I stopped into a used bookshop; I was in the market for some David Mamet. Not finding it and not remembering any other books on my growing list, I turned to my back up plan: stand in front of the cooking section, my head cocked to the right and read every title on the shelf. This typically proves fruitless and I move to the craft section. This time there was something waiting for me.

I recognized it by the font, the border, the color: blocky, simple, yellow. Chez Panisse - but which one? I was hoping for Fruit. Alice Waters and Chez Panisse - her biography! Hardcover! $6! I gasped, I grabbed, I was victorious. Finding a Chez Panisse book used is rare find, in my experience. It meant someone had cleaned out their books on food - undoubtedly just collecting dust on their shelves, they probably aren't that into cooking anyway, but Alice Waters looks so good and impresses guests. Chances are this person didn't bring just this single book.

There was one by Anthony Bourdain; he writes about food, stars in his own show about food, loves New York, is a little crass and swears. George recently started watching his show, No Reservations. There were two copies of his book, Kitchen Confidential, one was clearly meant for me. There was a paperback copy of Laurel's Kitchen, a staple vegetarian cookbook found most commonly in the North East, the Bay Area, and my book shelf. There was...what? Really? Here? The River Run Cookbook. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, River Run is a Southern style restaurant in Plainfield, VT. The French toast is my favorite, followed by grits with cream. There's usually catfish available for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They hold trivia night on Tuesday and live music on the weekends. I used to live above their kitchen. The unexpected didn't end there, one shelf below I discovered a copy of the Horn of the Moon Cookbook. Another one from the restaurant in Vermont. This one, however, is long gone. It left Montpelier before I even knew it was there. What're it's recipes doing here?

I would like to know who relinquished all these books to the shelves of Mr. K's. Do I know them? There's a bookmark in the back of Alice Waters advertising the Berkshires. Not much to go on. There they were and there I was and it was like bumping into an old friend I hadn't seen in a while. I remember things about life before now. It put me in perspective for myself. There was no need to one-up this old friend with impressive stories, we were what we were and I like what I am. If River Run is the past, I think Chez Panisse is the future.

This week:

- Extra Tangy Sourdough (Sort Of)

- Beet & Goat Cheese Salad

- Pasta with Veggies

- Granola

Often times when I make bread, and all is said and done, the flavor of the bread lacks something. It's a little tricky to say what specifically, but I generally classify it as "depth." There are a variety of ways to deal with this: slather it with butter or Nutella, ignore it, or let it rise slower and longer. This holds true for many fermented things - think beer, wine, or even some cheeses. This Extra Tangy Sourdough begins by mixing part of the flour, part of the water and the starter (called the sponge) then it rises in the fridge overnight. In the morning the rest of the flour and water are added, along with the salt and it rises again for five hours. It's then shaped and rises for another two to three hours before going in the oven. There's no extra yeast added, which forces you to let it rise for a long period of time. George made these loaves, and while they're definitely more tangy they're not quite as sour as he'd like them. We may try messing with the amount of starter used and I think adding a little whole wheat flour couldn't hurt.

Beets. I really like beets. They're naturally sweet, wicked magenta, and edible from the greens to the roots. Roasted or raw, it makes little difference. In my world (and many others), beets in salads are typically accompanied by goat cheese. The tried-and-true salty/sweet (bacon ice cream, chocolate covered pretzels...) is unbeatable. Taking a hint from Martha this time, I added green beans. Not just any green beans, no no, haricots vert. They're French, they're thin, long, tender, and crisp. More importantly, I actually found some. (I was pretty sure I was destined to substitute greasy beans.) Oh, they're amazing. Their flavor is lighter and more delicate, maybe a bean/cucumber hybrid. Now, I'll be honest, this salad isn't fully assembled. There's a sauce Martha recommends and it involves...mustard. I'm not a mustard fan. I'm working on a substitute. Boy, when I'm done, it's going to be one bitchin' salad though.

