Lucky me, the flu came visiting last week. Even after three days of sleeping in bed and swallowing nothing more than bananas and Advil, I could tell my uninvited guest had no intention of leaving. Time to get serious.

Cooking was out of the question -- I could barely stand up straight with the long, invisible spikes piercing both sides of my brain -- so I smiled as sweetly as possible at my husband and said three words: Pho ga. Please.

He'd never made the soup before nor did he have a mother who cooked it once a week, so I scribbled down some notes on a scrap of paper. I fell back asleep before he left for the grocery store, and by the time I woke up again, blessed me, I could smell the lovely scent of star anise and cinnamon and ginger all the way into the bedroom.

Now, lest you think that I'm married to a kitchen wizard, let me just say that during the five years he lived alone, the only meat he ever bought was bacon and he never, ever, not once, turned on his oven. Fortunately, the best foods for the soul are always the simplest.

Pho ga is an excellent way to prepare meals ahead of time. My mom used to simmer the chicken on Sunday, boil a big batch of noodles, wash all the herbs, and then refrigerate the components separately. It only takes about 10 minutes to reheat the stock and noodles for a comforting bowl of soup anytime during the week.

Eating my way through my husband's very first pot of pho ga brought me back to the land of the living. Here, verbatim, is the recipe:

Half-Conscious Notes on Making Pho Ga

Preparation
1. Cut chicken in half & pull off fatty chunks @ tail

2. Cover with cold water. Add onion (halved), some carrot logs, lots of star anise (8-10) a few cloves, teaspoon of peppercorns, and cinnamon stick. And Bay Leaf for the French. Add giblets, etc. & fennel seeds.

3. Bring just [double underlined] to a boil, then lower heat, cover partially & simmer gently 1 1/2 hour.

4. Remove chicken. remove big chunks of meat & return carcass. continue simmer 2-3 hrs.

Shopping List and Additional Notes

Ingredients
One 4-5 pound chicken
1 package wide rice noodles
A small hand of ginger
1 large onion
1 small carrot
Spices: star anise, cinnamon stick (preferably Vietnamese cassia), peppercorns, cloves, fennel seed
Fish sauce
Fried shallots

Fresh herbs: scallions, cilantro, Thai basil, saw-leaf herb, Bay leaf (optional)
Mung bean sprouts
Lime wedges
Fresh Thai chiles

This is the dream list for a homemade bowl of pho ga. Decent shortcuts include using good-quality, prepared stock and the meat of a rotisserie chicken. If you keep a box of premixed spice packets in your pantry (they look like big teabags), you can infuse plain chicken stock with Vietnamese flavors in 20 minutes. I've been known to enjoy a bowl of pho with only scallions for garnish, but each additional herb really does make a huge difference.

When buying rice noodles for this soup, look for the words banh pho ga on the label. If you're lucky enough to find fresh ones, you'll just need to immerse them for 10 or 15 seconds in very hot water. Dried noodles require 2 to 3 minutes of boiling.

I have a wide, extremely sharp cleaver that eases right through chicken bones. Halving chickens is also super simple if you have good kitchen shears. If you don't have a pair...get some. One of the must useful tools ever. Look for the heavy-duty ones with a round indentation at the base of the blades; that's what allows you to snip through the ribs and along the backbone. For those who think this all too much, just go ahead and buy chicken parts (bone-in!), but be sure to simmer the meat for only 30 or 40 minutes before stripping it off the bones. Having exposed bone marrow extracts more flavor. Besides, anyone who's tried to remove a whole chicken from a pot of simmering water can vouch for the wisdom of chicken halves or parts.

If you can, throw in a few extra chicken wings or, best of all, a couple of feet.

My family never bothered to strain the soup. All the aromatics and bones sink to the bottom of the pot, and we'd just ladle the soup from the top. If you prefer, though, you can strain the stock and reheat.

Vinegared onions are a favorite topping that's rarely available in restaurants. To make your own:
1. Slice an onion very thinly.
2. Drizzle generously with white vinegar.
3. Stir in lots of coarsely ground black pepper.
4. Let stand for 10 minutes and then serve alongside the herb platter.

Arrange sprigs of the fresh herbs, lime wedges, bean sprouts and chiles on large platters for finishing the soup at the table. Set a big bottle of fish sauce right on the table, too, because this is a Vietnamese meal, after all.

I like to pour boiling water (from cooking the noodles) over the bean sprouts to blanch them so they aren't hard and cold in the soup. (Shhhh, don't tell my Saigon-born mom. That's a Northern trick that I adopted after leaving home.)

