I needed a break. I’m sure you know the drill. You work, work, work 60 hours each week and forget that, wow, the seasons are changing right before your eyes and, wow, you’re so lucky to live in Massachusetts. But I had forgotten all that and desperately needed a mini-vacation, a moment to reconnect with my husband and appreciate the glorious summer that’s beginning to cloak one of my favorite parts of the world, the New England coastline.

Since a real vacation is not in my immediate future and I was itching for a tiny break, I knew the husband could see an idea in my eye when I returned from lunch with one of my favorite foodie people, Heather Atwood, a wonderful lady, food columnist at the Gloucester Daily Times, and sometimes-writer for this very site. She had just met the team at Market Restaurant in Gloucester, Massachusetts and tasted their delicious menu; I was urged to visit as soon as possible.

Gloucester is about 45 minutes from Boston, but only half that from me, so I made an early reservation and zipped out to the seashore on Saturday evening. As the traffic began to build up (as it’s wont to do near the beach), I worried a bit. I didn’t want a busy beach experience, I simply wanted to spend a quiet evening staring at some bobbing boats and devouring some local food. Good, local food. If the traffic didn’t stress me out enough, the anticipation of visiting a new restaurant that had been open only two days did worry me. The hubby and I really needed a chance to breathe and appreciate life, and a bad meal wasn’t going to aid in our relief.

Market Restaurant isn’t exactly in downtown Gloucester. It’s in the village of Annisquam, out on this little interior harbor called Lobster Cove. It’s the type of village that is, as Heather puts it, quite “pure.” (I wondered what she meant, and totally got it the moment we drove into town.) Annisquam is primarily a residential neighborhood, but it does have one restaurant, one little spot on the dock that was recently occupied by this energetic twosome who have some fabulous resumes, including gigs at Alice Waters legendary Chez Panisse in Berkeley, California.

As we turned the bend toward the restaurant, the skies suddenly opened up, letting loose a steady stream of fat rain drops and a few pounds of thunder. It was beautiful and frustrating at the same time. I believe in signs and a downpour was the distinct sign that something big might happen. Well, it totally did. I had one of the most refreshing and friendliest evenings in a long, long time.

Before I even tasted a morsel, I fell in love with the very modest restaurant decor. This joint is small, with seating for about 30 guests, and many of those guests are served at a long bar. The walls are covered in a mellow yellow and warm almost-periwinkle blue, colors I somehow firmly associate with the seaside. The woods in the room are all blond and the tables are so sweet, each pressed and laminated with maps of the region.

The food was as modest as the decor, but in the best possible way. My husband’s pounded tuna carpaccio was sweet, tart and full of texture, thanks to some crispy-fried shallots. It was so pretty and pure on the plate, tempting me to sneak fork-fulls when he was busy staring out at the harbor. I stared out the window too, and was especially touched when a bride and groom jumped onto their sailboat and proceeded to sail off toward their new life… and their reception around the curve. I had a flash of my own wedding, also held on a cove, and smiled before I dug into my dish.

My first course was as pretty as my hubby’s. Imagine a white cafe-style plate, thick and weighty as if it belongs in a roadside diner, but loaded with barely cooked and lightly seasoned shaved asparagus, radicchio, soft-boiled eggs and a crunchy homemade romesco sauce. The pretty pink radish set it all off beautifully… and reminded me that my spicy gems will be ready for harvest next week.

Our next courses were so special too. My salmon was gently cooked (poached? baked?) with butter and potatoes and fava beans and fresh dill and more butter. I couldn’t have been more pleased with the soft dish, each bite sprinkled with fresh local dill sprigs. The hubby loves potatoes and kept nibbling mine. That was fine. I wasted no time lapping up the herby aioli that accompanied his seafood cakes, lightly fried, full of lobster and scallops and barely anything else. I believe they took the position that when you have seafood this fresh, you don’t need much else.

