After reading my Times piece on innovative (breadless) stuffing, a friend wrote to remind me of a great Jane Grigson quote about holiday meals: "Clever food is not appreciated; it makes the young ones cry and the old ones nervous." You all asked for it, you got it. Here is my mother's recipe for traditional chestnut stuffing. She says you can use any bread for this (this year she's planning to use up some old bagels in the freezer). But I tested this today using a baguette and it was terrific. But use whatever bread you like. Rye, whole wheat, and even cornbread would all work well, I think. So no more tears!

My Mom's Traditional Chestnut Stuffing

Time: 20 to 40 minutes, depending on if you roast your own chestnuts

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, more if needed

1 large onion (about 10 ounces), diced

2 celery stalks, trimmed and sliced

1 teaspoon plus 1 pinch kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon plus 1 pinch freshly ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

10 ounces mushrooms (1 box), sliced

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 pound chestnuts (see note), roasted, peeled and coarsely chopped

10 ounces bread, preferably stale, cubed (6 to 7 cups)

4 large eggs

1 1/2 cups chicken stock, plus more if needed

2 tablespoons chopped parsley

1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage

1. In a skillet over medium-high heat, heat 4 tablespoons of the butter. Cook the onion, celery, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, the pepper, and nutmeg until the onion is golden and soft, about 10 minutes. Scrape the mixture into a large mixing bowl.

2. Add another 2 tablespoons of the butter into the skillet and heat. Cook the mushrooms and garlic with 1/2 teaspoon of salt until the mushrooms are golden brown, 7 to10 minutes. Scrape the mixture into the mixing bowl.

3. Add the chestnuts and bread to the bowl with the vegetables and toss to combine.

4. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs with the chicken stock, parsley, sage, and remaining pinch of salt and pepper. Pour the egg mixture into the chestnut-bread mixture and stir well to combine.

5. Stuff the stuffing into the turkey or place in a 9- by 12- baking pan. Dot the top of the stuffing with more butter if baking in a pan. If using a baking pan, bake at 375 degrees F. until the top is light golden brown and the middle is almost set, 30 to 35 minutes.

Makes 10 cups stuffing, enough to stuff a 12-pound turkey

Note:

You can use a 14-ounce jar of peeled, roasted chestnuts for this, or roast and peel your own chestnuts.

My father uses the microwave. Working with about 5 chestnuts at a time, he slits each chestnut almost all the way around its circumference, leaving the shell connected in one spot (there is a black dot on the chestnut that he uses as the hinge). Then he lays the nuts on a plate and microwaves them in high power for 40 seconds. The shells pop open like clams. He wets his fingers in cold water and pulls off the shells before the chestnuts cool. Repeat until all the chestnuts are peeled. The fresh ones really are better than the jarred, and he says it only takes him 15 minutes to do a pound.

Testing some new pie recipes for the book, I came up with a real winner for the season (if I do say so myself). Sweet-tart, fruity, chewy, and crunchy from the walnut crumble on top (not to mention a little bit boozy, too), it's a perfect apple pie variation for Thanksgiving -- or for whenever you're in the mood for pie (in this house the answer is always). You can skip the rum and use apple cider if you don't want the alcohol, and other dried fruit -- cherries, cranberries, chopped apricots -- can stand in for the raisins. Ditto pecans, cashews, or almonds for the walnuts. It's a very amenable pie.

Harvest Apple-Pear Pie with Cranberries and Rum Raisins

Time: 90 minutes

1 recipe Perfect Pie Crust

1/2 cup golden raisins

1/2 cup dark raisins

1/3 cup dark rum

2/3 cup dark brown sugar

2 apples (about 1 pound), peeled, cored, and cut into 1/2-inch slices

2 large pears (about 1 pound), peeled, cored, and cut into 1/2-inch slices

2/3 cup fresh or frozen cranberries

3 tablespoons granulated sugar

2 tablespoons cornstarch

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Pinch kosher salt

Crumb topping:

1/2 cup all purpose flour

1/2 cup rolled oats

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup chopped toasted walnuts

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, chilled and cubed

1. Place the pie dough between 2 sheets of plastic wrap and roll into a 3/8-inch thick round. Line a 9-inch pie pan with the dough, use your thumb and forefinger to flute the edges, and chill in the refrigerator while you prepare the filling (or for up to 1 day, lightly cover the dough with plastic if leaving for more than 2 hours).

