I learned this recipe from Ruth, a classmate in adult Torah study at Lab/Shul with Rabbi Amichai Lau-Lavie. To celebrate our final class, Ruth served us a splendid dinner finished with this unforgettably moist and tasty cake. 

For more than thirty years I have avoided single-purpose tools in the kitchen. When I’ve made the mistake of buying one, I try to face the error quickly, and give it away. I had a special-purpose, Jim Leahy’s-famous-bread pot, for example, and I am not a bread baker. It was a pretty red, though.

It was a bitterly cold January day, below 10 degrees F, when I spotted a pretty ivory lemon pudding on my phone. I rarely look at recipes on social media, but I was alone in a Massachusetts inn, lounging indulgently. The moment saw this modest and perfect dessert, I knew I was destined to eat it with pleasure for the rest of my days.

Kefir is a powerful probiotic-rich cultured dairy drink that’s easy to make at home, although it’s a bit of a science project at first. A mix of beneficial bacteria and yeasts, it originally comes from the Caucasus Mountains, where people have been making and drinking kefir for centuries.

Chicken soup from roast chicken is richer, more robust, even slightly more bitter (from the twice-cooked herbs, spices, and potatoes), and more buttery — see how the chandelier shines back in the photo — than soup made with a fresh raw chicken.

Imagine my delight when a package full of ketchup came to our door, unannounced. The people at Sir Kensington’s, the not-too-sweet ketchup people, read the meatloaf recipe in The Real Food Cookbook and were touched, so they sent me a thank you note.

The boys and I had a simple Thanksgiving meal and all went to bed early. Here is our true, messy kitchen on this real Saturday night. You too, can have a sane Thanksgiving dinner—any night of the week.

This chocolate treat became a family tradition on the very first taste. Another gift from Michele Pulaski, it is intense, molten in the middle, and a touch sweeter than my usual fare, but I wouldn’t change anything, partly because the sugar does things to the texture that one doesn’t want to spoil.

So silky, so nutritious, so lightly-sweetened, it can be breakfast, snack, or dessert.

Says Last Chance Foods, “It’s the high season for cool, slushy drinks. Nina Planck, author of The Real Food series, says her fermented watermelon basil cooler illustrates one of her key principles: when she processes food, she does it in ways that enhance nutrition, flavor, and shelf life.”

I was happy to see CleanPlates.com featuring a recipe from my new cookbook and I especially like that the writer discussed the health benefits of my Fermented Watermelon Basil Cooler.

It’s an idiosyncratic collection. The recipes here are those of a farmers’ daughter, former vegetarian, and home cook. They reflect the rhythms of my life with a cheesemonger husband and three small children. The ingredients are timeless, not trendy; the methods classic rather than rule-breaking. Above all, these are the dishes I love, made with real food.

Even supermarket carrots in the dead of winter are good this way.

This is a lovely dish, not my invention, with bottled condiments containing the not-so-secret Thai flavors, such as lemongrass and fermented fish, which make all the difference.

Your task: to go to the market in deepest February and find distinctive, crunchy things like watermelon radish, fennel, and apples, and to make them look and taste lovely.

It really is easy. I’ve never had much luck with whole wheat baking, so this marks another instance of my dictum: a little white flour now and then won’t hurt you.

Kombucha is a nonalcoholic fermented tea originally from Northeast China or Manchuria. From there it spread to Russia and beyond. I used to drink it purely for health, not pleasure; it suits my digestion and cures my gloom.

Because it’s stable at high temperatures, coconut oil is excellent for cooking and baking. The coconut and chicken broth make this luscious soup the ultimate cold-and- flu therapy.

We are not very organized about cheese. We eat the world’s ten greatest and most famous cheeses more often than the ten latest award-winning small-batch cheeses (as good as they are), and we seldom plan a cheese board.