite food is Japanese. When we celebrate his birthday or really any occasion it's Japanese food that he wants. Much as I love Japanese food, and I really do, I have to say Italian is still my all-time favorite. Italian food just spells comfort to me. I love rustic food and great ingredients treated well but not fussed over. Ok, I like them fussed over some of the time. But on a day to day basis nothing makes me happier than a plate of pasta, risotto, or even polenta.

It should come as no surprise that I was utterly charmed by Massimo's Italian Kitchen. The subtitle is not totally accurate, "authentic one-dish meals from a seasoned chef" because there are plenty of desserts and side dishes too. That said, there isn't a recipe in this book I wouldn't make, except perhaps the tripe soup, I'm still a bit squeamish about tripe. The photos really do a good job of showing the food, which when it comes to rustic food is not always so easy. A fancy plated dessert is much easier to shoot than say rice and pea soup or handmade noodles with ragu.

The recipes are written in a very conversational style, but are generally not that complicated or long. One of the things I particularly like about the book is the large number of both vegetable dishes and one pot meals that include less common vegetables like radicchio and cabbage. Living in Italy I discovered how much vegetables were loved. In fact, they were usually served as their own course to be totally savored without distraction.

This book covers the different regions that the chef has knowledge of and is a nice compilation for the intermediate home cook looking for something beyond Italian-American classics. Recipes include Winter Salad with Potatoes and Apples, Garganelli with Fava Beans and Crispy Prosciutto, Risotto with White Asparagus, Black Pepper and Wild Strawberries and Baked Cardoons with Pecorino.

Pork Spareribs and Cabbage
Costine di Mailale e Verze

Makes 4 servings

4 whole racks baby back ribs
salt and pepper
1 Tablespoon sugar
3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1 cup julienned onion
1/2 cup white wine
2 Tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 Tablespoon tomato paste
1 cup chopped fresh tomatoes (note: I think canned would be fine here)
1 cup chicken stock
1 head cabbage

Wash the rib and pat dry. Cut between each bone to separate them, and season with salt, pepper, and sugar.

Heat the olive oil in a heavy-bottomoed pot over medium-high heat. Add the ribs and sear until golden brown. Add the garlic and onion and cook for a few minutes.

Pour in the wine and vinegar and cook until they evaporate. Stir in the tomato paste and then the tomatoes. Pour in the chicken stock, reduce the heat, and simmer for about 20 minutes, covered.

In the meantime remove each leaf from the cabbage and cut our the center spine, splitting the leaf in two. Cut the cabbage into wide juliennes. Add the cabbage to the meat, season with salt and pepper, stir, and cover. SImmer until the cabbage is tender about 10 minutes.

Reprinted from Massimo's Italian Kitchen, Seller's Publishing 2008

I admit to being a bit of a design snob. I initially judge blogs on the way that they look or their terrible photos rather than the quality of their writing. And I often want to avoid restaurants whose websites have irritated me in one way or another. Of course, once I look further into some of those blogs I find writing I love, and once I actually go to some of those restaurants I find I enjoy them. But first impressions mean a lot.

A couple of days ago, a friend was asking me for a restaurant recommendation. Easy task, I thought. I had some restaurants in mind and just needed to check and see if they were open and send her the websites. What should have been a 5-minute email turned into a half-hour nightmare as I slogged through websites that are more intent on impressing me with movies, music, and other annoyances than on giving me direct information.

Hear this, restaurants: We are not looking to your sites for entertainment. We want to get our information, get out, and get back to watching Eli Stone. Noise of clinking glasses or a dull roar or fancy music does not make us want to go to your restaurant more, it just tips off our employers that we are making dinner plans instead of filing our TPS reports. We don't want to sit through 30 second flash movies of how happy we'll be if we go to your restaurant. We just want the facts: When are you open, what's for dinner, and how much does it cost. And I want to do that in as few clicks as possible.

Oh, and also? We are in the Bay Area -- arguably the technology capital of the world. How difficult is it to learn to code up a simple HTML page? Why are you still making us click through to PDF's of your menus or (horrors) Word documents? It's all about time for me, and opening up the pdf takes up my precious seconds.

