Spring

Chances are you didn't buy a bunny for your child this Easter. I know this because according to The Humane Society, sales of bunnies are down this year. That's a good thing, since many American kids fervently love their bunnies until the Tuesday after Easter.

So that got me thinking... since fewer bunnies were purchased this Easter, there must be lots of extra carrots around. And what better way to use up carrots than in carrot cake muffins?

These muffins are a tasty collision between Morning Glory Muffins and classic carrot cake. The sweetness of the grated carrots, crushed pineapple, plump raisins and toasty coconut is balanced by earthy walnuts and spicy cinnamon and vanilla. Since carrot cake cannot be eaten without cream cheese, each muffin is topped with a heavy drizzle of pineapple cream cheese frosting that's good enough to eat by the spoonful. I know.

Going out to eat has many pleasures, not the least of which is learning a new trick to add to your own repertoire at home.

Recently at Il Fornaio, during the Lazio Regionale, we had Lattuga Romana alla Griglia or lightly grilled hearts of romaine topped with shaved pecorino pepato and Il Fornaio's creamy house dressing.

The rest of the menu was terrific, but the real stand out was the deceptively simple grilled hearts of romaine.

The dish is easy to make at home. So easy, in fact, you can serve it on the spur of the moment because it takes barely fifteen minutes to prepare.

The kitchen sink – epicenter of the kitchen and the house. We wash, prepare, cook, and serve from this spot, spending many an hour at this oasis. I love to keep little mementoes of my garden forays at the sink, reminding me of what’s blooming just outside my door. Making arrangements for my house at the sink gives me leftover blossoms, buds, and leaves to stick in my cache of containers awaiting a fresh floral look. And since the sink is such a personal, and well used piece of the home, my collection of “specials” is a close hand reminder of dear ones.

Mema’s silver tray, Aunt Irene’s mother-of-pearl salt and pepper shakers, a bud vase I stole from Mimi, a sprinkling of blue and white, a favorite Mason’s ware platter and a various and a sundry assortment of soaps stand guard as stylish and nostalgic items.

The seasons change but my assortment doesn’t too much. These items are neutral enough – silver, Depression glass, transferware or blue and white – to withstand the changing times and uphold the blooms of the current season. Red berries at Christmas, greens in the winter, spring buds and summer herbs, and autumnal hued leaves all find their place at my sink-side sanctuary.

People say we don’t have seasons in LA.  Oh but we do my friends, we do.  For example, now is Artichoke Season, a time when (if you’re lucky) you can find a farmer harvesting huge heavy artichokes with a long stem still attached.  The artichoke head that we eat is the bud stage of a giant gorgeous purple flower.  As the artichoke ages the “leaves” of the bud open ultimately revealing the choke which turns deep lavender.  For eating you want the bud pretty tightly closed.  And look for heavy artichokes.  Heaviness means freshness.  When the artichoke is freshly cut it’s cells are full of water.  As time goes by the water transpires and evaporates leaving the vegetable light and dry.

You can use the artichoke heads as you wish:  boiled, steamed, stuffed, trimmed and braised, hearts only.  But don’t throw away the stems.  If I’m feeling selfish I simply peel away the fibrous outer portion and munch the tender, crunchy, sweet and nutty inner stem.  If I want to impress then I make this artichoke stem salad.  You get one small portion for each stem.  So it’s fun to have a two course meal.  First, a pretty plated salad, then one big beautiful artichoke each to pluck, dip then scrape with your teeth.