Market Restaurant is very new, so their liquor license is still in progress. That was no bother to us, because we came prepared with a luscious bottle of Hendry Primitivo from our favorite vineyard in Carneros, a region of Napa Valley. The bottle was a precious souvenir from our honeymoon. We keep a small stash of Hendry wines in the bottom of our wine rack (the special spot, no?) and only grab a bottle when the moment moves us. Every moment at Market Restaurant definitely moved us. We felt lucky to live in a region that was finally getting its due, full of fresh local product, meats and grains that would compel seriously inspired chefs to take on an old lobster shack. More pointedly, chefs who would take something small and make it very big, all the while keeping it small… if you follow my drift.

While the food touched our hearts, we were far more impressed by Market’s gift for delivering gentle hospitality. We were seated fairly immediately. But for those forced to wait a few, they were invited to do so on a beautiful deck. With a glass of wine in hand and that gentle breeze, I would have waited all night.

The moment I sat down, my server Lauren (hello, Lauren!) smiled her sweet smile and pointed out that she recognized me from the prior day. In fact, she was in the very same restaurant where Heather and I had eaten lunch, in the same room when Heather urged me to visit Market Restaurant. I love coincidences. Between the downpour and the familiar woman walking us through our meal, the signs were stacking up in our favor.

Lauren was a delight, but so was every staff person in that small room. Everyone was friendly and almost lit up from within. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who felt lucky; the staff seemed united, happy to be making great experiences for each guest. (You can follow Market’s owners/founders on Twitter here.)

The little signs didn’t stop there. Two other little strokes of genius will keep Market in my memory. First, I always celebrate super salty butter and when a restaurant serves creamy butter loaded with delicate salt, I feel loved with each brush of the good stuff on my crusty bread. Market serves bread from A.J. King in Salem, Massachusetts. A.J. King makes some great bread and the butter only made it shine more.

The next special little sign was the milk served with my coffee. Both the coffee and milk were lovely and local, but better yet, the milk was served in the cutest little glass bottles labeled as though they were from, get this, Normandie. As in, France. As in, where I lived for the early part of this year. As in, it may not mean much to others but for me, it was a gentle reminder of my time over there. It hit a memory in the best possible way, and stuck my entire Market experience into my memory as well, way back there, in the spot where you just don’t forget for a long, long time.

Our dinner at Market was really wonderful, and the entire experience moved me to want to cook. (Don’t you love it when that happens? When a chef or restaurant or experience sparkles enough to make you say, “I want to do that. I bet if I focused, I could do that!”) So I spent today focused on making that herby aioli. As members of the Cape Ann Fresh Catch weekly distribution program, we get piles of amazing fish from just off the coast of Gloucester every week. I knew that herby aioli would go well with any of it, so made a large batch packed with herbs from my garden, local eggs from my farm (a.k.a., my community-supported agriculture program) and lots of olive oil. It wasn’t perfect, but cooking never is. I’ve stashed it away in my fridge for our fish later this week.

So while the food and hospitality and decor were all very lovely, Market restaurant won’t be remembered for all those things individually. I’ll remember the smiles from the staff, the bride and groom on the boat, and the downpour that finally broke for the sun to shine down on this little cove. I’ll remember the vacation vibe radiating from all the guests and from one previously stressed-out husband and wife (us!). I’ll remember and remake that aioli all summer long, and perhaps twist it up and make it mine. And I’m certainly bringing all my summer visitors out to Market Restaurant, so they can make their own little memories.

Not one month ago, my yard was three empty wooden boxes held together by nails and pounds of soil. My pea stone surround was seeing signs of wear with lots of weeds and grass poking through trying to taste the deliciously warm sun. Even my garden bench, a polished-up find from the local dump, was sad. Neither empty raised bed nor worn pea stones nor sad garden bunch could hold me back!

Upon return from Paris, I was gifted a third raised bed as a welcome present from my hubby (he knows me well) and accepted the challenge eagerly, drawing up plans, sketches, lists, visions and recipes for all the delicious produce nature would soon gift me. Though it takes four months to adequately benefit from a juicy heirloom harvest — hello, tomatoes! — I try to plan out my beds such that I’m reaping fairly immediate gratification.

This year’s garden is already showing signs of progress and will soon be overflowing with the following: four different types of lettuces, including red leaf, frisee and arugula; Cocozelle zucchini (a tiny Italian variety); two varieties of tomatillos; lemongrass; chives (that survived last year’s frost); Italian parsley; eggplant (the Hansel and Fairytale varieties, so darling); cabbage; three types of beans (black, purple and snap peas); two precious varieties of radishes; rainbow swiss chard; two hot peppers, including my beloved serano pepper; two types of carrots (Cosmic Purple and Little Fingers); rhubarb; and, four varieties of tomatoes (San Marzano, Hillbilly, Sungold and Zapotec).

