Whether it's a lazy weekend morning, or a busy holiday, there’s nothing nicer than having breakfast with family and friends. On Thanksgiving, I love to start my day by drinking coffee while I chat with my mom and sister as my kids and their cousins run around and play. Often, however, we need to chat and drink our coffee while also preparing for the big feast later in the day. As cooking a Thanksgiving or other holiday dinner is an all-day event, breakfast needs to be easy. So, while I am always tempted to make something elaborate, I rarely do as the morning plays second fiddle to the Turkey main event later that day.

But a recipe doesn't have to be difficult or time consuming to be delicious and look great. Case in point: Challah French toast stuffed with cream cheese and jam and topped with berries. Regular French toast is a universal favorite, but with just a little extra effort, you can make it exceptional. Even better, this breakfast couldn't be easier to make and you can even prepare most of the dish the night before.

I use Challah bread in the recipe as the egg dough makes it light and fluffy, which is perfect for French toast. You can use whatever bread you like, but just make sure it’s not sliced as you want to be able to cut nice thick pieces so you can create pockets for the cream cheese and jam.

The jam can be any flavor you'd like. I'm partial to using raspberry preserves for the filling and then topping the final product with fresh raspberries, but apple butter is a fantastic alternative and would go great with cooked apples on top.

The egg mixture is seasoned with vanilla, maple syrup, and cinnamon, which add sweetness and a great aroma. It also includes orange zest to brighten the flavors and add a little nuance to the raspberries. If you don’t have orange zest, you can just add in a tablespoon of orange juice.

Whether it's Thanksgiving, another holiday, or just a regular old morning, Challah bread French toast with cream cheese and jam is a pretty great way to start the day.

Cream Cheese and Jam Stuffed Challah French Toast with Raspberries

Serves: 6 - 8 people (double if feeding a larger crowd)

Ingredients:
1 loaf Challah bread
4 eggs
2/3 cup whole milk
Zest from one orange
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla
1 Tbsp maple syrup
1/2 cup cream cheese
1/2 cup of raspberry jam
Butter for frying
Warm maple syrup to top the French toast
Fresh raspberries
Powdered sugar

Preparation:
1. Cut bread into 1-inch thick slices.
2. Cut a pocket into the side of each piece and set aside.
3. With a butter knife, spread some cream cheese into the pocket of each slice and then spread some jam on top of the cream cheese. Note: If you tear a little hole in the bread while spreading the cream cheese or jam pinch the bread to seal.
4. In a large baking dish, mix the eggs, milk, orange zest, cinnamon, maple syrup and vanilla.
5. Set each slice of bread into the egg mixture, making sure each side is evenly coated. Turn each slice over so they're covered on both sides and then let sit for at least 5 minutes so the egg starts to soak into the bread. You can also let the mixture sit overnight. Just make sure you flip the bread in the egg so it's covered on both sides and then cover and refrigerate for up to 24 hours.
6. Heat a large griddle or frying pan to medium high.
7. Coat the bottom of the pan with butter (and don’t be stingy). Once it's sizzling, lay your egg-coated Challah inside.
8. Cover the pan and lower the heat to medium or medium low and let the Challah sit for 3-5 minutes or until golden brown on the bottom side.
9. Flip the Challah pieces and cover again until the French toast is browned on both sides.
10. Finish cooking the rest of the egg-dipped Challah (adding more butter between each batch) until finished.
11. Top finished French toast with maple syrup and raspberries.

Summer is a tricky thing in San Francisco. A morning in July here often feels like a morning in February, much to the consternation of shivering tourist. We grab what sun we can two days here, three days there, until the fog rolls in and we're grabbing our sweaters and pashminas instead, shrugging our pasty shoulders all the while. If one never leaves the City, one has but few clues as to what life is like on the hot, sticky Outside. And I like that just fine.

I always know it's summer when I see berries flooding the markets. I grab baskets of them-- strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, snozberries-- and challenge myself to eat them all before they rot in my fridge, which happened last year, much to my shame. I decorate my cereal with them, never quite looking as well-placed as on the cereal boxes I never buy. I pretend I'm putting them in the wood chipper as I drop them into my blender to make smoothies. I sprinkle them over ice cream. I eat them out of hand.

