This past weekend I spent time with my Brazilian friends, and naturally we started talking about Brazilian Independence Day which is today. Our conversation quickly turned to the flavorful and eclectic Brazilian dishes we miss and crave. I have a hard time living without the succulent and tender steaks, the Suco de Abacaxi com hortelã (pineapple and mint juice) you can get on any street corner in Rio, Reqeijão (sort of like cream cheese, but creamier) and the popsicles you eat on the beach made from condensed milk. Whenever one of my Brazilian friends starts to miss Brazil (which is often), she makes her three favorite Brazilian dishes: Aipim Frito (fried yuca sticks), Moqueca (fish or shrimp stew), and Romeo e Julieta (a mild Brazilian cheese eaten with guava paste) for dessert. I plan to do the same to curb my saudades (similar to nostalgia) for Brazilian food by making Cheese Bread to start, followed by Barbecued Brazilian Steak and lastly, Baked Coconut. Umm...I just wiped the drool off my face. When you get homesick, what foods do you miss the most?

People keep telling me to buy supermarket rotisserie chicken to save time and keep the kitchen cool in the summer. They certainly smell tempting (the chickens, not necessarily the people), and they are only a couple of bucks more expensive than their uncooked brethren. However, they always taste too salty to me, and there doesn't seem to be as much meat on them as the ones we cook at home. One night we'll have the chicken sliced with salad, and then the next day there'll be some for sandwiches at lunch. We're never quite sure what else to do with them. Are they worth it? Do you buy store-roasted chicken, and if so, what are your favorite ways to serve it? (And if you work in a supermarket and have behind-the-scenes secrets on the chicken prep and roasting methods, do tell!)

Over the long weekend, I made some waffles. For the topping, I decided to try making something using the apples I'd received in my CSA delivery. Winging it, I cut up one apple into thin slices and sautéed them in a small pan with 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter and 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon. But butter and cinnamon alone wouldn't help the apples achieve the sweetness I was looking for so I resorted to an ingredient I'd never used before: vanilla bean paste. I added 1/4 teaspoon of the paste to the mix. A couple of minutes later, the apples were sufficiently tender and the juices had mixed in with the other ingredients to create a lovely syrup. The apples tasted absolutely delicious, and I was delighted by tiny flecks of vanilla bean in the syrup. Pleased with my ingenuity (although I doubt its originality), I wondered what else one could make using vanilla bean paste. On the bottle's label, it states that the ratio of vanilla extract to vanilla bean paste is 1:1. And 1 vanilla bean equals 1 tablespoon of paste. Knowing how much a vanilla bean costs, substituting the paste would definitely be more economical (and neater). Has anyone made the switch from either bean or extract to paste? Can you detect any changes when cooking with the paste?

John Grisham had a good op-ed in The New York Times today, on how he became a writer, and it reminded me that Labor Day is about more than grilling and picnics. It's about the first word in its name (even though the unions that scored the holiday for all of us have been pretty well vanquished over the last three decades). And since I'm laboring today, and not over a hot stove, I've been thinking about how I managed to get to do what I do. It's the question I hear the most, after the unanswerable, "What's your favorite restaurant?" I sometimes think a good title for a memoir would be "The Woman Who Mistook a Dinner Party for a Career." Before I met my consort, I never cooked; I could barely feed myself (the night we met I weighed 108 pounds, and I'm 5' 7"). He not only loved to cook, he had everything you needed, right down to soufflé dishes. We moved to Manhattan together, just a couple of blocks from Fairway and Citarella and catercorner from the Silver Palate; it was food central. So we cooked for ourselves and we cooked for friends and it was all so much fun I thought I should just quit my miserable job at the Times and become a chef. I made it through the New York Restaurant School and lasted one night in one real kitchen and a few months in another before conceding it was not for me. I wanted to have parties, not crank out the same Goldie Lox omelet day after day. I started pitching food stories and was really lucky: Back then, people who could both cook and string words together were not in enormous oversupply. Learning menu-writing in school was also a plus; I could invent a drool-inducing name for a dish, sell the idea and then figure out how to actually make it. And I was really lucky Al Gore had not yet invented the internets. Otherwise I might have stayed at a job I hated and only blogged about our dinner parties. Of course, this is just one version of events. Grisham got to lay out his story very straightforwardly. With food, you write the same story so often (can you say Thanksgiving, which I'm already immersed in again?) it's all about the spin. Now it's time for a picnic, in a friend's garden. And I'm not sure what to bring but am thinking zucchini madeleines.

