Cheers to summer — and pretending our front stoop is an Italian piazza.

It’s been a long few months of rich cooking and eating, so the idea of eating simply and clean as summer approaches is attractive. In Ayurveda, a dish called Kitchari is often prescribed for its ease of digestion and detoxifying qualities, and lately I’ve been eating it a ton. Kitchari literally means a mix or a mess, so this dish is a mess of rice, usually basmati, and beans, usually split mung beans.

You asked for it. Well, not really. (Most of you seemed “grossed out” by my post about Cooking with Colostrum.) But I’m giving it to you anyway: the recipe for Colostrum Raw Milk Ricotta.One theory I have for the blech-reaction that post elicited is simply the name: Colostrum. If I’d called it “early milk” or “beestings” as others have referred to it, would you have stuck your collective fingers down your throat so energetically?

After years of world travel and dining out in everything from hole-in-the-wall joints in Laos to the finest finery of Paris’s restaurants, the real food luxury for me when I travel now is to cook in, using the most simple ingredients, listening to local radio, and serving on the most grandmotherly plates.Recently while on the road, I made a version of a salad that I love at the height of summer: shaved zucchini with Parmesan and olive oil.

While we have ample vegan and gluten-free coverage on The Kitchn, unless it’s naturally free of milk, eggs or gluten (say, a green salad) these recipes are not usually coming from my corner of the test kitchen. There’s one recipe, however, that I’ve worked on quite a bit; a vegan and gluten-free chocolate cupcake that I first had when someone brought a dozen to my house for a party. They were gooey and dark and had a sweet coconut icing on top.

A version of this post was originally sent to our email subscribers on June 26th. To receive Sara Kate’s weekly email, sign up in the column to the left or click here. Something tasty will arrive in your inbox every Thursday.Ask most “good cooks” and they’ll probably admit that sometimes, even for them, it’s a struggle to get dinner made during the week. This is especially so when you’ve been writing about food all day long.

My adventure with this big fish peaked as I tried shoving it — lovingly stuffed and carefully sewn up with pink thread — into my twenty-inch apartment-sized oven. There was swearing and a little dance of frustration. Maybe even a lump in the throat. Then I hacked it in half and moved on. It turns out the easiest part of making a whole fish is prepping and roasting it.

A version of this post was originally sent to our email subscribers yesterday, January 29. To receive Sara Kate’s weekly email, sign up in the column to the left or click here. Something tasty will arrive in your inbox every Thursday.

I’m still in LA, and Maxwell finally joined me a few nights ago. I took him straight from the airport to dinner at Mozza, a Nancy Silverton/Mario Batali/Joseph Bastianich production in Hollywood that I’ve been wanting to try. We sat at the bar and nibbled on this knock-out salad: a concoction of crispy crimson endive, whisper thin fennel and slabs of Parmesan cheese tossed with a dressing made from dates and anchovies.

I always giggle a little at how universally disappointing it is to eat Tuscan bread. Saltless, with a completely unsatisfying texture, it can be real let-down when the carb cravings hit. And yet, it comes from Italy, a country revered deeply for its culinary traditions.But then, like clouds parting, those savvy Italians redeem themselves with panzanella, the traditional Tuscan bread salad that combines their stale, tasteless bread with tomatoes. Suddenly, that bread has a purpose.

Lately it’s been hot as all get-out in New York and this week the pilot light went out on my range, so I feel like I’m completely ensconced in no-cook cooking.One of my favorite ways to feel like I’m getting a good dose of vitamins and protein without turning on the stove is a simple dish with slabs of tomato and anchovies marinated in vinegar, known as boquerones. Sometimes it’s enough for lunch, sometimes even dinner with a hunk of bread and a good cheese.

My mom grew up in the 40s and 50s camping in Yosemite where she dined on my grandfather’s version of a sardine sandwich: a Ritz cracker with a slice of cheddar, a lump of sardine packed in mustard, and a bit of dill pickle on top.Sixty years later, there aren’t many fish left that we can eat without feeling like we’re destroying the environment or poisoning ourselves with mercury, but the sardine is still a great choice.

When I embarked on my trip to Greece last week, I knew I’d be documenting the heck out of it, and when I landed in Athens, the first thing I did was order a Greek salad, take notes, and snap it with my iPhone. It was beautiful: ripe red tomatoes from Crete, substantial chunks of feta cheese, perfectly sweet raw purple onions, and lots of fragrant olive oil and dried oregano. Seemed familiar, and yet I relished in the experience of consuming these simple ingredients on foreign soil.

A classic bowl of comfort that needs nothing but good, crusty bread.

You’re either an eggnog person, or you’re not. I’m convinced that most people who say they don’t like it are holding a grudge not against its flavor, but against the fact that it has the potential to get you totally bombed and make your clothes no longer fit all in one go. For me, it’s that slick layer of fat that builds on the roof of my mouth if the eggnog is too fatty.

Around the World in 30 Soups: This month we’re collaborating with chefs, cookbook authors, and our own Kitchn crew to share a globetrotting adventure in soups from countries and cuisines around the world. Today’s stop: Colombia. This amazingly flavorful soup comes from the kitchen table of Sara Kate, one of Kitchn’s founders, passed to her by a Colombian friend who shared the secret ingredient of this traditional soup.

