Springtime in a vase.

Peonies are my favorite spring flower. So lush, so remarkably happy-making. What's your favorite flower?

Nostalgia.

This past weekend, I visited my alma mater, Bryn Mawr College, for my ten-year reunion. It was, in a word, amazing. I'd never exactly forgotten how much I loved my time at Bryn Mawr, or how inspiring it was to be surrounded, every single day, by such brilliant, driven and remarkable women, but I'd forgotten the sense of wonder that experience gave me. No more, friends. Never again will I take those four years for granted.

And it doesn't hurt that the campus is unbelievably lush and full of breathtaking neo-Gothic architecture. I mean, this place was designed by Calbert Vaux and Frederick Law Olmstead (they of Central Park in Manhattan) - how could it not be stunning?

I visited most of my old dorms, even peeking into my senior year room, which was a ridiculously palatial single with thirteen-foot ceilings, a fireplace and a wall of windows (windowseat, too, natch).

I also paid a too-brief visit to Haverford College, just a mile down the road. Bryn Mawr and Haverford have an unusually close, cooperative relationship (same class schedules, same meal plan, ability to live, take any class or major at either college, and so on), and I majored in religion there.

I had cocktails with my thesis advisor and two of my fellow majors, and managed to snap a photo of Haverford's undeniably picturesque Skating House.

I really can't wait ten more years before I go back again. Even five might be a challenge.

Fingers crossed.

I have to make a few more visits to cement things, but I think I've found a new local: Flex Mussels on E. 82nd Street. The mussels and oysters were delicious, as was the rosé. And, most importantly, they have a bustling bar up front. Stay tuned.

Tweaking a classic.

My name is Meg, and I'm addicted to Italian food.

If you are even a casual reader of my blog, you probably already knew that. I mean, I'm an omnivore. I love Vietnamese, Chinese (especially bad, Americanized Chinese - I am half-Jewish, after all), French (obviously), Japanese, Cuban, Mexican (especially taqueria-style eats), Spanish, molecular...you name it, I probably really enjoy it.

But when it comes to what I'm likely to cook at home, Italian frequently seems to win the day. I think it's likely the result of its emphasis on fresh ingredients (especially vegetables) and my ability to look at pretty much anything and go, "That would be great with some olive oil and garlic." Whatever the reason, Italian - or, at least, Italian-inspired - is often on the menu chez Queenie.

So when I wound up with a package of hot pork sausage a week or so ago, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it: make some sausage and peppers. I turned to my current Italian-American gurus, the Frankies. Yes, I know. You've heard me mention them before. Tough noogies.

The Frankies make their classic sausage and peppers with sweet sausage, and serve it on polenta. I only had hot sausage, but I added some basil from my windowsill garden to sweeten things up. And, since I'm trying to cut back on the processed carbs (which is not easy when you love pasta as much as I do, guys), I ate mine all plain-like. It was still dang good.

Sausage with Onions and Roasted Peppers
Adapted from The Frankies Spuntino Kitchen Companion & Cooking Manual

2 bell peppers (at least one red; the other red, yellow or orange)
1 small yellow onion
2 tsp. canola oil
Kosher salt
1 pound hot pork sausage, casings removed
14 oz. canned San Marzano tomatoes
1/4 cup loosely packed basil leaves, sliced crosswise into 1/4 inch slices

Roast the peppers:
Using a gas stove, turn two burners on high and lay a pepper on each (Using tongs, please!). Roast the peppers, using the tongs to turn them, until the skins are evenly and completely black and blistered. It should take between 5 and 10 minutes.

(If you don't have gas burners, brush the peppers with a bit of canola oil and roast them under the broiler, following pretty much the same procedure. This method may take a bit longer.)

Once the peppers are roasted, place them in a medium mixing bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap. They'll steam a bit before they cool, which will make them easy to peel. Once they're cool, peel away the blackened bits and core and seed them. Slice them lengthwise in 1/4 inch wide slices, and set aside.

Prepare the sausage & onions:
Cut the onion in half lengthwise (through the root), then cut the halves into 1/4 inch wide slices with the grain, meaning lengthwise from the root to the tip.

Heat the canola oil in a wide saute pan over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add the onion and just a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion softens and takes on a golden color. If things are browning too quickly, add a splash of water to the pan (but make sure it cooks off before you move on to the next step).

Use a slotted spoon to add the onion to the peppers. Without turning the heat down, add the sausage to the pan. Use a wooden spoon to break it into small clumps and saute for 10-12 minutes, until it's brown but not dry.

Add the canned tomatoes, crushing them one by one as you add them to the pan. Add half the basil. Scrape the bottom of the pan to rescue any delicious browned bits. Simmer the lot for 15-30 minutes, or longer if you have the time. Add the peppers, onions and remaining basil, and cook for a few minutes more.

Serves 2-3.

An unexpected treat.

As a tried and true caffeine fiend, I can typically be trusted to show up pretty much anywhere with a coffee cup in hand. My current favorite is Stumptown, the Portland, Oregon based roasters and brewers who've recently opened up (limited) shop here in New York.

I'm far too busy (read: lazy) to make my way to the Stumptown shop at the Ace Hotel on a regular basis, so imagine my delight when I discovered that Balthazar Bakery, which brews Stumptown, also stocks a couple of different bean blends.

I stop in to Balthazar for a fix a couple of times a month (They're near my stylist Holly's salon, and my new 'do requires bang trims approaching the fanatical.), but I'd never noticed the wall o' beans before. I quickly snapped up a pound of the Balthazar blend, roasted on May 18th. It's round and rich and strong, but not bitter. Pretty perfect, right?

My apartment, it must be said, smells divinely of coffee at the moment. Bliss.

PSA: Strawberries are here!

Strawberries made their first appearance at the Greenmarket this morning, kids! Time to start planning your pies, crostatas, shortcakes and compotes.

This scone.

This, my friends, is a strawberry-rhubarb scone from the lovely and amazing Two Little Red Hens bakery.

While my neighborhood (Yorkville, part of Manhattan's Upper East Side) is still woefully lacking a great coffee place (Joe, won't you please open over here?), it does have some seriously good baked goods. For bread, you can hit Orwasher's. And for the sweet stuff, you can go fancy and high-falutin' at Lady M, or down-home and amazing with the Hens.

This scone is a perfect example of how they take rustic to the next level. Yes, it's a slightly misshapen, large, American-style scone. But it's made with the best ingredients, it's seasonal, and it's incredibly tender and delicious. Its top is lightly crusted with crunchy sugar, it's stuffed with rhubarb and berries, and its innards are all creamy and lush. It is marvelous.

Next time, we'll talk about the buttery glaze on their cinnamon rolls. Drool.