Wrapping Up and Up Next

My favorite recipe that I cooked from Meatless is the first recipe that I cooked from Meatless: Maltagliatti with Marinated Heirloom Tomatoes. Looking back, most of the recipes that I liked best were Italian-inspired--either pasta, or simple preparations of standard Italian vegetables (primarily zucchini and tomatoes). Recipes that wandered into any other ethnic realm fell flat from lack of spice. Call me crazy, but if I'm eating Indian food, I want it to taste like Indian food, not like dirt.

I don't feel a ton of excitement when thinking back upon the food I cooked from this book. Stats are only slightly in favor of the Liked it/Loved it camp (8/2) over the Hated It/Disliked/Just Okay camp (3/1/4). A nearly 50% disappointment rate is substantial, however, I'm going to consider Meatless to be a keeper, because I'm always on the prowl for different ways to prepare vegetables. It's definitely not a must-buy, though.

It's occurred to me that I haven't actually gotten rid of a book in quite a while (though I'm tempted to ditch Rachael Ray's Big Orange Book without actually testing it. That seems wrong, though, and so it sits on my shelf, because I can't bear the thought of devoting to it.) It's high time that I cover a book that may well suck, so I've chosen a book that I bought over a decade ago, and have never cooked from: Rome, by Williams Sonoma.

Another reason I want to cook from Rome is because I have more Italian cookbooks than any other ethnicity, and I wouldn't mind thinning them out to make room for other stuff. The problem is, Italian food is just so damn good, unless the recipes veer wildly off course, I can't imagine I won't like them.

A large chunk of Rome is text and photos talking about the city and the food/style of eating, so it's a pretty small, manageable set of recipes to cook from. Let's see how they hold up...

Salt Can Be Good or Bad

I was so intrigued by the weirdness of Vodka-Marinated Steak (pg 212 of Feast), that I had to make it. The fact that it's a simple recipe didn't hurt. I used a london broil, which cooked nicely in the timeline Nigella specifies. The steak is supposed to marinate for a few days in vodka, salt, peppercorns, parsley, thyme, garlic, and oil. I only did it for a few hours. Sear both sides, then cook on low heat, covered, for 3 minutes per side. Let it sit in foil for 15 minutes. My 15 minutes turned into 45, because I was waiting for Matt to get home from work, so it was on the cool side by the time we ate it. Still good. While the steak rests, use the marinade and some beef stock to deglaze the pan. Add steak drippings that have collected, whisk in some butter, and serve.

The steak turned out to be nicely salted. There wasn't a lot of other flavor, but that's  not really a complaint. It was the exact right amount of saltiness to make the beef delicious. It was tender and pinker than I expected it to be after such a long sit.

Conclusion: Liked it. Easiest cooking, for the biggest reward, that I've done in a while. I'd like to allow this to marinate for the recommended three days and see what impact that has, because Nigella says it "makes a really big difference."

I think my breadcrumb to tomato ratio is off.

I realized, pretty late in the game yesterday, that I had no vegetable planned for dinner, and no vegetables in the house, apart from our last crop of tomatoes of the season. I flipped to Meatless' index, and landed on Tomatoes Provencal (pg 328), because it was easy, with basic ingredients. All you do is slice tomatoes, overlap them in a baking vessel, then sprinkle a breadcrumb/parmigiano reggiano/thyme/salt/oil mixture on top, then bake.

This smelled unbelievable while it was in the oven. It tasted good, but I'd added too much salt. I hate when recipes don't specify an amount of salt. I always add more than I should.

Conclusion: Liked it. It's a good "ack! I forgot a veggie!" dish to keep in mind. If you have tomatoes, you probably have everything else you need, too.

Meatless: White-Cheddar Corn Chowder

Were I left to my own devices, White-Cheddar Corn Chowder (pg 117 of Meatless) would have been fairly easy and quick to make. I think. Can't be certain, though, because my son interrupted me so many times that the process dragged into eternity. It was one of those situations that makes you feel like a jerk for being aggravated, because he was being creative and really just wanted me to play with him. Over the course of my cooking, he discovered a piece of soft cardboard that was destined for trash, and decided to build a barnyard (I think he meant a pen). He was getting frustrated that the ends wouldn't stay put (like a circular fence). Taping, re-taping, re-re-taping, helping find his animal toys, marveling at the glory he had built, were just a few of the distractions that turned this chowder into a two hour process. Not the chowder's fault that it took so long, but I was hoping it would have more flavor. It's spiced with coriander, cumin, and cayenne, but you'd never know they were in there.

