Right now I’m on a quinoa kick. For those unfamiliar with my new love, this small, hearty grain hails from the Andean region of South America. Cultivated there for at least 3,000 years, quinoa was a favorite of the Incas, who considered it a sacred food and referred to it as “the mother grain.” Nurturing it is. Packed with essential amino acids, its protein quality and amount rival that of milk. It’s also high in calcium and fiber and lower in carbohydrates than other grains. Eat a serving of quinoa and you won’t feel the pang of hunger for hours. No doubt that’s why many call it “the super grain of the future.” Nutrition aside, I’m smitten with quinoa’s mildly nutty, herbal flavors. These pair well with both sweet and savory ingredients. Depending upon my mood and what I have on hand, I can just as easily add dried cranberries, apricots or dates, fresh apples and candied nuts as garlic or onions, peppers, and cheese to it. Although I serve quinoa as a salad or …

Whether you host or are being hosted for Thanksgiving, you’ve probably begun mulling over your holiday menu. Each year a few brave souls start from scratch, forgoing the last year’s stuffings and mashed potatoes in favor of creative, new fare. I’ve learned that this is not the time to try out your cutting edge chilled cardamom lentils, truffle-dusted parsnip chips, or pumpkin-ginger puree. On a day steeped in tradition folks want and expect customary Thanksgiving foods. Increasingly, hosts have begun turning to their guests for their menus. “I’ll provide the turkey. You bring a side or two.” Closer in action to the original feast, this practice encourages everyone to share the responsibility of cooking. That brings me to today’s topic — what sides to take to a Thanksgiving potluck. Whatever you bring, remember that it has to transport and reheat well. Fortunately, the following side dishes do both. THREE-CRANBERRY CONSERVE Recipe courtesy of the November 2004 Thanksgiving issue of “Food & Wine” Makes about 3 cups I love that you can make this recipe ahead …

This week I’ve been working on non-Kitchen Kat cookbook reviews, one of which explores cheese. I can think of no better person to critique a cheese book for I am an absolute fromage fanatic. Whenever I’m on vacation or craving comfort food, I skip the ice cream, cookies and candy. Instead I buy a wedge of Manchego, Emmental or drunken goat and a loaf of good bread and I eat cheese. The writer Clifton Fadiman once described cheese as “milk’s leap toward immortality.” How true. It all begins with milk. Allow natural bacteria or starter culture work its magic on goat’s, sheep’s, cow’s or buffalo’s milk. Eventually the milk thickens and then separates into curds and whey. Drain off the liquid whey and you’re left with curds. From here it’s all about shaping and ripening or aging those milk solids. The end result? Cheese. Rather than muddling through how a gallon of whole cow’s milk becomes a pound of provolone, I’ll stick with what I know — cooking with and eating cheese. However, if you’re …

The past few Saturdays my morning ritual has been to throw on some clothes and hustle over to our neighborhood farmers’ market. My mission? To get there before someone else buys all of St. Peter’s Bakery’s brioche sticky buns. Thanks to their rich yet light dough, these brioche-based buns are the most divine that I’ve ever eaten. Rumored to have originated in Normandy, France in the Middle Ages, brioche is a light yeast bread or cake made from flour, butter, eggs and, of course, yeast. Its name comes from the verb broyer, meaning to break up. The breaking up refers to the dough’s need for repeated and prolonged kneading. In addition to increased kneading, brioche usually requires three, rather than just two, rising periods. In France this extra time and effort has prompted most to buy, rather than bake their own, brioche. Shops devoted to brioche, known as viennoiseries, have sprung up to serve this need. In the 19th century it became the custom to bake this dough in a deep, fluted pan. The resulting …