After these two dishes things got simpler. The big dish this week is a little unsophisticated. Pasta. Vegetables. Toss. Add cheese. Luckily it's delicious and really easy to put in some tupperware at 4 am. I highly recommend it. The breakfast is a good friend: granola. This time I went a little crazy and put some dried cranberries in. This should be tossed in after the oats and things are already toasted.

Around the same time I thought Cream of Celery Soup was hip and good, I tried making pitas. They proved undeniably more delicious than the soup, but for some reason I quickly lost interest. Having gained about two and a half years of bread experience and more in the way of patience, I'm ready to try again.

This week:

- Pita Bread

- Falafel & Yogurt Tahini Dressing

- Sauerkraut

- Peach White Wine Sangria

First, let's talk about sauerkraut. George is really into it. Billed as a sort of probiotic, it's healthy, it's German - what's not to love? We took a trip to the WNC Farmer's Market and purchased four cabbages for about $4.50. The lady we bought them from pegged us from a mile away, "Somebody's makin' 'kraut!" The thing about sauerkraut is that all the beneficial enzymes are already present in the cabbage, all it really takes is a little shredding and a little time. George's method is as follows: shred the cabbage, place it in a large bowl, add 2-3 T. salt, stuff it all in large jar, and wait a week or so. Specifically, he punches it into the jar - he swears it's crucial. (I see some experimenting with sauerkraut's spicier Korean cousin, kimchi, in our future - stay tuned.)

Falafel intimidates me a little bit, it's the fear of failure. What if they all fall apart? What if I end up with a pile of crumbly bean bits? It must be difficult to prepare. Here's what I decided, it's not earth-shattering, but it's easily forgettable: all the ingredients are tasty on their own. So, theoretically, when combined they remain tasty - whether or not they retain their intended shape. (Maybe someday I'll recount the tragic tale of my fresh fruit tart. Tragic.) The Falafel Burgers from a couple weeks ago have been in regular rotation in my kitchen for a few years. I see them as easy to whip up, easy to bake, easy to keep all week. What never really crossed my mind is that actual falafel could be easier. News flash: it is!

This actual falafel recipe is from Mark Bittman's Best Recipes in the World, a cookbook I highly recommend. (It's chock full of great international recipes, easy to grasp, and so far - simple to prepare.) Here it is: some garbanzo beans, some onions, some spices, parsley*, and an egg have a run-in with a food processor. Then they get rolled into little balls and take a dip in a couple inches of hot oil. Then we were left with a bowl of the best homemade falafel anyone could hope for.

George classified the falafel as, "f#$%ing perfect." With the help of James Beard and Beard on Bread we made them truly perfect - inside fresh pitas. It's the formation of one giant air bubble that creates the pocket in a pita. Actually, it's a lot of little air bubbles expanding and bumping into each other to become one big one. The outside of the loaf becomes tougher before the inside so the bubble doesn't burst through the crust (most of the time.) If you sit, eagerly waiting and watching the pitas bake up you'll see it happen right before your very eyes! (We watched all of them, and even tried to make a video - unfortunately it came out pretty awful.) One of the keys to a successful pita is not letting them become too crispy or dry, which can lead to malfunctioning pockets or generally too-dry bread. I timed ours at about 3 minutes and as they came out of the oven I stacked them one on top of the other and wrapped them in a damp towel, to finish cooling I stuck them into a paper bag (sans damp towel.) Another key is baking them on a stone, we used our pizza stone. Don't let me fool you - Pita Bread is wicked easy, apparently great to try with kids and can be baked in all sorts of ways: in the oven, on the grill, in a skillet.

I found this great video from Julia Child's show "Baking with Julia". This dude, Jeffery Alfred, guides Julia through the process. I had a hard time paying attention, mostly because of his haircut and partially because of his weasley Mr.-Roger's-esque voice.