Other than those spices, the rest of the soup is pretty standard. Celery, onion, potatoes, milk, wine, corn. Two cups of the nearly-finished soup are blended, then poured back in. Cheese is added to the individual bowls.

I felt indifferent to this soup. It wasn't bad, but it didn't have a lot of flavor. The more cheese I loaded on top, the better it became. All that tells you is that I like cheese.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Never Had A Potato I Didn't Like

Grilled Potatoes with Garlic-Herb Oil (pg 313) were simple to prepare (despite the two-part cooking process) and mighty tasty. First, parboil the potatoes, then grill them for two minutes per side, until charred. If you're already planning to grill some meat for dinner, this hardly counts as an extra step. Once cooked, toss them with oil, garlic, and, according to Martha, parsley. According to me, rosemary, because that's what I had.

Conclusion: Liked it. Smokey, charred, grilled flavor makes everything better, right?

Sorry about the ghastly photo.

Unfortunately, I paired this with Mashed Carrots with Honey and Chili Powder (pg 355). Nasty. I couldn't get the carrots to mash into a nice smooth texture, despite the fact that they'd been cut up small and steamed for 25 minutes. They were watery, in flavor and mouth-feel, and the honey and chili powder only enhanced how flavorless the carrots were. No me gusta.

Conclusion: Hated it. The tiny glob you see in the picture was portioned as such because I'd already tasted it. I couldn't even make myself eat that little bit. Yick.

Lentils

One of the dishes that first caught my eye when I flipped through Meatless is an intriguing twist on a very familiar dish: Lentil and Cashew Hummus (pg 19). In this version, chickpeas are replaced with lentils, and tahini is replaced with cashew butter. Cashew butter is fricken delicious, if you've never tried it. Find it. Eat it. Send me presents to thank me. Apart from the two key elements, everything else is the same as normal hummus: lemon juice, garlic, a splash of hot sauce, salt, and olive oil.

Maybe I expected too much from the cashew butter. I thought this would be sweeter and a bit more luscious. Honestly, if no one told me that it wasn't normal hummus, I would assume it was just a bland rendition of the chickpeas and tahini classic. It's not bad, but it seems like a waste of good cashew butter.

That said, CHARLIE LIKES IT. Whaaaaaat?? Kid won't eat normal hummus. Guess he's down with bland, as long as it comes on a pita chip.

Conclusion: Liked it well enough, but I prefer normal hummus. I guess I'll call this one a "Just Okay," since I'll never make it again.

Dinner tonight was Lentil and Sweet Potato Stew (pg 121). I added ground beef, because I knew this wouldn't fill Matt up, as written. Unfortunately, I wasn't working with the greatest sweet potatoes. They're not a local product, so I had to buy mine at the Commissary, which has terrible produce. God knows how old these were. I could tell as soon as I sliced them, and they were ringed with pale bands, that they wouldn't be the tastiest sweet potatoes ever. Once the stew was finished, my suspicions were confirmed. The sweet potatoes had no sweet potato flavor. I assume that greatly detracted from this recipe.

The stew is a good starting point. The only spice is one bay leaf and 1.5 teaspoons of curry powder. It needs more...something. I don't know what. I would make this again and play with it. Preferably with fresher sweet potatoes. And LOTS more spice.

Conclusion: Like it, with reservations. I really think good sweet potatoes would make a huge difference.

Sorry, Ricotta

Herbed Ricotta Souffle (pg 180 of Meatless) sounded like a suitably jazzy way to use up the remainder of my ricotta, but it didn't turn out as nicely as I'd hoped. The texture was weird. Kind of spongey, and it tasted way too salty. Matt said that if he were blindfolded, he'd have guessed that he was eating weisswurst (or however you spell that German white sausage.) That doesn't speak well for a souffle, does it? It didn't taste bad, but I wouldn't go out of my way to buy the ingredients to make this. If I had a heap of leftover ricotta, I'd make this again rather than allowing the cheese to go to waste. It needs more herbs and less salt, though.

