Remember when?

I've been doing the vast majority of my book reading on my Kindle and iPad for the last 18 months or so. That's partly because it's just so easy to carry my Kindle everywhere I go, but also because I ran out of room for books in my apartment. (350 square feet, 1,000+ books...yeah.)

But, man. Aren't these gorgeous? I miss book covers. I miss the way they look, the way they feel, the way they smell...sigh. I miss it all.

McNally Jackson Books. Saturday, October 16.

Rainbows ahoy.

Success! The books are organized by color. Just wanted to let you guys see the finished result. The back of the unit is nearly full, and also organized by color, but by boring colors. (Dull green, lots of cream, a bit of black.)

Refresh.

I spent most of my day today rearranging the apartment, including reorganizing my (nearly 1,000) books by color. It was a long day, and I'm horrifyingly sore, but it was worth it. Results to come soon!

Gift Guide Number Three: (Mostly) cookbooks.

Darlings. My apologies for the lateness of this post. I fully accept that by posting the final chapter of my gift guide on December 15th, I am catering to procrastinators like myself (Amazon's Super Saver Shipping will still arrive by December 24th, people!), along with those shopping for January birthdays. So sue me.

For those of you who still seek inspiration - or are perhaps in the market for a gift to your fabulous selves - here goes. Queenie's suggestions for books - mostly cook-, some not - to give this holiday season.

1. Tartine Bread
Any of you who've been lucky enough to visit Tartine in San Francisco know that their wares are as gorgeous as they are tasty. This hefty new book (a companion to their earlier, pastry-focused tome) is no exception. Perfect for the carb-loving aesthete in your life.

2. The Gourmet Cookie Book
Gourmet was famous for their December issues, which always featured a series of delectable cookie recipes. The best of those are collected in this book, which is also a beautiful example of photography married with food styling joined with graphic design.

3. The Zuni Café Cookbook
This isn't a new book, but it's one I just received as a (very thoughtful) hostess gift this fall, and I am in love. It reads like a primer on good, soulful cooking, and has some insanely beautiful photographs to boot.

4. The Essential New York Times Cookbook
Edited by the indefatigable Amanda Hesser (co-founder, with Merrill Stubbs, of Food52), this collection of classic recipes is a must-have for anyone addicted to Craig Claiborne's original.

5. The Inn at Lake Devine
Okay, so this isn't a cookbook. Not even close. But it's one of my all-time favorite novels, and the main character is a chef. It's set mostly in the 1970s, and is pretty much the best translation of the Austenian spirit into contemporary fiction that I can think of. Food plays a central role in the novel's WASP/American Jewish culture clash plot (think Yankee pot roast vs. roast capon and blintzes), and I think you'll love it. A perfect stocking stuffer (or, um, late Hanukkah gift).

6. The Blackberry Farm Cookbook
It's gorgeous, it's full of good recipes, and it looks great on a coffee table. What more do you need?

7. The Frankies Spuntino Kitchen Companion and Cooking Manual
You know of my obesession with Frankies. Therefore, you cannot be surprised that their cookbook, published earlier this year, has made the list. Go forth and make lots of tomato and avocado salad, plus some cavatelli with browned butter and hot sausage. You're welcome.

8. As Always, Julia
A collection of Julia Child's correspondence with her close friend Avis Devoto, this is one of my must-reads for the year. It may not be a cookbook, but if Julia's perseverance and dedication (which always shine through when she's doing the talking/writing) don't make you get up and do something, then nothing will.

Queenie's Treasury

It's Saturday! Are you as excited about that as I am? It's been a productive morning so far - I got to sleep super-early last night and was up at 7 to enjoy some coffee and a quiet Greenmarket run. Not sure yet what the afternoon will bring, but, for now, here are some goodies to keep you busy!First up, some seriously beautiful books. I'm not sure if it's an irresistible response to the advent of the eReader, but Penguin has released stunning versions of classics over the last year. First there were the cloth-bound volumes, and now these magnificently Art Deco, gilded editions of F. Scott Fitzgerald. All of these were designed by inimitably talented Coralie Bickford-Smith.

Next up, a look at the latest plan to revitalize La Marqueta, East Harlem's storied five-block market. The latest plan, proposed by a private developer, is to expand the market to stretch a full 20 blocks - that's a mile - under the elevated Park Avenue train tracks. I have to admit, as someone who lives only about 20 blocks south of the market, the idea of being able to shop in a space rivaling London's Borough Market is very, very exciting. Even more so because the market would occupy an area that's traditionally been overlooked by projects like this in the past. Fingers crossed.

