I have spent the last week sapped of all energy, both emotional and physical. I want to write. No, I desperately want to write. I love my topic, my research, my writing partner, the feeling of waking up in the morning and dressing to sit in a cold library all day even when northern Mississippi has been under a heat advisory for the last week with no sign of letting up soon. But then I remember that at 1:30, I must stop everything and prepare to lecture on, discuss, and enjoy elegiac poems of the Middle Ages. I know that literature is best retained when enthusiastically-presented. And I enjoy the teaching–my students are great, thoughtful and smart. But summer is intense. And I know they’re getting it–despite the yawns and/or blank stares. That’s normal. We know that. I know that.

But I am so tired. I gulp down the first 30 minutes of cocktail hour. (Perhaps I should learn to quench my thirst with water and then move to vodka.) But this is what I mean by weeknight wine and everyday indulgences. When I recover from class and exit the shower after the gym, there’s nothing like a cold glass of white wine or a vodka tonic waiting for you on the kitchen counter. Partners, take note: If your spouse is in academia, or even if he or she has simply been working hard, a cold drink prepared without being asked is better than diamonds (or, I don’t know, tools? Pardon the essentialism.). For a few moments in an otherwise long and full day, there is nothing there but you, refreshed though exhausted, and a friend who is not going to ask you about reading practices of nineteenth-century women in the American South or if the rhyme scheme of an English sonnet is going to be on the final. You are not being asked to create, convey, or in any way be responsible for another person’s enlightenment. You can simply take a cold sip of something fruity, spicy, or bubbly, and–for a short time–understand the essence of luxury.  Best wishes to those of you in my shoes, to those of you–and I know there are many–whose schedules are even more demanding. And cheers.

White Wine Spritzer (courtesy of Moma Donna)

Fill a glass with ice. Fill it 1/3 with white wine (I like sauvignon blanc), then 2/3 with Diet Sprite or 7-Up. Add a squeeze of lime. Stir, enjoy, and repeat. Not to the point that you can’t finish tomorrow’s PowerPoint lecture, but enough that you forget you have to make one for an hour or two.

So this week I decided to do something about it. Since I’ve finally dedicated myself to my dissertation–meaning I’ll be in my office a lot–I thought I’d treat myself to a week of interesting lunches. Since I didn’t happen to think of this before I sent Dan to the store this morning, though, I had to make do with whatever was in the pantry. This is what I came up with, and to be honest, I’m pretty thrilled with it. It’s spicy–cut back on the red pepper flakes or chipotle powder if you don’t want so much heat–but it’s such an interesting variation on chili. The chickpeas and barley have such a mild, nutty flavor that they really offset the spice, making this more of a spicy tomato soup than a chili. The sweet corn adds an interesting texture and brightness to this soup. I’ve already portioned this into single servings, and I am looking forward to tomorrow morning, placing this in the fridge in the mailroom and working all day, knowing it’s there waiting for me.

So much better than a sandwich.

Barley and Chickpea Chili

(Use vegetable broth if you’d like to make this vegetarian.)

1 cup uncooked pearl barley

1-2 T olive oil

1 onion, diced

2 large carrots, diced

2 celery stalks, diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 T chili powder

1 T cumin

1 tsp. dried oregano

1/2 tsp. ground coriander

1/2 tsp. smoked paprika

1/2 tsp. chipotle chile powder

1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

1 tsp. kosher salt

1 (28-oz.) can crushed tomatoes

1 (14-0z.) can low-sodium chicken broth

2-3 cups water, as needed

1 can chickpeas

1/2 cup frozen corn

1. PLace barley in a small bowl. Cover with water; let soak for 1 hour. Drain; set aside.

2. In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onions, carrot, celery, and garlic, and a small pinch of salt. Saute until tender. Add the spices and stir until well-mixed. (They will become quite fragrant–you may want to open a window.) Add broth, 2 cups water, and barley. Bring to a boil, then simmer half-covered for 20 minutes.

3. Add crushed tomatoes. Bring to a boil, then simmer, half-covered, for 20 minutes. Taste–add more water if too salty or spicy.

4. Add chickpeas and corn. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 20 minutes, half-covered.

Serve with optional toppings: cheddar, sour cream, scallions, etc.

Enjoy!