MY FAVORITES

Some of my favorite restaurant websites are super basic, nice to look at, and tell me all I need to know.

Spork. Looking at this website makes me want to spend my hard-earned money to hire this designer to redo all other restaurant websites. It's gorgeous.

Bar Jules. The lovely Bar Jules site changes daily and tells us what's for lunch and dinner.

Slanted Door. Chock full of information, and has a handy plug-in to make an Open Table reservation.

Arizmendi Bakery. Arizmendi's pizza changes daily, and Arizmendi has a calendar for the whole month of delicious flavors.

SITES THAT MAKE ME WANT TO SCRATCH MY EYES OUT
(warning, many of these have music)

Bix. I want to send a friend directly to Bix's list of cocktails, as I had an excellent one there the other night. Oh wait ... the whole site is in FLASH so I can't send a direct link!

Market Bar. Don't. Resize. My. Browser. Ever. (And while you're at it, you might want to get spellcheck. Mediterranean is spelled with one "t".)

Spruce. Let's review how many steps I have to go through to find the Spruce dinner menu:

1) wait for flash site to load
2) click "menus"
3) click "food"
4) click "dinner"
5) change my browser to allow pop-ups for this site
6) PDF!

House. Give us prices. Seriously. Not having prices reeks of pretentiousness and is absolutely useless.

And then we have a "bandwidth exceeded" message over at 1300 Fillmore.

Fortunately for us consumers, there are ways around these horrid websites. Menu Pages, while not the prettiest site out there, lists over 4000 menus in San Francisco. And Yelp is the easiest place I've found to figure out restaurant hours.

Let's call out all the bad restaurant websites -- which would you nominate? What are your pet peeves?

Once a month or so, my mother sends me a box from home filled with food. The last one, timed perfectly for lunar new year, included a batch of rice cakes. Before I even saw them, though, I knew there was treasure buried somewhere deep beneath her homemade peanut brittle, gingery mustard pickles from the last greens in her garden and bags of candied coconut used as packing material. The distinctive green-tea aroma of banana leaves had emerged as soon as the packing tape was cut.

Throughout the tropical sun belt, banana leaves appear as easy, inexpensive, natural, sanitary--and most importantly--delicious packaging. From Mexican tamales to Indian wedding feasts, Malaysian lunches to Vietnamese fast food, the leaves provide pliable wrapping, compostable tableware and a lovely flavoring for steamed or simmered specialties. Throughout Southeast Asia, you'll see banana-wrapped foods for sale as street food. Food sealed within their layers and then cooked slowly will keep for days without being refrigerated. Traditional foods for the lunar new year period are often cooked in banana leaves, especially for serving during the first three days when families are supposed to be enjoying each other's company rather than cooking.

For my mom and all my generous, food-loving aunts, banana leaves are perfect for the three-day priority mail period between the Midwest and California.

BUYING BANANA LEAVES

Virtually all Asian and Latino markets with a freezer section will stock banana leaves that have been folded and frozen into large squares. Though more delicate than fresh leaves, they're easy and convenient to use. If you're lucky enough to have a pesticide-free tree somewhere in your neighborhood, you might offer a trade in sweet or savory treats for an armful of fresh leaves. Berkeley Bowl often stocks fresh leaves, and there are also numerous mail-order sources for fresh leaves, such as Florida-based Greenearth.

USING BANANA LEAVES IN YOUR KITCHEN

Here are just a few simple suggestions for experimenting with banana leaves:

Golden Rice
Cook long-grain rice, substituting 1/4 to 1/2 cup of the water or stock with coconut milk. Add a few slices of ginger, a cinnamon stick and a pinch of turmeric. After the rice is cooked, stir gently and then prepare small packets of the rice. Steam for 20 minutes and then serve with curries or grilled fish.

Tamales
Rick Bayless offers a recipe for banana-leaf wrapped Red Chile Pork Tamales at his Frontera website. We're lucky enough to live in an area where tamale dough is available pre-made in Latino markets. Leftover or take-out chicken mole is a most excellent substitute for slow-cooking your own filling. For variety, sprinkle green olives, bell peppers or corn kernels over the filling before enclosing and cooking.