Finally, some cute little animals! I'm not usually one to fall for such things, but I absolutely love the photographs created by Sharon Montrose of The Animal Print Shop. When I see animals, I typically think "kid's room," but I can see these working in just about any space. They have a modern quality to them that really, really appeals to me. I just like 'em!

Not too cool for school.

One of the coolest things I'm doing this summer is going to school. That's right, I'm back on the books! The School of Visual Arts recently created an MFA program for Interaction Design, and I'm taking one of their Summer Intensive courses. So far, it's been a great experience. I'm working on a group project and seriously enjoying the assigned reading.

Our first individual assignment was to write a short essay about one of our design heroes. None of you, I'm sure, will be surprised to learn that I chose one Mrs. Julia Child. I thought I'd share my little essay with you, since I know you love her as much as I do - or, if you don't, you soon will!

Julia Child is widely credited with revolutionizing the way mid-20th century Americans cooked and ate - and rightly so. But while we typically think of Julia's influence flowing primarily from her television shows - The French Chef in particular - it was her innovative way of writing a recipe, more than anything else, that led to her enormous influence on American home cooking and cuisine.

Traditionally, a recipe is written as a list of ingredients followed by a set of instructions in paragraph form. Julia, however, knew that when presented with recipes in this format, people tend to forgo reading through the recipe ahead of time, instead assembling the ingredients and diving in head-first. This method - cooking a recipe cold, without reading through the steps required - can often lead to confusion, mishaps and a frantic search for necessary equipment.

In Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Julia and her co-authors addressed this issue by listing ingredients and equipment alongside the relevant steps in the recipe instructions, instead of ahead of them. The result? Cooks were forced to read through the entire process ahead of time, ensuring a firmer grasp on the principles of the recipe and a far sunnier outcome.

Add in the book's incredibly helpful, beautiful line drawings that assisted readers in the trimming of artichokes and trussing of chickens, and it becomes clear that Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking is a masterpiece of design as well as of cuisine.

And the winner is...

Hey, kids! It's that time! Time to announce the winner of the Recipe for Love giveaway. (As you remember, our prize is a gift of an apron, a set of spatulas and a signed, hardcover copy of the latest book in the series, On the Steamy Side.

Well, good news, RADgirl...you did win! Email me at megblocker (at) gmail (dot) com with your address in order to claim your prize!

Quality time with Queenie and a giveaway: author Louisa Edwards on her best meal ever, and how to win a signed copy of her new novel!

Loyal Queenie readers know her simply as "Louisa." She's a respected contemporary romance novelist, an accomplished cook, and, most importantly, she's my best friend! Louisa Edwards lives in Ohio with her husband (and two ridiculously adorable dogs, with whom I am certifiably obsessed), where she writes her fabulous novels and cooks in her enviably well-equipped kitchen.

The first book in Louisa's Recipe for Love trilogy, entitled Can't Stand the Heat, debuted last fall to excellent reviews, and the second book (On the Steamy Side - my personal favorite so far) came out in March!

When she's not guest posting here or scribbling furiously away on her next novel, Louisa can be found over at her blog, her website, and her always-witty Twitter feed. (She sometimes posts pictures of Hunter and Oscar, said dogs, on Twitter, which is reason enough to follow her.)

Today, along with her interview, Louisa has a giveaway for you! Read her interview for the details, and follow her instructions to be entered to win a whole bunch of loot. (A signed, hardcover copy of On the Steamy Side, a Recipe for Love apron, and a set of spatulas!)

How and from whom did you learn to cook?

Both of my parents are fantastic, adventurous cooks so we grew up trying lots of different cuisines and ingredients in my house. I moved to NYC after college and got out of the habit of cooking for myself, what with all the fabulous restaurants around, and my kitchen being about the size of a bathtub, but once we moved to a small town in Ohio? If I want something fabulous to eat here, I have to make it myself. So I settled down to figure out how to do that, and realized I loved it!

Do you consider yourself a baker, a cook, or a hybrid? Why?

I find baking very therapeutic and comforting, but I'd be more apt to call myself a cook, since it's what I do far more frequently. Plus, I've grown to love the freedom and creativity inherent in cooking, while I'm not truly comfortable enough with the science of baking to deviate from the recipe, usually.

If you could prepare any meal in the world, what would the menu be, and who would you invite to join you?

