I miss my fresh figs. Each day for about four weeks in October, I fervently pluck them from our tree with fear that there won't be any left tomorrow. We were fortunate this year that no greedy squirrels got to them. Either they took no notice of the sweet bounty hiding in our backyard, or the little fox living under the patio scared them away. At least, we like to pretend it's a fox; it could easily just be a gopher or two, coming out of hiding in the dark to nibble at fallen fruit. While Winter means fresh figs are unattainable, it also means that if you can find some good quality, unsulphured dried ones, your life will taste almost as good. I was able to get my hands on some of the Calimyrna variety, ones which seem to dry more plump and with a sweet, sugary residue on the outside. They were an addition to my breakfast this past weekend: A dreamy baked oatmeal, reminiscent of my favorite fruit cobbler. The smell, upon emerging from the oven, is intoxicating and inexplicably buttery. As I was bringing some to my mom later that morning it sat, patiently, on the passenger seat next to me and filled the car with a life-altering and heavenly aroma. Half of it was already gone. When serving for yourself, top with a dollop of creamy yogurt and a drizzle of raw honey, as I did. Scoop all the succulent juices from the bottom of the pan. Go back for seconds. Go back for thirds and call it lunch. I would also advise making it dinner, however I doubt any will remain. If you don't like buckwheat, or haven't any on hand, simply use a full cup of oats instead. The result will be a tad more crisp, but no less delicious.

---------------------------------------------------------

Baked Buckwheat Oatmeal with Cranberries, Dried Figs & Pistachios // Serves 4 comfortably

-Adapted from Seven Spoons- Ingredients coconut oil for greasing the baking dish 3/4 cup thick rolled oats (not instant) 1/4 cup roasted buckwheat “kasha” 1/2 cup shelled pistachios, chopped 4 dried Calimyrna figs, diced 2 tablespoons flax seeds 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger 1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves 1/8 teaspoon kosher salt 3/4 cup coconut milk (full fat) plus enough water to make 1 1/3 cups liquid 3 tablespoons raw honey 1 large egg white 1 tablespoon coconut oil, melted seeds scraped from a 1-inch section of vanilla bean 3/4 cup frozen cranberries (not thawed) for serving: plain yogurt and more raw honey or maple syrup Directions: Preheat oven to 375’. Lightly grease the inside of an 8" round baking dish with coconut oil and set aside (alternatively, you can use a square 8x8 glass pan). Line the bottom of a large rimmed baking sheet with foil. In a medium bowl, mix together the oats, buckwheat, pistachios, dried figs, flax seeds, baking powder, spices and salt. Set aside. In another bowl, whisk together the coconut milk/water, egg white, melted coconut oil, vanilla bean seeds and honey. Set aside. In the prepared baking dish, scatter the cranberries evenly in the bottom. Pile the oat mixture to evenly cover the berries. Carefully pour the wet milk mixture over the oats; it will not completely cover the oats with liquid; this is okay. If you use a pie plate, it will be very full. Place on rimmed baking sheet lined with foil (to catch any spillage) and bake for 45 minutes, until the oatmeal is puffed and set, with a golden brown top. Remove from the oven, allow to cool for a few minutes, then enjoy. Makes about 4-5 hearty servings. *Variations: Instead of cranberries, dried figs and pistachios, try: Grated apples with raisins and walnuts or diced persimmon with currants and buttery pecans.

December. It's December. Indeed it is. December the third, to be exact. Day number three of the 31 craziest, most hectic, most stressful and swiftly-moving days of the entire year. Much like the test you forgot to study for, we wake up on December third (or first, for that matter) and realize with a jolt of panic that we've barely prepared. Every day this month we will be expected to perform, and yet we don't know the script. There are papers to write and finals to take, not to mention gifts to buy or make and parties to plan and attend. As I look ahead at my to-do list for the next four weeks, however, I feel strangely calm. Amidst the clamor that's about to ensue, I feel collected and composed. I have no idea why, and I'm afraid to question it for fear it will disappear. Therefore, I won't talk about it anymore except to say: I am grateful. Although, I want to take a moment to reflect on the concept of resolutions, because in a few short weeks it will be New Year's Eve and we'll all be making them. Now... I can understand why the idea of starting the new year off in a better way is appealing: We are all somewhat attracted to the idea of reinventing ourselves, emerging from the dark and indulgent days of December ready to become new people. Physically, mentally or intellectually, it doesn't matter. We are a people of progress and of improvement, and I believe this is why we make resolutions in the first place. But why on January first, exactly one month after the day many of us feel is the start of that time when our jeans stop fitting and we lose all self-control? Why not today, on December third? Let's take a momentary mental step back to realize that this day is just like any other day. The sun will rise, we'll go about our daily tasks, the sun will set and we'll do it all again tomorrow. Why is January first so significant, other than the fact that it marks the start of 2011? A resolution is, simply, to resolve to do something. Whatever your "New Year's resolutions" are going to be (because I'm sure some of you have already started a list of things you plan to undo after December), why not make your resolutions today? My main life complaint, for example, is that I'm horrible at saying no. I'm a pleaser. If something sounds appealing, I say yes, always and without fail. And I hate letting people down. But lately, the effects of doing this for so many years have started to take their toll on me, both mentally and physically, and it is time for me to be adamant. Therefore, my resolution is to simply live more simply. Starting today, I will not acquire any additional activities or hobbies or jobs that I desperately want but just thinking about how to make them fit into my schedule causes me to break out in sweat. If an opportunity comes along that fits the standards for living simply, I will think carefully before I say yes. There's my resolution. I easily could have waited until January first, and then I guess it would have felt more monumental. But I'm making it today. Much like this rustic polenta tart, the rest of the month of December for me will be about noticing and embracing life's little joys and comforts. Perfection is sometimes nearly obtained when a few humble ingredients join to form a beautiful complex of flavors, warming and filling for body and soul and delicious in its simplicity. May your December be sweet, simple and comfortable. May you enjoy this polenta.