Fish with Red Curry
Small packets are a fun alternative at summer grill parties, while a hot oven is a perfectly decent rainy-weather option for a dramatic yet simple dinner-party dish. Rub sea bass or salmon with a generous amount of prepared Thai red curry paste thinned with a small amount of oil. I prefer using a whole fish and filling its cavity with scallions and lime wedges, but you can easily use steaks or fillets. Wrap a whole fish completely in three layers of banana leaves, alternating the grain of the banana leaf to crisscross from layer to layer for added stability. Individual portions can be wrapped in one large rectangle on a bed of scallions and lime slices. Tie tightly with wet string and then grill over medium high coals or roast at 400 degrees, allowing 10 minutes base time plus 10 minutes for every inch thickness of the banana leaf packets.

Mushrooms with Tomatoes and Ginger
Thinly slice full-flavored mushrooms and toss them with diced tomatoes (drain well if using canned), chopped scallions, grated ginger, cilantro, salt and black pepper. Wrap in individual packets and bake or grill until completely charred on the outside. Serve as a side dish with steamed rice and grilled chicken or pork.

Sweet Rice with Coconut and Peanuts
Cover about 2 cups of sticky rice with 3 inches of water and let soak for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight. Drain well. In a small bowl, mix together 1 cup each of grated coconut and chopped, roasted peanuts. Stir in a few spoonfuls of brown sugar to taste (omit if using pre-sweetened coconut) and then a healthy sprinkling of salt. At the center of a large square of banana leaf, mound 1/4 cup of sticky rice, layer 1/4 cup of the filling, then finish with 1/4 cup more of sticky rice. Fold the leaf in thirds like a letter, then fold in the two side-flaps to overlap at the center; tie securely with string. Steam for one hour, then let cool completely before serving as mid-morning or afternoon snacks with strong tea.

WORKING WITH BANANA LEAVES

If you're used to Saran wrap or foil, there's a bit of an adjustment to using natural material that's irregularly shaped and varied in texture from package to package, leaf to leaf. But banana leaves are immensely fun to work with, and their flavor is far, far superior to plastic or metal. Like crepes, practice with one or two or three first to get into the groove. Each thin package of banana leaves doesn't look like much, but there's a lot folded up in there. The leaves are inexpensive enough that you can get an extra one for back-up if it's your first time working with them.

• A couple of hours in the fridge or a few minutes submerged in very hot water will thaw out frozen leaves. I usually place the leaves in my empty sink, and then pour boiling water over them to clean and soften them. I keep them in the hot water until just before I need them, wiping a few at a time with a cloth to absorb excess moisture. Always wipe in the direction of the grain to prevent splitting the leaves.

• Soak some toothpicks or kitchen string at the same time. I prefer string for larger parcels of food, since the toothpicks can cause more damage then their convenience is worth. If you forget to soak the string or toothpicks, expect to see them char completely if grilled or roasted. If you're making very small packets, you can use thin strips of the banana leaf itself as ties.

• With a pair of scissors, trim away the hard, center vein of the leaf. Sometimes, I use the hard edges as extra support for larger packages, such as whole fish, but it can cause the leaf to split, so it's best to remove them until you're comfortable working with larger leaves. For appearance sake, you might also want to trim away any yellow streaks.

• To repair and reinforce a split leaf, just place it on top of another leaf with its grain running perpendicular.

• When grilling large items, such as a whole fish, use a cookie sheet and two wide spatulas to transfer the package to the rack, to turn it halfway through the cooking period and to remove it when done cooking.

• For easier and more attractive serving, especially on a buffet table, use shears to snip open the packets.

• Banana leaf packets are perfect for preparing ahead of time and cooking later. They hold up to moist fillings and they're easy to carry to potlucks and parties. Cover with a damp cloth to keep them moist in the fridge. Don't wait more than three days to cook them, though. They're organic material, after all, and will start fermenting if left raw too long. Once cooked, though, they and the food they hold last a surprisingly long time even at room temperature. While we have become spoiled by the apparent safety of refrigerators, much of the world still enjoys prepared snacks wrapped securely and deliciously in banana leaves.