I also tossed in some flowers for color, so the beds will be dotted with nasturtiums, marigolds, clematis and snapdragons. And, I couldn’t forget to include a wide variety of herbs like oregano, rosemary, lemon thyme, Italian parsley, sweet marjoram, three types of sage, three types of mint (including chocolate mint for cocktails and baking), and 12 Genovese basil plants (because you can never have too much pesto).

Oh, I almost forgot to mention the melons and squash planted in my side bed! I’m hoping these vegetable vines will take over a fussy bed that fills with bamboo each month. I gently planted two Cinderella-style pumpkins (the best!) and one European-style melon (Charentais). I just adore that moment in October when the pumpkins are ready to be baked with or shown off to neighbors during Halloween festivities.

After all the planning, planting, watering and weeding, I get excited cutting my first lettuces (which I did today) and snipping the first bits of herbs, sans jacket. To the anti-gardener, I suppose my zest for growing stuff seems a bit dramatic. But I am proud to say that I kind of live for this stuff. I also live for the first beautiful day when I can finally share a glass of wine (or two) in the garden with my family and friends.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like the wine goes down smoother, easier, sweeter in a backyard where you work hard to bring things to life, where you know the wine will someday soon be served with produce growing just a few feet away. Speaking of, what will I do with all these veggies? I have a long list of ideas already brewing, thanks to all the amazing food bloggers across the Web. Here are just a sampling:

• There are 45 Things To Do With Fresh Sage
• A delicious recipe for Fresh Tomatillo Salsa
• Pumpkin donuts calling my name
• These pretty Rustic Rhubarb Tarts
• A beautiful Rosemary Olive Oil Cake
• Squash Blossom Pizza, oh wow!
• These delightful Lettuce Wraps with radishes
• Wait… there’s more…!

I may also make many of the following dishes:

• Shrimp, Wild Rice and Spring Vegetable Soup
• Carrot Salad with Harissa, Feta and Mint
• Backyard Garden Tomatoes with Cheese
• Swiss Chard Recipe
• Eggplant Parmesan Lasagna with Swiss Chard
• Acorn Squash Quesadillas with Tomatillo Salsa
• Orange Frosted Pumpkin Muffins

I’m not sure if my dog loves all this gardening madness, but I certainly do. Cheers to you and a season of great veggies and great recipes! By the way, I am torn on what to do with all this lettuce. Any thoughts on recipes I should consider? I’m open to anything, just put them in the comments. Thank you all!

While I make coffee in the morning, I like to open our kitchen door to let in the warmth of the sun or the coolness of the winter rain. Today, I could smell the remaining footprints of our last winter rains mixed with the scent of springtime jasmine.

After two days of icy cold rains, we were blessed with warm weather and slivers of sunshine. I was excited. I grabbed a quick cup of coffee, kissed Lenny good-bye and headed out with camera and notepad in hand, to explore the Alemany Farmer’s Market.

This market is not terribly far from our house so I had no excuse not to visit. As I turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of the market and got very excited. There was a sea of colored tops and vendor stalls, which was a very pleasant surprise as my last market adventure was near rained out. When I found parking immediately, I knew this trip was meant to be.

As soon as I started walking from my car, the foggy air was filled with the aroma of fresh brewed coffee, a hint of spicy food and the distant sounds of steel drums. I was immediately taken back to a far away land; I was no longer in the middle of San Francisco. I was completely ready to jump in.

When I arrive at a market, I first take a walk through, to see who is there, what is available and scout out the best prices. There was no fluff, no tourists, and the prices were right. I later discovered it was the first farmer’s market in California. Started in 1943, the Alemany Market has been dubbed the “people’s market.” It has all sorts of product, but also great just-cooked food and lively entertainment.

