Fall is here—already. It’s brought with it beautiful cool sleeping weather and that poignant quality, a tender melancholy. This is my favorite season, bittersweet and poised so precariously between the royal flush of summer and the dark abyss of winter. Time now to squeeze every last drop of warmth and sweetness from the world. In the garden, tomatoes, zucchini, basil and herbs are performing a glorious swan song. It’s the perfect moment for one of these verrines, a French bistro staple that I learned about in the October issue of Food & Wine, which is dedicated to the new French classics. You’re undoubtedly familiar with parfaits, those gorgeous layers of fruit, cream and frozen delights showcased so perfectly in clear footed glasses. Well, this is sort of a vegetable version of that. A fresh, chunky salad topped with a creamy layer of whipped mascarpone, and garnished with a crispy slice of prosciutto. It’s an ideal lunch, or a lovely way to welcome guests for a casual dinner party.

yellow romas, romanesco zucchini and other garden delights

Although it wasn’t a great year for gardening—cold snaps followed by blistering heat and then way too much rain—G still managed to raise lots of lovely tomatoes, including these gorgeous yellow Romas, and enough zucchini and cucumbers that I would actually despair when he crept into the kitchen with his daily harvest. It was zucchini fritters and pickles galore over here.

a crispy prosciutto chip makes the perfect garnish

Such a revelation to discover that you can fry up slices of prosciutto to a wonderful crackly crisp. They’re almost like pork chips! And they stand at attention like little soldiers in the verrines, where they add a savory, salty crunch to the mix.

Vegetables are in the zeitgeist. Pro-vegetable articles are popping up all over, like this one and this one. It seems like some people—a vocal minority?—are really starting to embrace Michael Pollan’s edict to “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Actually, I’m not so sure about the “not too much” part. We Americans are all about plenty; a surfeit, even. But look, a ton o’ vegetables is still a whole lot healthier than a ton o’ beef. And I think I’ll just take this opportunity to say once more, and probably not for the last time, I loathe the non-word “veggies.” As if somehow you’re going to make them what, more palatable? more cute? more friendly? Please. Just do me the great favor of honoring them with their lovely and true name: vegetable. Anyhoo. Eating lots of vegetables is always pretty easy during the warm months, when fresh tomatoes and corn and summer squash and lettuces and herbs are so plentiful, but what about now, as the farmers markets begin to dwindle down to a more paltry selection of onions, squash and the like? I feel a teensy bit smug knowing that my freezer is stocked with bags of local blackberries, freshly shucked corn and homemade tomato sauce. We can easily pop into the grocery store for hydroponic greens and grapes from Chile, but I urge you not to abandon seasonal eating quite so readily. Look again: local cabbage, celeriac, sweet potatoes, leeks, carrots, rutabagas, garlic, kale, collards, beets, turnips. And of course, there are always dried grains and legumes like lentils, chickpeas, barley, wild rice, buckwheat groats (kasha, to you Jews out there), farro, quinoa, brown rice, polenta and all manner of pasta. As well as a slew of nuts, seeds and dried fruits and spices to zhush it all up. The reality is, once you stop thinking of animal protein as the center of every meal, a whole gorgeous world of possibility crops (no pun intended) up.

take that, abc kitchen

I always eat a lot of vegetables, and this week I plan to be eating even more. We stopped in at the uptown Fairway on the way home from the city on Saturday evening and picked up leeks, rutabagas, celery, pomegranates, persimmons, avocado, rainbow chard, celeriac, beets (even though G doesn’t care for them), broccoli, radicchio, arugula, mushrooms and carrots. Last night I made my version of the carrot-&-avocado salad from ABC Kitchen I mentioned before. If there’s one piece of advice I can give you about eating more vegetables, it’s this: prepare them. Combine them, apply a technique, create textures and juxtapose flavors. Don’t just eat them raw or steam them and expect to be blown away. Need a little inspiration? Look at some restaurant menus, like this one and this one. Granted, you’re probably not going to make an 11-course vegetarian tasting menu a la Per Se at home (and neither am I!), but you catch my drift.