This is a tough one! Breakfast is my favorite meal, and my favorite thing is to cook with other people, all pitching in together, so I guess I'd have to invite my favorite cooks to help me come up with a magnificent brunch: my parents, my husband (he makes a mean omelet), my best friend, Meg (some of you know her as Queenie!), and maybe Eric Ripert (for the pretty) and Anthony Bourdain (for the stories.) We'd make cornmeal bacon waffles, Ruth Reichl's buttery pancakes, skinny French omelets filled with roasted potatoes, melted leeks, and sauteed mushrooms, country ham biscuits with red-eye gravy, and a big, gorgeous minted fruit salad. And mimosas! Heavy on the bubbly.

Is there something you love to eat that you never make at home? Where do you get your fix?

I love Japanese food, specifically chirashi, that beautiful jewel-box of fragrant, sticky sushi rice dotted with perfectly fresh, silky fish. There really isn't anyplace in my town where I can satisfy that craving, but whenever I travel, it's always in the back of my head as a major food priority. Most recently, I had an amazing chirashi at Ozumo, looking out over the Embarcadero in San Francisco.

Pick your poison.

If I could get away with drinking nothing but champagne for the rest of my life, I'd be a happy girl. I'd miss bourbon and gin, but somehow, I'd struggle through.

Describe the best meal you've ever eaten. Where were you? Who prepared it? And what made it so special?

This is next to impossible, but since I'm here with Queenie, it automatically puts me in mind of two dinners we've had together. And I bet she knows exactly which ones before I even say! The first was a transcendent meal in Paris at a tiny neighborhood bistro called Camille--pichets of house red, perfectly crisped duck breast, juicy lamb chops, and the hands-down best steak tartare I've ever tasted.

The other, slightly more dear to my heart because of the aforementioned cooking-together principle, was a night last summer when Meg and I tried our hands at banh mi for the first time. We'd made Julia's terrine of pork and veal a few days earlier, as well as some chicken liver pate that we tarted up with a shot of cinnamon. Those things went into the split loaves of crusty bread, along with an amazingly savory ground pork concoction with peanuts, fish sauce, and shallots.

Other condiments included chopped lemongrass, cilantro, and mint, grated fresh ginger, thinly sliced green onions, cucumber, and jalapenos, more fish sauce (because who can ever have enough of that stuff?) and sriracha. Oh em gee, they were divine! A harmonious symphony of French and Vietnamese flavors, hot sour salty sweet goodness! We ate them on the deck behind my house in the fading summer light, and I will never forget a moment of that meal.

What's for dinner tonight chez toi?

It just so happens that I stuck a side of salmon in to cure with sugar and salt, fresh dill, and lemon zest a few days ago, so tonight we're having gravlax! I'm itching to try an Eric Ripert recipe from his book A Return to Cooking: Smoked Salmon Croque Monsieur. We'll be using gravlax instead, and I don't have any lemon confit on hand, but I bet our version will still be pretty tasty.

What about you? What's on your dinner table? Answer in the comments below (Don't forget to include your email address!) for a chance to win a signed special hardcover edition of my newest Recipe for Love novel, On the Steamy Side, a Recipe for Love apron, and a set of red rubber spatulas!

A little light reading.

After finishing Moby-Dick for last month's book club meeting, I've been engaged in a binge-like round of comfort reading. I re-read Ruth Reichl's superlative second memoir (Comfort Me With Apples) and am deep into a session with Northanger Abbey (which I've read too many times to count). In between, I picked up Lunch In Paris, a memoir by Elizabeth Bard.

The book is, in fact, billed as a "love story with recipes," so I was excited to read it and get inspired. I was a bit disappointed, as the food mentioned - and often described with loving tenderness - rarely matched the recipes presented at the close of each chapter. (The thematic connections were there, to be fair.) That said, some of the recipes that were included seemed interesting, most notably Chapter Three's poulet basquaise.

Basque cooking is perhaps best known for its inclusion of piment d'espelette, a dried pepper that is the region's answer to paprika. It's delicious, sweet and smoky and spicy and complex. I love it, but had never cooked with it before. One order from Kalustyan's later, I was ready to get moving.

Poulet basquaise combines the d'espelette pepper with fresh sweet peppers and copious amounts of onion. Not everyone's cup of tea, surely, but I've rarely heard two words I love more than "onions" and "peppers." The recipe also called for a decent amount of bacon, some canned tomatoes, and had a fabulous sauce to meat ratio (read: high).