Hors d'oeuvres. Tapas. Appetizers. Small plates. There are many names and countries of origin for those little bites of deliciousness. From canapés and dips to dumplings and kabobs, the small plate is varied and versatile. Although appetizers were once used primarily to sate guests until the main course arrived, they have more recently achieved a higher status in the entertaining world. I have attended everything from cozy gatherings to large weddings where only small plates were served. This is always fine with me, as I love variety and a dinner made up of appetizers offers just that.

In honor of Oscar night Sunday, I wanted to share a couple of my own favorite quick and easy small plate recipes. Although I think I’ve only seen one movie up for the Best Picture award (this is the sad state of movie-going affairs in our house after our two favorite babysitters left for college), I see Sunday as an excuse to curl up on the couch with a couple of my favorite hors d'oeuvres and a glass of wine while my daughters comment on the red carpet fashions.

The first recipe is for a white cannellini bean dip. This is my standard appetizer when we have unexpected guests--I can make it in less than five minutes and always have all the ingredients on hand. It’s similar to hummus in texture, but has more Italian than Middle Eastern seasonings. You can make it with or without hot pepper sauce, so you can customize the spices to your own taste. I like to serve this dish with bruschetta, but crackers, pita chips, or bread sticks would work just as well.

The second recipe was created by mistake. I wanted to try out a new appetizer recipe but forgot to look at it and write down the ingredients before I went to the store. I knew the general idea was stuffed dates, but that was it. After wandering around the store and picking out ingredients for the varied dishes I was making that evening for guests, I went home and saw that other than the dates, my groceries didn't include any of the required ingredients. After a good laugh with my husband about my inability to take a list with me to the grocery story, I immediately got to work to see if I could concoct something with what I had bought. I had some goat cheese on hand for a salad, but decided to use it instead as a stuffing for the dates because I thought the velvety rich texture would counteract the sweet denseness of the fruit. I had also gone to the deli section to buy prosciutto for sandwiches the next day. I had plenty, so decided to use a few slices in the hopes that the salty flavor of the cured ham would accent the other sweet and creamy flavors. After tasting one of my new creations, I realized each flavor was too distinct. In the hopes of melding the tastes of dates, cheese, and cured pork together, I set everything in a 350-degree oven for about five minutes. The result was what my friend Jeff called “pork candy”: goat cheese oozing into the sweet date meat with a crisp salty finish. Just the thing when watching those starlets ham it up on the red carpet.

Cannellini Bean Dip

Ingredients
1 can cannellini beans drained and rinsed
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 - 3/4 teaspoon salt
Dash of pepper
2 Tbsp chopped fresh parsley
2 Tbsp lemon juice
A few dashes of hot sauce
1/4 cup cooked or raw red onion

Preparation
1. Place all the ingredients in a food processor and puree.
2. Taste and add more salt, pepper, lemon juice or hot sauce as desired.
3. Place in a bowl and drizzle the top with olive oil and a sprig of parsley.
4. Serve with bruschetta, crackers, pita chips, or bread sticks.

Note: I am not a big fan of raw onion so I like to sauté the red onion in a drizzle of olive oil for a minute or two before I add it to the rest of the ingredients. If I get an exceptionally sweet onion, I’ll skip the sautéing process.

Serves 4-6 people

Pork Candy (a.k.a. Stuffed Dates with Goat Cheese and Prosciutto)

Ingredients
12 fresh dates
2 ounces goat cheese
6 slices of prosciutto cut in half
Olive oil

Preparation
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Pit dates and remove stems.
3. Spoon enough goat cheese into each date to fill the centers.
4. Wrap dates with between a quarter to a half slice of prosciutto each (depending on the size of the dates).
5. Lay stuffed and wrapped dates on a baking tray.
6. Drizzle with olive oil.
7. Bake for 5 minutes, or until prosciutto crisps up.
8. Serve warm.

Serves 4-6 people

At some point in his motivational speaking career, Dale Carnegie uttered the famous, if misguided words:

"When fate hands you a lemon, make lemonade."

