Fall

If you've never had spaghetti squash before, you're in for a surprise. It's called spaghetti squash for a reason—the vegetable's flesh resembles strands of spaghetti after it has been scraped away from the skin. With a mild sweet flavor, spaghetti squash pairs well with just about any dish and can be flavored in just about any way.

Once you've roasted the squash, the flavor customization is up to you. One of my favorite ways to enjoy it is simply seasoned with salt and pepper and drizzled with olive oil. It's great as a base for meatballs. But this recipe goes a few steps further and includes some fall favorites, like dried cranberries and toasted hazelnuts. Enjoy it as an appetizer salad served warm or a cold side.

Now is the season for spaghetti squash. You'll find it sold among the other winter squashes, like butternut and acorn, in the market. Pick one up and make this super simple recipe. It's easy enough to make even on a busy weeknight.

Acorn squash has such a unique shape, that is worth showing off in recipes. When I cook with them I always try keep their features intact, so I don't peel them. Stuffed with a meat filling and baked, they resemble open hearts. When they're sliced, as in this recipe, they look like scalloped crescent moons. They are a perfect vegetable to roast because they hold their shape well particularly when the skin is left on. They can be steamed or sautéed, and even mashed like potatoes, making them a very versatile vegetable. But roasting is my favorite cooking method because it concentrates their natural flavor.

Most acorn squash recipes use sweetener to bring out the flavor. The traditional route would be brown sugar, which automatically gives it Thanksgiving flair. Instead I use maple syrup for its rich sweetness. The focus of this recipe is miso paste, the Japanese ingredient made from soybeans that is used in miso soup. The miso paste adds a salty, savory flavor. The combination of sweet and savory elevates the flavor of the squash even more. This recipe makes a very simple side for the holiday that complements a multitude of other sides and the main bird. It's quick and easy enough to put together in minutes. Just sit back and roast.

An excerpt from the latest Simon Hopkinson book "Second Helpings of Roast Chicken" published by Hyperion.

One of the most astute observations on the contrary pear was noted exactly by the great Eddie Izzard during one of his wonderful shows. Izzard's gripe and frustration are well grounded. You buy a couple of pounds of slightly under-ripe, clean, and unblemished pears, with the innocent intention of allowing them to ripen up over a few days at home. "Hmmm, yes, I will arrange them in that bowl I think, put them on the sideboard, and enjoy them with some Roquefort on Friday when Michael and Gloria are coming for supper." Then, as if by magic, that very afternoon they will suddenly decide to blotch and bloat, their insides turning to a fluffy mass of woolly flesh, bereft of both taste and texture.

In fact, so frustrating is the fresh pear that when wishing to use some to fashion a hot pear desset, such as the one that follows, I will often find myself reaching for a can of Del Monte. ("This cook he need a perfect pudding? He say yeah!") But then – and I know I'm not alone here – I have always enjoyed a can of fruit, so long as it has been stored in the fridge for a few hours to become really cold. Similarly, its perfect partner, a welter of Carnation Milk, should also be well chilled for maximum enjoyment.

This past weekend, it was a bit cold. After Levi’s flag football game, I came home, grabbed 4 cooking magazines and got under the covers. I earmarked half of each issue and not only did I read each and every one of them but I spent almost the entire next day in the kitchen.

I had been going back and forth on what desserts I was going to make this upcoming holiday season and although I have a few favorites, I was really hoping for something new. What I loved most about this tart (aside from the crust – because it is more of a cookie rather than a doughy crust) is that I sometimes find apple “pies” way too tart or too runny.

This had the texture of a Clafoutis, but didn’t taste as eggy as some I have eaten in the past. Eli topped this off with a scoop of our Cinnamon Ice Cream and he could, literally, not stop moaning. I think he ate 90% of this and he would proudly admit it, if asked.