Winter

It happens every week. As I'm selecting my Swiss chard, kale, or collards, someone inevitably sidles up to me and asks, "What do you do with that?" Then after I share a recipe idea, she usually follows up with, "To me, they're all the same."

No wonder people get confused. Every time you go to the supermarket all the winter greens are mixed together in one big, undivided, forest green section, with seemingly randomly placed signs and prices scattered above and below them.

It's like a game: Match the green on the left column with the correct name and price on the right column. Chances are you probably just select the green that your mom made when you were growing up because it's the one you actually know how to cook.

I do enjoy winter. Aside from the holidays, which can be as stressful and maddening as they are glorious, there is a natural exaggeration of the contrast between “outside” and “inside,” between the biting cold and isolation of a Michigan winter and the warmth and community to be found at home. There are very few experiences I prefer to that of coming into a warm house after spending time outside shovelling, sledding or taking a walk with the dogs; my body naturally melts into the ambient warmth, and (with a little luck) there can be hot chocolate or a cup of tea in my immediate future.

Its good to come in from the cold, but I can ratchet my pleasure level even higher if there is something delicious in the oven, scenting the house and promising good things to come. Winter is not about the quick, refreshing fruits and vegetable of spring and summer which often require just a knife and maybe a little kosher salt. Winter is a time for the slow, deep flavors that come from long cooking of root vegetables and cuts of meat too tough and complicated to be thrown on the grill. It is a perfect time for braising and stewing, which let you begin with tough (but flavorful) protein and thick, starchy vegetables and end with tender meat and vegetables as well as sauce or gravy infused with the flavors and scents of meat, vegetables, and the aromatics of your choosing.

It's that time of year again when everyone is ready to jump onto the get-fit wagon. I could easily say that I should include myself in thatgroup, but I believe it's best to start by taking small steps before diving into a plan that you might not keep up. My first step for the New Year is a healthy one, it's simply to eat more healthy foods, like whole grains and to limit my intake of sugar. I actually love whole grains, but I just don't eat them often enough. Luckily my only downfall sugar-wise is chocolate, so it's easy for me to exclude sweets and candies entirely. But I've recently found myself using agave syrup as my choice of sweetener. That was my first step, what's yours?

Eating whole grains doesn't just mean switching your morning toast from white to wheat. It means eating actual whole grains preferably in their minimally processed forms. In place of white rice try brown. Eat steel-cut oats rather than instant. Try some different whole grains, like amaranth, millet, buckwheat, barley, or bulgur. Bulgur is one of my favorites. If you've ever had Middle Eastern or Turkish food, you've probably already eaten bulgur without knowing. The salad tabbouleh and the meatballs called kofta or kefteh are made with bulgur. It's not an unrecognizable grain, bulgur is actually wheat.

I can't think of a better food for the cold days upon us than a big bowl of comforting chili. There is something special about the heat of chile peppers that has a rightful place in this stew. Chili is a great dish for bringing people together and it can feed a crowd very easily. This recipe can be doubled or tripled. It's perfect for when you have group of friends over for game-watching on Super Bowl Sunday. The best part about a recipe like this is that it can be prepared in advance and simply reheated when it's time to serve. No one needs to slave away at the stove and miss watching the game.

Chiles, specifically chile powder or dried chiles, are the key ingredients in making a robust and flavorful chili. But I go further than that and jazz things up with a combination of fresh peppers in varying stages of hotness. I like poblanos for their grassy flavor, red bell for their sweetness, cubanelle for their mild fresh flavor, and jalapeños for the kick. I broil the peppers until their skins blacken and blister. Not only does this step add flavor, it's nicer to eat the chili once the peppers have had their papery skins removed. The hotness of the jalapeños is also tamed by broiling, so the chili doesn't scream hot, but instead it hums.