For each diner, place a small nest of noodles in a large, preheated bowl. Cover with very hot stock and add a handful of shredded chicken. Sprinkle with chopped scallions, chopped cilantro and fried shallots. Let guests fine-tune their bowls with herbs and other flavorings as desired.

Typically, when I heard the phrase "Cordon Bleu", I used to think in purely French terms. Mustachioed men in perfect white chef coats tasting expensive-looking dishes with silver spoons pulled from little pockets in their sleeves. Or I'd think of the literal translation, which is, of course, "blue ribbon", which I might mentally attach to one of the chef's coats. Since I moved near Polk Gulch four years ago, the little Frenchmen in my head have been replaced by thoughts of five spice chicken. And I couldn't be happier about that.

The restaurant isn't much to look at. In fact, there are those who are downright turned off by its distinct lack of physical charm, décor and, well, apparent hygiene. As far as I'm concerned, the unadventurous can keep their distance. It's not as though Cordon Bleu needs their business-- there's a line out the door every evening.

Why the line? Well, Cordon Bleu is tiny-- nine stools bolted around a formica counter, three small tables in the back, and next to no room in between. The real reason for the crowds, however, is the chicken, which they tout as... just read the sign:

I've never been to Vietnam, so I wouldn't know. Considering the fact that the jungle fowl-- the ancient proto-chicken from which all others derive-- originated in Southeast Asia, the Vietnamese have been able to take their time perfecting chicken recipes. The one at Cordon Bleu is pretty damned good, but the best? I'll take their boast with a grain of salt. And a pinch of five spice.

Chinese Five Spice, if you didn't know, is a combination of ground cinnamon (cassia), star anise, cloves, Sichuan pepper, and fennel. When rubbed on chicken, it gives Cordon Bleu the means to pay its rent.

When I visit the place, it's usually before or after seeing a film at the Lumière Theatre, depending upon the subject matter. I'd much rather fill myself here than with movie theatre fare. And possibly for less money than a coke, some popcorn and a candy bar.

The food is-- I hesitate to use the word cheap-- inexpensive. I can stuff myself silly for $8.25 with the "Number Five", which I think is the most expensive thing on the menu.

The Number 5 consists of one piece of "five spiced roast chicken" which, apart from roasting, spent a good deal of time on the grill, one pork and glass noodle fried Imperial roll, one "shish kebab" (which is neither shish nor kebab. It's very thin slices of marinated steak. The only common ground it shares with kebab is that it is meat that spents a good amount of time over a hot grill), country salad (shredded cabbage), and "meat sauce on rice".

Meat sauce on rice. Ground pork, peppers, onions, tomato. It's piled high on nearly every plate. I'm fond of its no nonsense name. And its flavor. It's no surprise to me why SF Weekly dubbed Cordon Bleu the Best Dive Restaurant of 2006. It's good food. And damned cheap.

The next time you're in the neighborhood, whether it be to see an art film, catch a drag show, or pick up a hustler, stop by Cordon Bleu. That is, if you can get in.

Cordon Bleu Vietnamses Restaurant

1574 California Street (at Polk Street)
San Francisco, CA 94109-4708

Phone: (415) 673-5637

Hours: Tuesday- Saturday 11:30 am- 2:30 pm, 5-10 pm.
Sunday 4-10 pm

Cash Only. No alcohol is served, so bring your own beer. Hell, bring some for the women behind the counter. The last time I was there they said they could sure use one.

I love Valentine’s Day. In addition to it being the day my normally unsentimental husband proposed to me, I see Valentine’s Day as a “free” day for eating chocolate. From morning to late in the evening, all chocolate is fair game.

To celebrate Valentine’s Day this year, I thought it would be fun to make three different kinds of chocolate fondue. Although I’ve trained my kids to love semi-sweet chocolate, we plan on eating the fondue after dinner tonight, which is about an hour and a half before bedtime for my kids. I’m concerned the semi-sweet chocolate will have enough caffeine to wire them just enough to keep them up, so am opting to make a nice white chocolate fondue as well as a creamy milk chocolate one. I also think it will be delicious to have a varied palette of chocolate to choose from.

I must admit that until yesterday, I had never made chocolate fondue. After making a batch last night, however, I am a convert. In addition to it being a remarkably luscious dessert, it is also probably easier than almost any other dessert I’ve ever made.