Peaches are in season, maybe you've noticed. They're pretty inescapable down here. I hear there's debate over whether Georgia peaches are superior to South Carolina peaches or not. It would be like the debate about whether Vermont maple syrup is superior to New Hampshire or Canadian maple syrup**. In reality, I don't think there's a noticable difference. My peach pallete definitely isn't refined enough to honestly tell the difference, but that's really beside the point. Now that the peaches have soaked up some sun their headed to soak up some wine.

Epicurious is a pretty great resource, which is where this Peach White Wine Sangria recipe was found. I warn you, though, it's pretty sweet - literally. In fact, it's too sweet for George to drink. So if you don't dig the sweetness I'd recommend decreasing the sugar or increasing the wine. Or maybe even a little extra lemon juice, or in my case remember to put the lemon juice in period.

Peach White Wine Sangria

From Gourmet via Epicurious

1 c. loosely packed basil + 8 or so extra leaves

3/4 c. sugar

1/4 c. fresh lemon juice

2 cans peach nectar

1 bottle chilled dry white wine

1 large peach, chopped

Put basil, sugar, and lemon juice in a small saucepan and bruise the basil with a wooden spoon. Add one can of peach nectar and bring to a simmer, stir until the sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and let stand 5 minutes, then drain through a seive into a heatproof pitcher and discard the basil. Add in the wine, the other can of peach nectar, the chopped peach and extra basil leaves. Chill!

* So. The parsely. I naturally said, "Parsley, smarsley!" George somehow convinced me it was vital to the dish and that we wouldn't have a ton left over. We currently have a large bunch of parlsey withering away in the vegetable crisper. I'm glad the parsley's in the falafel, but hope to have a healthy crop of my own before I ever need it again.

** For the record, VT maple syrup has been and always will be superior - duh.

While this project is still young, last week I was overwhelmed with some form of writer's block. Despite countless rewordings I couldn't come up with anything satisfactory to say about the dishes, so I'm going to break down real simple: Basil good. Garden good.

From last week:

- Penne with Pesto, Onions & Peppers

- Fresh Salsa

- Sourdough Bread

- Pretty Beets & Carrots

- Mushroom Bacon Fritata

After the whole rain/sun/rain/sun/time passing thing our basil was ready for harvesting and boy, did I harvest. After picking over and measuring...presto: pesto! About two cups of pesto! All the foods instantly became the kinds you make and want to eat all of as quickly as possible. The pesto ended up in a bowl full of penne with sauteed peppers (two of which actually came from our garden!) We got our act together and fed the sourdough starter and ate almost an entire loaf when it came out of the oven. Friends came by bearing a gift of a huge heirloom tomato which became salsa. Beets and carrots and ginger all jumped into the food processor then swam in oil and vinegar and were a salad. The good bacon was on sale, I was too lazy to make pie dough, we had a fritata for dinner. It may not have been eloquent, but it sure was delicious.

Prettiest Beets & Carrots

Based on Pretty Beets & Carrots from Moosewood Restaurant New Classics

Shred:

2 large pretty carrots

2 large pretty beets

Put the shredded roots in a large, pretty bowl and...

Add:

1 T. fresh, grated ginger

3 T. apple cider vinegar

2 T. vegetable oil

1/3 c. finely chopped scallions

salt & pepper to taste

Things managed to get a little hectic around here and I'm running a little late with the write up of last week's dishes!

Now serving:

- Veggie Vichyssoise

- Roasted Garlic and Poppy Seed Bagels

- Falafel Burgers

Sometimes there are foods in the house I can't wait to eat: leftover pasta, chips & salsa, the last bite of an Aero bar, fried tofu. Other times there are things that wreak of mediocrity. I mean, they're fine, probably healthier than what I'd rather be eating and I'm not going to not eat it - I just wish it tasted like pizza. Or bacon. These are the two categories I think the foods this week fit into.

