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Last weekend, as many of you know, it was absolutely freezing here in the Northeast. I wanted to cook something that would have me over the stove for a good stretch of time. A fish stew sounded good, but I wanted to come up with something that used only the more environmentally responsible seafood choices. I also wanted a dish with some heat and depth, without being too thick and heavy.

Seafood stock is one of those things I just can't deal with in a can; fresh is so far superior. If you happen to have some shrimp, crab or lobster shells, the process is actually pretty easy. A fish stock using whole fish heads can be a bit messier, so I'm going to recommend you go the shellfish route. This stock is a great base for soups and stews and for cooking risotto. Cook it down as a base for pasta sauces and sauces to top other seafood dishes.

We're rolling ahead with video: it's time to start showing you all some basic techniques and we'll start with the onion, that pungent bulbous bundle of flavor, so essential to so many cuisines. Watch the video above, then click through for a quick run-down on onion types and the secrets to keeping your eyes dry while you chop.

I recently got into a conversation about the notion that "cooking with kids" is hokey and doesn't belong in a tasteful food publication. I hear the point, but I think it's because so much of what's presented as children's cooking is exactly that: Hokey.

It's still January, Eating Light month at The Kitchn, and I'm still going to talk about ways to eat light without mentioning salads or losing weight, which is what it feels most culinary publications wax poetic about every January.

If you didn't think I was nuts last week, talking about eating in silence and other suggestions on the theme of Eating Quietly, you might after this week.

Maxwell and I just returned from our third ten-day Vipassana meditation course up in a chilly corner of Massachusetts. We returned to NYC this weekend, greeted by bright light, loud noises and for me, January's traditional Eating Light theme on The Kitchn.

Phooey on you, Faith, for giving us free-range on selecting our favorite posts of 2009. It's just impossible! With close to 4,000 posts this year, I am in awe of what the fine writers of The Kitchn have achieved.

I started this site in 2005, chugging out a few posts a day on my own, with the hopes of writing enough about cooking in a tantalizing and accessible way to inspire people to cook more at home. Four years later we have eleven talented people dishing up recipes, tips, news and inspiration to the tune of over fifteen posts a day. Each of these writers brings their own special flavor to the site and so it was with those individual attributes in mind that I selected my favorite posts; one for each writer, exemplifying what I see as their unique takes on the original mission of The Kitchn.

Happy New Year!

We're out in California visiting my family for the Holidays. Already, we've done a fair amount of cooking: a blow-out tamale party, warm bowls of polenta and greens by the fire, and a plum pie (still in season at the Hollywood Farmers' Market).

Stop panicking. It's only a holiday and it comes every year. Seriously. Put down the credit card, and don't worry about elbowing your way through a pile of sale sweaters. If there's one thing you know people like, it's food. So why not stay at home and make some edible gifts in your socks? Put on a winter-y mix of music and just cook your gifts.

My search for a good picnic knife is what first led me to New West KnifeWorks. I imagined something sharp, well-made, not precious, and unique in a way I couldn't quite describe. My answer came in an unexpected package from an unexpected place.

This week I want to skirt the whole holiday gift guide thing again and talk basics.

Recently, I asked some of our staff to write about their most useful kitchen tools and three of them have stepped forward so far: Emily, Emma and Faith.

Now it's my turn.

I write this with an icy sunrise view of Lake Michigan. Maxwell and I are in Chicago for some meetings, staying with some good friends who live in a wonderful, warm apartment with a big kitchen. But let's not mince words: it's freezing here.

If you took the Fall Kitchen Cure, read on. What would make our day is if you would complete a very short questionnaire. It will help us make future Cures even better.

Plus, if you complete the survey (and we have you on record as having signed up for the Cure) by next Wednesday, November 25th at 12pm (EST), you'll be entered in a draw for one of five copies of my cookbook, The Greyston Bakery Cookbook.

Yes, I know: during the Cure we encouraged you to pare down on the cookbooks, so just consider this an offering to those who love to bake, or want to give it as a gift this year.

Click through for the questions.

It's one week away, in case you had forgotten. I want to step back a bit and give you a chance to take a deep breath.

I assume that many of you are cooking some part of the Thanksgiving meal: you're cooks and you love food, that's why you subscribe to our emails. If you're like me, you can get a little wound up with all the preparations, and then the day hits and oops, maybe you forget just a little bit what this day, in theory, is all about.