Before I get into how to make the actual fondue, however, we need to talk about chocolate. When I decided to make fondue, I had a lot of questions. What sort of chocolate should I choose? How much should I use? Should I make it with heavy whipping cream or sweetened and condensed milk? The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to buy the chocolate at Bittersweet, the lovely little chocolate café in the Rockridge district of Oakland, not far from my house. So, with a list of questions in tow, I headed over to Bittersweet.

Bittersweet is a fantastic little café and chocolate shop. In addition to carrying a wide array of fair trade chocolates, they also have a bar where you can order a variety of chocolate drinks: from a classic creamy cocoa or a hot and spicy chocolate, to a white chocolate drink infused with cardamom and spices (which I had and loved).

Becky Vandragt was nice enough to show me around. She listened to my chocolate needs (making fondue for adults and kids) and helped me pick out the best chocolates for my requirements. She started by showing me the white chocolates, of which there were only two. She thought the El Rey Icoa from Venezuela was the best choice. It turns out that most chocolatiers deodorize their cocoa butter so they can sell it to other manufacturers (who make things like lip balm and lotion). The deodorizing process takes out all of those wonderful and natural cocoa smells. El Rey, however, doesn’t sell their cocoa butter. They use it all in-house. This means that their white chocolate retains the natural perfume of the cocoa beans, which gives the white chocolate a more nuanced flavor.

Becky then showed me the milk chocolates. She felt that the E. Guittard and the Michel Cluizel Mangaro Lait were both great choices. I ended up buying the Michel Cluizel simply because it came in a 7 oz. package, while the E. Guittard was 3 oz. package. We then moved over to the other end of the wall of chocolate to find a nice semi-sweet. I told Becky that I planned on flavoring this one fondue with either amaretto or Grand Marnier. I was surprised when she said that I should figure out which one I wanted to use before I settled on a chocolate. I didn’t think it would matter much, but Becky explained that many chocolates have undercurrents of citrus or vanilla and that I should take that into consideration when buying my chocolate. I settled on using Grand Marnier. She then chose a Grenada Organic Dark Chocolate 71%.

After settling on my chocolates, Marienne Warehine, the store manager, gave me a quick rundown on how to make fondue. She felt that heavy cream was the best liquid, as sweetened and condensed milk could make the fondue too sweet and could detract from the complexity of the chocolate. She also felt that you should use a one-to-one ratio when using dark or milk chocolate, but that you should use a two-to-one ratio when using white chocolate. According to Marienne, white chocolate needs more cream to become smooth. Her other bit of very helpful advice was to add any liqueur (to white, milk, or dark chocolate) after everything has melted and fused together because adding it too soon could make the chocolate seize up. I wasn’t quite sure what seized chocolate would look or taste like, but it seemed like something I should definitely avoid.

Last night, I put some of this great advice to the test and made the semi-sweet fondue. We didn’t have any sterno gel for our fondue pot, so I ended up putting the fondue in a glass bowl set in another glass bowl that contained warm water. The fondue stayed silky for about 10 minutes and adhered nicely to the fruit and pound cake I had made earlier that day. I used a one-to-one ratio of heavy cream and the Grenada Organic Dark Chocolate. I then added the Grand Marnier.

White we were admiring how nicely the chocolate tasted with fruit and pound cake, I noted that this was really one of the easiest desserts I had ever made. It literally took me less than five minutes to throw everything together, which included cutting up the bananas and peeling the tangerines. I can’t wait to do it all again tonight.

Recipe for Semi-Sweet Chocolate Fondue with Grand Marnier

Ingredients
7 ounces heavy whipping cream
7 ounces semi-sweet chocolate
2 teaspoons Grand Marnier or other liqueur

Preparation
1. Chop chocolate into small pieces.
2. Heat whipping cream on medium heat until it starts to simmer.
3. Turn off heat and add chocolate.
4. Stir until chocolate is melted.
5. Add to fondue pot or heated bowl and stir in liqueur.
6. Serve with slices of fruit, pound cake, angel food cake, or macaroons.

Note from 2/15/2008 -- I made some white chocolate fondue last night, using a 2-to-1 cream-to-chocolate ratio. The result was a bit drippy and runny. Next time I will use a one-to-one ration (as I did with the semi-sweet and milk chocolate fondues) and then add more heated cream by the teaspoon as necessary to create the right consistency.

I get the feeling that parts of Australia are a bit like the Bay Area--an abundance of top quality produce and cuisine influenced by Europe and Asian settlers. There is also a lack of orthodoxy, a flexibility and willingness to experiment when it comes to food. All of this can be found in the cookbooks written by Kylie Kwong. Kylie Kwong is a television personality, celebrity chef and restaurateur in Australia of Chinese descent. While I've never seen any of her television shows, or dined in her restaurants, I am a big fan of her recipes and her style.