Last night I made my version of the carrot-&-avocado salad I mentioned before. At ABC Kitchen, it’s topped with a couple of spoonfuls of loose sour cream that, in the words of Jean-Georges himself, “brings together all the flavors.” I didn’t have any, so I whipped together an ounce or so of blue cheese with half a cup of buttermilk and, on a whim, stirred in a half teaspoon of xanthan gum. Yes, a little bit of molecular gastronomy! Xanthan gum is a polysaccharide that is often used in salad dressings and sauces to help prevent oil separation by stabilizing the emulsion. It also helps create the smooth mouth feel in many ice creams. It first came to my attention because of gluten-free baking, where it gives dough a bit of the stickiness that would otherwise come from gluten. It’s used in very small quantities and doesn’t change the color or flavor of foods. But back to the salad. It’s what is known as a composed salad, with separately prepared ingredients brought together on the plate: spicy roasted carrots; buttery avocado; a tangle of citrus-dressed greens; and the crunch of toasted pumpkin seeds. It hits all the taste and texture targets and is surprisingly filling. I find it addictively delicious. Let me know if you do, too.

the carrots get a nice caramelized finish

CARROT-&-AVOCADO SALAD À LA ABC KITCHEN

serves 2

For the roasted carrots:

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon honey

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon sea salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon chile powder

1/4 teaspoon cayenne

6 medium to large carrots, peeled and trimmed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Whisk together everything except the carrots until well combined. Slather all over the carrots and then place them in a roasting pan. Pour over all the remaining sauce. Bake, basting every 15 minutes, until carrots are tender, about an hour. Remove from oven and set aside.

For the citrus dressing:

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon honey

1 generous pinch sea salt

1 tablespoon olive oil

Whisk together honey, lemon juice and salt until well combined; then whisk in olive oil until emulsified. Set aside.

For the spiced pumpkin seeds:

2 teaspoons olive oil

1/4 cup raw pepitas (hulled pumpkin seeds)

1/4 teaspoon spicy pimentón

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

1/4 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon rapadura (or sugar)

In a small skillet, heat the olive oil and add the pepitas. Sprinkle over the remaining ingredients and stir to combine. Cook for a few minutes, until the seeds are lightly browned and beginning to pop. Remove from heat and spread on a plate to cool.

To assemble the salad:

4 large handfuls of baby arugula

citrus dressing

6 roasted carrots, sliced in half lengthwise

1 perfectly ripe avocado, peeled and cut into eighths

4 tablespoons sour cream, whisked to loosen a bit

spiced pepitas

In a bowl, toss the arugula with the citrus dressing until the leaves are well coated. Divide the dressed greens between two plates. Around the greens, arrange 3 sliced carrots and 4 avocado sections. Spoon 2 tablespoons of sour cream in the middle and scatter pepitas over the top.

illustrations by janice richter

It’s here again: fall, the season of transition. It bridges the vast chasm between sultry summer and winter’s austerity. Nature’s gorgeous swan song, fall reaches a grand crescendo before its blazing colors are finally extinguished. The leaves have begun to turn, with bursts of ochre and russet punctuating the drive from country to city. I have always found this time of year especially poignant, for we are witnessing the demise of all that we saw come to life these past months. It is the natural order of things, and it is bittersweet. My dear friend, the talented illustrator and creative director Jan Richter, captures the intensity of fall’s colors in these gorgeous illustrations of the season’s glories.

Fall is encroaching on our garden. Though we’ll still be getting kale, chard, broccoli and collards for weeks to come (inshallah), the basil suddenly turned punky and the last tomatoes are hanging heavy on the vine. It was a banner year here in Eldred, and G’s photos tell the story…

does anyone know what that plant is with the purple flower?

I’ll miss sleeping in the barn

the small plant in the foreground went on to produce the chiles below

these are incredibly hot!

ruby chard

heirlooms and japanese eggplant

bound for sauce

Scared you, didn’t I? You thought this was going to be about some weird condiment made with offal. This chutney is definitely assertive in its own right, but it is strictly vegetarian. It is, however, from the original nose-to-tail chef, Fergus Henderson of St. John in London. I’ve never met Fergus, nor have I eaten in any of his restaurants, but I love the man. His seminal cookbook, Nose to Tail Eating: A Kind of British Cooking, is a window into his wonderfully warm, witty and ultimately quite sensible approach to food and life. (Did I mention he has Parkinsons?) You’ve never seen a less fussy cookbook. He doesn’t get all bothered about quantities or times, but rather helps you to be an intuitive cook. Some choice phrases: “Do not be afraid of cooking, as your ingredients will know and misbehave.” (As though an onion was a young horse feeling its oats!) Eating aoli “should be an emotional experience.” And, with regard to this chutney, “There is nothing finer, after having a good stock up your sleeve, than having a reserve of chutney.” I believe we’ve conquered the stock thing, and so are ready to proceed to this very British, quite rustic and highly addictive chutney.