My souffle dish was too big. Woops.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Last week, I also made Zucchini and Feta Chopped Salad (pg 319). It's impossible to come by fresh dill around here (and my efforts to grow it failed miserably), but I don't think that dill would have saved this recipe. It's basically just raw cubed zucchini mixed up with crumbled feta, some lemon, and olive oil. It tasted like raw zucchini and feta. Boring.

Conclusion: Just okay. Doubt I'd ever make it again. Something as a simple as grilling the zucchini would have made this more delicious.

Cheese, Glorious Cheese

I compulsively bought fresh ricotta at the salumeria when I was in town this weekend, even though I had no real plan for it. The ricotta here is sweet and creamy and a totally different product from Polly-o or, God forbid, Sargento (why is it always sour, with the consistency of clay??), back in the states. I was so fed up with the state of available ricotta when we were stationed in Texas that I started making my own. It was better than Sargento, but nowhere near as good as what they sell here in Italy. The kind I made still turned out kind of gritty, and it smelled like the vinegar I used to separate the milk. It didn't taste like vinegar, but it did smell of it. Point is, I'm fully aware that these three years will be my Golden Age of Ricotta, and it will never be this good again. So now I'm trying to find recipes that will use my little block of splendor, because it would be a sin against all that is good in the world to allow this cheese to spoil in my fridge (it doesn't have a long shelf life.)

I threw together No-Bake Lasagna with Ricotta and Tomatoes (pg 289) for dinner last night. As an added bonus, this used up a box of no-boil lasagne noodles that's been in my cabinet since last Christmas. If you've ever wondered if you can boil no-boil lasagna noodles, the answer is yes. They would have stuck together if I hadn't immediately moved them from the water to the sauce, but otherwise they were fine.

Lasagne is sacred food in my house. We had it once a year, at Christmas, and my Dad would spend the whole day and evening on Christmas Eve stirring that pot of sauce, skimming sausage and meatball grease off the top, periodically bellowing, "Never again, Margaret! Never again!" Every year. Now that he's gone, lasagne has become my Christmas ritual.

I didn't expect this free-form version of lasagne to compete with the real deal, but I hadn't quite realized how firmly I believe that lasagne is more than its individual components. Lasagne is lasagne because of the layers, the denseness, and the merging of cheese with sauce with meat, not because you happen to use a noodle that defines itself as lasagne. I think of this more as a pasta dish, and not as lasagne. It's not lasagne. It is, however, delicious.

The sauce is quick and easy, and I'd happily eat a big bowl of pasta with just the sauce if I had no cheese. Brown thin-sliced garlic in oil. Throw in a heap of halved cherry tomatoes. After they're soft, add stock and simmer. I totally overlooked the fact that the tomatoes were supposed to go in in two separate batches, presumably so that some would mush and some would remain firm. I dumped all of mine in at once. No harm done. Add pasta and basil to the sauce, plate, dollop with ricotta and shaved Romano cheese. I also added mozzarella, because what's a lasagne without mozzarella? Lesser, that's what.

Conclusion: Liked it. The sauce was really sweet and delicious. If you have garlic and some tomatoes, you can make this. No real shock, but Charlie DID eat his noodles and the cheese after carefully picking off each and every bit of basil. No tomatoes, but that also was not a surprise. He did pluck a raw tomato out of my fruit basket and eat it, unprompted, the other day. He only ate the one, but he didn't spit it out (or if he did, I haven't found it yet) or lick my leg to scrape the skin off of his tongue, so that gives me hope for the future.

Furthering my quest to use my ricotta, I had Fresh Ricotta with Lemon, Basil, and Honey Bruschetta (pg 63) for breakfast today. This is as easy as it comes. Mix lemon zest with ricotta. Smear on toast. Top with basil and a honey drizzle. I used whole wheat bread, because I didn't have anything more bruschetta-ey, but that's okay.

Mmmm...maybe you'll be my lunch, too.

Basil and honey is a delicious flavor combo. Who knew? The ricotta and lemon provided a very subtle background flavor. All in all, this was tasty and satisfying. I can't imagine eating it as a "starter for a larger meal," as Martha indicates. It screamed, "Breakfast!" to me. Or, it could also pass as an afternoon snack.

Conclusion: Liked it.