The first book of hers I became acquainted with was Simple Chinese Cooking. Like all of her books the photography is excellent, the recipes straightforward and the writing clear. But what really impressed me was her choice of recipes. There were some very traditional ones like Hot and Sour Soup and Dry Fried Sichuan Beef, but there were also salads! Not just Chinese Chicken Salad, but Eggplant Salad, Soy-Dipped Radish Salad, and Tofu and Celery Salad. This is simple stuff that could be done on a weeknight but is exciting and filled with vibrant flavors. And she isn't afraid to tweak the classics either, like adding a salad layer of iceberg lettuce to a "mapo" style dish of ground pork and tofu.

My favorite Kylie Kwong book of all might be Heart and Soul. Knowing the title probably tells you everything you need to know. These are the recipes the author loves the most. When you are passionate about something, anything, it shows. The book features gorgeous photos and great recipes but this time they are not just Chinese recipes, although they sometimes have a Chinese sensibility like the Roast Cinnamon Chicken with Lemon and Cider Vinegar Dressing. A more French style of roasting a bird is employed with pepperberry butter smeared under the skin but the tangy lemon and vinegar adds piquancy to the dish that feels somehow Chinese. There is also Braised Moroccan Style Baby Lamb Shanks, Italian Mushroom Ragout and some recipes using decidedly Australian ingredients like Fresh Mud Crab Salad and Crispy Skin Duck with Blood Plum Sauce.

The third Kylie Kwong book in my collection is called Kylie Kwong: Recipes and Stories. While it's actually the first book in publishing order, it's the third book I read and it's the most personal of the lot. It's all about Kylie Kwong's extended family and their recipes, so many of the recipes come with a story or two. It reads a bit like a memoir and having already been intrigued by her other books and recipes, I wanted to savor every page. It's particularly fun to see how each of her siblings approach a similar recipe like chicken wings. I also enjoyed seeing her mothers recipes, because we are all influenced by our parents cooking in one way or another, right? The recipes for Chris's Spicy Dry Fried Green Beans, Mum's Bread and Butter Pudding and Goong Goong's Homemade Pickles are favorites of mine from this book. With her easy style, enthusiasm for great ingredients and focus on basic techniques you are bound to find your own favorite recipes in each of her books.

Wanna know how cold it was. Too frigid for apples. One farmer stood in the cold; when a hearty customer arrived, she would bang on the truck door. Her partner, with the better end of the deal, would pass along a bag from the stash. Cold.
- "Vital Information", regarding an Ann Arbor, MI farmers market in January.

I am constantly humbled by how fortunate we are to live in the Bay Area foodshed. Here it is the middle of winter, and we have many farmers markets to choose from and can still come home from the market with our bags laden with fruits and vegetables.

"Please find me just one avocado," I have been begging Will Brokaw every time I see him. "Sorry, not for a few weeks," he tells me sadly. I have been craving avocados and the winter hiatus in the avocado season seems longer than ever this year. But two weeks ago, after eating a sub-par, underripe ("watery fat" a friend of mine called them at this stage) avocado, I thanked Will for holding out and not putting out avocados before they're ready. It will be a while longer for Will's avocados, but he is offering us a new crop of delicious kumquats in the meantime.

Steve from Rancho Gordo had a new offering for us this week: dried Chiles de Arbol. I'm looking forward to making something fun with these super spicy delights. While a few are being reserved for a pickled lime recipe that I'm in the process of making, I think I'll try out this recipe from Orangette for the bulk of them.

Have I mentioned Tory Farms? I first learned of Tory during a June Taylor conserve class, when she mentioned the farm's stone fruit several times. Tory joined the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market within the past couple of years, and I have been a fan since day one. Their stone fruit is very good in the summer, but right now they are bringing spectacular citrus fruit to the market. Namely, Paige Mandarins and Oro Blanco grapefruits. They are located in the back, right under the Ghandi statue.

Achadinha Cheese Company is a weekly stop for me. Farmer and cheesemaker Donna Pacheco brings goat cheeses to the market from Petaluma. I've been buying the feta cheese lately -- it's cured in a sea salt brine and a great addition to my weekly salads and pastas. A hint: if you can think of it, bring a jar for the feta cheese. Donna is happy to give it to you in a ziploc, but I find that my cheese arrives home more safely when it's in a jar.