The fault is not so much in the sentiment-- making lemonade out of lemons is, naturally, a rather positive, productive activity. What bothers me is the underlying belief that there is something inherently unpleasant about this citrus fruit. Carnegie was not alone in his thinking. Used car salesmen have given the lemon a bad name over the years, associating them as they do with automobiles that are slick and shiny on the outside, but of dubious dependability under the hood, which is all rather pot vs. kettle when one stops long enough to think about it.

All I know is this-- Carnegie's family certainly didn't hail from a sunny, Mediterranean clime, or he would never have said it. He might instead have related his comment to the Germans or the idea of an eight-hour work day. When fate hands you a German... you can fill in the rest.

Of course, Carnegie was telling his audience that, when fate hands you something unpleasant, make the best of it. When fate hands me that kind of lemon, I would more than likely stare at it for a moment and say something like, "I don't think that lemon is mine," and walk away.

When fate or, more often than not, the supermarket checker hands me an actual lemon, I am more likely to own it. When fate hands me Meyer lemons, I get happy.

I am not about to delve into the history and genetics of the Meyer lemon today. Others have done it well enough that I do not have to. I suggest you let our own Amy Sherman tell you about them. Read her blog post on Meyer lemons.

If you want a few ideas as to what you can do with Meyer lemons, read another Amy's (Scattergood) fun list "100 things to do with a Meyer lemon" from the Los Angeles Times online to get some great ideas. Some are oddly practical, like playing fetch with them in order to freshen canine breath. If you can come up with other uses, please let me know. No one has mentioned the Meyer lemon as an elbow-softener. Perhaps there are few people who still care for supple joints as I do.

And if you really, really want to know everything you could possibly want to know about the lemon, its history, and its uses, by all means go out and buy yourself a copy of Much Depends on Dinner by Margaret Visser. It's quite a fascinating read.

Look, I just like lemons. Perhaps it's my Sicilian heritage and the fact that my ancestors actually earned their bread and marmellata exporting the little yellow fruits. Which leads me to wonder that, had Dale Carnegie been born, say, Dale Carneghi, he might have said, "When fate hands you a lemon, make limoncello." But he wasn't and he didn't, so I am stuck with making lemonade for the purposes of today's post.

It strikes me as a cruel twist of fate that a fruit which makes such a great summer thirst-quencher should reach its peak in the dead of winter, but that isn't going to stop me from making it. One still needs to stave off scurvy, even in the chilly months. What better way to pretend that winter isn't happening than to wear gingham, put some zinc oxide on your nose and pour yourself a tall glass of lemonade? It is denial perfected. After all, I believe it was Mr. Carnegie who also said, "Happiness doesn't depend on any external conditions, it is governed by our mental attitude." I am not going to argue with him about that. With that as my new credo, I shall chose to pretend it isn't raining outside, my complexion isn't pasty, and I haven't gained 10 pounds. Instead, you'll find me inhabiting my inner world, where it's perpetually sunny, and I am always tan and thin. Thanks for the motivation, Dale.

Meyer Lemonade

Meyer lemons are ideal for making lemonade. Lacking confidence in their own identity (half lemon, half mandarin), they share space well with others. Three flavors that blend well (in lemonade) with the fruit are mint, cucumber, and coriander. Yes, coriander. Don't ask me how I know. I have chosen mint today because it is pretty.

Ingredients:

1 cup freshly squeezed Meyer lemon juice-- about 5 to 6 lemons, depending upon size and juiciness. You can actually squeeze them the night before-- the juice won't separate like orange juice does.

1 cup simple syrup. Mint is added to mine here. I'm not telling you how to make simple syrup.

3 to 4 cups cold, clean water.

Mint sprigs and (very) thinly sliced Meyer lemons for garnish.

Ice cubes, if you're into them. I find they keep the garnish from floating to the top.

Preparation:

1. Take all the ingredients and dump them into a big enough pitcher. Stir and serve.

Or, if you want to be very French about it and serve it comme un vrai citron pressé...

1. Place lemon juice and syrup in the antique apothecary beakers you found for next to nothing at the marché aux puces in Dijon last autumn. Place on a tray with chilled, bottled Volvic, one pastis glass and spoon per person, and a pack of Gauloises Blondes. Let your guests prepare their own concoctions, according to personal taste.

