A batch of fresh meatballs in sauce is one of the quickest ways to serve a crowd (or hungry family) a fresh, home-cooked meal without laboring too much. Add a starch if you please (this dish works particularly well with roasted sweet potatoes), and a salad and voila! Dinner is served.

If you're making this for kids or anyone who can't eat spicy food, you might consider opting to use a few spoonfuls of the adobo sauce the chipotle comes packed in, instead of the chili itself, to get smokiness without too much heat. Another great option is to add a few grinds of this incredibly flavorful but not spicy South African smoke seasoning from Trader Joe's. After discovering it a few weeks ago, I want to put it on everything.

Earthy kale, as it turns out, stands up wonderfully to this bold, creamy dressing.

I am loving massaged kale. A few gentle squeezes of these deeply flavorful, healthy leaves, plus a drizzle of dressing that includes an acid like vinegar or lemon juice, yields a softened, antioxidant-rich green. Earthy kale, as it turns out, stands up wonderfully to this bold, creamy dressing. I topped mine with a few fresh croutons, but it'd be great with cooked, cooled veggies like beets or sweet potatoes. It's also be perfect left as is. 

 The Fall harvest can be counted on with certitude

There's something essentially comforting to me about harvest time.

Beyond soul-satisfying fall foods like butternut squash soup, pumpkin mac and cheese, and roasted root vegetables, harvest serves as a yearly reminder that there is much in this world that is a whole lot bigger than I am. That, regardless of me and what I may have done in the previous year, come September, the days will start to get shorter, the wind swifter and the nights colder. The baskets that just recently held watermelons and peaches will start to overflow with crisp apples, sweet potatoes and turnips.

Try as I might to control the world around me, clinging tightly to summer and nectarines and ripe heirloom tomatoes, fall harvest can be counted on with certitude, to show up anyway, right on time, in all its crunchy-leaf glory. And I can protest, but that would be very silly. Better, I can fill sweet little acorn squashes with earthy kale, onions, creamy goat cheese and piquant little cranberries, pour a glass of reasonably-priced Pinot and toast to a vibrant, fruitful fall season.

This spanakopita (Greek for "spinach pie") recipe is adapted from one by my friend Rebecca Kee, mother of James and one of my closest friends. Adapted from her own mother's version, this recipe became a regular in Rebecca's house when, during her current pregnancy with the second as-yet-unnamed Kee boy, she found herself overcome by a total disinterest in vegetables. Knowing that giving up greens while eating for two was simply not an option, Bec began making this easy Mediterranean classic once (and sometimes twice) weekly. It was an assurance that she would be eating several helpings of dark, leafy greens (plus a decent amount of protein) every day--in a feta-laced, crispy phyllo vehicle. 

After a recent afternoon of spanakopita and gossip at her kitchen counter, I finally demanded the recipe. She obligingly whipped out her iPhone and emailed it to me immediately, along with a link to her post about it on her own blog, Kee Kitchen. 

While shopping for frozen chopped spinach, as per her recipe, I happened upon some very reasonably priced frozen chopped curly kale at Whole Foods, and decided to use a bag of it, plus one bag of regular frozen chopped spinach. The result was delicious--slightly nuttier than the all-spinach version.

Oh, and this fabulous green pie is huge and very filling--great for feeding a big group, or one or two people for several days in a row. It's the perfect thing to keep in the fridge during a week as busy as this one, allowing me to work all day without stopping for more than a few minutes to cut and warm up a square when hunger strikes.

 

What if I unknowingly broke a rule of kashrut, effectively tainting the whole meal and ruining the start to the holiday season?

So, a few weeks ago, Evan and I decided to host a Rosh Hashanah dinner together. 

As my ever-food-focused mind began to think about  what to serve, I couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous about the whole thing. Rosh Hashanah is, after all, a major holiday--a High Holy Day--and this meal would be the first of the High Holy Day season. Plus, many of the attendees keep kosher. This meal needed to be special. Special and kosher.

With this in mind, I began to catastrophize: what if I screwed the whole thing up? What if I unknowingly broke a rule of kashrut, effectively tainting the whole meal and ruining the start to the holiday season? What if my nervous energy yields food that, kosher or otherwise, completely sucks?

Then, we sat down to plan the menu together. "To start, how about gefilte fish, served old-school with horseradish," he said. Easy. 

"Accompanied by a crisp green salad?" I asked.

"Definitely."

"Baked tofu?" Obvs (Evan's baked tofu is awesome).

"A cooked vegetable?" I suggested.

"Sure," he agreed.

So far, so good.

"Now, as far as challah," he began, "can we do something really interesting and unconventional? Like maybe something along the lines of those pizza pinwheels you made?"

And with that, my nerves were gone. Shaking up tradition by way of food? This was my kind of dinner. We brainstormed different challah pinwheel fillings and eventually settled on the outrageous combination of a rich, eggy challah dough rolled up with apples, honey, onions and sharp cheddar, along with plenty of black pepper, salt and a whisper of cinnamon. We would do lots of individual pinwheel-shaped rolls, as opposed to a big communal challah, and serve it with the tofu and cooked veggie. The meal would be vegetarian, so the cheese and butter in the rolls would be just fine (people who keep kosher don't mix meat with dairy).

And best of all, we dreamed these up together. They combine a nod to tradition (challah, apples and honey are all traditional Rosh Hashanah foods) with other autumn flavors and a fun, unusual presentation. They're the old and the new rolled up into one. They're earthy and rich, but also simple and sweet--the perfect way to usher in a good new year.