I am officially obsessed with black walnuts. It may be some sort of genetic thing. As far back as I can remember, my mother was always craving black walnut ice cream. It used to make an occasional appearance at our local ice cream parlor in Santa Cruz, but since that heyday it seems to have completely fallen off their still impressive roster of flavors. Were she still alive, I could now proudly present my mom with a bowl of the stuff, made by me from walnuts gathered on a friend's land. This particular wild-crafted version may have been a one-time thing, though. Why? you ask. Well, that would be because of the incredibly labor-intensive ordeal it is to process black walnuts. After we'd endured it, we discovered that these nuts can actually be purchased at nutsonline for a mere $13 a pound. Shelled. By hand. (They must have some illegal Guatemalan children doing the work.) Anyway, G doesn't agree, but I think it was worth the effort. Full disclosure: He did most of it. But the ice cream was incredible. Divine. The best yet. Made with a recipe from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams, of course.
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We went back to visit the surgeon because G's pain level had become rather worrisome. Fortunately he doesn't have a clot or deep vein thrombosis, but he did come away with some new painkillers. (Hello, Sister Morphine.) And I came away with several treats from the hospital snack shop. What with the crutches, the pillows, the xrays and G's backpack, I couldn't bring the camera with me, but later I snapped some photos of my finds on the tiny terrace off our room. For the most part, we've been flat on our backs (healing is a team sport), watching bad movies and the occasional itunes download (loving The Killing--is AMC the new HBO?!), and, yes, eating crackers in bed. Fortunately, they've been some quality Indonesian crackers, a national specialty that puts Ritz to shame.
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Growing up in Santa Cruz, still a hippie mecca to this day, I was exposed early on to all manner of what used to be known as "health foods"—sprouts, carob, smoothies, kefir, whole grain sourdough bread. Maybe that's why I still enjoy trawling about crunchy food co-ops, peering at bags of sesame sticks, bins of millet and containers of powdered spirulina. There is almost always an assortment of carob-covered items (raisins, almonds, ginger) and sometimes these little nuggets, studded with lots of goodies. I love carob's dark, earthy richness; its mild bitterness and distinct winey taste hold up to chocolate's complexity. Carob is a species of flowering evergreen tree in the pea family that is cultivated for its edible seed pods, which are also known as "St. John's bread" because John the Baptist was said to have subsisted on them in the wilderness. Supposedly they also fed Mohammed's armies. The pod can be elongated, compressed, straight or curved and takes a full year to develop and ripen. It is the dried and sometimes roasted pod that we eat, and not the peas or seeds inside. These are called locust beans and are used for animal feed or as the source of locust bean gum, a thickening agent that is an ingredient in many  processed foods.
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I can't take credit for that: my friend Louise told me about a Rawesome food co-op in Venice, California, that sells raw milk—she's going there to stock up! I feel like the Pied Piper of natural dairy. Love it. I'm  jealous because they sell raw butter there. The farm I buy from doesn't separate the cream from the milk and I haven't quite figured out how to do that successfully. Every source says you just wait for it to rise to the top and skim it off, but that seems to leave me with something more like half-&-half. Any thoughts? Raw cheese, on the other hand, is pretty easy to find—as long as it's aged. I guess they figure any harmful bacteria will have died off, so by law raw milk cheeses have to be aged at least 60 days to be considered fit for human consumption. Whatever. You know I'll get my hands on some fresh raw milk cheese very soon. Thinking about making my own mozzarella. Yep, I'm a radical. (By the way, did I ever tell you that my father contracted bovine tuberculosis in Mexico when he was 19? Saved him from going into the service during WWII! Nowadays, even mom-&-pop farms do regular testing to make sure that doesn't happen.) So I did pick up some raw milk cheeses at Lucy's Whey in the Chelsea Market this week. I sampled them for lunch today and they were truly delicious. (I also picked up that lovely tray from Brooklyn Slate. Great packaging; would make a nice housegift for some cheese-loving host.)
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I invented this salad a few years ago on a freezing January in Boston when I was desperately trying to think of something vibrant and fresh to serve at a friend's baby shower. Something to offset the usual selection of doughy, starchy finger sandwiches and cookies. I remember feeling rather discouraged by the limited selection of mid-winter produce. Finally I picked up some firm, deeply magenta heads of radicchio, a few shiny ruby grapefruits and, on a whim, a chunk of pecorino pepato and a bag of walnuts. I wasn’t really sure where I was going with all this but it just felt right. (You're probably saying “grapefruit with cheese?!” but I swear, it’s delicious.)

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When my husband finally realized he was gluten-intolerant (after many years of horrible heartburn and at-times-comical flatulence), I had to abandon many of my special-occasion desserts. Of course there are great alternative flours from Bob's Red Mill (his all-purpose is a mix of garbanzo, fava, tapioca and sorghum) but it was also interesting to pursue baking without any flour at all. This particular cake recipe is based on ground almonds. It would also come in handy for Passover as it uses no leavening. I'm not really sure where it originated. Martha has a version with a schmancy topping. The New Yorker once featured Claudia Roden's. Of course I like mine quite a bit, even though I can't bear to use the word that best describes it:
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