11 days. It’s been 11 days of no beef, no pork, no poultry. I’ve had fish up the wazoo; sushi for lunch, seared salmon for dinner. In fact, last night’s salmon–which was very good salmon, from McCall’s in Los Feliz–made me a bit queasy, probably because, at that point, I’d become a human aquarium. Today, at lunch, I had a vegetarian meatball hero at The Oaks near where we live and though the vegetarian meatballs were impressively good substitutes for the real thing, they weren’t the real thing. And all afternoon today, after going to the gym, I’ve been craving a hamburger. A big, juicy hamburger. I think I may just snap.

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If you go into the back of my car, which you can’t really do right now because it’s in the shop (car accident; see my newsletter for details) you’ll notice a layer of paper on the floor. On that paper, you’ll find handwritten directions to various destinations: Little Flower in Pasadena, the airport, etc. Why, in these days of endless technology, do I bother writing out directions on pieces of paper? Hold that thought for a second and come into my kitchen. You’ll notice pieces of paper magnet-ed to the fridge and flattened on the counter with recipes written out by hand. By hand? Who writes recipes out by hand?

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Ok, enough with this healthy stuff. Bring on dessert.

Very well! For a long time I’ve been curious about Crème Caramel but too wimpy to make it. It starts by making caramel, something I’ve done many times, but then you pour the caramel into ramekins, make a custard with eggs and milk and vanilla bean, pour it on top and cook everything in a water bath. The scary part comes later, after you refrigerate it, when your guests are there and it’s time to unmold… what if it doesn’t come out? What if the caramel didn’t melt and remained a hard block? What if your custard is too wet? Or, worse, overcooked? When it comes to Crème Caramel it’s easy to be afraid.

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What is grilling? Does it have to happen outside? Why?

These are questions I often ask myself, especially since I’ve yet to be able to buy my dream grill (a Weber kettle drum charcoal grill) to begin my own grilling education. In the interim, I’ve read–in fact, I’ve written in my own cookbook–that you can replicate the effects of outdoor grilling with a cast iron skillet at home. Problem is, any time I’d ever done this I added oil to the skillet and whatever I was “grilling” ended up tasting like it was fried in oil, not grilled. What would happen if I heated my cast iron skillet until super hot and added food to it without any fat? Would that result in a more “grilled” flavor? I decided to give that a try with cauliflower steaks.

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In this life there are rule-followers and rule-breakers. I’ll never forget the day that Mrs. Murley, my high school A.P. European History teacher, kicked Brian T. out of class for being impertinent. As he was leaving, Mrs. Murley said, “Don’t fall off your motorcycle this summer.” Brian T. replied, “Don’t fall off of your high horse.”

Oof! The rule-breakery of it! This may not come as a shock, but I was the ultimate rule follower growing up. Rules meant structure, they meant a clearly defined path you could follow. Breaking the rules meant casting yourself off into the great unknown.

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When I declared my pescatarianism last week, I was mostly being tongue-in-cheek because I was pretty sure it wouldn’t stick. I’m still not sure it’ll stick. But so far, it’s stuck, and at the same dinner party when I made that spring pea puree, I needed a vegetarian entree that would impress in a way that didn’t make anyone think: “Vegetarian entree.” Rifling through a recent Food & Wine, I found a recipe for David Kinch’s Eggplant Dirty Rice and thought: “Ooooh.” Once I made it, that “oooh” transformed into a “whoah.” This is powerful stuff, one of the best vegetarian dinners I’ve had in a long time.

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Spring peas require patience. You have to take the time to go to the farmer’s market to find them and then you have to remove them from their pods. If you have a lazy afternoon ahead and you want to sit on your front porch rocking in a chair and chatting with neighbors, by all means, shell a bunch of peas. Me? When a recipe calls for fresh peas vs. frozen peas, I always opt for frozen peas. Because they’re always so good and sweet. And because I don’t have a porch. And because I’m lazy. Stop judging me.

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Wow, it’s Friday and boy did this week really fly by. Did you get through it ok? That’s interesting. Hey so you know what you should make this weekend? Granola!

Have you ever made granola? You haven’t? My word. This is my favorite go-to granola recipe (it comes from the BAKED Cookbook) and many people who make it leave comments saying it’s too salty. I think these people are crazy because the saltiness is what makes it so good. Also because of all the sugar in it, it’s sort of like candy…which is probably why I like it so much.

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Sometimes you have a negative restaurant experience that stays with you for a really long time after the fact. This is one such experience illustrated by a very talented illustrator: me.

This fall I went to a hip new restaurant, here in L.A., with my friends Jim and Jess. You might ask, “Which restaurant?” but I’m not sure I want to shame them so publicly. Maybe they deserve another chance. Maybe. Here’s what happened…

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