2. In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the raisins and rum with 1/3 cup of water. Stir in the brown sugar and bring to a boil. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is dissolved, then remove from heat, cover, and let cool to room temperature.

3. Preheat the oven to 375° F. Line the crust with foil, fill with pie weights, and place on a foil-lined baking sheet. Bake the crust until light golden brown, about 20 minutes. Take the pan out of the oven and remove the foil and weights.

4. While the crust bakes, prepare the rest of the filling. In a large bowl, combine the apples, pears, cranberries, sugar, cornstarch, lemon juice, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and salt. When the raisin mixture has cooled scrape it into the fruit mixture, tossing well to combine. Allow the fruit mixture to rest at room temperature while until the crust is ready.

5. Scrape the filling into the crust, piling the fruit into a mound in the center so it does not spill out. Return the pie to the oven and bake for 30 minutes.

6. Meanwhile, prepare the crumb topping. In a medium bowl, mix together the flour, oats, brown sugar, nuts, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Using your fingers, rub the butter into the flour mixture until large crumbs form. Carefully remove the pie from the oven and sprinkle the crumb topping all over the filling. Return the pie to the oven and bake until the fruit is very tender and the juices are bubbling, another 30 to 35 minutes. Check after 20 minutes, if the crumb topping looks too brown, tent the pie with a sheet of foil. Allow the pie to cool for 25 to 30 minutes on a wire rack before serving.

Serves 6 to 8

What do you do when Harry and David sends you half a dozen pears as big as your head? Cut up and bake them with maple syrup, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves of course. I made them yesterday and the whole house smelled like Christmas. Could we have gotten any cozier this weekend? I should note, that's not my head in the photo. (Thanks, Sarah.)

Maple and Spice Baked Pears

Time: 40 minutes

5 normal-sized pears (about 2 1/4 pounds), peeled and quartered (I used 2 1/2 giant ones)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed

2 tablespoons pure maple syrup (I used grade B)

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

3 whole cloves

Preheat the oven to 400° F. Place the pears in a 9- by 13-inch baking dish, dot them with the butter, drizzle with the syrup, and sprinkle with the spices. Bake the pears, basting with the pan juices every 10 to 15 minutes, until the pears are very tender, 35 to 40 minutes. You could serve with yogurt or creme fraiche or ricotta. We ate them over pancakes. The baby ate them plain by the fistful.

Yield: 6 to 8 servings

I ran into some friends at the farmers' market this weekend. I was waiting on the fish line, debating on the sustainable options for dinner. Squid or clams? Mussels or porgy? Ho hum, it was beginning to seem like a terrible rotation, no matter how much I love seafood.

My friends gave me an idea. "We got lobsters, we're making lobster rolls," my friends said, "we got them last week too, they are fantastic."

These days there are an oversupply of lobsters, making them sustainable and cheap (well, cheap for lobsters). Still the two that I ordered came to $26.

"You'll love them," the fish lady promised.

A menu started taking shape in my head: I'd grill the lobsters along with some of the corn I'd picked up, and douse everything in a garlic-lemon butter that I'm currently obsessed with (you'll see a variation of it next week in my column, seasoned with cayenne and served over clams).

The question then became, how to dispatch the lobsters before putting them on the grill. Should I par boil them? This is the easiest, least confrontational way. You chuck the lobsters in a water-filled pot, clamp on the lid and try not to listen to their death rattles as they frantically try to escape their sauna-like demise.

I could stick a knife between their eyes a la Julia Child.

Or I could follow Trevor Corson's wise advice. A lobster expert, his exhaustive research shows that if you freeze the crustaceans for 15 to 20 minutes to numb them, then plunge a knife into their guts, they die instantly and humanely.

Another friend laughed in my face when I told her about my dilemma. I didn't want to plunge my knife into a lobster gut, but wasn't keen on boiling them alive either.

"Do what's easiest for you, " she said. "It's a lobster for god's sake, why are you worried about being humane to a shellfish?"

A year ago, before I ever even contemplated the idea of lobster pain, I would have boiled the creepy little fellows alive. But now I don't think I could ever go back there. Even if I want to steam them for serving, I'll kill them first, as humanely as possible.

Except, come time to do the deed, in that moment I lost my nerve. Even frozen for 15 minutes, the critters were still moving.