----------------------------------------------

Mushroom Polenta Tart // serves 8

-Adapted from 101 Cookbooks- Ingredients: 1 cup whole-grain cornmeal 1 cup water pinch of salt 1 portobello mushroom, diced 1 sprig fresh rosemary, chopped 1 cup vegetable broth 1/3 cup plain yogurt 1 tomato, thinly sliced, for garnish grated parmesan cheese, for serving Instructions: Preheat the oven to 400' degrees. Butter and flour (or line bottom with parchment paper) one 8-9-inch glass pie plate or regular tart pan. In a medium bowl, combine the cornmeal with water and salt. Stir and set aside. In a large thick-bottomed skillet over medium-high heat, cook onions with olive oil until starting to brown. Add mushrooms and rosemary, cooking for a few minutes more. Once cooked through, remove from heat and set aside. Bring the vegetable broth to a boil in a medium saucepan, add the water and cornmeal mixture, bring back up to a boil and stir until it is thicker than a heavy frosting - about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in about 2/3 of the onion/mushroom mixture, the yogurt and some freshly ground black pepper. Spoon the mixture into the prepared pan, spreading it to an even thickness, and top with sliced tomatoes then the remaining onion/mushroom mixture. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until the cornmeal is firm and begins to pull away from the sides of the pan a bit. Serve with sauteed kale and nutmeg, as I did.

As was expected, I ate myself straight into a coma on Thursday afternoon. Every Thanksgiving, some sort of deranged mindset takes over such that I must help myself to a little of everything and not dare disgrace the table by leaving one speck of it on my plate. Attempting (and failing) to convince the rest of my family and our guests that I needed a break between dinner and dessert, I resorted to doing jumping-jacks while the table was being cleared in order to make room in my belly for the grand finale. You may already know my opinion on the matter, but I plan to say it anyway: dessert is by far the best part of any meal. To me it has many, many meanings and can arrive in plenty of forms. The definition of dessert is unique to every human being who eats, but I choose to define it as an after-dinner bite from which immense pleasure is taken. I usually find it in a few squares of good quality, extra-dark, almost bitter chocolate. Sometimes I make a single ramekin of apple crisp or once, on a whim, a pumpkin gingerbread souffle. My general rule of thumb is to use only natural sweeteners and whole-grain flours, if flour is required. This way, dessert serves as both the challenge and the reward. This Pear & Apricot Tart does exactly that. In the base, I used a combination of whole-wheat and spelt flours and raw honey to sweeten. With trace minerals and allergy-fighting properties (if you buy locally), raw honey is great to use in place of sugar and the generic processed "honey." It's also very easy to find. The honey contributed nicely to the wonderful earthy flavor of the tart and gave it a perfect amount of sweetness. Of course, feel free to add more or less to suit your desires. This tart is wholesome enough to be called relatively healthy, with enough butter to be called indulgent. The perfect balance, if you ask me.

---------------------------------------

Pear & Apricot Tart // serves 8

-Adapted from Real Simple Magazine- Ingredients 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature 1/2 cup raw almonds 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon raw honey 1 large egg 1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour 1/2 + 1/3 cup whole-grain spelt flour 1/2 teaspoon baking powder liberal pinch of salt 2 firm pears, peeled, quartered and cored 1/2 cup dried apricots, halved 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice 1/4 cup apricot preserves Instructions -Heat oven to 350'. Grease a 9-inch removable-bottom tart pan or 9-inch glass pie plate with coconut oil or butter. -In a food processor, process almonds until finely ground. Add butter, egg, almond extract and 1/2 cup honey and process until smooth. Add the flours, baking powder and salt and pulse a few times to combine. The dough will be sticky. -Spread the dough into the bottom of the prepared pan or pie plate. -In a small bowl, toss the pears and apricots with lemon juice and remaining tablespoon of honey. Arrange the pears in the dough, pressing in slightly. Scatter the apricots over the dough and press in gently. -Bake until pears are tender and the center is firm, 55 minutes or so. Cover the edges with foil if they start to brown too quickly, as mine did. -In a small bowl, combine the preserves with 1 tablespoon water. Brush over the warm tart and let cool before serving.

Happy birthday, sister. I made you some buttercream. I smeared it on a pound cake.