In Medieval times, poor peasants were healthier than rich people, because they were more physically active and ate a diet rich in grains, fruits, and vegetables. Snacking was less acceptable, and eating was a community affair. Dr. Iona McCleery teaches medieval history at Leeds University in England and hopes to use examples from the past in a three-year project to help today's children learn how to eat in a healthier way. "Through food festival stalls and cooking demonstrations, we will also reach people who don't usually go into museums to encourage them to think about how the past affects their own eating habits," she told the BBC. Food historian Caroline Yeldham added: "The medieval diet was very fresh food. There were very few preserves, so everything was made fresh and it was low in fat and low in salt and sugar....There are certainly a much wider range of ingredients than we tend to eat today - more herbs and fish, rather than imports, which were a small part of the diet and used as flavorings." Makes you wonder if we have everything backwards today. People living in poverty are more likely to be obese than their richer counterparts. Time to go back to simplicity?

When it comes to cooking, availability is the mother of invention. I suppose that's how it was when the old-time recipes were first created: cooks had only seasonal (or preserved) food on hand, so they made up recipes from what was available. And the same goes for food that you find in your fridge. Maybe you have some produce on hand that needs to be used up before it goes bad, or maybe it's a busy weeknight and you don't have time for grocery shopping. So you size up what's available and invent something with it. And so one recent Monday evening I found myself taking stock of what I had to work with. My inventory included: 3 homemade homemade lamb sausages, thawed several days previously 3 small but beautiful farm-fresh bell peppers, green but just turning to red 4 leeks, also fresh from the farm 1 tomato The bottom third of a bag of Goya medium grain white rice An open bottle of red wine Frozen homemade vegetable stock All this added up, in my mind, to stuffed peppers. Here's how I did them: I browned the sausages in some olive oil and added the leeks. Once the leeks were soft, I salted them and added about 1/3 cup of the red wine. I deglazed the bottom of the pan, the let the wine simmer until it was mostly cooked away, breaking up the sausages into pieces with the back of a spoon. I added 3/4 of a cup of the rice, and stirred it to let it get a bit toasted. Then I added 1-1/2 cups of vegetable stock, let it come to a simmer, and covered the pan. I cooked this for 15 minutes until the rise was just barely, maybe even not quite, done. Then I stirred in the tomato, which I'd chopped into chunks about same size as the sausage pieces. I spooned about half of the rice mixture into an oiled baking pan, spreading it out so that it more or less lined the surface of the pan. I drizzled it with a little water: I wanted it to steam up while it baked, to soften the peppers and to finish cooking the rice. I set the peppers, which I'd halved, scooped clean of seeds and veins and coated lightly with oil, on top of the rice in the baking pan. The I spooned the remaining rice mixture into them. I covered the pan tightly with oil and put it into a preheated 350° oven and baked it for about 45 minutes. This recipe was pretty quick to make and could also have been a great two-stepper: the rice mixture could easily have been made a night or two before (if the peppers had been larger or less fresh I probably would have needed to blanch them after seeding them for 5 minutes or so in a pot of boiling water). I was happy to use up the veggies in my fridge and to...

The first day of fall is still a few weeks away, but for most of us, Labor Day signals the end of summer. And while the coming months offer all kinds of culinary delights (apples, pumpkins, pears) and special occasions (Halloween, Thanksgiving), it's always a little sad to bid adieu to summer and its laid-back approach to cooking, eating, and entertaining, not to mention longer days, sunny skies, and hours by the pool. But don't despair. The best solution to the end-of-summer blues is to celebrate everything that you love about the season with an easy, effortless party. Make the most of summer's last long weekend with our Summer Party Menu Planner. This fun and interactive tool allows you to create a customized menu based on your entertaining needs. All you have to do is answer four simple questions about the type of gathering you're planning. For additional ideas, browse our summer recipes and menus (including the Stunning Summer Supper shown above). And, if you're looking for hosting advice, our Backyard Party Guide features tips from a team of entertaining experts—they offer ideas on music, games, lights, decor, and of course, food and drink. How are you celebrating Labor Day? What's on your menu?