Luckily, Daniel was not intimidated by waving claws and antennae. He volunteered and I took a video of his handiwork. I hope that it will inspire other people to try this (hopefully) humane method of seafood slaughter. It's not hard if you're not squeamish (I'm embarrassed by my temporary squeamishness, but so it goes, I'm planning to do the dirty work myself next time, and I have done it before for this article I wrote for the Times, so I'm not a total wimp...)

Anyway, after Daniel killed the beasts, we put them back-side down on the grill, covered it, and let the lobsters cook until their shells went red and the pearly flesh went from translucent to opaque. It took about 10 minutes, and we added the husked corn to the grill after 5.

The recipe for garlic-lemon butter is easy: stir together 4 tablespoons melted butter, 1 garlic clove that you've pasted with a pinch of salt, a few drops of lemon juice, and a bunch of chopped herbs (we used tarragon). Add more salt and some pepper.

Since I don't cook lobsters regularly at home, we didn't have any tools like crackers or shiny forks, but we used a garlic press to crack the claws, and the tips of sharp knives to extract the meat. It was primitive, but effective. And it all somehow felt right, sitting outside on the deck, being gnawed on by mosquitoes, while we gnawed on what are ostensibly just large, tasty $26 insects. With a bottle of rosé, of course.

The fabulous Lynne Rossetto Kasper of American Public Radio's "The Splendid Table" had me on her show to talk about summertime, chilled soups that are a snap to make in the blender, like savory smoothies only better. One of my go-to August recipes is for cold buttermilk (or yogurt) soup with fresh herbs, garlic, and almonds - Lynne thought it sounded a little like drinking Ranch dressing, but I promise you it's a treat that surpasses what you might find in Hidden Valley. Listen to the podcast and decide for yourself.

People have been asking, so here it is, my favorite lemon square recipe tarted up with rosemary in the crust. I developed it for my forthcoming book, based on my New York Times column, A Good Appetite. Enjoy!

Lemon Curd-Rosemary Squares

Time: 1 hour 15 minutes

For the shortbread:

3 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/3 cup confectioners' sugar, plus additional for sprinkling

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary

1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

For the lemon curd:

6 large eggs, lightly beaten

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

2/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (3 to 4 lemons)

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest

1 pinch kosher salt

1. Preheat the oven to 325° F and lightly grease a 9- by 13-inch baking pan.

2. To make the shortbread base, combine the flour, butter, granulated sugar, confectioners' sugar,rosemary, and salt in a food processor. Pulse until crumbly dough forms. Press the dough into the prepared pan and bake until the shortbread is golden around the edges, about 40 minutes.

3. While the shortbread is baking, prepare the lemon curd. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs,sugar, lemon juice, four, lemon zest, and salt.

4. When the shortbread is ready, take it out of the oven and increase the temperature to 350° F. Carefully pour the lemon curd onto the shortbread base and return the pan to the oven. Bake until the
topping is just set, about 20 minutes more. Allow to cool to room temperature before cutting into2-inch squares. Cover and refrigerate the bars up to 3 days. Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar before
serving.

Yield: 24 squares

I've succumbed to Twitter though honestly I have no idea what in the world I'll tweet about. Willing to risk getting boring tweets about what flavor mush-du-jour I'm feeding my 8-month-old? You can follow me at @goodappetite.

My kitchen is no longer tiny - but I remember the days. This video is the companion to a segment I did on the Leonard Lopate Show on Monday. You can listen to the podcast if you like.

The Takeaway (Public Radio International's morning news and talk program) had me on to talk about Thanksgiving leftovers - I guess I had something interesting to say about cold mashed potatoes because they've kept asking me back. It's so much fun and, as I'm often up with the baby at 5:00 in the morning anyway, I don't mind going to WNYC's gorgeous new studios to have a little pre-dawn food chat. I've got my own contributor page on The Takeaway's website.

I have one thing to say: bacon and egg sandwich. No, it's not like any bacon and egg sandwich you've ever had before, with thick cut bacon and hard-cooked eggs. Read more about it here.

I couldn't be more thrilled to report that I've sold my book "Adventures of A Good Appetite" to be published by Hyperion. It's based on my New York Times column, but it'll have an even more personal slant (the Times tolerates only so much nostalgia) and lots more new recipes. I'll keep everyone posted on how it's going - look for the book on the shelves in the fall of 2010.

