Taking the Sting Out of Nettles by Jess Thomson
I'd like to file a petition to officially divide the spring season into two sub-seasons: "Spring," which comes after Mother's Day and is usually lovely, and "Unsprung," the obstinate lovechild of January and July. I don't like Unsprung, that prepubescent stage between March and April. Every year, I'm hoodwinked into believing that the rain will end, the sun will come out, and we'll finally be able to stop eating root vegetables. Instead, week after week, I find the same pathetic produce in stores and put up with two months of petulant weather. Last week, for example, it was 80 degrees in Seattle, and I fantasized about tender, bendy rhubarb and early morels, but the market mocked me. I bought obese parsnips. Again. And kale. Again. And onions. Again. And my hope boat sank.

The Best 20 Food Books of 2007
For the past several weeks, all of us here at Leite's Culinaria have been digging out those slips of paper, flipping through notes, uncovering comments, and deciphering scribbles that we collected throughout the year to come up with our top 20 books of 2007. Hands down, the biggest challenge we face every year is choosing a balanced selection that represents what's going on in the world of food and in the lives of our readers and testers, without discounting those books that caught our eye. Our "Best of" isn't just a popularity contest; each book that makes it to the final list is carefully weighed against similar books — often requiring countless trips to the bookstore, in order for us to be satisfied with our choices.

Carving Away the Mystery of the Thanksgiving Turkey by David Leite
Ah, the poor, beleaguered turkey. Ever since a huddle of Pilgrims shot off a few musket rounds at Plymouth Plantation in 1621 to celebrate their first harvest in the New World, the hapless bird became an unwitting — and erroneous — symbol of the holiday legend: Historians say that the original Thanksgiving table was laden with far more ducks and geese than turkey. To add insult to injury, when theturkey assumed the mantle of the holiday's culinary mascot — after Thanksgiving became an official celebration in 1867 — it became terribly misunderstood, a product of persuasive advertising and clever marketing speak. The result? Today, countless Americans head to their local supermarkets, butchers, and farmers with enough conflicting information to make choosing a bird an affair that ranges from merely haphazard to downright hand-wringing.

In a ’64 T-Bird, Chasing a Date With a Clam by David Leite
Recapturing a childhood memory is nearly impossible. Chasing after it in a black 1964 Thunderbird convertible with red interior certainly helps. The memory: lightly fried clams with big, juicy bellies, like the kind I munched on nearly every summer weekend growing up in Swansea, Mass. The car, owned by my friend Bob Pidkameny: a nod to my godfather,
a local celebrity and stock car driver, who would pile my two cousins and me into whatever sleek beauty he was tinkering with and take us to Macray’s in Westport, Mass. There we sat — three lard slicks — digging into red-and-white cardboard boxes, while screams from the riders on the Comet, the wooden roller coaster at a nearby amusement park, floated across the highway.

Exploring Portugal — from Pork to Port by David Leite
It used to be that the most travelers saw of Portugal was what they glimpsed out of an airplane window or a rearview mirror as they skittered across tarmacs or caromed down mountain roads on their way to their final vacation destinations in the Mediterranean or northern Africa. For years, Portugal was Europe's great refueling station. But during the past two decades, foreigners, especially those with gastronomic inclinations, have been lingering, extending vacations, sometimes even canceling plans, to stay within Portugal's borders. And for good reason. Ever since the recent Spanish culinary explosion, led by the lionized Ferran Adrià (chef and wizard of El Bulli on the Catalan coast), eyes have been trained on Iberia. It was only a matter of time, the Portuguese knew, before glances would start wandering over the border to discover the pleasures of comida Portuguesa.