However. For an entire chicken, 28 ounces of tomatoes, 8 ounces of bacon, three peppers and four onions, Bard calls for only 2 teaspoons of espelette. Sorry, honey - not gonna cut it for this pepper lover. In fact, the recipe in general seems written for someone who's already a pretty comfortable cook; for example, she asks you to brown the chicken in a skillet, but doesn't offer a suggestion for which fat to use. So, I've taken it upon myself to put her fantastic formula into a format that will hopefully work for you - it's a bit time-consuming, as one-dish meals go, but it's truly delicious, and it fed me for five days.

You can't beat that.

Poulet Basquaise
Adapted from Elizabeth Bard's Lunch in Paris

One whole chicken, cut into six pieces (or six assorted legs & thighs)
3 tbs. piment d'espelette*, divided
Kosher salt
2 tbs. neutral oil, such as canola
3 slices bacon, cut crosswise into batons
2 white onions, thinly sliced into rounds
3 cloves garlic, halved lengthwise
3 red bell peppers, ends removed, sliced into 1/2 inch rounds
3 tbs. sherry vinegar
28 ounces plum tomatoes, with juice
1 bay leaf
4-5 sprigs thyme, leaves removed and stems discarded
3 tbs. parsley, finely chopped

Pat the chicken dry and place, skin-side up, on a plate. Season the chicken, on the skin-side, with a teaspoon or so of the d'espelette and a pinch of salt. In a large saute pan or dutch oven, heat the canola oil over medium-high heat. Place the chicken in the oil, skin-side down, and cook until golden brown. Meanwhile, season the bottom side of the chicken with another teaspoon of d'espelette and a pinch of salt.

Turn the chicken and brown on the other side, then remove the chicken pieces to a plate to rest. (Brown chicken in batches if need be; do not crowd the pan.)

Add the bacon to the pan and cook over medium heat for several minutes, until most of the fat is rendered, but the bacon isn't quite crispy. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside. Pour off all but a couple of tablespoons of the fat in the pan and place the pan over medium heat. Add the onions and garlic and cook slowly until the onions are well-softened, about 10 minutes. Add the peppers, a tablespoon of d'espelette and half a teaspoon of salt. Continue to cook over medium heat until the peppers are very soft, about 15 minutes.

Deglaze the pan with the vinegar, and then add the tomatoes one by one, crushing them between your fingers as you go - and don't forget their juice! Return the bacon to the pan and add the remaining d'espelette, bay leaf, thyme and parsley. Bring the mixture to a simmer, place the chicken on top, and cover. Keep the pan cooking at a simmer for 30 to 40 minutes. Remove the bay leaf, adjust for seasoning, and serve.

I like to serve this with couscous, which does a great job of soaking up the sauce. Since I ate most of the stew well after it had been made, I added a few pinches of fresh herbs to the couscous to brighten things up.

Serves 4-6 people. The sauce is more filling than you'd expect.

*If you can't find piment d'espelette, hot (not sweet) paprika makes a good substitute.

The (food) moments that shaped my decade.

The aughts are coming to a close tonight, and I've decided to join the frenzy of lists appearing across the interwebs. Mine is a fairly personal, navel-gazing sort of list; instead of naming the biggest events in the food world in general, I've decided to focus on the most significant moments of my food- and drink-centered life over the last decade.

I turned 21 in 2000 and graduated from college in 2001, so the aughts have encompassed my early adulthood, my twenties. They're the years I spent finding my home (Hello, New York!), my career (user experience research and design, for now) and my taste (Sriracha, bacon and Vietnamese food, FTW!). In fact, it's pretty darn hard to distill the most important moments of my eating life down to a list of just ten top ones, so please forgive me for any that seem like I'm cheating by, say, essentially granting a tie to every single moment of my 2006 trip to Europe. Please?

All right, here goes!

Number 10: My first taste of Far Niente's Dolce.
As you all know, I am a huge fan of dessert wines both funky and sweet, and particularly of those that combine the two. Before I tried Sauternes or Banyuls, though, I drank Dolce - which is America's most delicious answer to the former. I still remember my first sip, which took place one boozy Saturday night in 2004, at Ouest with Nick and Louisa, when Nick ordered a 375 ml bottle for the three of us to share. I'd never tasted anything quite like it - syrupy, but not sickly, and infinitely musky and complex. I'd go on to tour the winery in 2006, where my mom practically had to restrain me from buying a whole case.