Overall, it's a great time to get to the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market. The CUESA newsletter says that we can look forward to spring vegetables this month including asparagus, spring garlic and cippolini onions.

With a decidedly new take on the happy meal, the folks over at GOOD have filled their upcoming March/April issue with stories and photos about food along with their usual provocative round-up of art, politics and culture from around the world. Excellent visual design and a refreshingly straight-forward take on sustainability distinguish their pages. My friend Stewf introduced me to GOOD last year, on a camping trip no less, and since then I've been a loyal reader.

Be forewarned: this is not meant for the patchouli posse nor the bake-your-own-bread-after-grinding-your-own-wheat camp. Expect to see glints of flashy ads here and there. That said, my favorite sections include Statement, where the editors give an artist free rein with several pages at the beginning to set the theme and tone of the magazine. As a bit of an information wonk, I love Transparency for its always creative graphical exploration of intriguing, important data.

This food issue has a somewhat predictable feature on organic, free-range meat that will not be news to most who read this blog. Other pieces, though, offer interesting takes on what people are eating now in the U.S. Adam Leith Gollner's predictions for "the next sushi" includes bibimbap and dosa. Photographer Vanessa Stump's in-your-face layouts of everyday meals highlight the healthiest school lunch the magazine could find (Pasadena High School), military rations with squeezable apple jelly and a $250 pizza (wine not included).

With a bent toward revealing the power structure behind our consumer world, GOOD often highlights writers, photographers and graphic designers who can find new patterns in old realties. In this issue, Phil Howard shows which multinationals actually own your favorite organic snack. The magazine is based in New York, but the editors do manage to look west for stories on public housing in Chicago and an urban deer hunter in Los Angeles. There's definitely an emphasis on stories from big cities, though.

One section's title says it all: Provocations. Should we harvest the organs of death-row inmates? Should anthropologists be more involved in current military psyops? Do kids really need to learn handwriting with graphite and ink anymore? Read opinion pieces that are not afraid to take highly unpopular stands.

Finally, Good Project, the page that closes the magazine, invites readers to contribute their own ideas and creativity. The food issue ends with a call to send in photos and recipes for the best possible lunch that you could carry to work or school. It has to fit into a brown paper bag. And extra credit if you make all the food yourself.

When I was a kid, my mom would make these fabulous and enormous dinners when family and friends came to our house. She’d work for two days making heaping piles of meatballs, stuffed artichokes, baked ziti, eggplant Parmesan, and a host of other delicious Italian dishes. I loved all these dishes (and still do) but came to really appreciate the easy simplicity of her baked chicken and Italian sausage dish once I started hosting my own parties.

Roasted chicken and sausage is really the perfect meal for a crowd (although it’s also pretty darn good for a family dinner). First of all, it’s incredibly easy to make and you can finish most of the dish before your guests come over. Then, as the dish cooks, you get the extra benefit of having your home infused with the lovely aroma of roasted meat that will prime your guests for their upcoming meal. Another bonus is that it’s an economical meal to serve to a large group.

Easy and affordable are great, but in the end, it’s really about taste. The biggest reason I make this dish is because I love chicken and sausage, and in this dish, the comforting appeal of roasted chicken is intermingled with the savory deliciousness of baked sausage to form a beautiful marriage of flavor. I often use Molinari sweet Italian sausage from Piedmont Grocery. I really like the flavor of this sausage, as well as the fact that Molinari and Sons is a San Francisco company that has been selling sausages locally since 1896.

For the chicken, I use a nice organic Petaluma Poultry Rosie, also from Piedmont Grocery. It warms my heart to think of all those little chickens running around outdoors, gobbling up organic corn and soybeans before they meet that great chicken in the sky. As a mother, I appreciate the fact that there aren't hormones in it, and, as someone who tries to buy locally, I love that it's sustainably farmed nearby.

I ask my butcher to cut my Rosies (I usually make two for a dinner party) into eight pieces each (legs, thighs, and quartered breasts). When I get home, I split these into two baking dishes. I then halve my sausages so they are smaller. Most people will eat one half sausage with a piece of chicken, so it’s easier to cut them up before you cook them. Cutting the sausages also helps those lovely pork juices spill into and fuse with the chicken drippings. I then divide the sausages into the two baking dishes and cover everything with a healthy portion of extra virgin olive oil. I toss on some sea salt and freshly cracked pepper to season the meat, and then throw on some fresh rosemary. I round the seasonings out by grating off the zest of a lemon with my zester/grater. Now comes the fun part -– I mix it all up with my hands, making sure that the olive oil and seasoning are massaged under the chicken skin and onto the actual meat. My kids often want to do this, but I’m too paranoid to let them touch raw meat. Sorry, girls. Maybe when you're sixteen.