Tempest in a Chowder Cup: R.I.'s Quahog Chowder Still Confounds — and Satisfies
by Laurie Jones
It's a brisk spring morning at Park Elementary School in Warwick, Rhode Island, circa early 1970s, and standing self-consciously by the school's front door are several teachers holding brown paper lunch bags, each containing peanut-butter-and-jelly and ham-and-cheese sandwiches wrapped in sharply creased wax paper. Scanning the knots of chattering children streaming into the beige-brick building, the teachers finally spot the Handrigan kids. Their metal lunchboxes gleam with characters from their favorite TV shows. Unbeknownst to all but this clutch of coconspirators, tucked inside those lunchboxes is the object of the teachers' affection: quahog chowder, plus a lobster roll or two, courtesy of surplus ingredients from Mr. Handrigan's fledgling seafood business.

Meat: The Pleasures of Flesh by James Sturz
A man in Wyoming calls his lover in New York. It's been 11 days since he has seen her, and it feels long and terrible because their relationship is new. "It's midnight here," he says, "so I know I must be wakingyou. But I have to tell you about my dinner. Are you there? This is important." He cradles the receiver to his cheek, sitting on the hotel bed with his socked feet rubbing against carpet. "We wentto dinner, and I need you to know about the prime rib I ate. It was swimming in a gully of juice. I mean, sopping and red, and..." He catches his breath now, recalling the bites and the texture, the moments of flesh. "It could only make me think of you," he tells her. "I was the only one at the table without boots or a cowboy hat," he starts laughing. "I was supposed to be talking about raising capital, and about getting it into Cheyenne fast. But I was thinking of you between each swallow, and all I could think of was your body."

The Best 20 Food Books of 2006
For the past several weeks, we've been making lists and checking them twice — in some cases, four and five times — searching for what we think are the top 20 books of the year. And, as always, we were in for a few surprises and disappointments. Something that didn’t surprise us, and was a trend we mentioned two years ago, was the growing popularity of narrative food books. This year, it seems, was the tipping point. Unflinching looks behind the food world and at our food supply, autobiographies, post-James Frey memoirs that stick to the truth (or so we hope) have all risen to the top of our list.

The First Lady of Mexican Cooking by Maurício Velázquez de León
You have to love a recipe that begins, "First, choose a pig that's chubby, but not too fat. The best age to kill the pig is when it's around one year old. Before that, the meat is bland and gelatinous, and after…it gets tough." The cook is then instructed to blend together freshly butchered pork loin, pork scraps, lard, two powdered chiles, and several spices. The result is chorizo de Toluca, a spicy Mexican sausage indigenous to the city of the same name. The recipe was published in the 1940s, and in terms of authenticity, it's as real as it gets. After all, authenticity was a trademark of the recipe's author, a humble cooking teacher, culinary celebrity, and my grandmother's cousin, Josefina Velázquez de León — considered by many to be the first lady of Mexican cooking.

Feeding the Feast: Street Foods of the Festa do Senhor Santo Cristo dos Milagres
"I bet no one knows pirates had a hand in this," my friend Ana Maria Albuquerque Taveira said of the glut of religious pilgrims squeezing by us. Her arm was flung over the railing of the tasquinha, one of dozens of jerry-rigged food stalls that residents of Ponta Delgada, the capital of the Azorean island of São Miguel, had set up for the Festa do Senhor Santo Cristo dos Milagres. Every year, the usually circumspect islanders grow festive during the event, held on the fifth Sunday after Easter. Throughout that week, the city turns inside out like a glove as everyone from grandmothers to restaurateurs, normally content to cook inside, pour out into the streets to hawk their food to an equally enthusiastic audience.

Hog Heaven: Cutting the Lardo di Colonnata
by Amy Cortese and Robert McCanless
Does prudence ever prevail when, after landing on Italian soil, you promise yourself not to go wild eating? After a five-day run of sumptuous gluttony in central Tuscany, culminating in a 15-course lunch at chef Gaetano Trovato's three-star Arnolfo Ristorante, restraint should have set in. Instead, there we were, driving on the autostrada towards the Tyrrhenian Sea. While crossing over a mountain pass, a light drizzle turned quickly into a dangerous cocktail of pelting rain and pea-soup fog. Visibility was a scant few feet. Finally, we neared Massa, a bit shaken but content that nearby, up in the fog-shrouded mountains to its west, was our goal: the legendary lardo di Colonnata. Yes, pig fat.