An Italian Plate of Joy

I tramped through my orchard, across a field, down a little road, and onto the main drag of my little town here to go buy some produce at my favorite fruit and vegetable guy, who unfortunately, is in a location with little parking (to this American. Italians pull right up onto the sidewalk and triple park in the road. I can't bring myself to do it.) If I want to shop from him, I need to hike it. He's my favorite because he always smiles when he sees me, and seems pleasantly amused by my butchery of his language. He also doesn't complain if I pay with a larger bill. I mean like a 20. I've had other fruit stands turn me away when I try to pay with a 20, or even a 10. He's never given me attitude. Also, when I say, "Come si dice.....?" and point, he tells me what things are called. Not to mention that his fruit is always delicious. I've never felt like he's trying to pull one over on me. It's worth the hike.

While I was at it, I stopped off at the salumeria and picked up prosciutto, fresh ricotta, and two balls of mozzarella di bufala. When I got back to my house, I found a pile of honey-sweet white figs that one of my neighbors (aka The Fruit Fairy) had left on my patio table for us.

I flipped through Meatless and saw that I'd be able to throw Zucchini "Pasta" with Tomatoes and Walnuts (pg 32) together without any trouble. Halve cherry tomatoes, and let them marinate for twenty minutes in olive oil, sliced garlic, chopped walnuts, and torn basil. (As a side note, Italians, and, apparently, Martha Stewart, are adamant that you must never take a knife to your basil, because you will bruise it. I'm unconvinced that it makes a difference, taste-wise, yet I find myself only tearing basil these days. If the Italians do it, that's a good enough reason for me).

After twenty minutes, mix in long skinny strips of zucchini. The picture in the book shows the zucchini looking like spaghetti. I must not have gone thin enough for that. Mine weren't bendy. Regardless, this salad was delicious. I was afraid the raw garlic would be too aggressive, but after it soaked with the rest of the ingredients, the flavor was evenly disbursed, and I never thought "Wow, that was a mouthful of raw garlic."

I should eat like this every day.

This lunch made me extremely happy. The only thing missing was a cold glass of Prosecco.

Conclusion: Loved it. The simple preparation made each ingredient taste even more like itself, if that makes sense.

Tangy

The Chilled Avocado Soup (pg 109) from Meatless suffers from the very description which initially interested me in the recipe: that it is "tangy with buttermilk." All you do to make this cold soup is whir avocado, walnuts, buttermilk, red onion, dill, vinegar, and salt in a blender. I just bought myself a new blender, so my desire to give it a go also attracted me to this soup.

Whatever else, I like the color.

It tastes like dip. If this was touted as a veggie dip, I might like it. As a soup, it's unbearable after a few spoonfuls. It has the thick texture and a buttermilk tang of ranch dip.

Conclusion: Dislike, as soup. I may dip some carrots in it with lunch tomorrow and see if that improves matters.

The other night I made Broiled Zucchini with Yogurt Sauce (pg 327) to go with the Indian Spiced Lamb Chops from Nigella Kitchen. I only mention its accompaniment because those lamb chops were awesome, and you should go make them. Anyway, this one was pretty straightforward. We often grill zucchini on the BBQ during the summer, and did so here instead of broiling. The yogurt sauce was spiced with coriander, ground mustard, and lemon juice, and it complemented the lamb nicely. It was a good little alteration on a standard recipe, and I can see myself making this one again.

Not a looker, but it tasted pretty good.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Indianish

Perhaps I should have known better, but I didn't.

Last night I made two dishes from Meatless that seemed like they'd go together: Spiced Tofu with Wilted Spinach and Yogurt (aka Saag Paneer, pg 97) and Stewed Lentils (without yogurt and cucumbers) (aka daal, pg 114). Two of my absolute favorite thinks in the world are saag and daal.

Martha's version of saag includes tofu. I've never had any luck preparing tofu, and this dish was especially horrid. First of all, the tofu is not spiced, as the title would have you believe. Your fry it in a bit of oil, then sprinkle it with salt. I guess technically, salt is a spice, but not really. The tofu is added to the spinach and yogurt mixture, which is grossly underspiced. I ate my serving, but I didn't like it. Matt took one bite, spit it out, and reheated a 4 day old burger patty. That's how bad it was, even after I dumped extra spice in an attempt to rescue it.

Conclusion: Hated it.

Awful. So awful.

The daal was better, but not much. As written, this, too, was unbelievably bland. I added some ghee, because ghee makes everything better, and then dumped in a butt-load of extra spices. In the end, the daal turned out to be edible, and I'll probably work through the copious leftovers, but I will never make this recipe again.