If I want to put a little effort (and I do mean little) into doing something with berries, this year, I'm making berry pudding, one of the easiest and reasonably healthiest desserts around. If I were forced to give this dish human form, I would vote for Betty White. Rose Nyland-sweet, Sue Ann Nivens-tart, and just about as quick and clever as all Miss White's snappy answers on The Match Game. Put a little whipped cream on her and she's good to go. She's always good to go.

This is a recipe that is wonderfully simple in both preparation and outlook. Berries in, berries out. I was going to say it was easy- breezy but, unless eating raw fruits has a certain effect on your G.I. tract, it is merely easy. The only real time involved is the time the berries and bread must spend in the refrigerator, getting to know each other.

Berry Pudding

Many of the recipes I've read for Berry Pudding call for the berries to be cooked with sugar. I strongly object. Not to the sugar, mind you, but to cooking the berries. One might as well be using frozen fruit, and that, my friends, is a capital "C" crime in my book-- at least in high season.

I might suggest letting your berries ripen a bit before making them into pudding. They will thank you for it.

Serves: 4

Ingredients:

1/2 cup strawberries, chopped
1/2 cup blueberries, whole
1/2 cup raspberries, whole
1/2 cup blackberries, whole
2 tablespoons sugar, taste the berries to determine their sweetness before adding sugar. Adjust accordingly.
8 one half-inch slices of white bread, brioche, or other neutral starchy vehicle, cut to the shape of whatever molds one is using.
A splash of complementary booze (blackberry brandy, Cointreau, etc.) Complementary as in "will complement the flavor of the berries", not complimentary, as in "free". Of course, if your alcohol is both complementary and complimentary, I say bravo to you.
A pinch of salt

Preparation:

1. Wash berries well, but gently. Chop strawberries to the approximate size of the other berries. Place all berries into large bowl and sprinkle with sugar, salt, and booze. Let sit for five or so minutes.

2. After the berries have macerated a bit, lightly crush them. I feel I was a bit too excited when it came time to inflict harm upon mine. Stir.

3. Cover the bottoms of your molds with your most attractive bits of berry, since this will be the top of the dessert when it is unmolded. Place one piece of bread on top. Add more berries, a second layer of bread, then more berries.

4. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, pressing gently down upon the filled molds to remove any major air gaps.

5. Refrigerate for at least four hours or overnight.

6. To unmold, gently run the tip of a sharp knife between the outer edge of the filling and the inner edge of the mold. Hopefully, you have been clever enough to have removed the plastic wrap before doing so. Place serving plate over the top of the mold, invert, and gently giggle the pudding free of its form. Repeat with the remaining puddings, if you are serving them all at once.

7. Top with whipped cream, ice cream, or bacon. Whatever makes you happy.

My gardening skills are mediocre, at best. Sometimes my plantings are successful, but more often than not, I get aphids or white flies, the cats pee on the lettuce, or I neglect to water something and rediscover its dried twig skeleton after it's too late to revive. Between taking care of my kids, walking the dog, and, oh yeah, working, tending the garden is an afterthought. This is why I like independent plants. I love growing tomatoes and roses because they can persevere for a few days, even when I forget to water them. I also like old fruit trees that seem happy without any care other than the occasional winter pruning. My new favorite plants, however, are my raspberry vines. They are able to thrive with little tending and I get the payoff of lovely little sweet berries.

My love for growing berries started about ten years ago when my husband and I bought our house and discovered a rambling blackberry patch just beyond the cement of our driveway. Each summer we were given the gift of hoards of dark juicy blackberries. I say gift because we did little to deserve them. We would only minimally cut back the bushes in the winter; just enough to be able to walk past them without getting caught and trapped in a thorny mess. I never tied them up and, I'm embarrassed to say, I didn't even water them. Every July we would then have enough berries to can several jars of homemade jam on top of the numerous berry crisps and pies I would bake. But then a sad thing happened: we remodeled our house and the city forced us to shore up our driveway with a cement curb. This made our backyard look less decrepit, but it covered our lovely prolific blackberry patch.