Playing It With Fire: Sweating it Out With Pit Master Ricky Parker
Traveling west between Nashville and Memphis, across the rhinestone buckle of the Bible Belt, I headed deeper into the South's other and equally worshipped belt — that of barbecue. Every few miles, advertisements for pulled-pork sandwiches shared billboard space with promises of salvation from ministers who looked as if they should be presiding over a congregation of used-car salesmen, not sinners. Stapled to telephone poles were handmade signs with the letters "BBQ" and a hastily drawn arrow underneath.

Tales of a Supertaster: Or Why Having Stellar Taste Buds Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be
"Don't eat anything for the next few hours," my dentist said, snapping off a pair of latex gloves and dropping them into the trash. "You could bite your cheek or tongue. Could be nasty." I'd been white-knuckling it in the chair for almost an hour because I had to get a filling regrouted. Owing to a pain threshold of a third grader, I insisted he dope me up as much as possible. The result was my mouth was numb from the divot of my upper lip all the way back to my right ear. I rubbed my fingers across the side of my face; it felt as if I were touching the stubble of an unkempt stranger. "Remember —" he called after me as I walked out of the office.

The Gutless Gourmet: Weighing In About the Holidays
There's only one thing I really want for Christmas this year: a stiff case of narcolepsy. I want to go to sleep tonight and wake up fully rested on January second. It's not because I'm not cheered by the tree in the lobby of my building or even by the glut of tourists along Fifth Avenue (although I could have done without that couple wearing matching Santa Claus hats at the Van Gogh exhibit). I'm neither glum, depressed, yearning for a lover, nor wanting to dump one. The only thing I want to dump from my life at the moment is, sadly, food. (Read Leaner and Meaner, the post-holiday follow-up.)

The Best 20 Food Books of 2005
According to Amazon.com, there were 456 fewer cooking and food books published in 2005 than in 2004. But, surprisingly, we had a much easier time picking our favorites than we did last year. In fact, we had a tough time winnowing down the list to only twenty. It seems that despite the dip in quantity, there's been a sharp spike in quality. Starting this year, we decided to pick the one book from our "Best 20 of" list that deserved the honor of Book of the Year. For 2005, the honor goes to Washoku by Elizabeth Andoh (Ten Speed Press).

Peace and Pleasure: A Holiday Menu to End Tryptophan Overload
Holidays exhaust me. It's not that I wilt at the stove as I make enough cookies, preserves, and candies to keep Domino Sugar in the black for the next decade. It's not that I lose steam while obsessively arranging and rearranging more than 800 lights on the Christmas tree so that no limb is left naked. And certainly it's not that I grow fatigued opening presents. Puh-lease. My energy remain boundless as I race outside to look for the red Jaguar XKR Portfolio Convertible my friends keep forgetting to chip in and buy me. No, it's the food that wears me out. How many times can I cook and eat the same tired fodder between Thanksgiving and New Year's before I'm strangled by boredom?

Grilling With the Steak Whisperer Waldy Malouf
When Waldy Malouf, owner of Beacon Restaurant in New York City, broke his ankle in several places, I couldn't have been happier. Nothing against Malouf. If anything, he's a friendly bear of a guy, unlike the pan-throwing heathens I had the bad luck to work with when I was a waiter. Nor was it thinly veiled sadomasochistic tendencies that warmed me inside when I got word of his misfortune. Rather it was something far more sinister: grilling season. It was fast approaching, and I couldn't present my claque of culinistas with yet another platter of incinerated chicken breasts.

The Best 20 Food Books of 2004
Well, it's that time of year again. After having tabulated all the e-mails and notes we've gathered throughout the year from our readers, recipe testers, and contributors — and after adding our favorites — we came up with our picks for the best food books for 2004. But it was harder. Our short list was a lot shorter than last year's. Were we more selective this time around? Absolutely. Is the marketplace different? We think so. We found fewer good books in 2004, but those that made the cut are extraordinary in their own ways.