Number 9: Dinner at Alinea.
This one just made it in under the wire, happening as it did in November 2009. My first (and hopefully not last) dinner at Alinea was predictably delicious, and - despite the giant spoiler effect of following Grant Achatz's restaurant for years - surprising and exciting. It was a meal unlike any other I've ever eaten, one where craftsmanship was present in every bite and whimsy never once trumped flavor. A truly incredible experience.
Number 8: Discovering the wonder of Vietnamese food.
Gradually, over the last eight years, my Asian cuisine of choice has slowly shifted from Chinese, to Thai, and finally alighted on Vietnamese. The original Asian fusion, Vietnamese food combines Asian ingredients and flavors with French technique, and has given us such culinary delights as pho (a noodle soup like no other) and the currently super-trendy banh mi, a sandwich full of terrine, herbs, pickles and pate, served on that most French of breads, the baguette. It's slightly funky, thanks to the ever-present fish sauce, but also refined, thanks to a balance of flavors and textures. And I just can't get enough.

Number 7: Making banh mi at home.
Speaking of Vietnamese food - but, seriously, folks...I'm including this past summer's banh mi-fest not only because the results were delicious, but because I think it marks a culmination of the collaborative cooking and exploration Louisa and I have done together. We push one another to try new and different techniques and ingredients, using our time together each summer to tackle a couple of new projects. These banh mi, for which we made everything from scratch - even grinding our own meat - save the bread, are our proudest achievement to date. A repeat performance is planned, and we'll be upping the ante by baking our own baguettes.

Number 6: Ditching vodka for booze with actual flavor.
Just as there's a place for water in the pantheon of great beverages, there's one for vodka. That place, however, is not in a cocktail, and certainly not in a martini. If there's one thing for which my boozehound side is most grateful to the aughts, it's the cocktail craze, and, in particular, the resurgence of brown spirits and gin. Gin is just...better. As is bourbon. And dark rum. And...everything. Vodka is great in a Russian restaurant, served ice cold alongside caviar, but that's about it. I know some of you disagree, and that's your perogative. But, you're, um, wrong.

Number 5: Discovering Thomas Keller.
Obviously, I didn't discover Chef Keller, but he didn't mean much to me before, oh, 2003 or 2004, at which point I became obsessed with eating in at least one of his restaurants. Since then, I've cooked from three of his cookbooks (Bouchon, The French Laundry and Ad Hoc), eaten at three of his restaurants (Per Se, Bouchon and Bouchon Bakery) and become a devoted fan. His mashup of American ingredients and know-how with classic French technique may no longer be revolutionary, but it's still revelatory: I dare you not to fall in love with Bouchon's entire menu. Go ahead - in fact, I double-dog dare you.

Number 4: Joining eGullet.
I joined the internet food fray in 2005, when I became a member (and, eventually, a staffer) of eGullet. For a time, it was my absolutely favorite place on the web. Full of interesting, smart people who knew a ton about home cooking and the restaurant world, it was where I first stretched my food-loving wings, and, in particular, my food-writing muscles. It's where I learned about Sriracha and how to make puff pastry. It's where I learned how to take decent photographs of food. And, most significantly, the two week-long foodblogs I did there in 2006 and 2007 gave me the confidence I needed to start my own blog, which is coming up on its (gasp) third anniversary.

Number 3: Making my first mayonnaise.
I read Amanda Hesser's memoir Cooking For Mr. Latte when it first came out in 2003. It was a sweet book, but I was more interested in the food than in the love story, and was determined to become as sophisticated an epicurean as Ms. Hesser herself. Thus inspired, I made my first mayonnaise from her recipe, and have been whisking ever since. It marked the first time I ventured into truly classical, technique-focused cooking, and the deliciousness of homemade mayonnaise convinced me that (most) shortcuts are, indeed, for suckers.

2. My trip to Europe with Louisa.
Louisa and I spent two weeks in Prague, Strasbourg, Champagne and Paris in 2006. The trip cemented us as best friends, thanks in great part to the enormous amount of bonding we did over food and drink. Whether it was duck in a Prague pub, flutes of Champagne in a Reims tasting room, or steak tartare in Paris, the food we ate and the sights we saw created a common set of memories and experiences that will be ours, alone, forever. It also happens that the trip included two of my top meals of all time (at Chez Yvonne and Camille in Strasbourg and Paris, respectively), the best eclair in history, and the most satisfying doner kebab ever. All in all, two weeks that will live in memory - actually, in perpetuity, thanks to the internet.