Although I worship Fergus, after making this chutney I might advise you to break down its component parts a bit more, or plan to cook it quite a bit longer. I wound up roughly chopping the shallots and garlic cloves (Does he mean for us to leave them whole? Even the huge ones?); pitting the dates (he doesn’t mention that); and ended up with very stringy ginger from all that grating (I think you should finely chop yours). I also added salt, which my palate missed here. You should play it by ear, so don’t try to make this when you’re on a tight schedule. It’s more the type of recipe to attempt on a lazy Sunday when you’re reading the paper and sipping a large, steaming mug of spiked cider. The chutney will bubble gently in the background and you can get up occasionally and poke around in the pot, sample a raisin or a chunk of apple, and head back to the couch. I used these jars which I discovered online, and I really like the shape. Wondering what you’ll do with all this chutney? Eat it with cheese, spread on toast, swirled into yoghurt, with roast chicken or grilled or braised meats of any sort, especially sausages! A jar of St. John chutney would also make a lovely gift to a special, deserving friend.

ST. JOHN CHUTNEY

adapted slightly from Fergus Henderson

makes enough to fill a dozen half-pint jars

spice bag (recipe follows)

1.5 kg apples, peeled, cored and chopped

1 kg shallots, peeled

10 cloves of garlic, peeled

1.5 kg tomatoes, chopped

1 kg dates

1 kg raisins

200g fresh ginger, peeled and coarsely grated

1 kg dark brown muscovado sugar, or to taste (I used it all)

600 ml malt vinegar, or to taste (ditto)

5 teaspoons sea salt

Combine all the ingredients in a very large, heavy-bottomed non-reactive pot. Cook on a gentle heat, stirring occasionally to avoid sticking at the bottom, for approximately 1 hour.

What you want is a brown chutney look and consistency—this may take some more cooking but be careful not to go too far: you do not want to end up with a brown, jammy consistency. (Glutton note: You might need to be British to actually grasp what he is talking about, but I think it has to do with retaining a chunkier quality and not letting it get all gloppy and broken down.) When satisfied, remove the spice bag and bottle in clean, sterilized jars and keep in the fridge for at least two weeks before eating. (Me again: I also processed my jars in a hot water bath for 10 minutes.)

SPICE BAG

whole black peppercorns

whole coriander seeds

whole white peppercorns

whole chiles

allspice

mace (whole, not powdered)

bay leaf

celery seeds

cloves

fennel seed

mustard seed

To avoid crunching on an emotional peppercorn or cautiously extracting a collation of sturdy seeds from your mouth, tie ingredients together in a stockinet bag. (Glutton note: Isn’t he adorable? Don’t you love the total disregard for quantities or even proportions? And what the hell is a stockinet bag? I just poured a couple of tablespoons each of this stuff into a double layer of cheesecloth and tied it up. Btw, I was out of bay leaves, and that seemed fine.)

How I’ve missed you! Though the time seems to have passed in the blink of an eye. Sadly, I never made it back to the hammock. This has been one of the busiest summers on record for me. I’ve been working non-stop for weeks but I’m not going to bore you with my whining. I feel lucky to have so many great projects. And you? Did you laze about reading novels and popping ripe berries into your mouth? At least for a few days? I hope so. Herewith, a few highlights from the past six weeks, some of which I’ll expound upon in greater detail in the days to come.

the drake

The most exciting thing to happen by far (except perhaps for my discovery that all manner of frozen slushy cocktails can be made in the ice cream maker) was that WE CLOSED ON OUR LAND! Yes! G and I are now the proud owners of 5 stunning acres in Forestburgh, New York! Our gorgeous cleared meadow, above, with its big old apple tree, slopes gently down to the rocky bank of the Rio Reservoir. On all sides is pristine, undeveloped sanctuary for the bald eagle.