In her Preface to How to Be a Domestic Goddess: Baking and the Art of Comfort Cooking, Nigella Lawson writes, “Sometimes … we don’t want to feel like a postmodern, postfeminist, overstretched woman but, rather, a domestic goddess, trailing nutmeggy fumes of baking pie in our langorous wake.” (What I wouldn’t give for a langorous wake.) Allow me to add a few more “posts-” that inhabit my daily life. Postsouthern. Posthuman. I study literature, and theoretical realities are my bread and butter–in class. I even study food, but there’s nothing like actually making it to remind me that life’s not a theory or a post. I am mesmerized by the slow, pillowy rise of a loaf of bread dough. I watch with wintery awe the snowy sifting of powdered sugar or flour or midnight-hued cocoa. I love that the smell of lemon can evoke so many memories and emotions and seems perfectly at home in any season or at any holiday. So I hope you’ll stop in now and again as I work through the bread and pastry cookbooks on my shelves that I’ve been waiting to have time to use. I don’t have time. Who ever does? So why not now–instead of waiting for an era of post-baking.

My favorite cake, the one that I bake time and time again without fail, is the cake Nigella Lawson calls “My Mother-In-Law’s Madeira Cake.” It is soft and dense and lemony, and just thinking about it makes me smile. And it’s rustic-looking, baked in a loaf pan with an elegant crisp top and inviting scent. It looks like real food, not a contrived gimmick, and it is luscious. I’ve made it so many times; I can’t remember if it’s ever lasted long enough to make it to film.

So here it is, simply:

Madeira Cake

(adapted from Nigella Lawson’sHow To Be a Domestic Goddess). And no, I didn’t leave anything out–there’s no madeira in this madeira cake.

1 cup softened unsalted butter
3/4 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
grated zest and juice of one large lemon
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/3 cups cake flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. salt

Preheat the oven to 350.

Butter a 9 x 5-inch loaf pan, or line with parchment paper.

Cream the softened butter and 3/4 cup sugar, and add the lemon zest. Add the room-temperature eggs, one at a time, with a tablespoon of the flour for each. Then gently mix in the rest of the flour and, finally, the lemon juice. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Sprinkle with sugar right before putting it into the oven, and bake for 1 hour or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Remove to a wire cooling rack, and let cool in pan before turning out.

Makes 8-10 slices.

Variations: You can certainly add more lemon, even some poppyseeds or caraway seeds. Nigella even suggests adding some chopped dried fruit, such as strawberries or cherries. Or a smear of Nutella or melted dark chocolate could add some luxury. Set up a dessert bar, with bowls of all of the above. I must admit, though, I’ve never tried. The unadulterated cake is enough for me.

I’ve now passed my prospectus defense, which means that I get to begin the dissertation. Everyone I say this to laughs at my verb choice: “get to.” “Ah,” they’ll say knowingly to the wise academics surrounding them, “she’ll learn soon enough.” Perhaps I will, but for now I am going to enjoy the process. Day in and day out, I get to read cookbooks. Wonderful, understudied gems from centuries past. How can this be bad? I curl up in my new reading chair (seen in the background of this photo), pour a mild mug of coffee and milk, and relax into a good book. And because sometimes I want something a little sweet, I developed this recipe. It’s a little sweet, a little spicy (from the cinnamon), and so very good. Even sipped right before bed, it is calming. Garnish with a cinnamon stick if you are serving these for company (or if you want to treat yourself with a little whimsy).

My Vanilla-Almond Cafe au Lait is a twist on a classic Cafe au Lait. If you want this in true New Orleans-style, be sure to use a chicory coffee. The flavored steamed milk mixture can be enjoyed on its own, of course, for those who do not enjoy, or simply do not want, coffee.

Vanilla-Almond Cafe au Lait

(Yield: 8 servings)

4 cups brewed strong coffee

4 cups Vanilla-Almond Steamed Milk (recipe below)

1. Combine 1/2 cup coffee with 1/2 cup vanilla-almond steamed milk, stir and enjoy!

Vanilla-Almond Steamed Milk

(Yields: 4 servings, if drinking without coffee. This recipe can easily be doubled)

4 cups 1% milk

1/4 cup sugar (if you are drinking this without adding coffee, decrease sugar by at least one-fourth)

1 (3-inch) cinnamon stick

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1/8 tsp. almond extract

Optional garnishes: ground cinnamon or nutmeg, cinnamon sticks

1. Combine milk and sugar in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Heat (but do not boil), stirring until sugar dissolves. Add cinnamon stick; heat for 5 minutes more (do not boil); stir occasionally.