Conclusion: Hated it (as written).

I'm sorry, Madhur Jaffrey. Next time I want Indian, I'll take the time to do it the right way. Your way.

Gigante Enough For Me

I took a few liberties with Martha Stewart's recipe for Gigante Beans with Feta and Greens (pg 52 of Meatless). More than a few. As with Ottolenghi, I feel she would not approve. In fact, I'm fairly certain of it. My dad worked with her on occasion. There are celebrities that were surprisingly nice, and treat the "little people" like they're human. For the record, Dad was very impressed with Chris Rock, who went out of his way to talk to everyone working on his show. He was not impressed with Martha. I'll leave it at that, though the stories are fairly hilarious. Anyway, I've been partially programmed to find her ridiculous, so I'm impressed with myself for buying Meatless at all. What's my point? Oh yeah. I'm confident she wouldn't appreciate the shortcuts I took with her recipe.

My first problem was that it uses gigante beans. I know I've eaten them in Greek restaurants, but unless they're called something else and I don't know it, I've never noticed them in a store. Second problem is that she says to use dry beans. Uh uh. Not boiling beans for 45 minutes when it's 95 degrees out. Not happening. No way, no how. So I bought these...

Do Spaniards use gigante beans? These beans were pretty gigantic, whether or not they were the correct bean. They look exactly like the picture in the book. Beats me.

Reading the recipe, I instantly knew that I was not going to be blanching and peeling tomatoes. Especially because I had small tomatoes. Nope, nope, nope. Not doing it. I don't mind tomato peel in something like this. It's not like I'm making a silky-smooth puree. Sorry, Martha.

This may shock you, but my supermarket doesn't sell dandelion greens. Skinned rabbits, yes. Dandelion greens, no. I used spinach.

This is supposed to be topped with feta and dill. I haven't been able to find dill here (and my attempt to grow it myself failed miserably), and I omitted the feta for calorie purposes, because it tasted plenty delicious on its own. 

The beans themselves absorbed a lot of tomato and garlic flavor. I approve.

Conclusion: Liked it, even if it doesn't meet the expected standards.

A Million Recipes for the Same Thing

I don't know why I always seem to gravitate toward chickpea salads. They all turn out basically the same, and yet I continually test recipes for them, even though they aren't even one of my favorite things to eat. I think I make them because they use so many vegetables, and that makes me feel virtuous, even when served alongside a rack of ribs and assorted other not-good-for-you dishes, as it was this weekend at a BBQ we hosted.

Mediterranean Chickpea Salad (pg 15 of Meatless) was essentially the same chickpea salad as any other. One slight difference is that the chickpeas are left to sit for an hour in a mixture of garlic paste, pepper, olive oil, vinegar, and oregano. I'm not sure that this step really contributed much to the overall flavor of the dish. After the hour, the chickpeas are tossed together with tomatoes, cucumber, green pepper, carrots, scallions, parsley, and basil.

I have nothing fresh or exciting to report about it. It was fine.

There was one lone kidney bean in my can of chickpeas. Weird. 

Conclusion: Liked it, in the way I like all chickpea salads. 

Meatless: (Some Crazy Blue Pasta) with Marinated (Non) Heirloom Tomatoes

It's been hot as balls in my apartment since I returned from the states. Of course, the AC in my bedroom was working before Matt joined me in NY, but was blowing hot air once we returned. Not that it's relevant, but while we were gone, our kitchen cabinet fell out of the wall and into our sink, showering the room with glass. Three cheers for Fiestaware, which never breaks, no matter what ridiculous situation comes its way! Booo for Pyrex!

Yesterday, Matt told me that his office was putting together a care package for our buddy, who is deployed to Afghanistan. Matt asked me to bake chocolate chip cookies.

A care package to Afghanistan is the only reason in the world I'd happily and willingly turn my oven on today, so while the AC repairman was here replacing my old unit, I baked. It was still 95 degrees today, but at least there's been a steady breeze, which is more than I can say for the past few days.

Point is, I was not willing to cook much for dinner.

Maltagliati with Marinated Heirloom Tomatoes (pg 274 of Meatless) fit the bill, because I already had all the ingredients in my kitchen (thanks for the tomatoes, Amy!), and because the stove was only used to boil pasta and to slowly brown thin-sliced garlic in a heap of olive oil for ten minutes.