Last year I spent some time on Kea, a completely un-touristy Greek island off the coast of Athens. I went to spend a week cooking with Aglaia Kremezi, a thoughtful cook and talented teacher of Mediterranean cuisine. She had just finished the manuscript for a vegetarian cookbook and so many of the dishes I learned came from that body of work. My stained photocopied recipes and frayed notes from that trip have occupied a permanent place in my kitchen ever since that trip.

If you know me just barely, you know that I’m summer’s biggest fan, and after 20 winters in the Northeast, I still moan and groan over winter’s double-whammy: no fresh vegetables in season and freezing temperatures. So today, in frigid Brooklyn, I give you a piece about a hot tomato soup a friend brought back from a recent trip to Egypt.

This is the light, fragrant stew created with spring celebrations in mind. Unlike the rich beef stews you cozied up with in winter, this one opts for a subtly spiced, brothy base studded with ultra-tender chunks of lamb and vegetables. It’s casual enough for a simple Sunday supper, although if you spoon it over a bowl of buttery couscous and top with a splash of fresh herbs, it becomes the centerpiece of a dinner party.

I attribute my early-in-life distaste for asparagus to my grandmother’s habitual over-cooking of all things green, but now I love to eat it raw and flash-cooked. And now is the time. Last week I wrote about rhubarb bursting forth from the garden. Next in line in spring’s parade of gifts is asparagus. When it comes, it really comes. Bundles of it give a new fresh texture to the market, their tight little cone heads poking up into the sun.

Every once in a while during the summer, I stumble on the sale of the season. I’m not talking about clothes or shoes — this is far better. I’m talking about fresh, ripe raspberries for $1 per pint. Considering these berries can be upwards of $5 at the grocery store, I stock up! While I could easily eat my way through pint after pint, popping berries from the container straight to my mouth, I do my best to show a little restraint.

Corn and sunflower sprouts jumped out as a perfect accompaniment for the Mexican themed Goat Taco dinner party I had going that night.

Winter storms have a way of making me want to cook something that has me over the stove for a good stretch of time. I love a fish stew, but these days you need to be careful if you want to make environmentally responsible seafood choices. The lists of what’s sustainable and fine to fish versus what’s not can shift often. I also wanted a dish with some heat and depth, without being too thick and heavy — no cream, this isn’t a time for chowder. The result?

A friend left this recipe on my refrigerator while I was out. They must have known that mangoes are one of the two non-local items I cannot live without (avocados are the other.

I am interested in real working kitchens and so I asked JJ if I could come over and scope out his “office.” He invited me for salsa on what ended up being the hottest day of the year so far. We pushed the chiles to the limit, and without air conditioning, we slurped salsa from spoons while we we kicked back and talked about how a regular guy like JJ in a regular apartment (and tiny kitchen) in Brooklyn can make a great Mexican chef’s recipes make sense to the rest of us.

How many ways can you make a tomato salad? Last weekend I loaded up on gorgeously ugly and misshapen but absolutely succulent heirloom tomatoes and started the challenge. There was a messy caprese salad with chopped tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella with a little olive oil and balsamic. There was an even more simple affair with delicate multi-colored tomato slices with really good salt and pepper and a touch of oil.

This weekend we were treated to a special dirty martini from our favorite pickle joint in town, Rick’s Picks. Just in time. In an effort to get you ready for summer, we’re going to kick off a week of original cocktail recipes, and we begin with a bang: it’s Pickletini time.This weekend we held a little book party here in the office for the launch of Maxwell’s new book.

Here is a simple, nourishing side dish for fall: a light gratin with shredded kale and potatoes. Our local farm has potatoes galore right now, and the kale is starting to sweeten up as the nights cool. This dish will take you into late fall and early winter and still be considered seasonal and local for those of us living in much of the northern hemisphere.

Every season, there’s that moment when the whole idea of “seasonality” wears thin — when you’re done with a particular variety of produce before it’s done with you. Or maybe it’s just the inundation of summer squash, zucchini, and tomatoes that bring on those feelings. When it does, I throw together this simple little casserole and fall in love all over again.

Now and then, a girl needs a little magic to get through the day and fly above it all. I have a couple of pretty gigantic projects going on right now, and while moving a mile a minute isn’t my preferred way to live, it’s been a reality. At times, I move so fast that I forget to eat, and I get clumsy and frantic. That’ll knock the wind right out of a lady’s magic fairy wings. To make sure I stay on top of it all, I need a nourishing and energizing breakfast.

We’ve been drinking these margaritas for as long as we can remember, and I mean year-round.Right about now as the days get longer and warmer, the rest of the world catches up and decides it’s margarita time. With Cinco de Mayo celebrated today, what better time to share the recipe? Watch out, they’re strong.

The beets in our garden are big enough to eat, which, in my world, means they’re the size of golf balls. In the fall, when the beets are huge and the greens not as young, I like to make the Beet Box, but when the root and tops are tender and young, we celebrate the beet a different way. Last night we yanked up a handful and roasted them, then sautéed the greens in some Herb Butter and topped with toasted hazelnuts and cold goat cheese.