the bounty

All our hard work (and G’s ceaseless pampering) paid off, and our garden exploded with a veritable cornucopia: squash, eggplant, chiles, cucumbers, tomatoes, tomatillos, scallions and tons of herbs. I’ll soon share with you many recipes using these bountiful ingredients.

dinner for 150

With pals Philip and Stephanie, we attended a dinner hosted by Outstanding in the Field. Jim Lahey of Sullivan Street Bakery was the guest chef, and we had a wonderful, fresh meal along with 150 other people at one huge table set up near a little river on Mountain Sweet Berry Farm in Roscoe, New York. More on this and G’s wonderful photos soon.

grey days

As you can see, I’m continuing with my resolution to grow in my grey hair. Although the two-tone effect is driving me nuts, I’m coming to terms with how it will ultimately look and I’m actually OK with it. The transition is painful but a supportive husband and kind friends make all the difference.

Miss Titi

It was a hot summer! And though I may not have gotten in my fair share of naps, at least someone was taking advantage of those long, lazy afternoons (and mornings and evenings). I hope you relaxed and refreshed and are ready for fall, my favorite season. I love its bittersweet quality as we witness the glories of summer fade away. Welcome back, gentle readers.

The fruits of one’s own garden just seem to taste sweeter. Our first patty pan squash, Japanese eggplants and scallions went on the grill, along with red carrots and sweet onions from the farm. With a radicchio salad in a creamy dressing, that was all we needed for dinner the other night. I made a dipping sauce for the vegetables with an earthy red miso and it truly was perfection. A grill can really change the way you eat, especially if you live in LA or some other temperate climate. As irresistible as that charred flavor can be, I want you to be aware that too much blackened food is not good for you. Burning food produces a group of substances (polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons) that are associated with cancer, cardiovascular toxicity and immune system suppression, among other adverse effects. So avoid extreme charring of your food, and don’t eat from the grill every day. Moderation really is the key. (Except when it comes to exercise, of course.) But don’t despair! You can use you grill to cook in a number of ways that don’t involve charring but still infuse your food with that delicious smoky flavor. Low and slow, as in our pulled pork for instance, or indirect cooking, which really is the best way to do chicken or other foods that tend to burn quickly.

You can even wrap things in foil—like fish—without ever subjecting them to the fire, and you can throw on your corn in the husk (you might want to remove the silk first). Try cooking in your cast-iron skillet right on the grate, which protects food from the flames but takes advantage of the hot temperatures. It’s a great way to make skillet cornbread, by the way. Here are a few recipes for cooking on the grill; the paella I’ve been meaning to try ever since the Times published this piece by Sam Sifton two years ago. Perhaps this will be the summer…

PAELLA ON THE GRILL

from the New York Times, August 2008

serves 8

A handful of wood chips, such as fruit or hickory (optional)

One large pinch saffron

2 1/4 quarts low-sodium chicken broth

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 pounds chicken thighs

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 pound chorizo, cut into half-moons

1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic

4 cups short-grain rice, such as arborio

1 1/2 pounds jumbo shrimp, peeled, deveined chopped

1 cup fresh or frozen peas

2 dozen littleneck clams, cleaned

2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley (optional).

If using, soak the wood chips in water. In a large pot, stir the saffron into the chicken broth and set over medium heat. Once hot, lower the heat and keep warm.

In an 18-inch paella pan, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. (A large, wide, shallow, flameproof saucepan may be substituted — or, in a pinch, an enameled Dutch oven.) Season the chicken thighs all over with salt and pepper and brown on all sides in the hot oil. Transfer to a plate. Cook the chorizo in the same pan until it starts to brown. Transfer to a second, paper-towel-lined plate. Remove the pan from the heat.

Light a charcoal grill with about a large cereal box’s worth of charcoal. Return the paella pan to the stove and set over medium-high heat. When hot, add the onion and cook until translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, then add the rice and stir to coat. Season with salt and pepper.