After the meats, olive oils, and seasonings commingle for at least an hour in the refrigerator (and up to a day), I'm ready to cook. While preheating the oven, I thickly slice some russet potatoes and slip them under the chicken and sausages. I’ve found that by tucking these under the meat, they capture the pan juices, which seasons the potatoes. Also, as the potatoes sit at the bottom of the pan, the bottoms crisp during baking. I then add wedges of yellow onions, which help to flavor the meat and also caramelize in the oven. Finally, after the dish is about half finished, I add a few red and yellow peppers, their sweet fresh flavor nicely accenting the roasted meat.

I’ve served this dish probably over 50 times. It’s perfect for family meals, as most kids love chicken and sausage, but you can also lay everything out nicely on a pretty platter for grown up dinners. Served with a nice bottle of wine, some crunchy Italian bread, and a pretty salad, it's the perfect dish for company. Now I know why my mom made it all the time.

Baked Chicken and Italian Sausage

Ingredients
2 Rosie chickens cut up
8 Mild Italian Molinari sausages
3 Medium yellow onions
6 Large russet potatoes
2 Tbsp rosemary leaves
2/3 Cup extra virgin olive oil (This measurement can vary. You want to use enough oil to thoroughly coat the meat without making it super oily. Use your best judgment.)
The zest from one large lemon
3 Large red or yellow peppers
1 Tsp Salt and Pepper each

Preparation

1. Divide chickens and sausages into two baking pans and top with the rosemary, salt, pepper and lemon zest, along with enough olive oil to thoroughly coat the meat (Divide everything between the two pans).
2. Mix seasonings into the meat with your hands, being sure to get the seasoned oil under the chicken skin and onto the meat.
3. Let marinate for at least an hour and up to a day in the refrigerator (if you don’t have time, you can bake it immediately, but the chicken will have more of a lemony-rosemary taste if it marinates first).
4. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
5. Peal potatoes and cut them into ¼-inch thick slices
6. Slide potato slices under the chicken and sausage pieces.
7. Chop onions into wedges and add them to the mix.
8. Drizzle more olive oil on top.
9. Cover pans with aluminum foil and bake for a half hour.
10. After a half hour has passed, uncover the pans and cook for another 15 minutes.
11. Remove the pans from the oven to add the red and yellow peppers. Turn the sausages over so the undersides get a chance to brown.
12. Bake for another 5-15 minutes or until the chicken and sausage are browned and reach 170 degrees.
13. Place bread in the oven for about five minutes to heat it.
14. Serve on a platter with the bread.

The title says it all. There is a world of joy in Jell-O-making.

I picked up this treasure written in 1963 at a garage sale years ago. I had always meant to prepare the recipes from it but, invariably, I'd just dust it off every once in a while to giggle over the saturated color photos.

Flights of 1960's culinary fancy fill the pages. Dishes such as Hawaiian Eyeful, Fruited Perfection, and Under-the-Sea Salad Keep me reading. Fantasies, Medleys and no fewer than five Surprises populate the book. The most surprising being the fact that someone discovered what pleasure combining stewed tomatoes, vinegar and strawberry Jell-o can produce.

I was fascinated by Jell-O's versatility-- a Twentieth Century aspic--especially, according to the company, how well it goes with seafood. The Sea Dream, in which a cucumber and vinegar-spiked lime Jell-O serves as the perfect pedestal for bay shrimp, was intriguing, as was the playfully named Ring-Around-the-Tuna (a "beautiful jewel-like entree salad for your luncheon or buffet table"). Luncheon. I wish more people said that word.

At some point during my latest perusal of this book, I realized that no one I know seems to make Jell-O anymore. Except my friend Karen. Granted, it still seems to be a mainstay of the Mid-western Junior League and the state of Utah, but the product isn't a part of my life as it was when I was a kid. And before you ask, I have never ever wrestled in a pool of it, no matter what anyone tells you.

In my household, there was never any ceremony to its preparation. No sophisticated layering, the special molds collected dust behind my giant playchest of Hot Wheels. One just added the boiling water, poured it into custard cups and shoved them into the refrigerator. At my grandmother's house, it may have been prepared solely and grudgingly for the purpose of entertaining grandchildren. A woman who made pastas, soups, sauces, and desserts entirely from scratch must have held this product in contempt, judging by the cracks and semi-petrified state which developed from lack of interest and/or consumption at the back of her ice box. I never asked her about it, I'd simply take one and eat it anyway--letting the super-hardened bits melt on my tongue. Texture is important to children.