Pastéis de Belém: Hot on the Trail of a Legend
On the fringes of Lisbon, in the picturesque section of Belém, are two shrines that every year draw hundreds of thousands of pilgrims. The more imposing is the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, the Manueline-style monastery that contains the tombs of venerated kings and queens, Vasco da Gama, and the national poet, Luís de Camões. Nearby is a pastry shop called the Antiga Confeitaria de Belém, home to what is arguably the Holy Grail of Portuguese sweets: pastéis de Belém, the recipe for which has been a secret for centuries. Having been raised in a Portuguese-Catholic family, I looked at the monastery, then at the confeitaria, and joined my fellow sinners in the happier-looking line in front of the shop.

Coming Home to Lisbon: Exploring the Old and New of Portugal's Capital
During the heady days of the Age of Discovery, Lisbon was a world leader, thanks to Portuguese innovations in navigation. Soon, though, she was hip-checked into early retirement by larger, more powerful cities that grew wealthy exploiting the trade routes she had blazed from Brazil to Macao. But since joining the European Union in 1993, there's been an influx of trade, culture, and much-needed money. As a result, ornate façades everywhere are being restored, but the colorful mottle of centuries of peeling paint — the divine decrepitude — has remained.

Feel the Burn: Portuguese Piri-Piri Sauce Heats Up the Palate
I have barely any taste buds left. My poor scorched tongue is screaming out for water, bread, milk — anything to extinguish this raging mouth fire. The reason for my happy tortured state: the five bottles of molho de piri-piri, Portugal's famously incendiary hot sauce, lined up beside my laptop. In an attempt to truly understand the appeal of this concoction, I chose to down the stuff by the teaspoonfuls, naked, without a scrap of food to offset the burn. My conclusion: I must be a super-taster, one of those rare and exalted persons with an exquisitely sensitive palate who finds even mildly spicy foods torrid. That, or I lack the common sense of a second grader.

With Knives Drawn: The Competition of Competitive Cooking
Geneticists everywhere are pushing their tape-mended glasses up the bridge of their collective nose and snickering. They've proven that nearly everything about us, from our threshold for Friends reruns to whether we prefer our martinis shaken or stirred, is rooted in our chromosomes. According to these scientists, natural selection has sifted out the chaff of human genes and, as a result, left us with a cache of finely honed instincts, the most important of which is survival — an anthropologically trumped-up word for winning.

How to Break Into Food Writing: A Lecture on eGullet.org
There's an unfortunate inverse relationship between the number of food assignments out there and the number of people who want to write them. Accept it because it's never going to change. The only thing you can change is yourself, by learning as much as you can about the industry, the craft of writing, and the business of getting work. My goal is to offer up pertinent information that can help give you the edge over other writers vying for the same assignments. [Check out the extensive and informative Q&A.]

The Best 20 Food Books of 2003
It wasn't easy. The task at hand: Winnow down the stacks of food books and cookbooks that were published in 2003 to a mere 20. We started by asking our seven editors for their picks. Then I reread all the e-mail I got this year from subscribers, many of whom had their favorite new book of the moment. I also took another look at our recipe testers' comments. Lastly I analyzed our site's statistics — more than 4.9 million hits so far this year — to discover which recipes were the most popular and, by deductive reasoning, which books were hits. That narrowed it down to about 70 books. Fifty to go.

Les Guerres de Beurre: The Franco-American Butter Wars
Before the 1990s, there was no question about it: French butter reigned victorious in just about every pastry kitchen of worth. Its complex, nutty flavor with a slightly tangy back note, superior plasticity, and sterling pedigree were world famous. French chefs, accustomed to working with such an excellent ingredient in their homeland, had long ago convinced a cadre of important American colleagues to follow suit. And, therefore, French butter's preeminence remained unchallenged. But over the past decade, new American butters have been storming the palace gates.

A Cold Day's Feast
Connecticut winters are an institution, and, according to Hollywood, a destination. Lucy and Ricky, with Ethel and Fred in tow, have been living here in perpetuity since 1956. In the classic film Christmas in Connecticut Barbara Stanwyck portrays Elizabeth Lane, Smart Housekeeping's domestic goddess/columnist, who pretends she lives in a sprawling Connecticut farmhouse, where she dishes out recipes for her readers. In reality, Lane can't find her way around the kitchen. Well, thankfully, some people can. Here are five recipes that will take the chill off.