Bring the stock, paella pan, chicken, chorizo and other ingredients to a table near the grill. When the fire is at its peak heat (all of the coals are lit, and you can hold your hand over the hottest part of the fire for only a few seconds), quickly stir the shrimp, chorizo and peas into the rice, then add 2 quarts of stock. Add the clams hinge-side up so that when they open in the heat, their juices are released into the rice. Nestle the chicken on top. Using thick gloves and a pair of tongs, carefully remove the grill grate. Drain the wood chips and drop them into the fire. Quickly replace the grill grate and set the paella pan on the grate. Cover the grill and cook the paella until all the liquid has absorbed, 25 to 30 minutes. If the rice is underdone, add another cup of stock and return to the fire for 5 to 7 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste and, if you choose, top with parsley.

GRILLED VEGETABLES WITH MISO SAUCE

Not really a recipe, more like an idea to get you started.

Fresh organic vegetables that can hold up to grilling, such as:

Japanese eggplants (whole); summer squash like zucchini, patty pan, etc. (cut in half); firm tomatoes (cut in half); sweet and hot peppers (whole); onions and scallions (whole, unless the onions are very big); carrots (cut in half); cabbage (wedges)

Brush vegetables with olive oil and grill over a medium flame. Sprinkle with sea salt and serve with miso sauce on the side.

1/2 red miso

1-2 teaspoons dark sesame oil

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon soy sauce

1-2 teaspoons chile sauce

2 tablespoons honey

1 teaspoon minced garlic, optional

1/4 cup warm water

Whisk all ingredients together and adjust hot, sweet and salt flavors to your taste. Add more warm water if you prefer a thinner texture.

GRILLED CAESAR

serves 2

1 1 /2  tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon mayonnaise

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

juice of 1 large lemon

2 teaspoons anchovy paste

pinch of dried mustard

1-2 cloves garlic, minced

1/3 cup grated parmigiano reggiano

sea salt and pepper

1 large romaine heart

1/2 baguette, halved lengthwise

Whisk together all ingredients except romaine and baguette. Season dressing to taste with salt and pepper.

Cut romaine lengthwise in half, and brush cut side with olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt and pepper. Brush baguette with olive oil.

Place romaine and bread cut-side down on medium-hot grill and cook 1-2 minutes, until charred, but not overly wilted.

Serve romaine hearts with grilled bread drizzled with dressing. You can also slice the lettuce and dice the bread for a more traditional presentation.

GRILLED PEACHES

Some suggestions for how to eat this most delicious of summer treats.

Halve peaches, remove pits and brush with olive oil, neutral oil or melted butter. Sprinkle with sea salt and pepper for savory preparations; with brown sugar or honey for sweet ones. Over a hot grill, on an oiled grate, cook peaches until lightly charred, about 2 minutes per side.

Serve with ricotta, fresh raspberries and mint; with pecorino and prosciutto; with roasted or grilled pork or duck; with grilled pound cake, drizzled with balsamic; chopped with tomatoes for a delicious relish, and on and on…

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome The Vegetables—making their first public appearance, still dewy and radiating the blush of youth! All the months of labor are paying off. The convergence of so many elements—sun, rain, nitrogen, compost, vigilance, love—has worked its wonderful alchemy. In a beautiful act of symmetry that I find rather awesome, the fruits of our toil go back into our bodies. I hope you enjoy this little photo gallery of vegetable portraits.

I’ve got so much to share with you! This is a very exciting time of year, as all sorts of things start to happen out in the garden. On Saturday—a sweltering, faux-summer day—we visited our local organic nursery, Silver Heights Farm, where they specialize in wonderful heirlooms and rare varieties. (They have a great website, and a booth at the farmers’ market in NYC’s Union Square.) We haven’t gotten it together yet to start things from seed, and we are so spoiled by their incredible greenhouses fairly bursting with baby plants. G and I are like kids in a candy store, and we tend to overbuy. He took some beautiful pictures of the initial planting, mostly lettuces, a few peas, onions, shallots, cauliflower, broccoli, lots of kale and chicories, and fennel. Cucumbers, tomatoes, Japanese eggplant, tomatillos and summer squash will go in later. I’m also posting an in-progress shot of one end of the garden. You can see one of the places we are in the process of installing flagstone paths, as well as the area marked off for a new raised bed.