I've gone a very long time without eating Jell-O. What makes this product so immensely popular outside my circle? Is it the watching of its wiggle? The witnessing of its jiggle? Perhaps there are more people with throat infections out there than I had previously thought.

This week, I decided to find out how much joy this gelatinous product could give me.

I thought I would tackle one of the more savory, aspic-like dishes such as Vegetable Salad (pictured below, right) with cauliflower and pimiento.

It was much more difficult than I thought. Rather than the looking somewhat like one of Hedda Hopper's spring hats, which is what attracted me to the dish in the first place, mine took on a rather sinister appearance. Growing impatient for the thing to gel, I had great difficulty in getting the vegetables to suspend themselves attractively. Lots of air bubbles ensued and the result looked more like cauliflower drowning in an algal bloom. It even tasted of futile panic.

And it turned my fingernails green.

I sat down on my couch, empty Lime Jell-O box in hand, and took a look at the ingredients. Sugar topped the list, followed by gelatin, adipic acid (for tartness), less than 2% natural and artificial flavor, disodium phosphate and sodium citrate (control acidity), fumaric acid (for tartness), Yellow 5, Blue 1, BHA (Preservative).

Adipic acid? I looked it up. Granted, this is food grade adipic acid, but the realization that it's primary, non-food use is in the production of nylon and Polyurethane made me a little uneasy. At least fumaric acid is found naturally in lichen and Iceland moss. BHA? Butylated hydroxyanisole, which the National Institute of Health considers reasonably anticipated to be a human carcinogen. I threw my little disaster away.

And yet, I still wanted Jell-O. I opted for something Jell-O-esque instead. Like real gelatin. I grabbed a box of unflavored gelatin from the store shelf and read the ingredient list: gelatin. That's it. I decided to make my own, with a little suggestive help from a recipe on the side of the box. Why not add real fruit juice for tartness? Why not indeed.

Making your own flavors gives you a lot more freedom to explore an exciting gelatinous world outside your door and inside your refrigerator. It doesn't really take any more time than the other stuff. And it wont give you cancer.

In all, I was more disturbed by Jell-O than over-joyed by it. Don't misunderstand me. I love to be disturbed by food items. I enjoy the idea of Jell-o, and there will always be room for it's cookbooks on my shelves, just not in my refrigerator.

Tart Cherry Gelatin

You can use whatever juice you want in this, provided you avoid pineapple, kiwi, ginger, papaya, fig, or guava juice-- the enzymes in these will not allow the gelatin to set. I just chose a tart cherry juice because that's what my mood dictated.

You may or may not wish to add sugar to the recipe. The sugar level of your juice-of-choice will tell you what you need. Just taste it first.

Ingredients:

1 packet (7 grams) of unflavored gelatin
2 cups tart cherry juice
1/4 cup sugar (or not)

Preparation:

1. In a medium bowl, sprinkle gelatin over 1/2 cup cherry juice, letting stand for one minute.
2. Add 1 1/2 cups of boiling cherry juice, stirring until dissolved. Keep stirring for about five minutes.
3. Pour into vessels of your choice-- a two cup mold, dessert dishes, or wine glasses.
4. Chill for several hours or overnight until firm.
5. Garnish with whatever you feel like. I'm tired of telling you what to do. I chose a slightly sweetened whipped cream and toasted almonds. Judging by the photo, a lot of whipped cream.

Serves two.

After our wild night of haggis, neeps, and tatties, we had a least half a stockpot full of my husbands' famous, delicious, light and fluffy mashed potatoes. The only reason they hadn't been demolished during our Burns Night feast is because we stowed them away on top of the fridge and promptly forgot about them in our whisky-induced haze. Fortunately they were discovered before the night was over, and secured for later use.

But what do you do with all those leftover clouds of deliciousness? I have a knack for making way too much food, so this is often a question I ask myself or pose to those around me. Mostly my husband. Who agrees wholeheartedly that I like to cook for an army. Or at least a family of 10.

Anyway, faced with a giant pot of mash, I starting flipping through cookbooks and searching online, trying to think about what I could make. I mean, who isn't often left with extra mashed potatoes?