Seasoning Memories with Classic American Spice Mixes
We grew up with them, loved them, liberally sprinkled them on everything. Yet because of our slavish devotion to the glut of gourmet products, we've relegated these classics to the back of the spice cabinet. In this nostalgic look back, all of our favorites — Bell's, Tabasco, Old Bay, Lawry's Seasoned Salt, Mrs. Dash, and Paul Prudhomme's Magic Seasonings Blends — take center stage again.

Suburban Vikings Enjoy a Bit of Yuletide Barbarism
By Kirsten M. Dahl
A daughter remembers how her mild-mannered Swedish parents whipped up a wicked, alcohol-laden drink called glögg every Christmas and won over a reserved Connecticut neighborhood.

Croeso i Cymru — Or In Other Words, Welcome To Wales
In the June 2001 issue of its magazine and Web site, the National Geographic Society featured a story on the country of Wales — its culture, people and traditions. To supplement this, the magazine asked me to join with them to bring you an authentic taste of Welsh cooking. Chef Jos Wellman, a Welsh patriot nonpareil, offers up two delicious dishes: Welsh Broth with Welsh Rarebit Croûtes and Swansea Fish Cakes with a Cockle Sauce and Minted Peas while I offer up my own recipe for Welsh Cakes. The article was included in National Geographic's June 2001 Interactive edition.

Lost in the Atlantic
That the Azores, the nine tiny islands strewn like a handful of marbles 1,000 miles off the coast of Portugal. Part volcanic soil and salt air, part peasant ingenuity and thrift, the hearty fare of the Azores doesn't dazzle, but instead comforts. Recipes include: Sopa de Couves (Kale and Potato Soup), Torresmos (Spicy Garlic-Roasted Pork), Feijão à Portuguesa (Classic Portuguese Beans), Bacalhau à Gomes de Sá (Codfish and Potato Casserole) and Pastéis de Nata (Cream Custards).

Dining Through the Decades
A nostalgic look at the last one hundred years of food, chefs and trends in America. Ten quintessential recipes, one from each decade, are included: Oysters Rockefeller, Vichyssoise, Orange-Glazed Carrots, Chiffon Cake With Lemon Icing, California Dip,Coq Au Vin, Beef Wellington, Risotto Alla Milanese, Warm, Soft Chocolate Cake. It's an easy-to-swallow (forgive the pun) introduction to food history in America.

Is Time Running Out to Stock Up on Champagne?
An investigative look at the supposed champagne shortage for the new millennium. Are importers stashing away bubbly in order to raise prices? Has there been a run on the best vintages, leaving nothing for the rest of us? Champagne producers, retailers, and even your neighbor seems to have an answer. Also included are tips for storing and serving champagne as well as a list of must-have bubbly by Lettie Teague, wine editor of Food & Wine. If you think you've been taken, or are afraid that you'll be the butt of some liquor lackey's joke, read on.

The Purist's Guide to Tea
Something's making thousands of coffeehouse owners jittery, and it isn't the caffeine in their double mocha lattes. It's tea. China's 5,000-year-old elixir is suddenly chic again. This complete primer includes a description of the most popular teas, how to brew a perfect cup, plus recipes for afternoon tea delights. Asparagus and Prosciutto Tea Sandwiches, Chinese Spice Tea Cookies and Pear Almond Tart with an Earl Grey Sauce.

Lights, Camera, Recipes
After my grandmother passed away, many of the beloved dishes of our Portuguese family disappeared from our table. Determined never to let that happened again, I turned a video camera on my mother and aunts while they cooked. Recipes for Carne Assada em Vinho d'Alhos (an unusual and spicy pot roast) Feijão a Portuguesa (classic Portuguese beans), Fried Azorean Cod and Pastéis de Coco (coconut custard cups) are included.