snowpeas and their bamboo stakes

fennel

note chic coveralls and camo gloves (disregard frazzled hair)

the black currants are in bloom!

the wooden tubs are for tomatoes; that’s our rhubarb patch sticking up behind them

scallions—each little stalk is a separate plant

walla walla onions

red russian kale

If you want to make corned beef and cabbage for St. Patrick’s Day, you’re already too late! Sheesh. I went to investigate some recipes and saw that most call for brining the meat for 8 days. We’ve got 4. My brisket is very small (about 2 pounds), since it’s just for G and me, but this is a great meal to feed a bunch of people—like a family with 6 kids perhaps? I wanted to get this post up quickly, in case you’d like to go to the market today and get your supplies. This recipe looks long and involved but it’s actually pretty simple. I just made the pickling spices and the brine and got my meat squared away in about 12 minutes. There are hurricane warnings and flood alerts in effect today in Sullivan Country, but for some reason we’re still determined to hit the road for a pilgrimage north to Delicacies of the Delaware—a fantastic smokehouse where we like to stock up on wonderful things from time to time. Hopefully we won’t float away…

HOMEMADE IRISH CORNED BEEF & VEGETABLES

Adapted from Bon Appetit

serves 4-6

BRINE
6 cups water
2 cups lager beer
11/2 cups coarse kosher salt
1 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/4 cup pickling spices (recipe below)
1 6- to 8-pound flat-cut beef brisket, trimmed, with some fat remaining

PICKLING SPICES

2 cinnamon sticks, broken

1 tablespoon mustard seeds

2 teaspoons black peppercorns

1 teaspoon whole cloves

1 teaspoon whole allspice

1 teaspoon juniper berries

1 teaspoon crumbled whole mace

1 teaspoon dill seeds

4 dried bay leaves

1 small piece dried ginger

Pour 6 cups water and beer into large deep roasting pan. Add coarse salt; stir until dissolved. Add sugar; stir until dissolved. Mix in pickling spices. Pierce brisket all over with tip of small sharp knife. Submerge brisket in liquid, then top with heavy platter to weigh down. Cover and refrigerate 4 days.

Remove brisket from brine. Stir liquid to blend. Return brisket to brine; top with heavy platter. Cover; refrigerate 4 days. Remove brisket from brine. Rinse with cold running water. Wrap corned beef in plastic, cover with foil, and refrigerate.

CORNED BEEF & VEGETABLES
1 12-ounce bottle Guinness stout
4 bay leaves
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
2 whole allspice
1 dried chile de árbol, broken in half

Cheesecloth
3 medium turnips or rutabagas, peeled, quartered
8 unpeeled medium white-skinned or red-skinned potatoes (about 3 pounds)
6 medium carrots, peeled
4 medium onions, peeled, halved through root ends
2 medium parsnips, peeled, cut into 2-inch lengths
1 2-pound head of cabbage, quartered

Place corned beef in a very large, wide pot. Add stout and enough water to cover by 1 inch. Wrap cheesecloth around bay leaves, coriander seeds, allspice, and chile, enclosing completely, and tie with kitchen string to secure. Add spice bag to pot with beef. Bring just to a boil then reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until beef is tender, about 2 1/4 hours. Transfer beef to large baking sheet.

Add turnips and all remaining vegetables to liquid in pot; bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium and boil gently until all vegetables are tender, about 25 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer vegetables to baking sheet with beef. Return beef to pot and rewarm 5 minutes. Discard spice bag.

Cut beef against grain into 1/4-inch thick slices. Arrange beef and vegetables on platter. Serve with Horseradish Cream and Guinness Mustard (recipes follow).

HORSERADISH CREAM

1 cup sour cream or crème fraiche

6 tablespoons prepared white horseradish (about 4 ounces)

1 tablespoon finely chopped dill pickle

1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives or green onion tops

Whisk all ingredients in small bowl to blend. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours. (Can be made 2 days ahead.)

GUINNESS MUSTARD

1/2 cup coarse-grained Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons regular Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons Guinness stout or other stout or porter

1 tablespoon minced shallot

1 teaspoon golden brown sugar

Whisk all ingredients in small bowl to blend. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours. (Can be made 2 days ahead.)