One of the most exciting sections of the upcoming Kitchn Cookbook is the up-close-and-personal tours of ten kitchens. This week I revisited several of our subjects to do follow-up interviews. Bridget, who lives on New York’s Upper West Side, has been an empty nester for over ten years and she’s great at cooking for one.

Hands down, my favorite breakfast is a whimsical, slightly sour, oven-baked creature that my mom used to make for me when I had sleepovers at our house as a kid. We called it Big Pancake; others know it as a Dutch Baby or German Pancake. In the morning I’d hear the blender going and know she was making the batter. About 45 minutes later, a gaggle of pajamaed girls would gather around the over and watch the pancake’s showy, doughy display.

While I love the idea of a little hand-held, deep-fried ringlet of sweetness, most doughnuts make my teeth hurt and coat the roof of my mouth with a fatty film, so I avoid them, and most other overly sweet desserts. But I do like a challenge, so lately I have been playing around in the kitchen with the idea of a savory take on sweets. This week my inspiration came as I eyed a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips at the corner deli, displayed next to a box of powder sugar doughnuts.

Ursula turned two yesterday, so we had a little party. We don’t do much sugar with her, but I was told by a trustworthy source that she needed “a proper cake.” So I set out to develop a cake recipe that was delicious, yet not packed with refined sugar and empty calories. One of the beautiful things about having a baby on September 28th was that it felt like a bountiful time to me. Harvest time. What better time to bring into the world a nice ripe, plump baby?

I’ve long adored carrot cake. It’s usually paired with cream cheese frosting which I find utterly addictive, and the inclusion of carrots gives a sense that having a big slice is somehow beneficial to my health. Mental health, at least.I have many carrot cake notches in my belt; I make it often and each time the recipe gets a little tweak. Carrot cake is a great culinary example of how cooking is a never ending quest to discover the best combinations of ingredients.

I get really excited when I see berries growing on the side of the road. I inherited this obsession from my mother who, during our vacation each summer in northern Idaho, would go on a walk with a big bag and not allow herself to return until she had picked a thousand huckleberries. We’d make dozens of jars of jam, huckleberry pancakes, and frozen kiddie drinks. I don’t remember us ever looking at a recipe.

Oh yes I did. Last Monday night I whipped up some sugar cookie dough, and bought some colorants for royale icing that would transform my plain Jane cookies into some hopeful sunrise cookies for election day.I was inspired by all the Obama cookies I found online and in particular the one I featured in my election night menu ideas post. Plus, with an invitation to an election party featuring “Real American Food” I figured some sugar, white flour and dye was in order.

As we wrap up edits on The Kitchn’s upcoming cookbook, I’ve been thinking a lot about my first book, The Greyston Bakery Cookbook, published in 2007. I learned many tough lessons that first go-around about how to make a book, but one thing I still return to and use is the recipes. There are many I make regularly when it comes time to get dessert on the table.

This is the time of year when I start craving savory tarts. This vegetarian tart has vinegar-roasted onions, mushrooms, and ricotta cheese, making it a great appetizer for a group, or a dinner for two when served with a side salad. Why not? It’s getting cold out there and sometimes you just need a dinner that feels like the food equivalent of sliding on a cashmere sweater: decadent and yet perfectly functional.

I know about a secret cranberry spot on Long Island, and from foraging trips there, this recipe was born. Each fall I’d spend two or three weekends on my knees in my wellies, gathering those ruby jewels autumn. I’d rinse and freeze enough for Thanksgiving, then use the rest to play with in the kitchen.

It’s been a while since we had a reader recipe: this one comes from Melinda in Pittsburgh. “I picked up fresh blueberries at the Farmer’s Market this week and made this super simple dessert from my South Carolina childhood. There are many different types of cobbler crusts/toppings–buckles, crumbles, brown-bettys–but this is my favorite, a sweet, buttery, rich batter, with crispy and chewy bits. Delicious plain, but even better with vanilla ice cream.

It’s Easter egg time at our house. Last year we brought you the story of Huevos Haminados, a Passover tradition of dying eggs with onion skins. This year, I decided to try it with both yellow and red onions, on white and brown eggs. The result was a gentle palate of reds and browns.My favorites were the chocolaty brown eggs that came from dying brown eggs with red skins.This is a great, natural way to make subtly beautiful Easter (or Passover) eggs.

You may remember from last week that I’ve been involved in the creation of a meal around a very challenging theme: space. Last week I shared with you the Tang Cocktail that kicked off the evening. Today, I’m sharing the dessert. This dinner had been an auction item at a fundraiser for my daughter’s school, and in addition to the space theme, the friend who ultimately bought this dinner also wanted to celebrate her partner’s birthday. My challenge was the cake.

This Valentine’s Day I have two hot dates: my husband, Maxwell, and our daughter, Ursula. And since Monday is neither the sexiest night of the week, nor a night when we usually eat dessert (especially the little one), it seemed like a nice excuse to come up with something different for this year’s Valentine’s present, which is always something homemade.