Ok, so here are some ideas I came up with:
• tattie scones (which I made from my Scots Cooking Cookbook, and were delicious)
• potato-leek soup (just add chicken broth and sauteed leeks to the mash, and warm through)
• any kind of pie with mashed potato topping: shepherd's or cottage pie, chicken pot pie, roasted root vegetable pie
• potato bread

I adapted this recipe from an old one I found by Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger. It turned out delicious. And it filled our house with that amazing home-baked smell of fresh bread.

Potato Bread

Ingredients
1 1/4 cup whole milk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons sugar
1 cup mashed potatoes, warmed
2 packages active dry yeast
5 cups bread flour

Preparation
1. In a saucepan, combine the milk, butter, salt and sugar. Warm over medium heat just until steaming. Stir in the mashed potatoes, then set aside to cool to room temperature.

2. In a mixing bowl, combine the yeast with 1/3 cup warm water (about 105°F), stir, and set aside until foamy, about 5 minutes. When the potato mixture has cooled, add it to the yeast mixture.

3. Add 4 cups of the bread flour. Using an electric mixer fitted with a dough hook, mix until the dough starts to come together (you can also use a wooden spoon and elbow grease!). Add up to 1 cup more flour, kneading with the dough hook (or your hands), until the dough is smooth, about 5 minutes.

4. Dump the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knead for a minute or two with your hands. Get your hands in that dough! Form the dough into a ball. Grease up the mixing bowl with butter. Place the dough into the buttered bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and set aside in warm place (like inside your oven, but don't turn it on!) to rise about 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

5. Butter two standard loaf pans. Dump the dough out of the bowl onto a lightly floured work surface. Divide it into two equal pieces. Flatten one piece into a thick even square that is as wide as your loaf pan is long. Starting at one end, tightly roll the piece of dough into a tube. Pinch the seam together and place the dough, seam side down, into the loaf pan. Repeat with the other piece of dough. Cover each loaf with plastic wrap, and let them proof (rise) until doubled, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Don't let them over-proof though, or they will collapse in the oven.

6. When the loaves are about 1/2 hour from proofing, preheat oven to 375°F. Bake the loaves for about 25 minutes, or until the bread is golden brown, and sounds hollow when you tap the top of the loaf.

This bread is the ultimate versatile white bread. Great for toast and sandwiches, and it even makes mean French toast. Oh and for those of you trying to figure out what to do with all that leftover haggis (we had not a whisper left), here are some ideas.

Not so long ago it was believed that low-fat diets were the way to go. It seemed if you could just cut out the fat, you could lose weight and be healthy. But nutrition is science and science changes with the times. Fat is no longer vilified. Though for a while, carbohydrates were the enemy.

Today nutritionists tell us there are "good fats" and "bad fats." Bad fats are saturated and trans fats and good fats are omega-3 fatty acids, polyunsaturated or monounsaturated fats. And carbohydrates? It turns out there are good carbs too, such as the complex carbohydrates found in whole grains, as well as in many vegetables, nuts, and seeds.

The very concept of dieting has changed too. There is less emphasis on going on diets and more emphasis on changing our diets, changing what and how we eat. So now might be as good a time as any to throw away those old diet cookbooks and consider something new.

The Betty Crocker Cookbook, Heart Health Edition has over 1400 recipes, cooking tips and hints, and an introductory section on heart health. Like other Betty Crocker cookbooks, the recipes do not use Betty Crocker products. Nothing is off limits and there are recipes for dishes like Scrambled Eggs, Lemon Chicken with Grilled Fennel and Onions and Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce. Not all recipes are heart healthy, but moderation is the name of the game and nothing is off limits. Each recipe has a detailed nutritional breakdown and many have suggestions for how to make substitutions to make the dishes healthier.

I was particularly impressed with the number of recipes using whole grains like quinoa, barley and wheat berries. It's a good all-around basic cookbook with a balanced approach towards nutrition. The book is spiral bound, making it easy to use in the kitchen.

The Weight Watchers All Time Favorites cookbook is also spiral bound and the recipes also have nutritional information. Following the Weight Watchers system, each recipe has "points" assigned to it. There are 200 recipes and they range from Shrimp and Sausage Paella to Warm Chile Spiced Edamame to Pomegranate and Star Anise Poached Grapefruit.

Honestly, I was quite surprised to see how sophisticated many of the recipes are. Missing are any detailed sections on health or cooking tips, and some of the recipes are not exactly gourmet such as Barbecue-sauced Sloppy Joes, also I would have liked more recipes using whole grains, but all in all, the cookbook lives up to it's name. There are plenty of appealing recipes and they are all healthy to boot.