Now, my backyard is not huge. It's not even medium-sized. By most standards, it's on the smallish side, and much of it is cast in shade by the surrounding detached garages (my own and my neighbors') and some towering wild plum trees by the back fence. The driveway was pretty much the perfect spot to grow berries, but that spot has been overtaken by the aforementioned city-mandated cement block. About two years ago, in a moment of berry desperation, I convinced myself that the opposite corner of the yard, which gets only filtered sun, might grow fruit. It was this turn of events that led me to our local nursery in search of berry vines. As the blackberries sat in a bunch with the raspberry vines, I decided to purchase both varieties. It took only a moment to discover, however, that you can actually get thornless raspberry vines. Although I love blackberries, I adore raspberries just as much and the idea of not getting thwacked in the face and arms by jagged thorns was pretty enticing. The planting directions advised setting plants a couple of feet apart. As I had only a small planting area, I decided to purchase only one thornless raspberry vine to see if it would grow in the new location. After planting it, I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. Little did I know that a couple of years later, I would have a ten-foot spread of healthy vines, laden with ripe raspberries.

Right now, our raspberries are ripening on a protracted schedule, which is just fine with me. Each day we have about ten mature berries. My daughters love going outside, standing in the raspberry patch, and talking about their day while they gobble up the day's ripened crop. Although we don’t have enough raspberries to make jam, we have enough for a snack each afternoon while we hang out and chat. I also have hopes that in a few years, as the vines age, we'll have enough berries to make pies and jam. Raspberries grow on the previous year's canes, so each year you get more "old" vines for the next year's crop. This is why I don't care that the patch is growing beyond its designated area. It's starting to overtake the camellias, but as far as I'm concerned, those camellias only give flowers, and I'll take berries any day instead.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the yard, our blackberry vine has popped up about twelve feet from its previous location in a small open area near our back porch. It's the beast that won't die, and that's just fine by me.

Following are some links to find more information on growing raspberry or blackberry patches. I think they suggest a bit more work than is necessary, but then again, I'm a minimalist when it comes to gardening effort.

• Backyard Gardener
• Beginner Gardening

Note: Thornless blackberries are also available for purchase. They didn't have them at my local nursery when I bought my raspberry vine, but I've seen them since then.

Summer is a great time for cold fizzy refreshments. And drinks made with champagne, prosecco, or sparkling wine always seem the most elegant. Sangria Blanca -- a Spanish sparkling wine drink infused with fruit -- is just this type of libation (I love that word). And, with berries and mint, it's really the perfect tonic for a hot summer day.

Although I adore Sangria Blanca now, it took a while for this love to bloom. For years I resisted sparkling sangrias. When offered one, I turned up my nose, thinking it was a cousin of the lowly wine cooler. This isn't to say I never liked wine coolers. In high school, I drank my fair share (but don’t tell my mom). They were sweeter and more drinkable than the Bud Light and Lucky Lager served at Friday night parties in my small San Diego County town and always seemed to be on hand. My girlfriends and I would down our California Coolers (does anyone else remember those?), feeling quite urbane. Later, when I was a little older and "wiser," I learned to disdain coolers in much the same way a six-year old feels too mature to watch Sesame Street any longer. It was only when I was in my 30s that I returned to sparkling wine concoctions. By this time, I was secure enough to admit I really loved their refreshing and slightly fruity taste and so started experimenting.

Following is the result of one of these experiments: my recipe for Sangria Blanca. I use cava, a Northern Spanish sparkling wine, although any type of bubbly will do. The great thing about this recipe is that you don't need to break the bank. Although a nice champagne wouldn't hurt the outcome, it seems an extravagant addition for a drink that includes fruity soda, thereby drowning out any nuances you would gain. A moderately-priced cava is my bottle of choice, although you could also use sparkling wine or prosecco. Just don't use anything you wouldn't drink plain. Served with some ripe berries, a sprig of mint, and ice, it's the perfect way to cool off on a hot summer day in Spain, San Diego, or the Bay Area.

For a discussion on red wine sangria, see Sangria, the Ultimate Summer Refresher.