It's chocolate. It's definitely not a low-fat food. But you wouldn't want it to be, and all the better, because there's no such thing as low-fat buttercream anyway.

Thank goodness for that.

I know it looks like I sprinkled dirt on the top there, but I didn't, I swear. I took a few squares of Toblerone chocolate, a ziploc bag and a hammer. I know it's your favorite snack, and we didn't have any sprinkles, so there you go.

The flowers are not edible. By the way.

I hope you're enjoying your week home. I also hope you can't wait to go back to school. Because if you didn't, I would worry. College can be a very lonely place if you let it get to you.

You've started saying home when you refer to school, and that's okay. It's a good thing actually. Someday you really will call someplace other than here your home, so you might as well start practicing.

Anyhow, happy 19th birthday, and if you ever feel like making some chocolate buttercream in your dorm room, here's how to do it.

-------------------------------------------------

Deep Chocolate Buttercream // frosts 1 cake

Quick, easy, rich and mousse-like. Ingredients: 1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature 1 cup powdered sugar 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 Tablespoons milk Directions: -Sift sugar and cocoa into a medium bowl. -In a large bowl, whip the butter with a hand-held electric mixer for about 30 seconds. Add half the sugar/cocoa mixture and whip until incorporated. Add vanilla, milk and the rest of the sugar/cocoa and whip to thoroughly combine. -Frost your cake & refrigerate until ready to eat. *Variation: You can add some chocolate liqueur to take things up a notch.

[gallery columns="2"]

It's like when we're children and our mother decides to make something new for dinner, or something she hasn't made in a while. We sit down at the table and ask, "What are we having?" And, upon hearing the answer, we usually make some sort of scene: "Awwww, but I hate peas!" The one food I just could not tolerate growing up was a pile of blanched peas. I would unwillingly sit at the kitchen table for hours, long after everyone else had moved on to dishes and toys and bath time, staring at my uneaten peas and willing them to disappear. I always lost the battle.

Or when my mom made a mushroom pasta dish for the first time. I sat there and defiantly stated, "I hate mushrooms," to which she replied, "How do you know if you've never even tried them?" "Because I have, and I hate them." If some advocate for fried eggs had been following me around for all these years, their campaign would have sounded similar to this. Of course I've never tried fried eggs, just like I'd never tried mushrooms. Perhaps it was something about the way the yolk, when stabbed with a fork, would ooze onto the plate and cover whatever was underneath it with a filmy yellow sauce. I found the idea of eating undercooked eggs creepy, and saw no reason to pursue a relationship with them. I just... hated them.

I don't know what changed, all of a sudden. I came upon this recipe for Olive-Oil-Fried Eggs atop a bed of lentil stew, and it sounded so good! So gourmet! So French! So I made it, and I covered it with copious amounts of turmeric and black pepper,  and I punctured my first undercooked yolk, and it oozed, bright yellow, all over my stewed lentils, just as I had feared it would. But I tried it. And I liked it. I liked it so much that I made it again for dinner two nights later. And again two nights after that. I was smitten. That was the day I learned to love fried eggs. ---------------------------------------------------

Umbrian Lentil Stew with Olive-Oil-Fried Eggs and Asparagus // serves 2

This dish is reminiscent of Deborah Madison’s stewed lentils that I know and love, but adding turmeric to this batch provided a little Moroccan flair and distinctly earthier flavor. I have also fallen in lust with fried eggs! This warm and hearty meal is my new favorite comfort food of the season. [Adapted from Food & Wine] Ingredients: enough asparagus for two people, ends trimmed 1 small carrot, coarsely chopped 1/2 small yellow onion, diced 2 large cloves garlic, minced 1 Tbsp. tomato paste 1/2 tsp. ground turmeric 1 1/4 cups Umbrian or green lentils (I used a mix of the two) 1 quart vegetable broth salt and pepper 2 large eggs a few leaves of kale Parmesan or Romano cheese and aged balsamic vinegar, for serving Directions: -In a food processor, finely chop the carrot. Add the carrots, onion and garlic to a saucepan with 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium or medium-low heat. Cook, stirring, until veggies are softened, about 7 minutes. -Add the tomato paste and turmeric and stir over moderately high heat until shiny, 1 minute. Add the lentils and 2 1/2 cups of the broth and bring to a boil. Simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, until most of the broth has been absorbed, 25 minutes. Add 1 more cup of broth and continue simmering until absorbed, 10 minutes. Add the remaining 1/2 cup of broth and simmer until the lentils are tender and suspended in a bit of a sauce, 10 minutes longer. Season with freshly ground black pepper. -Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toss asparagus in olive oil, salt and pepper and roast on a rimmed baking sheet until tender, about 7-10 minutes. -In a large nonstick skillet, heat a thin film of extra-virgin olive oil. Crack the eggs into the skillet, season with salt and more ground turmeric if desired, and cook over moderately high heat until the edges are golden and the whites are just set. -Place leaves of kale in the bottoms of two shallow bowls. Top with lentils, asparagus, then a fried egg. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar and sprinkle with shaved Parmesan cheese, if desired. Serve immediately.