The latter category reminds of the years I lived alone and how I thought I liked Cream of Celery Soup. Is anyone thinking, "Oh man, I love Cream of Celery Soup!"? Or even, "I love celery!" I didn't think so. It just sat in the fridge and I felt...good? Special, maybe? I made it and no one else in their right mind would make it. I ate a little bit at a time and justify it as eating reasonably sized portions. Here's the thing - the whole time I was eating it I found myself choking it down and wishing it had more cheese. ("Wishing it had more cheese" pretty much applies to every food in my life.)

I love illustrations of fruits and vegetables. Think of the back cover of Cook's Illustrated magazine, any book by Alice Waters (also: the menus from Chez Panisse), or Mollie Katzen's Moosewood Cookbook. The particular illustration for Katzen's Vichyssoise doesn't actually have any vegetables in it, but it's a frame - ribbony, with some flowery things. It looks good, regal, full, promising. The part of the recipe that says, "2 cups milk (lowfat ok)" should have tipped me off. Milk. Lowfat. This version of the soup is light, mildly filling, fine for a hot afternoon. Just imagine if it were half and half or heavy cream. Heavy cream is listed as optional. Whatever possessed me to use the milk and not go out in search of heavy cream I'll never know, but as soon as I'd finished pouring the milk I knew it'd been a mistake. It's real "meh." I did add a cup of sauteed kale and a cup of steam zucchini. Kale and zucchini are no substitute for heavy cream.

Moving on with the Moosewoods the Falafel Burger recipe is from the Moosewood Restaurant New Classics. This one's tried and true - easy to make, great for leftovers and even if the burgers alone aren't bursting with enough flavor there's enough room under the bun to jazz it up. It's basically pureed tofu and chickpeas with some sauteed onions and peppers, glued together with tahini and bread crumbs. Oh, and salt. Don't forget the salt. The original recipe calls for a quarter cup of parsley, which I never ever add. Why not? My parsley starts didn't take this year (or any other year, for that matter) and I refuse to buy parsley. Only a small portion of a bunch ever gets used and three-quarters of it ends up in the compost. My fridge is where parsley goes to die.

My fridge is also where bagels go to rise. I tried three or four bagel recipes before I found the one I wanted. I'm not settled with this one, but it's a solid one. What makes a good bagel? It's gotta be crusty and crunchy on the outside, soft and dense on the inside. Density is the key, it truly makes or breaks a bagel; the three words I have to share with you about the density in bagels: high gluten flour. As for flavor, I mean plain-bagel-flavor flavor, there are a couple options. I go for barley malt syrup, but others - including King Arthur - are more into non-diastic malt powder. I don't honestly know the difference and am a little too lazy today to look it up. This time around I added freshly roasted garlic and they are ah-may-zing.

Bagels, however, are something I believe should never be kneaded by hand - unless you're some sort of bread masochist. They're tough. Really tough. Doubly tough when made with high gluten flour. Personally being a bread masochist, I use my food processor to do 90% of the work and I knead a few minutes more to get the dough to smooth out.

Falafel Burgers

Based on the recipe from Moosewood Restaurant New Classics

1 c. diced onions

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 T. olive oil

1 c. diced red pepper

1 t. turmeric

1 t. ground coriander

1/2 t. cumin

1 cake firm tofu, pressed & crumbled

1 15-oz can chickpeas

1 T. tamari

1/4 c. tahini

1/2 t. salt

1/2 c. bread crumbs

Preheat oven to 350, line two baking sheets with parchment.

Saute the onions and garlic in the olive oil on medium heat for 5 minutes. Add the peppers and spices and saute for 5 more minutes, stirring to prevent sticking.

Meanwhile, combine the tofu, chickpeas, and tamari in a food processor (or mash 'em up with a potato masher.) Process them until well combined, but not a paste.

Move the tofu mix to a bowl and add the sauteed vegetables, the tahini, and salt. Mix everything together well, if it's too sticky add up to a 1/2 c. of bread crumbs. Add more salt if necessary.

Use a 1/2 cup to portion out the burgers and form into patties (about 8) and set on baking sheet. Bake for 30 minutes, I usually flip the burgers at the end so they're all nice and browned. I topped mine with red onion and some bacon.