This market supports small family farmers and it is about 50% certified organic. There is fresh produce for a variety of backgrounds like Chinese chives, bok choy and daikon, and Latin-inspired sugarcane and guavas. The final days of winter were still evident in piles of root vegetables, citrus, apples and hard squashes. But, there was a small glimmer of spring in the early season green garlic, strawberries and bright tulips.

I fell in love with a small organic farmer, Tomatero Farms. They had an abundance of everything I wanted: broccoli, beets, wild arugula, wintergreens, kale and super sweet carrots. The staff at Tomatero are young, upbeat and very personable, and promised that the hints of spring would be budding at the market in only a few short weeks. I am so excited to be cooking with their produce this week and am equally excited to learn that they dry-farm their tomatoes. Can Summer come soon enough?!

This market also had an assortment of food vendors. I love street food and this is a great place to get some amazing food. Not only were there freshly shucked oysters but also amazing tamales, wood-fired pizzas and Malaysian-style crepes.

Entertainment was around every corner. I listened to a steel drum player who took me back to the days when I use to travel to the Caribbean. I watched the old woman who was entertaining small children with her dancing cat while she played her saw. And, finally, I was taken back to a movie I loved, The Visitor, when I heard drums beaten over at Princess Aisha’s stand, lovely background music to set off her pretty Shea products and baskets.

Alemany Farmer’s Market is more than a farmer’s market. It’s a place where everyone can meet up and fill their baskets with produce and a bit of community spirit. I’ll be returning soon.

Alemany Farmers Market,100 Alemany Blvd, 101 Saturdays, 6AM-6PM

I miss Summer. I know I’m not the only one. But while others miss the beach and icy margaritas, I miss visiting the farmers’ market each week. Last year was the first time I signed up for a community-supported agriculture (CSA) program and it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Each Monday, I would visit the friendly folks at the Silverbrook Farm tent, where unlike other CSAs, they give you free reign to choose your vegetables. Throughout the Summer and Fall, I experienced the micro-seasonality of a southeastern Massachusetts farm, greedily snatching up bags and bags of amazingly flavorful tomatoes, greens, onions, potatoes, basil, berries, peaches, plums, apples, squash, and eggplant. I couldn’t resist stocking up on Silverbrook’s colorful jams and jellies, some of which I hid away in my pantry so I could have bursts of summer all winter long. I see I’m not the only one who fell for their jam!

While New York City and Rhode Island love winter farmers’ markets, Boston is seriously lacking on that front. When the market closed in November, I sadly headed back to my supermarket with the goal of trying to eat as seasonally and locally as possible. Fast forward to February when my co-worker told me about a winter farmers’ market that she had recently visited. I was so excited by the idea, I peppered her with questions until she agreed to take me along.

Last Saturday morning, we made our way to the town of Wayland to visit the sprawling Russell’s Garden Center. The place was packed! We wandered past Russell’s beautiful greenhouse and through vendors selling hummus, salsa, and dried fruit leather, until we came upon the farm stands. I recognized Red Fire Farm, and soon began to examine their offerings of root vegetables and greenhouse grown spinach, collards and greens. A recipe began to take shape in my head, and I set about gathering rutabagas, turnips and parsnips – vegetables known to me by name, but not as much by taste. I couldn’t wait to get them home and roast them up!

The following is the loose recipe I created for this massive haul of winter vegetables. Feel free to use different vegetables, and to increase the amount of the maple balsamic mixture. I served them over polenta with feta cheese sprinkled on top for a great wintry meal.

Maple Balsamic Roasted Root Vegetables

Ingredients

• 3 rutabagas
• 3 parsnips
• 2 turnips
• 4 large carrots
• 3 radishes
• 3 tbsp balsamic vinegar
• 3 tbsp maple syrup (honey would also go nicely here)
• 1/3 cup olive oil
• 1 glug of soy sauce (optional)
• 2 teaspoons fresh thyme, stripped from woody stems
• 2 teaspoons rosemary, stripped from stems and chopped
• salt and pepper to taste

Turn the oven on to 400 degrees. Line two cookie sheets or jelly roll pans with tin foil. Wash and peel the root vegetables and cut into uniform sized pieces. (I usually go for a smaller size so that they don’t take as long to roast.) Place all cut vegetables into a large bowl and set aside.