A number of cookbooks with step-by-step photos are due out this Fall. The Illustrated Step-by-Step Cook available in September will have more than 300 recipes and more than 1,000 photos. In November, Clarkson Potter will release Rachael Ray’s Look + Cook, with 225 all-new recipes and 600 four-color photos. Finally Phaidon is publishing an American version of What to Cook and How to Cook It: The Ultimate Step-by-Step Illustrated Cookbook by British food writer Jane Hornby. It will have 100 recipes, but more than 850 color photographs showing the ingredients, quantities, kitchen equipment, and cooking steps. These books mirror the style of recipes found on some popular photo-heavy food blogs, like The Pioneer Woman. The question is, do illustrated recipes teach people to cook? Or are they just "food porn"? I'm not sure. I learned to cook with someone in the kitchen, either my mother or the family I lived with in Italy. While images help, and videos are even better, they don't incorporate the other senses one uses when cooking such as smell, touch and most importantly, taste. For some recipes from cuisines I am not very familiar with, I prefer to know what the dish tastes like before I try cooking it, other times I'll take a chance when I feel I can really trust the author. How did you learn to cook? What do you think is the best way for people to learn - illustrated cookbooks, cooking television shows, videos, recipes, demonstrations, classes, or in the kitchen?

Just in time for Rosh Hashanah is The Kosher Baker: Over 160 Dairy-free Recipes from Traditional to Trendy (Brandeis University Press/University Press of New England) by Paula Shoyer. The French-trained pastry chef expands the kosher baker's repertoire beyond the traditional dairy-free baked goods of honey cake, hamantaschen, and flourless chocolate cake (the last being a favorite for Passover). A multitude of classic French pastry recipes—as well as other baked goods usually made with dairy—now meet Jewish dietary restrictions, thanks to Shoyer. Say hello to buttercream icing, petit fours, éclairs, and scones! For anyone who's not familiar with kosher guidelines, Shoyer simply states that "this means that any dessert following a meat meal must be 'parve'—neither meat nor dairy." Margarine, soy milk, and even dairy-free chocolates all find their place on her list of baking ingredients which lists brands already certified as parve. Each recipe has storage advice (for how long, in the fridge or in the freezer), particularly helpful for anyone who observes Shabbat. But what's especially good about the cookbook is that it's great for anyone who no longer consumes dairy but wants to bake and continue enjoying delicious baked goods. And with 25 eggless recipes, vegans can rejoice, too. Recipes to try: - Sweet Honey and Saffron Challah - Sablé Galette Cookie - Mocha Matzoh Napoleon Still planning your Rosh Hashanah dinner? Check out our Rosh Hashanah recipes and menus, including a French-Jewish dinner menu from Joan Nathan.

After basil desserts, pesto sounds pretty pedestrian, but it was the talk of our Greenmarket this a.m., with everyone grasping for huge bunches of aromatic green. So I guess I can pass along my little revelation after my overbooked consort, on one of his time-is-worth-more-than-money days, sprang for a tiny container of commercial pesto. It was 6 bucks, which struck me as insane until I did the math. And realized I've been doing it wrong. Over the years I've cut back on the olive oil and the Parmigiano and I've substituted pecans for the pine nuts. No wonder my pesto is so different from store-bought. It should be an extravagant sauce (no matter that it comes from one of the poorer parts of Italy). So when I made my second batch of the summer I was less miserly and we're both amazed at how good the stuff is. Pecans work, but those chunks of buttery pine nuts make it. So does lots of good oil, which also helps retain the bright color (mine goes black as a cut avocado). It probably seems nuts for me to be talking about spending more when eggs aren't involved, but the message here is partly that pesto is something you should make only in late summer. Mega-bunches of Kernan Farms basil, enough for nearly a quart of pesto, were all of $3 today. Even supermarkets should be carrying it for less than they charge the rest of the year. (Should be.) I am sticking with my old technique for freezing pesto, though: Leave out the cheese, which turns watery when it thaws. Just add it freshly grated, on some gray day this winter.

Apart from keeping empty seats next to you on a crowded subway train, there's really no upside to garlic breath. And since we all want to enjoy garlic's taste and health benefits, we're constantly on the lookout for breath-freshening tricks after a garlicky meal. Fennels seeds are offered at Indians restaurants to cut the garlic smell, and some people swear by chewing a coffee bean or eating parsley or lemon peel. Tic Tacs help in a pinch. Now, however, researchers at Ohio State University have determined that the most effective way to neutralize the sulfur-causing compunds released by garlic is to drink a glass of full-fat milk with your meal. In the study published in the Journal of Food Science and reported by the BBC, the scientists say that mixing the garlic in your mouth with milk works better than drinking the milk after the meal. Milk attacks allyl methyl sulphide, an element of garlic that can't be broken down by the digestive system and is eliminated from the body in breath and sweat. "Plain water, and some foods, such as mushrooms and basil, may also help neutralize garlic smells," reports the BBC. Do you have any garlic-breath-banishing tips to share?

