Tabbouleh is one of those dishes that lends itself towards improvisation, which is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing is that we can feel free to throw it together without a lot of stress and worry, which has resulted in many delicious, creative variations. The curse is that this kind of abandon can lead to the essence of an herb-intense tabbouleh getting lost. My favorite version of tabbouleh straddles tradition and innovation: it's heavy on the traditional herbs but brings the bulgur more forward as well. Here's how I make it!

Ever since I was a little girl, I've had a pretty fierce sweet tooth. I love a good cookie, and ice cream in the summer always becomes more of a routine than it should. But now that I'm older, I bake more with whole grain flours and experiment a great deal with natural sugars. So while it's still dessert, I don't feel quite as guilty. 

Last week my husband and I packed up the car and drove nearly 500 miles to Atlanta to celebrate my sister's wedding. I love a good road trip. It gives you time to think and to talk, and to watch the landscape of mountains and fields roll by. 

While free of the discomforts of plane travel, car travel does carry its own pitfalls, like the lure of fast food and gas station Slurpees. My strategy is to be prepared with something delicious and easy, like this couscous salad — a refreshing lunch at any time, but especially on a long summer road trip. 

I long to be one of those people who packs a healthy, well-balanced meal when they travel. I have friends who pack lunches for their plane journeys — thinking out which foods will complement others and how it will affect the way they feel mid-flight. I don't do this. Usually I can barely manage to eat a decent breakfast before I get out the door. But what I can do is throw together a trail mix for those flights — one that's been put to the test during quick camping trips, day hikes or longer car rides. And I'm always thankful that I took the few minutes to do so.

The first meals alone in a foreign country are always intimidating. When I moved to a small city in central Japan to teach English for two years, onigiri was the first food I clung to. Like a life raft, these seaweed-wrapped rice balls — sort of the sandwiches of Japanese cuisine — kept me afloat in a sea of unfamiliar foods labeled in a language I could just barely read. 

Made with short-grain rice, toasted nori and a small amount of flavorful seafood, meat or pickles, onigiri combine some of the elements of sushi, but in a more homey, comforting form. These are not the elegant creations of highly-trained chefs, but the familiar, filling foods of school lunches and train trips, providing a little taste of home while on the road.

Q: My boyfriend is in love with quinoa and I am too. I'd like to expand our horizons and get him a quinoa cookbook for his birthday; does anyone have recommendations? If it includes desserts or baked goods, all the better.

Sent by Marla

This six-ingredient salad right here has been my lunch for the past week — and it's looking highly likely that I will have it again next week! Made with a simple lemon-miso vinaigrette, this combination of tender kale, chewy farro, and nutty chickpeas holds up very well for several days in the fridge. All I have to do come lunchtime is scoop a portion into a bowl. With some orange segments and a slice of toast on the side, this easy lunch keeps me happy all afternoon.

"It's the most powerful food in the landscape of American culinary experience," according to Glenn Roberts, founder of Anson Mills, producer of handmade milled goods from organic heirloom grains. Glenn is a purist. His favorite way to enjoy the delicious milled corn dish is plain, eaten alone and with reverence. I can't say that most of us southerners are so calm around our grits, but we do love them.