In a smaller bowl or a glass measuring cup, combine the vinegar, maple syrup and olive oil (and add the soy sauce here, if you are using). Pour the mixture over the vegetables and toss to coat well. Roast the vegetables, tossing once in awhile, for about 30 minutes or until browned and softened.

There is one Saturday remaining (February 27) at the winter farmers’ market at Russell’s Garden Center. Don’t miss your chance!

Goose Cove Gardens is one of Gloucester’s best treasures, a garden nursery with the healthiest plants and the nicest Karma.  Barbara, the lovely straw-hatted owner, is always protecting me from myself: “Do you really need five new Russian Sage, Heather?”

Ever the educators, Barbara and the ladies from Goose Cove Gardens are offering a midwinter course in growing one’s own micro greens.  Don’t we all want a little pile of fluffy, nutrient-packed baby lettuces this time of year?

Their workshop will be held on Sunday, February 28, from 1-3pm at Goose Cove Garden headquarters. For the small sum of $30 ($35 after February 15), you can learn from some true masters. Email gcgarden@verizon.net or call 978-281-7816 to sign up.

Heather Atwood is a columnist for the Gloucester Daily Times. Her latest column can be read here.

This soup was inspired by a haul from my CSA and truly rocks my world. It may not seem fancy or unusual, but the addition of a goat milk béchamel to thicken the soup imparts the most divine flavor that feels at once healthy and luxurious. I’ve been sharing this recipe with vegetarian (non-vegan) friends who give it rave reviews.

Slow Cooker Cauliflower & Mushroom Soup

Ingredients for Soup Base

• 1 medium onion chopped
• 2 medium carrots chopped
• 4 garlic cloves thinly sliced
• 1 2-inch piece of ginger, peeled and sliced into thin batons
• 1 whole cauliflower sliced into 1/2 inch slices
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 bunch of thyme springs (5-6 springs) tied with kitchen string
• 1 tablespoon of salt
• 1/2 tablespoon of black pepper
• 64 ounces of low sodium chicken stock (2 32-ounce cartons)
• 12 ounces of baby bella mushrooms, sliced in half
• 1/4 cup fresh parsley chopped

Ingredients for Béchamel Sauce

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 1 cup of goat milk (or cow milk)
• 1/2 cup of grated parmesan cheese
• 1/2 teaspoon of grated nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon of salt
• 1/4 teaspoon of white pepper

In a slow cooker set to high, gently place the following ingredients – onion, carrots, garlic, ginger, cauliflower, bay leaves, thyme bunch, salt, pepper and chicken stock. Let the cooker work its magic for at least 4 hours.

At the 4-hour mark, add in the mushrooms into the slow cooker.

At the same time, make the béchamel sauce: Melt the butter in a sauce pan over medium heat. Stir in the flour until dissolved and cook a couple of minutes until the mixture has turned a light beige in color. Whisk in the goat milk, cheese, nutmeg, salt and white pepper. Continue to stir for about 5 minutes while the mixture thickens.

Remove the thyme bunch and bay leaves from the soup. Stir the béchamel sauce into the soup. (At this point, I poured the contents of my slow cooker into a pot on the stove, set to medium heat, and stirred in the béchamel sauce. My slow cooker was too tiny to hold everything, but yours may be large enough for everything.)

Add the chopped parsley and taste to ensure the seasoning is to your taste. Add additional salt and pepper as needed. Serve in deep bowls with a little toasted bread and a drizzle of your best extra virgin olive oil.

About three years ago, as I was watching an episode of the Martha Stewart Show, I had my own mini-epiphany. I was watching a young, self-taught baker school Martha in the ways of organic, all-natural, vegan baking. Martha, the expert at basically everything, was being nudged around by a slight and slightly spicy Erin McKenna, a woman who had only been cooking a few years. Erin wasn’t in charge; Martha was certainly the chief in her television kitchen. But Erin wasn’t frightened either, or, if she was, she sure did retain her composure and humor.

For a moment or two, I was embarrassed for Erin, thinking she should have bowed to the domestic goddess before her. Who was she to tell Martha to “move on” now? But as the segment ended, I puffed up a bit, becoming proud of the quirky Erin McKenna. She owned her story, her business and her cooking approach, and showed Martha a thing or two. With very little experience under her belt, she stood up to the Goliath before her. As the commercial faded in, I marched over to my husband to say, “Hell, if Erin can do it, I can do it! I’m going to start a site and call it Eat Boutique. I love everything boutique, small, teeny, local – especially food – so I’m going to do it right now.”

