By the time Christmas comes along, I've had my share of cookies, pies and late-night sweets. More than my share, in fact. I usually give baked goods away, but then I made an amazing batch of cookies, froze the dough, and proceeded to eat a cookie (or two) for dessert every night for a week. (No complaints from Andrew, mind you.) Then there was the caramel pie I ate for dinner once. Chocolate cookies. Cookies with ice cream. Cake. Sugar. Butter. Flour....

Between cookie exchange parties, baking for school and office parties and whipping up dessert for yourself or gifts for neighbors, there are many sweets vying for your attention this season. These cookies are not frosted, painted, or rolled in sugar, but they are the best chocolate chip cookies I've had, so that's worth something, I think.

I was always skeptical of these 24-hour cookie recipes. Who wants to wait that long to eat a cookie? Beyond the time commitment, there are two types of flours, neither of which are all-purpose, so that might seem inconvenient unless you happen to have them in the pantry. Andrew and I did a little quality control just to be sure this cookie was worth everything it claimed. We baked two cookies from the freshly made dough, and chilled the rest as instructed. They were good, but the next day's batch was exceptional.

The last time I made this dish was in 2008 after reading Molly Wizenberg's Bon Appetit column. I posted a lone photograph with a link, and offered very little insight into the finished dish. It was time to revisit one of my favorite, long lost appetizers.

When two friends came over for dinner earlier this month, pumpkin risotto was on the menu, but I also wanted to make something that could serve a dual purpose of appetizer and entree side dish, should anyone need to munch on something after licking their risotto bowl clean.

Last year I read Melissa Clark's cookbook cover to cover and marked with red tabs all the recipes I wanted to try. Among them was this cornbread. Not just any cornbread, but nutty, brown butter cornbread flecked with tender corn kernels. It sounded irresistible, and it only took me a year to finally make it.

We had a friend over for dinner recently and I made a vegetarian version of this beef chili. Since chili isn't complete without cornbread, I finally had an opportunity to try this recipe, and I might be done looking, actually. When you combine our internet searches, cookbooks, magazine subscriptions and food blog browsing, you sometimes don't know where to start when it comes to deciding what to cook, or which recipe to use for a particular dish. It's very easy to become overwhelmed with the amount of recipes there are in the universe.

The color of buckwheat flour has tinges of gray, so when you're mixing the flours with the wet ingredients, your bowl appears to be filled with asphalt instead of batter. It's sort of beautiful in that way and made me think of all those initials and dates you see etched into the sidewalk where people waited patiently for the asphalt to dry just enough before they could carve their name into the road with a stick.

These waffles make an exceptional breakfast. With little sugar (only a tablespoon of honey) and only whole wheat flours, you're in for a healthy morning. One of the problems with traditional pancakes and waffles made with white flour is they are don't sustain me and less than an hour after finishing my meal, I'm usually hungry. And when I'm hungry, I'm cranky, so you can see how this is just a downward spiral, but these waffles have enough fiber and other goodies to keep me full for several hours.

Very early in our marriage, Andrew was working late one night so I made myself stuffed peppers for dinner. No big deal, right? At the time, he was disappointed he was to have missed out on something that sounded so scrumptious. It was completely adorable, actually. We've shared plenty of memorable meals in the six years that have followed, but I always have a little chuckle thinking about it so many years later. Of course, the memory surfaces whenever I consider adding stuffed peppers to our weekly menu, and I thought about it while making the pesto and sauteeing the zucchini this time around, too.

I like cooking again. Thank goodness. It took a couple of months to adjust to having Emma around, but I think we're starting to understand each other. I've discussed this before, but after bringing her home in September, dinner lost a bit of its lustre. Sandwiches, breadcrumb pasta, ramen. Whatever took the least amount of time and didn't have to be eaten at any particular temperature. I'm still not preparing anything lavish, but we're working our way back.

I recently undertook the enormous challenge of cleaning out my pantry. I found dried cranberries from 2009, hazelnuts likely from the same year and a box of Sprinkles red velvet cupcake mix someone had given me. I also discovered exactly 1/2 cup of black rice stashed away in a plastic bag hiding underneath said hazelnuts.

If I hadn't cleaned out my pantry this past weekend, I wouldn't have made this lovely salad. It's everything a fall salad should be: warm, crunchy, bright and hearty. I couldn't stop eating it, and I'm sure I'll make it many more times this season. I've been really inspired by all the beautiful Thanksgiving side dishes in magazines and on my favorite blogs this year. There's a lot to be said for well prepared, thoughtful ingredients that bring just the right amount of cozy to a winter afternoon.

If you were hanging around the food blogosphere or Twitter universe anytime in October, you may have noticed fellow bloggers committing to eat unprocessed for 31 days. While I didn't participate in the movement officially (roughly 97% of my diet is already unprocessed), it happened to coincide with the week that I ran out of cereal.

Cereal is the one processed food I've never wanted to give up. I love it too much. It's crunchy, slightly sweet and pairs beautifully with milk. I even switched to almond milk on a whim this summer, which made me feel even better about my cereal habit. I used to eat the sugary stuff, like Frosted Flakes and Frosted Mini-Wheats, then gradually reduced the sweetness with Honey Nut Cheerios and finally, Multi-Grain Cheerios, which I found to be perfectly wholesome (you know, minus the corn, additives and ingredients I can't pronounce). I bought the giant pack at Costco that lasted me a month and savored my bowl every morning, and sometimes in the afternoon as a pre-dinner snack if I knew we'd be eating later. I really didn't think I could go without it.