2. Remove pan from heat and allow to sit for 20 minutes. Add the extracts. At this point, you can refrigerate the mixture for up to one day. OR, if serving immediately, reheat 5 minutes (until steaming–hence the name of the beverage). Pour 4 8-oz. servings into small coffee mugs; garnish with ground cinnamon and/or nutmeg, and/or cinnamon sticks.

(Adapted from Cooking Light, December 2009)

While I love this casserole, my favorite part might be somewhat surprising: I love the leftover Corn Flakes. I think I love Corn Flakes more than potato chips. They even give my beloved Cheetos a run for their money. I’ll sit on the couch after a long day of research or teaching and watch Real Housewives of Orange County while snacking on handfuls of Corn Flakes–and then have to brush away the crumbs of evidence and attempt to look more refined by pouring a glass of wine. Those contradictions in our taste are what make us interesting, though, right? My husband, for example, will only eat spaghetti when it is accompanied by a large glass of cold milk. I think the combination is disgusting, but it is pure nostalgia to him, and this somehow makes me love him more. Perhaps it’s the lack of hang-up about what others might find strange, but I am always drawn to people who tell me their secret food passions.

But back to the casserole. I did lighten it, using reduced fat ingredients wherever available. The result was creamy and rich and in no way tasted “light.” I recommend you try it. Another of my theories about food: Authenticity is appropriate in old cookbooks and scholarly talks–not on your weeknight plate. You are no less southern if you eat reduced fat sour cream or mayo, and you are no more southern because you have the high cholesterol that results from eating your heritage. Lighten up! Put your own spin on things–trust me, it feels good. And it tastes amazing.

Hashbrown Casserole

I am including the lightened version in parentheses to the side of each ingredient.

1 (2 lb.) bag frozen shredded hash brown potatoes, thawed in the fridge overnight (or for a few hours on the counter)

3 T unsalted butter, divided (2 now, 1 for the topping)

1/2 onion, minced

1 cup sour cream (reduced-fat works well)

1 (10.75 oz.) can cream of chicken soup (98% fat-free)

2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese

1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt

1/2 tsp. ground black pepper

2 cups Corn Flakes cereal, coarsely crushed (just pour into a bowl and smash ‘em with your fist)

1. If you are baking the casserole right away, preheat the oven to 350 F. Remember, you can make the casserole (minus the topping) ahead of time, place it in the casserole dish, and keep it covered in the fridge until you’re ready to bake.

2. Dump the thawed shredded hash browns, minced onion, 2 T melted butter, cheese, sour cream, and cream of chicken soup, salt, and pepper in a large bowl and stir until well combined. Spray a 9 x 13-inch baking dish with cooking spray. Pour potato mixture into the casserole dish. (Cover and refrigerate if baking later.)

3. Make the topping: Mix the corn flakes with 1 T melted butter and sprinkle over the casserole. Bake at 350 for 45-55 minutes. Serve and enjoy!

Yield: 10-12 servings.

(If you use the lightened ingredients, each serving–of 12–should be around 220 calories and 12 grams of fat. serve alongside a roasted chicken breast and green salad, or an egg white omelet, and you still have a very healthy meal!)

I hope you try these. They’re easy, fun, and delicious. One quick note: When you roll them between your palms, they will get sticky. Very sticky. Keep a wet washcloth nearby and wipe off your palms after every 3-4 cookies, or when you notice the dough beginning to look kind of like velcro (you’ll see what I mean). You will need to wash your hands a couple of times as well. Trust me, this is the hardest part of these cookies–repeated washing of hands. Not bad, in my book.

Espresso Crinkles

This recipe should yield about 2 dozen cookies.

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 1/4 cups powdered sugar, divided

1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1 1/4 tsp. baking powder

1/8 tsp. salt

5 1/4 tsp. vegetable/canola oil

1 1/2 oz. unsweetened chocolate, chopped

1 tsp. instant coffee or espresso granules

3/4 cup packed brown sugar (I would use light brown sugar)

3 T light-colored corn syrup

1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

2 lg. egg whites, lightly beaten

1. Combine flour, 3/4 cup powdered sugar, cocoa, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl–stir with a whisk until well-blended.