Well, it's been a long haul (repeat, loooong), but I've finally turned in the final, final, it-better-be-final-manuscript for the upcoming dessert book by Bill Yosses, White House pastry chef. Bill and I started work on the 600 plus page tome 5 years ago. The book is called "A Billion Beautiful Desserts," and believe me, it truly lives up to its title - the recipes are spectacular and one of a kind, including The Best-Ever Chocolate Chunk Hazelnut Cookies, Spiced Floating Islands, and Banana Tart with Lime Caramel. Worth every bit of wait, it will be available from Norton in the fall of 2010.

We just handed in the manuscript for The Blue Ribbon Restaurant Cookbook! I had a fabulous time working on it with Eric and Bruce Bromberg, Suzanne Allgair, Elizabeth Frumin and everyone else at the restaurants. The book is a collection of beloved recipes from NYC's famed Blue Ribbon restaurants (and most of our meetings were held in the dining room of the Blue Ribbon Bakery on Bedford Street (see why I love my job?). But what really makes it special is that the Bromberg brothers share many, many of the tips they've gathered over the years (between graduating at the head of their class from Le Cordon Bleu and running the restaurant for the past decade they've got a few tricks hiding up those chefs' coat sleeves). For example, did you know that if you use semi-sweet instead of bittersweet chocolate in your souffle you can use less sugar in the meringue and end up with the lightest, fluffiest dessert possible? Or that you can tell if a piece of meat is cooked to your liking by sticking a metal skewer into it, then holding it on your cheek; if it's warm, it's rare, hot and it's well done... it takes some practice but I find it easier than the press test. Anyway, it will be out next spring so look for it then.

Who'da thunk it? They didn't want my impression of the latest Paris couture shows, but still - I've always been a fan of this iconic mag and it was a thrill to be interviewed for their piece on slender foodies. Can't imagine why they didn't run my picture instead of Gwyneth Paltrow (kidding!). Click to read the excellent story by the talented Jamie Rosen.

October 8, 2008 we welcomed our darling baby girl Dahlia Beatrix into the world. She's beautiful and we're beyond ecstatic.

Yippee! Starting this Wednesday I'll have a thrice-monthly column in The New York Times Dining Section. It's called "A Good Appetite" and will feature a (usually) quick and (always) yummy recipe or two with a meandering explanation of how I came up with it. Check out the first column (I'm starting simple, this one is on polenta and fried eggs).

To find the answer, you can check out the September 4th issue of PEOPLE magazine (Jonbenet Ramsey is on the cover, but that has nothing to do with me), or click here www.theskinnythebook.com. Or, when it comes out, you can buy The Skinny: How to Fit into Your Little Black Dress Forever (Meredith, December, 2006). It's the book I wrote with my brilliant friend Robin Aronson (the other skinny girl in the photo). To be honest, before PEOPLE called to interview me for this piece, I'd never even flipped through the magazine, not even while getting my hair done. Now I may just have to subscribe. Yes, I'm that happy. This picture above, by the way, is not from the PEOPLE photo shoot (Michael Lavine took the photos of me at restaurant Daniel). It's a publicity shot of Robin and me for The Skinny, taken in Des Moines at the publishers. But I'm wearing the same dress as in PEOPLE. Every girl should have a favorite little black dress, and this sample-sale-scored Chaiken number is mine. May the dry cleaner never shrink it.

March, 2006- After a whole year's worth of trip to Paris to sample North African pastries, the piece finally ran in today's dining section (see my articles section.)

One thing that was left out, however, was the box I wrote, giving addresses. I've put it up here for anyone who googles.

(And, just to keep things lively, here's a photo of me eating ghribia, a semolina cookie; wish I had one now.)

Where to Sample North African Pastries in Paris:

La Bague de Kenza - 106 rue St. Maur (11e) 01 43 14 93 15
173, rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoione (11e) 01 43 41 47 02
233, rue de la Convention (15e) 01 42 50 02 97

Patisserie Malika - 80 Bd. de Menilmontant (20e) 06 25 27 68 74

Le Miyanis - 132 Bd. de Menilmontant (20e) 01 47 97 04 99
A tea room and restaurant with very good savory food as well as
sweets.

La Mosquee - 39 rue Geoffroy Saint Hilaire (5e) 01 43 31 38 20
Sip mint tea and nibble pastries in the tiled courtyard on a sunny day.