I used to be one of those people that was adamant about my dislike for dill. It just wasn't my herb. Ina Garten had a phase where she added it to just about everything and I always omitted it because on the few occasions I did try it, something didn't sit well with my palate. But I've evolved. I won't go so far as to say it's my favorite herb, or even my second favorite, but I can certainly appreciate its unique qualities. It was featured front and center in this salad by Cook Your Dream. Because the original recipe looked so beautiful, I decided to use the dill. I winced for a moment when tasting the dressing, but when the sour note hit my tongue, I rather enjoyed the pickled flavor. Then I imagined it smothered on boiled potatoes and smoked salmon and realized it would be alright.

My evenings have changed a bit. Ever since welcoming an almost three-month-old puppy into our home, dinner has become less of a special event and more of a chore to fit in between taking Emma outside and keeping her occupied with chew toys. We still enjoy our meals, but they're often interrupted.

As the name of my blog expresses, I advocate for easy home cooking every night of the week, a philosophy even more important now that my time is more limited. Easy, quick cooking recipes are essential for most of us, which is why I was so happy to see this dish on Ashley's blog a few weeks ago.

The November issue of Food & Wine stopped me in my tracks last week. First, there was a turkey on the cover, reminding me that Thanksgiving (and all the good food that goes along with it) is fast approaching. Second, there were so many recipes I wanted to try, I must have dog-eared every other page.

Because I wanted to make these cookies so desperately, I was thrilled to find exactly 1/2 cup of cocoa powder left in my tin. It was meant to be. And although Dorie calls these cocktail cookies (and they certainly could be), I like the idea of savoring them for dessert alongside the last sips of red wine.

I imagine we all have moments where our cooking acumen is tested, when we are forced to rely on instinct and practice instead of recipes from trusty blogs or cookbooks. This is where I stood one Sunday afternoon. We were a week into house training the dog, somewhat ragged, and had a friend coming over for dinner. I had already planned the weekend's meals but when I made the Hungarian goulash I wanted to serve, it wasn't quite right, and I'm not fond of serving guests anything I'm not extremely certain about, so I saved it for dinner the following night. 

What, then, would I serve for dinner? Walking to Chipotle or our neighborhood sushi restaurant crossed my mind (the easy way out), but then Andrew reminded me I had bought shrimp for something later in the week, and in preparation I had just cooked the beans, so the decision was almost made. Except for the inconsequential detail that I had no recipe.

More figs! I knew this appetizer would elicit some excitement, but I didn't expect five bees to fly straight into my kitchen as I simmered the honey on the stove. They entered through the laundry room where a window was cracked open. After gently nudging them back outside (I had rushed to close the kitchen door and hid out in the living room), Andrew went outside to see if he could find a hive. Nothing visible, at least, but they certainly were tempted by the sweet nectar that I was warming up.

I realized it had been too long since I baked anything and was itching to pull a warm cake out of the oven. My only obstacle was trying to determine just what exactly it was I needed to make. There are always so many choices when it comes to things like this and unfortunately, I want to bake something just wasn't specific enough. But then I saw figs, put them in my cart and strolled home.

The figs still didn't have a purpose just yet, but I had a feeling that once I opened Dorie Greenspan's Baking, their destiny would be sealed. I searched the index, flipped to page 192 and a gorgeous fig and cornmeal cake appeared. This really was the perfect cake to welcome fall. It was also one of the last things I made before our lives changed for the better when we brought home our new puppy, Emma, on September 23rd, which just so happened to be the first day of this new season.

My go-to meal in college was canned tuna with a light dollop of mayo and lots of freshly cracked black pepper. I ate this on saltine crackers or toasted bread, and it still remains a very simple way to eat lunch if I just can't muster the energy for anything else.

Canned fish has always been a mystery, though. Where is it sourced? Which brand is best? Do sardines from Morocco really taste better than sardines from Mexico? And speaking of sardines, since I haven't had any luck convincing Andrew they're delicious, I thought I'd try something new: canned salmon.

Ever since I returned from Nepal I've been desperately craving fall comfort food. It was still hovering around 80 degrees in Los Angeles at the end of August but that didn't stop me from daydreaming about braises, stews and mac and cheese. That cozy time of year is approaching and my body just wanted to let me know where it stood.

The first chance I got, I roasted vegetables. It happened last year around this time that I made the first soup of the season, ushering in the cooler weather, holidays that will be here before we know it and warm, soul-soothing dishes. I was actually alone in my kitchen, smiling a little just at the thought of it. Also, the carrots and onions smelled intoxicatingly good after spending just a few minutes in the oven. What can I say, I love fall.

Picnics might be one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon. There's something so relaxing about being outside, sitting on the beach or under a tree, nibbling on cheese, crackers, and a fresh salad like this. It's almost criminal not to take it somewhere. Of course, that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it at your dinner table, but it's really well suited for travel.

Let's take a moment to marvel at the wonders of Twitter. In about five minutes on any given day I can get restaurant recommendations, sight seeing options for the town I'm driving through, or in this case, recipe ideas from friends in the vast Twitter universe. This is the world we live in.

A couple of weeks ago I found out my in-laws would be driving through LA and planned to stop by after dinner. When visitors come, it's nice to serve them a little something sweet, don't you think? But I had some dietary restrictions to consider, namely, how to devise a delicious, no-sugar dessert.

Bastille Day 2011 happened to fall on the same day as my office book club, so I couldn't let the French holiday pass without baking something appropriate to celebrate. But the night I baked this, I wasn't in blog mode. My camera was in another room and the sun was setting, but when I pulled the sheet pan out of the oven I had to change course. It was too beautiful not to tell you about.