2. Combine oil and chocolate in a saucepan over medium heat; stir constantly until chocolate melts. Add the coffee granules and stir until blended. Pour into a large bowl and allow to cool for 5 minutes or so.

3. To chocolate mixture in large bowl, add brown sugar, corn syrup, and vanilla. Stir in the egg whites with a whisk. Fold flour mixture into egg mixture; stir gently until just combined. Cover and chill for several hours or overnight. (This will make the cookies easy to roll and less sticky.)

4. 20 minutes prior to baking, preheat the oven to 350 F. Line two baking sheets with parchment.

5. Pour remaining 1/2 cup powdered sugar into a shallow dish. Roll dough into 1-inch balls. Dredge them in the powdered sugar and place them 2 inches apart on baking sheets. Bake at 350 until the tops are cracked and almost set. Cool on pans several minutes until set; move to cooling racks to cool completely.

(adapted from Cooking Light, December 2008)

I crave this casserole throughout the year, but my adorable traditionalist tells me that it is only a Christmas morning thing. I can understand–increase demand by decreasing availability. That meant, however, that I needed to find a similar breakfast treat that could be my specialty, that was also quick and easy to prepare any morning and, preferably, made great leftovers. Found it.

These sausage rolls have the same meaty, cheesy, bready goodness of Donna’s casserole but in handheld form–they look like cinnamon rolls. And they can be adapted to anything you have in the house. I used reduced-fat pork sausage and Gruyere, but you could just as easily use full-fat sausage, turkey sausage, even Italian sausage, chorizo, or andouille! And what cheese wouldn’t taste good here? Gruyere tastes like Swiss mixed with the nuttiness of parmesan or provolone, but it is pretty expensive unless it happens to be on sale, as it was this week. These rolls would be amazing with sharp cheddar, or try provolone with sweet Italian sausage. What about andouille and parmesan, or chorizo with a Mexican blend you have leftover from taco night? I challenge you to find a combination that doesn’t work–I doubt it’s possible. If you’re a vegetarian, you could even saute some mushrooms and onions with thyme and sage and use those instead of the sausage, a sort of breakfast spin on French onion soup. Not a pork fan? Try shredded turkey or chicken with chopped green chiles and Mexican blend cheese. I’d love to know what you come up with!

The French bread dough comes in a tube and is shelved with the refrigerated crescent rolls and biscuits–I had no idea this existed until last year when I made some orange rolls.  (If they’re out of French bread dough, I bet you could make these with crescent rolls, though it would probably only make 8 instead of 12.) The most difficult part here is unrolling the French bread dough, since it’s not meant to be unrolled (as crescent rolls, for example, are). There is, however, a seam running lengthwise. Just ease it apart and keep working the dough out with your fingers. It is easiest to do this if you’ve just taken it out of the fridge and it’s still cold.  Don’t worry if it’s not even–you can massage it into a rectangle when you’re done opening it up.

Serve with strong coffee and some citrus fruit. Heat up any leftovers for great on-the-run breakfasts later in the week. Enjoy!

Breakfast Sausage Rolls

1 (11-oz.) tube French bread dough

8-oz. reduced-fat pork sausage (or any sausage or meat, crumbled or chopped small)

Couple pinches dried sage

1 T butter, melted

1/4 tsp. salt

3/4 cup (3-0z.) Gruyere, shredded (or any cheese you prefer)

1. Preheat oven to 350 F. Coat a 13 x 9-inch pan with cooking spray; set aside.

2. Cook sausage over medium heat, crumbling it as it cooks. Mix in the dried sage. Remove from pan when fully cooked; set aside to cool.

3. Gently unroll French bread dough by finding the seam and prodding the dough open with your fingers, long side facing you. Once open, reshape it into a rectangle (about 13 x 8 ) if needed. Brush with butter, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle with sausage (again leaving a border). Sprinkle with salt. Add the shredded cheese.

4. Gently roll up the dough, starting with the long side. Pinch the seams on the ends as you go. Don’t worry about rolling it too tightly–the dough needs a little room to expand when it cooks. Once rolled, make sure the long seam is on the bottom, and cut off 1/2 inch on both ends–throw away. Using a serrated knife, gently cut the log in half, then cut each of those logs in half again. You should have four pieces. Cut each of those into three pieces, to make a total of 12 pieces. Don’t worry if some filling comes out–just push it back in when you’ve placed them in the pan.