October, 2005- My book, Chef Interrupted, came out this month. There was a party, and a little bit of publicity (the Leonard Lopate show was a highlight and there’s a podcast somewhere in cyberspace should anyone want to listen; here’s a link: (www.wnyc.org.) See below for more info on this, but let’s just say I’m mighty proud.

Paris, March 2005. I just completed the most delightful assignment. I went to Paris and ate North African and Middle Eastern pastries ("patisserie Orientale" is what the Parisians call it) for three days. Alice (my "mostest" travel companion, to quote Eloise) generously helped with the cause. In turn I helped her research her article on natural wine bars. Our typical day: take the metro to a distant arrondissement, walk around in circles trying to find the address of the pastry shop, buy everything in sight, find the next place, and so on. Then stop for lunch at a natural wine bar. More pastry shops in the afternoon, then a comprehensive, comparative pastry tasting. Dinner at a wine bar. We did get a little sick of pistachio paste, semolina cake, baklava and mamoul by the end of it. Sadly, the dollar was so poorly valued that we couldn't buy anything but cheese, chocolate, wine and pastry and, ok, I snagged one cute top. You'll be able to read a full report of the pastries in the Times sometime soon...and I'll post the article here in the articles section as well...And check out Alice's website for information on the wine:(www.alicefeiring.com ).

I finally handed in my cookbook, Chef Interrupted: Chef's Recipes You Really Can Make at Home, in which I took recipes from all my favorite chefs and interrupted them at the point where they are still home cook friendly, before they become too cheffy. It's what I do when I co-author cookbooks with chefs, only more so. I assure you that none of these recipes calls for baroque techniques or equipment (no clarifying stocks, no blow torches ) or annoyingly hard to find ingredients (save for that one sweetbreads recipe, sorry). And I think that they still taste as exciting as a chef's recipe should. The book will be out next October, published by Clarkson Potter. The picture, by the way, is me at the photo shoot, salting a rack of lamb. The lovely and talented Tina Rupp did the photography.

October 2004 - Me, in Lucky Magazine! It's my house -- but, of course, none of the stuff that's supposed to belong to me actually does (the Champagne bucket is truly frightening). It was hauled in by a team of stylists who have since hauled it out. The whole thing is rather goofy, but it's still worth checking out if you happen to have a copy lying around.

Why do people say the food at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens is good? Zagat gives it a 27 for caterers. Everyone raves. But I must report the food is not a bit better than standard wedding fare—mediocre. Overcooked sole with buerre blanc. Roasted chicken breast with cranberry sauce (in June?). Dry as dust cake. However, the day was sunny and not too hot, and, most importantly, my sister was as happy as a bride can be. Of course, being the bride, she didn't eat...

To celebrate my father's birthday. I cannot relate to people (many of my friends and admired colleagues included) who think Wylie Dufresne's food is weird. He's tremendous. Granted, the food was better this time compared to the last time I dined there (just after it opened) when it was merely very good. So maybe those naysayers just need to go back. I think he's one of the most inventive, talented chefs out there today. We ate squid linguine with melon, sweet paprika mayonnaise and dried Serrano ham, which my sister, who is not the most adventurous eater (and in fact was quite miffed at not being able to get a salad…"is this the only non-Asian restaurant in NYC where you can't get a salad?" she asked) thought it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. I almost agree. But then there was the rest of the meal. Last time I was here, the foie gras terrine with marinated white anchovies was the amuse. This time it was listed as an appetizer. Naturally it sounds somewhat strange, but tastes just right, reminding me of monkfish liver in that it's rich, velvety and fishy in a good way. My brother-in-law (again not the world's most intrepid eater) described it as a little wrapped present. Other highlights included the Flatiron beef with a marrow tart, the pork belly (which the waiter introduced as a dish made famous in the NY Times…hm…), and the flawless sturgeon. Desserts also were of note. Parsnip cake sounds like grim English boarding school fare, but is a decadent, moist and caramelized creation. I barely got a bite of either the banana tart or the citrus panna cotta since my family downed those pretty quickly, but what I tasted made me want to sit at the bar one afternoon and just eat dessert for a few hours…which, if you know me, I've actually been known to do.

More rain, this time in Tyler Hill, Pennsylvania, where friends have a sprawling house at which we stay most Memorial Day Weekends. This year, we decided to hold a pig roast. The photo says it all…and for the record I ate the tail, ears and snout, but not the eyeballs.