My husband bought the domain and the rest is, well, my own personal history. This site has encouraged me to travel regularly, to eat everything and to meet people I would have never met otherwise. It grows bit by bit and, in fact, my biggest personal accomplishment launches in just a week or two. After scouting out food and producers across New England, I’m finally going to offer up a little gift-box of some amazing sweet and savory delights. It may seem small, but it’s a big step for me. The mini-entrepreneur in me is finally doing something for me. It’s a labor of love and while it may never pay the bills, it’s fun and deeply satisfying.

I hope you’ll visit the moment my shopping cart launches, just after Thanksgiving. Til then, I finally picked up Erin’s BabyCakes cookbook, and made this recipe a few weeks ago. Instead of muffins, I poured the batter into mini-paper loaf forms. So cute and so delicious and so healthful. Thanks, Erin.

Pumpkin-Spice Muffins

[Recipe adapted from BabyCakes cookbook]

Ingredients

• 2 cups Bob’s Red Mill Gluten-Free All-Purpose Baking Flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon xanthan gum
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon ground ginger
• 1/2 cup coconut oil, plus more for the pan
• 2/3 cup agave nectar
• 2/3 cup rice milk
• 2 tablespoons pure vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups canned unsweetened pumpkin puree
• 1/2 cup hot water

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the first 7 ingredients. Add the next 4 ingredients to the dry ingredients. Stir until the batter is smooth and thick. Fold in the pumpkin and hot water until both are evenly distributed throughout the batter.

Pour 1/3 cup batter into each prepared cup, almost filling it. Bake the muffins on the center rack for 22 minutes, rotating the tin 180 degrees after 10 minutes. The finished muffins will be soft to the touch, and a toothpick inserted in the center will come out clean.

Let the muffins stand in the tin for 15 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack and cool completely. Store the muffins in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days.

Similarly delightful recipes elsewhere, at sites I love:

• Brown Sugar and Peach Muffins at Vegan Yum Yum
• Vegan Pumpkin Muffins at Foodista
• Vegan Pumpkin Muffins at Nosh With Me

I’ve been dreaming about these light as air pillows since I morphed into a serious home cook. Years ago, I wanted to venture into gnocchi territory but something always frightened me. I figured homemade gnocchi was like homemade pasta, something that is conceptually easy to make but turns out to be a difficult-to-master technique passed down from Italian mamas and Italian grand-mamas. Pasta and gnocchi have always scared me and made me feel that if I messed them up, my Italian heritage may somehow disown me. But the more I experiment with new recipes and come out on the other end either learning a lesson or deliciously rewarded, the more I want to try recipes that feel weighty and quite impossible.

Gnocchi isn’t a breeze of a recipe, but it’s actually not as impossible as I had thought. I had heard that a little practice would deliver the perfect gnocchi, puff balls that are light, airy, and of an almost melt-in-your-mouth consistency. I’ve never made gnocchi until today and miraculously, I think I got it right.

As I researched gnocchi techniques and recipes, I was surprised to encounter the dilemma first timers mull – whether to use eggs or choose an authentic but harder method that uses just potatoes, salt and flour. Eggs help you bind the dough, making it easier to roll, shape and boil. Without eggs, you have to find just the right ratio of flour to potato and exhibit loads of patience as you roll and boil, as an egg-less dough has a tendency to fall apart. I was going to take the easy way out of this dilemma as I am all for easy, but Tessa Kiros convinced me otherwise.

Tessa Kiros is a fabulous home cook, inspired by her childhood and family, her eclectic background, the Mediterranean, everything. This home cook also happens to be the author of some of the most beautiful cookbooks I have ever seen. Here’s a video of her discussing 2007’s Apples for Jam. And I found this lovely video that profiles her family and earlier cookbook, Falling Cloudberries (which has been reissued). This week, I finally and gratefully added Twelve and Venezia to my collection and she inspired me to be bold, like her Italian recipes. I created these pillows from my farm’s waxy potatoes, some Italian doppio zero flour and kosher salt. Thanks to Tess, there was not an egg in sight.