5. Place the rolls in the pan, spaced about 1 1/2 inches apart. Bake at 350 F for 28 minutes or until browned. (Start checking after 25 minutes.) Serve and enjoy!

(adapted from Cooking Light, October 2009)

Fast forward a few days from the image of our satiated selves lounging near a fireplace in the den. With Christmas vacation finally over, all that was left for us was the long drive back to Oxford. Dan was fighting a cold. I was fighting the urge to neglect all scholarly duties and watch What Not to Wear reruns until I couldn’t stand the sight of a store or hear the phrase “Shut Up!” without cringing or wondering if my trousers dropped properly from my hips straight down to the floor to create a longer leg line. Either way, both of us knew that we had obligations that began the moment we got out of the car after twelve hours of forced “just-sitting.” We also knew that we needed a warm, hearty, healthy dinner to kick-start our “drop the Christmas pounds” initiative. Dan asked specifically for Beef Stew with Vegetables. Not beef and barley, no beans or grains, just “Beef Stew with Vegetables.” As his birthday present to me had been three Cooking Light cookbooks, I felt well equipped to master a light version of his request. I did not realize when I set out, however, that beef stew could taste like this.

The garlic broth makes the whole thing. Usually when I make stew we add Tiger Sauce or hot sauce or something to make it slightly more vinegary, to give it a little more “pop.” The garlic removes that need completely–it provides warmth and depth, even a bit of sweetness (from the slow cooking) that condiments usually add. Combined with the tomatoes, it tastes almost spanish–you can hear the faint clicking of castanets in the background, as though you are cozily enjoying the party from afar. I know–who knew soup could be so transcendent?

So here is the recipe. I adapted and tinkered and played with it until I got it just right for us, but feel free to add, omit, or substitute anything you like. This was originally a Cooking Light March 2006 recipe, but it barely resembles it anymore. Oh, and it serves 8–or 2 for a couple of days. Don’t let the ingredient list scare you–it is long, but you put it all together and walk away for a couple of hours, just basking in the scent of comfort. Enjoy with a glass of red wine, a hearty beer, whatever you prefer–the choices are endless.

Beef Stew with Potatoes and Garlic Broth

Cooking spray

Olive oil

16 garlic cloves, crushed and peeled (no need to chop, just smash well with a knife)–about 1 head of garlic

2 large onions, chopped

1 1/2-2 lbs. boneless chuck roast (or even a package of beef stew meat–chop larger pieces in half)

1 cup dry red wine

4 large carrots, chopped

2 large stalks celery, chopped

Fresh herbs: 2 tsp. chopped fresh rosemary, 2 tsp. chopped fresh thyme

Dried herbs: 1/2 tsp. dried basil, Pinch red pepper flakes, 2 dried bay leaves

About 2 tsp. salt, to taste

1 tsp. ground black pepper

1 1/4 cups water, divided

1 can (14-oz.) low-sodium beef broth

2 (14.5-oz.) cans diced tomatoes, undrained (just pour ‘em in)

3 large baking potatoes, peeled, cut into 1-inch pieces

1 T flour

Good crusty bread for dipping

1. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium heat. Coat pan with cooking spray and a tsp. of olive oil. Add garlic; saute 1-2 minutes or until it just begins to brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and place in a large bowl. Add more cooking spray to pan. Add onion and a small pinch of salt; saute 3 minutes or until tender. Add the onion to the garlic in the bowl. Add a little more oil, then add the beef to the pan and sprinkle with a small pinch of salt; saute 5 minutes or until browned on all sides. Add this (and any accumulated juices) to the garlic bowl.

2. Add wine to the pan; bring to a boil and scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Add beef mixture. Stir in carrots, celery, rosemary, thyme, basil, red pepper flakes, large pinch of salt, pepper, and bay leaves. Stir in 1 cup water, broth, and tomatoes. Bring to a boil and cook for 1 minute. Reduce heat to low; cover and simmer for about an hour.

3. While the soup is simmering, peel and slice your potatoes, which will go in next. Place them, chopped, in the bowl the garlic was in (to save on dirty dishes) and cover with water. This will keep them from browning and will allow you to clean up your workspace, and will save you having to chop them later. (The more work you do at the start of the recipe, the less frazzled you’ll become later. And the more you can relax and let that glass of wine take effect.)

