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…

This morning, I pulled a chair into the sun streaming through the kitchen windows, tearing apart the layers of a warmed croissant from Balthazar. Equally comforting, tonight, I made Orangette’s cream-braised brussel sprouts,

These taste a bit like braised artichoke hearts without the bother of peeling baby artichokes, and the soft brussel sprouts fall into layers like that croissant, napped in cream, an excellent side for those of you (Rosie and Faris) into the British tradition of Sunday roasts and new ways to cook sprouts. I like mine colorful, but the original recipe will lead you to paler brussel quarters.

Sprouts are a different sort of traditional fare than last night’s costumed outing for a Tulsa theme party—Solana and Eva acquiesced to another caliber of beer and embraced neon jewelry and denim,

and I pulled out the white leather for an event that screened “Rumblefish” and lasted until three in the morning, featured a wonderful venison chili, and was the sort of occasion appropriate for this record I found at yesterday’s Brooklyn Flea.

Who knows what the weekend adventures will mean for the week ahead…

This morning I felt like a deconstructed guacamole, sliding a slice of avocado next to seared flank steak, scrambling fresh eggs from the market this morning, scattering minced raw garlic, and squeezing lime over the spicy microgreens.

I contemplated what I will do with the green I bought at the market, a small square of wheatgrass,

and this afternoon, for a late lunch, I peeled shallots,

to sauté in a pan while pouring half a Tripel Ale in a saucier and adding a pound of steamers from Seatuck Fish, covering and letting the beer bubble for about seven minutes, then placing the soft-shell clams in a bowl, straining the liquid through a paper towel in a colander,

and adding it to the softened shallots, stirring in butter and salt. The emptied shells glistened, bright like the sun today and the raised hopes that spring will be here soon…

I meant to make jambalaya on Tuesday for Mardi Gras, but it was instead tonight that I made a risotto with tomato juice replacing stock, slices of andouille, onion, diced tomatoes, and sautéed shrimp.

Just like the city associated with the dish, it was warm, forgiving, not without a bit of a kick.

To make (Creole) jambalaya risotto for two:

Sauté half a diced onion in a little oil until translucent, add 1 cup of arborio rice, stir for 2 minutes to toast the grains, add 1 cup of sliced, cooked andouille sausage, one 14 oz. can of diced tomatoes and their juice, 2 cups water, cover and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes. Add more water if the risotto becomes dry. In a separate pan, sauté a few large shrimp for a few minutes, turning once, until pink and cooked through. Add the shrimp to the risotto. Plate, season, sprinkle with parsley. Stir in garlic, as you like, at the beginning or the end. (Apologies to traditionalists for the heretical rice choice and lack of peppers and gumbo file powder.)