Sangria Blanca

Serves: 6-8

Ingredients:
1 bottle chilled cava or other sparkling wine
1 cup fruity soda, Passion Fruit and Mango Juice Squeeze or Orangina
2 Tbsp brandy
2 Tbsp sugar
½ cup raspberries
½ cup sliced strawberries
Mint leaves
Ice

Preparation:
1. Clean berries and slice the strawberries. Set aside.
2. In a large punch bowl or pitcher, combine the sugar and brandy until the sugar dissolves.
3. Add the cava, or other sparkling wine, along with the soda.
4. Add the berries and ice.
5. Serve with mint leaves as garnish.

I've never understood how a fruit as delightful and sweet as a raspberry could have inspired the term "blowing a raspberry." How could such a sweet and luscious plump red berry get such bad rap? Out of curiosity, I looked up the term. From what I can tell, it all started sometime in the late 1800s when some witty Brits thought the sound they produced when making derisive spitting noises sounded like flatulence. As "raspberry tart" rhymes with "fart" (a word that never ceases to incite giggles with my daughters and I'm sure was hilariously funny back then as well) the term was born. Makes no sense to me, but apparently it's part of a British rhyming tradition. As my family is originally from New York City, I'm more able to understand the reasons behind why someone would blow a raspberry (or give a Bronx cheer) than the etymology behind it.

So what does this all have to do with shortcake and berries? Well, not much other than I adore raspberries and have been contemplating how wonderful they are, particularly now, when they're in season and reasonably affordable. My mind also has a tendency to wander into etymological corners -- a trait I once assumed was charming, but now fear makes people nod off -- and this is where it led me as I stared at a beautiful mountain of raspberries in Whole Foods the other day.

Now that raspberries are in season, I want to gorge myself on them, sucking up their potent antioxidants and sweet juiciness. Earlier this year, I stopped buying raspberries (and all berries) when they're out of season because they're usually grown in Mexico, often with the help of strong pesticides that end up killing off song bird populations. Out of a sense of environmental responsibility and guilt, my family and I have gone a long hard winter without berries and we are ripe (excuse the pun) for indulging ourselves.

To celebrate raspberry season, I decided to indulge in a dessert where the raspberries are fresh and uncooked. I wanted to pay tribute to their sweet unadulterated plumpness, and so paired them with a slightly-sweet (but not too sweet) shortcake with whipped cream. As I love the flavor of almonds with raspberries, I added some nuts to the shortcake. The result was everything I had hoped for: a fresh burst of raspberry flavor atop buttery shortcakes, finished off with pillowy whipped cream and a hint of almond crunchiness. It was really the antithesis of a Bronx cheer.

Raspberry Almond Shortcake

Serves: 6

Ingredients for shortcakes:
2 ½ cups flour
½ cup sugar
1 Tbsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
¼ cup chopped toasted almonds
6 Tbsp cold butter
1 cup whole milk
½ tsp almond extract

Ingredients for topping:
4 cups raspberries
½ cup sugar
½ tsp lemon juice
2 cups whipping cream
½ cup powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
Toasted almond slivers for garnish

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Add flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and almonds in a large bowl. Whisk to mix thoroughly.

3. Cut in the butter (you can either do this by hand with a pastry cutter or with your fingers. If you have a food processor, just pulse about ten times).

4. Add the almond extract to the milk and then add to the flour mixture.

5. Gently incorporate the milk into the flour. Be sure not to over mix as doing so will make the flour rubbery. If the mixture remains too wet to properly handle, add a little more flour until you can pat the dough firmly into a round disk.

6. Cut with a biscuit cutter (if you don't have one, you can use a jar or ramekin) and place onto a baking dish or large cast iron pan.

7. Bake at 400 degrees for 15 – 20 minutes, or until golden brown.

8. Mix berries, sugar and lemon juice in a bowl and set aside for at least 10 minutes.

9. Beat cream with powdered sugar and vanilla until whipped (but not too long or you'll have butter).

10. When ready to serve, slice each shortcake in half. Top the bottom with a healthy dollop of whipped cream and then cover with berries. Top with more whipped cream and lay the top of the shortcake against the berries. Serve.

Lemon Buttermilk shortcake alternative:
1. Substitute buttermilk for the milk.
2. Remove the almonds and almond extract.
3. Add 1 Tbsp lemon zest.

Strawberry shortcake alternative:
1. Use strawberries instead of raspberries.
2. Use the buttermilk shortcake alternative for the pastry.