Note: If you opt for cucumber lemonade, slice up a cucumber thinly, add to the water and refrigerate for 24 hours. For coriander? I haven't quite figured that one out. I'll let you know when I do.

Serves 4 to 6.

My dad grew up in West Virginia, and is a true lover of good 'ol Southern food. Biscuits and gravy, slow-smoked ribs, fried chicken, creamy potato salad, braised greens, key lime pie, and country ham with red-eye gravy. Now, I've been hearing about country ham for a good long while, but having grown up in Texas, which isn't really the South (but definitely shares many qualities), I had actually never tasted it.

Country hams have a long history in the South. These traditional American hams are salt-cured, usually in a salt brine, which dries them out and preserves them (this is how succulent pig legs were preserved prior to refrigeration). They are then typically smoked, although there are very delicious examples of unsmoked country ham. From what I can tell, the best seem to come from Virginia or North Carollna. In fact, you might have heard of Virginia ham or Smithfield ham, which are both examples of country hams from Virginia. Smithfield hams seem to be the most highly revered, and are aged longer than other country hams. Apparently they are also more deeply flavored and saltier. Each region seems to have their own particular style.

So, this past weekend, for my dad's 70th birthday, we decided to not only fly up to Portland and surprise him, but also give him a true-blue (well, it wasn't really blue) country ham. In fact, we even went one step further, and threw him a birthday party where he, and the ham, were the guests of honor.

But getting the ham did take some planning. First, you need to find a reputable place that sells real, exceptional country hams. I had read an article about Calhoun's Country Hams in Saveur, and so I thought, not really knowing where else to turn, to give them a call. I was greeted on the phone with true down-home Southern hospitality. They answered all my questions, and I figured out what I wanted: a 15-lb (the smallest available) uncooked bone-in country ham, which takes about 7-10 business days to ship. Because the hams are salt-cured, you do not have to refrigerate them, as long as you keep them in a cool place (like my brother's basement, next to his Kegerator) and make sure they stay nice and dry.

We served my dad's ham as part of a huge Southern birthday feast, complete with buttermilk biscuits, hush puppies, scalloped leeks and potatoes, roasted asparagus, and sauteed collard greens with apple cider vinegar. To top it all off, we ended with a tall citrus cake. My dad was in heaven. And frankly, after tasting the ham, so was I.

How to Make Yourself a Real Good Country Ham

Cooking a country ham is easy, but takes some time. The first thing you need to do is to scrub the ham clean with a vegetable scrub brush and some warm water, it's best to do this in the sink. I recommend trying this prior to drinking. Although that did make for some interesting fun. There will likely be bits of mold here and there, but that's normal and nothing to worry about.

Next, find a big container. I find that a cooler works best. You want something large enough to submerge the entire ham. Lie the ham in the container and fully submerge it in cold water. The reason for doing this is to suck some of that salt out. Like I said above, these hams are salt-cured and very salty. And if you aren't used to it, like me, then it's best to soak your ham. Soak the ham for about 24 to 48 hours. Yep, you heard me right. And change the water as often as you can, maybe every 4 to 8 hours or so. There's no sense soaking it in salt water if you are trying to remove some of the salt.

Once your ham is clean and soaked, remove it from the water, and put it in the largest stockpot or deep roasting pan you can find. Again, you want to submerge it. The largest pot we had was actually a canning pot and still the top of the bone stuck out, but that's fine, as long as the bulk of the ham is under water.

Fill the pot with enough water to cover the ham, cover the pot loosely with foil, and set it on the stovetop. Bring the water to a slow rolling boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to maintain the slow boil. Boil the ham for about 3 hours or so. You want it to come to about 140°F at the thickest part of the ham.

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Remove the ham from the pot and set in a large roasting pan or a rimmed baking sheet (you can double this up to make sure it's nice and sturdy). Use a sharp knife to trim as much fat from the ham as possible. There will likely be quite a bit.