1. Shopping at the Union Square Greenmarket.
Blame it on Dan Barber, Michael Pollan - whomever. For a myriad of reasons, I started shopping seasonally and locally a few years ago, and have no plans to go back. Oh, sure, I still buy frozen vegetables, and I do buy cucumbers out of season - not to mention the occasional flown-in fish. But, thanks to New York City's incredible Greenmarket network, I've been able to do a remarkable thing: support local businesses, reduce my carbon footprint, and make super food - all at the same time. Nothing's changed my eating habits more drastically in the last decade than my effort to shop as much as possible in Union Square (or at one of the other Greenmarket outposts around the city), and, for that I am grateful.

So, folks - if you've managed to stick it out this long - what were the formative moments of the aughts for you? Share in the comments - and Happy New Year!

Santa, baby...forgot to mention one little thing...

How could I? I completely forgot to include Judith Jones's cookbook The Pleasures of Cooking For One in my original gift guide. For shame!

The books is a delightfully old-fashioned ode to taking the time and trouble to cook for oneself, a reminder that those of us who eat alone (either occasionally or on a regular basis) deserve delicious, homemade food just as much as those who feast together. Part memoir, part cookbook, it's a hugely useful and inspiring book.

I'm so sorry, Judith! Maybe passing you on the street the other day got me too excited to think clearly. (It really was an exciting moment for this fangirl.)

Queenie's Treasury

Happy weekend, readers! Here in New York it's a cold, sleety sort of day; the kind of day made for curling up with a book in front of the fire - or, in my case, the teeny Christmas tree. If your weather is similarly gray, I hope these tidbits will brighten it up a bit.

First off, a new project from three great food bloggers (Maggie of Pithy & Cleaver, Jennie of In Jennie's Kitchen and Olga of Sassy Radish). Those of us who miss Gourmet will do just about anything for a fix of the real thing. Luckily, Gourmet, Unbound has arrived to fill a little bit of the hole left behind. Each month, they're collecting a series of posts about Gourmet recipes past and publishing them on their new site. Each month they'll feature recipes from any year in Gourmet's history; the recipe, however, must be from an issue matching the month in question. (In other words, January will feature recipes from Gourmet's January issues, and so on.) Check out their December posts for holiday meal planning inspiration!

Next, from Design*Sponge, a super-cool (and pretty) recipe for wassail, the traditional Christmas punch. Booze + pretty photos + the holidays = happy Queenie.
Last, but not least, an inspiring reading list from Michelle over at Feminine Modern. I've read a few on this list, and am now lusting after French Market Cooking. France? Local produce? Sign me up! A great list for gift-giving inspiration, to be sure.

We have a winner!

Drum roll, please...

I'm thrilled to announce that Sharon has won the autographed copy of Louisa Edwards' debut novel, Can't Stand The Heat!

Sharon, please send me an email (megblocker at gmail dot com) letting me know to whom you'd like the book dedicated, and where it should be sent!

Thanks to everyone who entered the contest!

Love + food = giveaway!

OK, guys. It's finally here. My best friend Louisa Edwards has released her debut novel, and it's awesome. The first in her Recipe For Love trilogy, Can't Stand The Heat is the story of the romance between Miranda Wake, a restaurant critic, and Adam Temple, a chef.

That's right - it's a romance novel. About food.

I have read said novel (all in one go on a Friday night a few weeks back), and I promise that you will love it. It's funny and smart and full of delicious food (including a recipe for this cocktail and this product of our 2008 Pork Belly-Off). It's also full of punk music, men with sexy accents, lessons in how to poach an egg, and, well - booty. After all, it is a romance novel.

I know, dear readers, that you are dying to get your hands on a copy. I'm here to help. Better yet - I will get you a signed copy, dedicated to you (or the friend or loved one of your choice), inked by none other than the authoress herself.

All you have to do to win is comment below and tell me about your favorite food-related scene from all of literature - if you can choose just one, that is. You have until 5 PM EDT on Monday, September 28th to enter, after which a lucky winner will be chosen at random!

Aaaaaand...go!

Champagne + biography = this reader's heaven!

I just saw this review by Roadfood's Jane and Michael Stern on NYTimes.com. Seems there is a new biography of the Widow (in French, Veuve) Clicquot that focuses "as much [on] Champagne itself as [on] the woman who helped elevate it to celebrity status."

Veuve is admittedly not my favorite Champagne, but Barbe-Nicole Clicquot was instrumental in turning Champagne into the international commercial enterprise it is today, and I can't help but be fascinated by that.

Sounds like my perfect book, and available at Barnes & Noble for less than 20 bucks (if you're a member, that is). Score!