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.

To the fullest.

Sometimes I feel that, living as I do in the most exciting city on the planet, I don't take anywhere near enough advantage of its riches. Not even close.

Well, the last three days of my life have put paid to that notion. I've seen a fabulous new (and cheap) play at Ars Nova, eaten an amazing breakfast at Prune and brunch at Marlow & Sons, explored Greenpoint, and partaken of three cultural events the likes of which my adolescent, New York-obsessed self never would have dreamed.

Sunday brought a screening of an original print of Pretty In Pink - and a question and answer session with Ms. Molly Ringwald herself.

Monday night was dinner at Shake Shack and an evening of Margaret Atwood, who's been one of my political and literary idols since I read The Handmaid's Tale at the age of 15.

On Tuesday? A trip to the design blogger audience taping of The Nate Berkus Show, which was an entirely zany, over-the-top experience in its own right. (Clickety to see Design Blahg's take on how the day missed the mark in terms of its focus on the design blog world.)

Mission Do-More-In-The City? Accomplished.

Details on the food? Coming soon.

Let the storm wash the plates.

Today, the fantastic food-in-litblog Lashings and Lashings of Ginger Beer posted the poem "Strawberries" by Scottish poet Edwin Morgan. All my life, I have had a fondness for all things strawberry, and, since my trip there in 2007, a fondness for all things Scottish. Therefore, I am doubly delighted by this selection.

Not to mention, it's one of the hotter poems ever written about a food item. Tastefully hot, of course. Sensual, you might even say. Enjoy!

"Strawberries" by Edwin Morgan

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon

sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air

in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

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!

Books + food = fun!

I'm not the only person out there obsessed with both literature and food, and here's the proof. There's a new blog called Lashings and Lashings of Ginger Beer that features a food-focused literary passage each day. So far, they've posted on The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, Goblin Market, Swann's Way (The madeleine, of course!) and many, many others.

So, if you're jonesin' for a fix of food porn and can't wait for Louisa's first novel (Can't Stand the Heat, due out in the fall of 2009 from St. Martin's Press), head on over to Lashings and get your fill!

Sunday snacks, courtesy of M. Proust.

In what is probably the most famous food-related passage in the history of prose, Marcel Proust waxes nostalgic about the madeleine. "The little scallop-shell of pastry," he writes, is "so richly sensual under its severe religious folds."

For Proust, the taste of the buttery, eggy madeleine (dipped in tea) recalls image upon image from his childhood, "as in the game wherein the Japanese amuse themselves by filling a porcelain bowl with water and steeping in it little pieces of paper which until then are without character or form, but, the moment they become wet, stretch and twist and take on colour and distinctive shape, become flowers or houses or people."

And so it's clear that the madeleine is no ordinary cookie, but one saddled with an extraordinary history. It has become so symbolic of French identity that it was chosen to represent the country at the Cafe Europe expo in 2006.

You would think, given all this hoopla, that the madeleine is hard to make. You'd be wrong. Nothing, really, could be easier. Yes, it's true - you do need the special, shell-shaped pan - but other than that, it's one of the simplest things you can bake. Add to that the opportunities for endless variety (add orange juice and zest, do the same with lemon, maybe infuse the butter with a bit of lavender), and you begin to understand the madeleine's enduring popularity, and also why it's my go-to afternoon treat.

The recipe I'm including here is the simplest version - play around with it, find variations you like. It's a small-batch recipe, since madeleines are best fresh out of the oven. However, it multiplies really easily, so if you're feeding a crowd, double and triple at will. This afternoon, I whipped up a honey-flavored batch.

Basic Madeleines

2 eggs
1/3 cup sugar
Pinch of kosher salt
1/2 cup of flour, sifted*
4 tbs. unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly, plus extra butter for greasing the pans
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Pre-heat the oven to 375°F and grease the madeleine pan(s), making sure to get butter in each little ridge.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the eggs, sugar and salt until thick - this will take about 5-8 minutes, depending on your eggs.

Fold in the flour until well-combined, then quickly stir in melted butter and vanilla. Spoon the batter into the greased pan(s) and bake till slightly golden brown around the edges, and until the sponge bounces back when touched.

Cool in the pan for a few minutes, then turn the cookies out onto a plate or some parchment paper.

Makes a dozen large or 24 miniature madeleines.

*I'm normally not much of a stickler for sifting, but it's actually really important here if you want a fluffy, spongy cookie.