4. After an hour, stir 1 T flour into 1/4 cup water until smooth; add to stew (this will thicken it a bit). Drain potatoes; add these to the stew and stir them in. Bring to a boil, then cover and let simmer for another 30 minutes or so, until potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork. Discard bay leaves and serve with bread! (You can add chopped parsley if you wish.)

If there is one rule I live my cooking and baking life by, it is this: time-consuming and complicated are not the same thing. Some recipes, such as a recipe for beef stew I’ll be posting soon, do take a few hours, but they are “hands off” hours; in other words, you chop a bunch of stuff, pour stuff in a pan, turn on heat, and let it go. As Alton Brown says, “Just walk away!” See? Hands off. These macaroons are another such recipe. They really could not be more simple: Mix a bunch of stuff in a bowl, scoop out onto a cookie sheet, and bake. The catch for many people is the baking time: almost 30 minutes per pan. People will look at the number and tell me, “I can’t make these, they’re too hard.” These are actually easier to make than any chocolate chip cookie recipe I’ve ever tried, but you do need a little time. Give them a try when you’re cleaning some Saturday–think of them as your timer. While one pan bakes, clean the bathrooms. Second pan? Vacuum. Third … you get the idea. How great would that be, to have a clean house and cookies as a reward? Or if cleaning and cooking seems all too domestic, pay bills or finally respond to those emails you’ve been putting off or write a dissertation chapter–whatever you need to get done. It’s all easier in 25-minute increments. You don’t have to dedicate a whole day to baking to indulge–make it part of your routine. You’ll only have to clean a few extra bowls, and forget scented candles–these smell amazing!

The long baking time at a low temperature keeps the coconut from burning. Set the timer for 23 minutes and keep checking them after that. It may take the full thirty, but they will go from browned to burned quickly. You want a nice golden color on most of them–the coloring will not be even. This is fine. Let them cool, drizzle with dark chocolate, and enjoy!

A few notes on this recipe: The parchment paper is a must here. Not only does it save you having to wash the baking sheets (a hassle, since they’re big and unwieldy and, I don’t know about you, but I always end up dousing myself with soapy water) but it keeps the cookies from sticking and keeps the table clean when you’re drizzling them with chocolate. Just move the parchment paper, cookies and all, to a cooling rack, and do not remove the cookies until they have cooled and the chocolate has hardened. For the orange peel, use either a Microplane grater or even a bar zester (you know, those things that look like brass knuckles for smurfs?) and then chop the strips of zest. Finally, this recipe makes a ton–plan to give some away. You won’t want to at first, but you can’t finish the 50 or so this recipe will yield. Probably.

Ambrosia Macaroons

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

3/4 cup sugar

1/8 tsp. salt

2 tsp. finely grated orange peel

3 large eggs

24 oz. sweetened flaked coconut

6 oz. bittersweet chocolate, melted

Equipment needed: baking sheets, parchment paper

1. Preheat oven to 325 F. Position a rack in the center of the oven. Line 3 rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper.

2. Using an electric mixer (stand or hand-held), beat butter in a large bowl until it is smooth. Add sugar and salt; beat until incorporated. Beat in the orange peel, then the eggs, one at a time. Fold in the coconut.

3. Drop batter onto prepared sheets by tablespoonfuls, spacing 1 1/2 inches apart.

4. Bake macaroons, one sheet at a time, until golden on bottom and browned in spots, 25-30 minutes, depending on your oven (check after 23 or so). Cool completely on the baking sheet, then move to a cooling rack or flat surface.

5. Melt chocolate in the microwave in 30-second increments. Using a fork, drizzle chocolate over cooled macaroons. Chill until chocolate is firm, about 30 minutes.

(Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit, December 2008)

So anyway, I’m not doing such a great job of this whole “recipe diary” thing yet, but bear with me–I’m getting there. I promise some homemade indulgences soon. But the point of this post (I have decided as I’ve been writing) is that sometimes, for many reasons, cooking is truly an impossibility in our daily lives. My ultimate Tuesday feast is Mexican and a margarita–a habit I picked up in Texas and happily never left behind. What is yours? Dan might answer a great beer (generously bestowed by great friends in Atlanta) or glass of bourbon before bed. With no time to cook, or that feeling that one more minute on your feet might cause your bones to crack and your world to collapse (pardon the drama, but when you’re exhausted, all emotions are heighened, aren’t they?), what is your ultimate take-out indulgence? The one that can right your world from the crunch of the first tortilla chip?