In a bowl, stir together about 1/3 cup brown sugar with about 1 tablespoon grainy mustard until it's like a paste. Slather it all over the ham. With your hands. Don't be afraid. Bake the ham for about 15 minutes until the paste glazes the ham and it looks all bubbly and delicious.

Carve the ham using a very sharp knife, cutting the ham into the thinnest slices you can.

Calhoun's Country Hams
219 South East Street
Culpeper, VA 22701
Toll-free 1-877-825-8319

Whole grains. Those are the grains you are supposed to be getting three servings of a day. They are also possibly hiding out in mysterious jars in your pantry. Well, it's time to clean out the cupboard and begin again. Stop passing by the Bob's Red Mill display and grab some packages, because more help than ever is available to get you to use them. Three recent cookbooks combine accessibility with a very low earth mama quotient.

You know the whole grain trend has gone mainstream when Betty Crocker puts out a cookbook on the subject. Betty Crocker Whole Grains: Easy Everyday Recipes is a pretty good one too. There are recipes that use whole grain breakfast cereal and whole grain bread in addition to just the grains themselves. As the name suggests, these recipes have a tendency to lean toward the short and easy, this is not a cookbook for the aspiring gourmet chef. But it's actually a great choice for those times when you aren't feeling overly adventurous. Recipes like S'more Swirl Bread and Take-Along Oatmeal Bars appeal to the junk food junkie in all of us. The Best Ever Oatmeal Brown Bread could well become a staple in your baking repertoire and even if you're not a baker, recipes for quick breads like muffins and scones will con your significant other in thinking you are. All told, there are 140 recipes divided into chapters such as Better Breakfasts, Best Breads, Dinners in 30 Minutes, Slow Cooker Sides and Meals, and Delicious Desserts. A chart with cooking times, suggestions for flavor boosters and a full color photo of 20 different grains are all smart additions.

The Complete Whole Grains Cookbook: 150 Recipes for Healthy Living is a weighty tome. With 150 recipes and in-depth background material that includes nutritional and culinary profiles, general cooking times, and storage information, this book could have been subtitled, "everything you ever wanted to know about whole grains but were afraid to ask." For instance, did you know that whole grains make particularly tasty ingredients for salad? The whole grain salads in this book include such appealing offerings as Kasha and Beet Salad with Celery and Feta, Cranberry Pecan Couscous Salad, and Millet Salad with Lemony Chickpeas and Tomatoes.

The slimmest of the volumes, The New Whole Grains Cookbook: Terrific Recipes Using Farro, Quinoa, Brown Rice, Barley, and Many Others begins with descriptions and nutritional information for 17 different whole grains. Primarily a vegetarian book, there are plenty of company worthy dishes like Whole Wheat Potato Gnocchi with Truffle Oil and Mushrooms, Pecan and Wild Rice Stuffed Squash and Thai Coconut Fried Rice with Basil and Shrimp or Tofu. Over 75 recipes and 28 color photos will tempt you into trying something new and delicious. Don't be fooled by the emphasis on vegetarian entrees. The focus is on flavor too, as much or even more than health. Proving once and for all, whole grains aren't just for hippies.

Next week, the Center for Urban Education and Sustainable Agriculture (CUESA) will be hosting a discussion called "Agriculture in a Warmer World." The discussion will include presentations from two different researchers and will focus on how climate change will impact food supply, food distribution, and food security.

Dr. W. Michael Hanemann is Director of the California Climate Change Center at UC Berkeley, and Dr. David Lobell is a Senior Research Scholar at Stanford's Program on Food Security and the Environment.

We're already seeing changes in our food supply due to global warming. Just this past weekend, an international conference was held in Barcelona to talk about the effects of climate change on the wine industry. And in August, a top UN official warned that climate change could have devastating effects on food production in India.

CUESA's last informational panel was on food safety, and covered topics ranging from genetic engineering, food recalls, and the leafy green industry in California.

"Agriculture in a Warmer World" is part one of a two-part series. The second, to be held in about a month, is called "Climate Friendly Eating" and will focus on how our personal food choices affect the climate.

When: Thursday, February 28
Where: Port Commission Hearing Room, Ferry Building
Time: Reception at 6:30, Program at 7:00 pm