Luckily and surprisingly, it worked. On the first try. Yes, I was gobsmacked too! All I can offer is this lazy Sunday afternoon permitted me to take my time and really listen to the dough, paying attention to the texture and not over-working it. I also used some very finely milled flour, though theoretically any old white flour would have produced similar results. I will say that boiling up a small batch before deeming my mixture final was critical; it permitted me a chance to taste the lightness and stop adding flour.

With a drizzle of browned butter and freshly fried sage from my garden, I felt like Tessa gave me the keys to my Italian universe. I know I can cook great Italian food, with or without Tessa. But now I feel like I can make anything. Pasta doesn’t feel so out of reach after all. Perhaps next Sunday!

Gnocchi di Patate

This recipe was adapted from Tessa’s base recipe.

Ingredients

• 3 lbs of waxy potatoes, cleaned
• 12 ounces plain all-purpose flour (I used a finely milled doppio zero)
• Salt

Boil the potatoes in lightly salted water for 20 minutes, until tender. Drain them and when cool enough to handle, peel them.

Pass the potatoes through a ricer or food mill. (If you don’t have one, buy one. It’s worth it and the only way to ensure light gnocchi. I purchased this one and it worked wonderfully. I cannot wait to see the wonder it works on my mashed potatoes.)

Add a little salt to the potatoes and enough flour to make a soft, elastic dough. I mixed in 1 cup (8 ounces) of flour with my hands and then added another 1/2 cup (4 ounces) gradually. The dough may stick to your hands a touch.

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Quickly, roll logs of dough on a floured work surface until the log is about 3/4 of an inch around. Gently cut the log into angled pillows that are about 1 inch long. Place the pillows on a floured baking sheet until you’re ready to boil them.

Before you boil them, make sure your desired sauce is ready. The gnocchi cooks in a few minutes. From the moment you pop them into the boiling water, you’ll notice them buzz around and then quickly float to the top. Once they surface to the top of the water, they’re done. Pull them out and place them in a buttered or oiled baking dish while you cook the rest.

Top with your sauce and serve immediately. If you prefer, you may freeze the gnocchi on your baking sheet. Once frozen, place each piece in a freezer proof bag or container. You can boil them just as you would if they were fresh.

I topped my gnocchi with a browned butter that had a few sage leaves. I also made a sausage ragu, based loosely on a Tessa Kiros recipe from Twelve, that complimented them beautifully.

By the way, here are a few other nice recipes I found during my research:

• Gnocchi with Brown Butter and Sage
• How to Make Homemade Gnocchi
• Tessa Kiro’s Ragu Recipe – I based my ragu recipe off of hers, but used ground sausage meat, a little bacon & red wine instead of white. I also added in carrots, leeks and some fresh parsley.

I adore brussels sprouts. I adore Georgia Pellegrini. When Georgia posted on brussels sprouts recently, my objects of adoration collided and it felt as if our virtual bond was forever cemented. I love anyone who loves brussels sprouts and her photos are a tribute to this under-appreciated vegetable.

Georgia is a food fanatic, chef, writer and TV personality who hunts down artisan food experiences and profiles those food heroes on her blog and in her soon-to-be-released book, appropriately titled “Food Heroes.” Georgia and I are passionate about the same stuff – hand-crafted food, the slower, old-fashioned way of preserving culture through food. We both support keeping it local and authentic. And I have a feeling she’s as into independent, small Mom-n-Pop producers, chefs and restaurateurs as I am. I will watch her food journey very, very closely.

Getting back to the food… If you hate brussels sprouts, and I’d be so disappointed in you if you did, please dig into Georgia’s easy recipe. Here’s a snippet of her post:

“As you know, I like changing people’s minds. It makes me fuzzy inside. Most people don’t like brussel sprouts. It’s the black sheep of vegetables… “eeew brussel sprouts,” is the default way to use it in a sentence. But they really are lovely little things…”

Read the rest of Georgia’s post here. Thanks for the brussels sprouts inspiration, Georgia! (Oh, and by the way, all the photos here were taken by Georgia, not me.)