While the water is boiling, sliced tomatoes are left to marinate for a half hour in a mixture of lots of basil (1/4 cup), capers, lemon zest, red pepper flakes, salt, the garlic chips, and garlic-infused oil. Add the pasta, then stir in another 1/2 cup of basil.

This took a lot of basil. I would have destroyed my plant if I tried to cut 3/4 cup worth off of it, so I just trimmed as much as I was comfortable with and used that.

The recipe calls for maltagliatti, which I've never heard of, but appears, from the picture, to be a very wide, flat noodle. Very wide. I've learned, since living in Naples, that Italians are very strict about what pasta you eat with what sauce. There are rules, man. I, unfortunately (or fortunately. Does it really make a difference, most of the time?) don't know the rules, and so I had no qualms flouting Martha Stewart's pasta recommendation and just using what I had, which happened to be a blue and black farfalle. I bought it because it was blue. You know you would have done the same. The use of the blue pasta was also strategic. Charlie has been refusing dinner since we returned from NY, which means that he's deciding he's hungry at bedtime, being impossible to put down, and then waking up a lot at night. I think his hunger kicks in after I turn the AC on in his bedroom. I can't blame him. I don't like to eat when I'm hot, either. Surely, I thought, if anything could lure him to the table, it would be blue pasta. The blue-ness did help get the food in his mouth. The promise of a chocolate chip cookie dessert if he finished is what kept him eating, though. Success! He did eat (though he spit out every tiny piece of basil that passed his lips), and he slept through the night! At least now I'm mostly certain that the reason he's waking up is because he's hungry, and he's not just trying to send me to the loony bin.

I loved this pasta dish. The flavors were all so light and tomato-complementary that it was refreshing. It was simple to make, and that counts for a lot. My favorite bites included the garlic chips. Those things were gooood. I'd use more garlic next time, just to have more chips. Also love that blue pasta. There's not enough blue food in the world.

Matt grunted, "I like this. Really good." He proceeded to eat the entirety of what remained (commenting upon the absence of meat). Later, he asked me if there were leftovers. Uhhh...no. You ate them all. Remember? Regardless, ringing endoresements, all around.

Conclusion: Loved it.

Up Next: Meatless

I'm back from New York, and soooo glad to be back in my own kitchen. It's tricky cooking in someone else's house, even if that someone else is your own mom. I spent 20 minutes searching the cabinets and pantry over and over for vanilla. Eventually I found it in the refrigerator. Like I said, tricky. I cooked a few recipes from her copy of Barefoot Contessa: Foolproof while I was there, but not enough to warrant a real trial of the book. For what it's worth, I'm not running out to buy my own copy anytime soon. Many recipes are for meats that are too expensive to make on a regular basis. It is a book for entertaining, so I get that, but I'd go broke if I really tried to cook out of it consistently for a chunk of time. On the flipside, there were a lot of other recipes that were pretty uninspired. Roasted kale. Spinach with feta. Hard stuff to get excited about. The couple of recipes I did make--I don't remember the actual recipe titles, but I made a mustard marinated steak, shrimp with fennel, and salmon with guacamole on top--came out fine, but weren't fantastic, and were not, in my opinion, good enough to serve company. Salmon with Guacamole is a remarkably tasty combo, so it scores points for that, and was mine and mom's top-rated dish of the bunch.

Anyway, I've returned to Naples to find that it's hot. Really hot. And electricity is too expensive, so AC during the day is not an option. Fortunately, I get a nice sea breeze during the day, so it's not too bad until I have to lock up the heavy metal security shutters at night. This place heats up fast when I turn the oven on. Now I understand why Italians take riposo from 1-3 (or 4, or 5, depending on who you're talking to), and don't start cooking until 7-8 pm. It's too stinkin' hot to cook.

Oven avoidance, merged with my overwhelming desire to eat as much of the beautiful produce as possible makes my next book a logical choice. An additional reason is that I wanted to cook from a book that I'm not certain is a winner. If the recipes suck, I need the space for the four books I bought in the US. I didn't plan to buy four. Whoops. Don't judge me--I haven't been in a bookstore in a year!

Drumroll please! My next book is....Meatless, by Martha Stewart.

I haven't cooked anything from the book yet. This could be good or bad. We'll see!