One of my favorite Ft. Greene restaurants, General Greene (their menu), creates the most beautiful red quinoa with walnuts, mint, and preserved lime. This is my version, with crunchy red quinoa, toasted walnuts, sautéed red cabbage, shaved slices of goat ricotta salata,

and preserved lemons I began a few months ago that provide twinkling bits of citrus throughout, the way through the middle of the week…

This morning, the sun shone on the tulips Maia brought over last night,

part of a beautiful weekend of friends that closed with dinner in my kitchen for my friends Maia (who lives in Amsterdam now) and Karen, both inspiring designers in their work and lives.

I roasted fractal cauliflower with turmeric, stirred in shallot rings and kumquats (F&W recipe),

sautéed apples, wilted spinach, toasted pine nuts, and macerated raisins,

listened to these two wise women (who will, I hope, forgive me for posting a picture that doesn’t do them justice),

and passed plates for red quinoa, pork tenderloin with fennel mustard, and roasted root vegetables (parsnip, sweet potato, purple carrots, onions) with goat ricotta salata.

It was a weekend of sparkle, from Karen and Maia to two banana cakes (one with walnuts, one without) from my new friend Dan of Renegade Kitchen,

that he made with palm sugar (he’s as thoughtful as that choice of sweetener) for my good friend Andrew’s birthday party on Saturday night.

Andrew (at left) invited friends over to help celebrate (note the unicorn piñata on the table from his friend Elaine), and the apartment filled with technologists, entrepreneurs, and people who love Boulder as much as he does.

For those who arrived early, Andrew chopped shrimp to place inside the avocado that I made a shallot dressing to top,

then there was pork with tart tomatillos for tacos,

along with chicken Andrew marinated with mangoes and habarenos,

that guests carefully assembled on warmed blue corn tortillas.

Earlier that afternoon, before the bonfire, the cutting of the cakes, my efforts to play a purple kazoo from the belly of the unicorn piñata (and an abbreviated road trip to Nederland, Colorado for Frozen Dead Guy Days), some of us hiked up to watch the sun set,

and I looked at the rock formations,

knowing that just as clearly as the stars appear in Boulder, spring will clear new paths…

Earlier last week, the snow began, coating the tree outside my windows and, the next day, melting in time for a dinner party while my lovely friends Catherine and Keryn were in town, a great excuse to gather everyone on Saturday night and cook.

And after trips to the market (and to the crowded foodgeek event Foodprint City NYC), Catherine, Solana, and Keryn began making gnocchi,

turning baked sweet potatoes from this,

into these (aren’t they beautiful? It’s this Gourmet recipe.)

More guests arrived, Eva with her arms full of tulips,

and Solana and I cooked the soft gnocchi, crisping them a bit in a pan with butter and grating Parmesan on top before passing small plates to share.

Candy-hued chairs from the Brooklyn Flea, pulled around the little table that could, held friends that passed roasted brussel sprouts (Keryn’s handiwork) and fractal cauliflower, savory leek bread pudding, then Ad Hoc’s garlic-brined pork tenderloin with fennel mustard—and the smashed potatoes I almost forgot in the oven.

It was a second Thanksgiving, really, one to send winter off with warm food in bowls for seconds and thirds. I think I am happiest when my kitchen is crowded, full of loud laughter, and, ah,

flashed hand signals (Revaz to a skeptical Noah),

ice inspectors like Mario (these are space invaders),

and salted butterscotch pudding appreciators like Keryn and Liza.

The energy filled the kitchen and then moved out into the night, toward a dance club and more laughing—I hope Catherine will make return visits, to see Keryn more often (I’m going to Maine in April), that these friends will circle my table again and again, and that Brooklyn continues to amaze…

Last weekend, I discovered ShungiKu greens at Evolutionary Organics in Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza greenmarket, and I felt a curious sense of triumph to know that chrysanthemum greens are, in fact, floral and edible (I claimed this at five to my skeptical parents who did not appreciate my gastronomical tests on a bouquet destined for a ballet dancer that night).

And last night, the ShungiKu topped a savory sweet potato pie with andouille sausage (if I hadn’t eaten all the Macoun apples, I would have cut them into matchsticks to toss with a buttermilk dressing on the side).

Based on a Food and Wine recipe, here’s a way to make sweet potatoes savory: Heat the oven to 350° F. Bake 1 1/2 pounds of sweet potatoes for an hour in foil. Let cool. Make your favorite pie crust recipe (I’m loyal to Rose’s) and bake blind for thirty minutes in a 9-inch pie pan.

In a large pan, turn to medium-high, add a little oil, add 1/2 pound of cooked andouille sausage, cut into coins and then quartered and cook 3 min. Add one chopped onion, cook until translucent. Take off heat, add 1 clove raw minced garlic. Peel sweet potatoes and add to food processor, process into a puree; add 1/2 cup of heavy cream and process. Add three egg yolks, one at a time. Stir in andouille mixture and spoon into crust. Bake for an hour, until very set. Cool slightly. Serve with salad, or apple slaw over salad.

This also makes a nice brunch and would, I think, be a welcome addition to a holiday spread (especially for those who aren’t that into dessert).

As the rain fell this morning, I rose and made the breakfast sandwich I’d dreamt of: a warm croissant, scrambled eggs from Saturday’s market, New York cheddar, and pork jowl (I prefer it to bacon right now).

The wonderful thing about cooking is that you can, truly, realize dreamy foods—and these ingredients are useful staples to have on hand.

To keep the sandwich warm, I begin by placing the croissant in the oven at about 300 degrees on a plate, cooking the pork in a pan, slicing a few thin slices of cheese, and scrambling the eggs in the rendered pork fat in the pan. Turn off the oven, take the croissant out (leave the plate in), cut a pocket in the croissant, place the pork, then the eggs, cheese, and season. Put the sandwich back in the oven on the plate for a few minutes to melt the cheese.

Like a few extra moments of warmth under winter blankets, an inspiring breakfast sandwich will carry you through a drizzly day…