Looking for the ultimate power lunch? Want to learn how to make classic Indian and French dishes from two masters? Interested in cooking with and for your kids? You'll want to buy our $35 tickets to the daytime food events at Epicurious Entertains NYC. For the cost of a taxi ride from Manhattan to Brooklyn you can get some of the finest eats this side of the East River, learn cooking secrets from Madhur Jaffrey and Dorie Greenspan, or see how simple it is to cook up a pear crisp with your child. Grab the last tickets today!

We all have basil to thank for making life far more flavorful. What would Italian cuisine (or Thai, or Vietnamese, or Greek) be without it? This fragrant herb is a surefire addition to savory dishes, but, as I'm discovering, it's a beautiful note in sweet dishes and desserts, too. Case in point: This morning as I was making a smoothie with banana and blueberries, I decided to throw in a few basil leaves left over from the night before. (I know, I'm a genius. Though I can't take all the credit: I saw it on menu at a nearby cafe.) The result was a drool-worthy upgrade of a basic smoothie recipe: The basil is very subtle, yet the flavor adds life and contrast to the fruit. I was recently at a restaurant where basil sorbet was served. Again, divine. It was mint green, and the distinct smell hit my nose before I even got to taste it. I don't even remember what else came with it. I was enamored by the sorbet. These two experiences led me to check out Epi for some basil-infused desserts. I found this Pink Peppercorn Pavlova with Strawberries Vanilla Cream and Basil Syrup, which I have every intention of making at my next dinner party. In fact we have over 20 dessert recipes with basil, from a Blueberry Basil Granita to Lemon Cakes with Basil Lemon Syrup. Have you tried any sweets with basil, or other herbs like rosemary and thyme?

True to their name, Indulge Caramel's new sauces are an indulgence. Each one, plain or hot, is rich, decadent, and full of buttery caramel flavor ($6.50 for 10 oz). And, while they do contain corn syrup (these are packaged dessert sauces after all), each one has only seven ingredients. The plain version, which is simply called The Sauce, features a good dose of cinnamon that rounds out the flavor and cuts the sweetness. It was pretty amazing when warmed and poured over vanilla ice cream but come Thanksgiving, I plan to drizzle this caramel over apple pie. Another idea: Spread the caramel between cake layers for an easy, thermometer-less take on caramel cake. The Hot Sauce gets its jolt from cayenne and that jolt is just the way I like it. Almost indiscernible at first, the heat builds slowly and lingers. And it's never fiery, just warm and tingly on the tongue. Ice cream is probably this sauce's perfect partner; there's something irresistible about the juxtaposition of frozen creamy ice cream and hot, spicy caramel. I tried vanilla but chocolate might be even more interesting (combine a little of both sauces for South of the Border flavor). One thing to keep in mind: While the jars suggest enjoying the sauces hot or cold, warming instructions aren't provided. In my not-so-new microwave, on about 70 percent power, these sauces were bubbling in less than 30 seconds. Indulgence in a flash.

I'll get into more detail later, but for now suffice it say that I've been doing some travelling while I was away from Epi, and that I ate many, many things. And this was one of them. What was it, and where did I eat it? Two hints: That's coconut broth, and I paid for it in feathers. I'll tell you the answer on Monday.

Celebrate Labor Day, celebrate local food and drink, celebrate friends and community. There are as many reasons to celebrate as there are festivals this week - what's happening where you live? Nevada: Best in the West Nugget Rib Cook-Off (Sept. 1-6) Florida: Flavor Palm Beach (Sept. 1-30) Pennsylvania: 5th Annual Savor Pittsburgh Benefit (Sept. 2) California: Food & Wine's First Annual Taste of Beverly Hills (Sept. 2-5) Louisiana: 75th Annual Louisiana Shrimp & Petroleum Festival (Sept. 2-6) Alabama: Alabama Butterbean Festival (Sept. 3-4) Minnesota: 46th Annual Wild Rice Days (Sept. 3-4) Texas: World Championship BBQ Goat Cook-Off (Sept. 3-4) Utah: 13th Annual Peach Days (Sept. 3-4) California: Sonoma Wine Country Weekend (Sept. 3-5) Kansas: Clyde Watermelon Festival (Sept. 3-5) Colorado: 27th Annual "A Taste of Colorado" (Sept. 3-6) Nevada: Annual Hearts O'Gold Cantaloupe Festival (Sept. 3-6) Prince Edward Island, Canada: Fall Flavours (Sept. 3-30) Virginia: The Irvington Stomp (Sept. 4) Washington: 64th Annual Seafood Festival & Craft Show (Sept. 4) Hawaii: Okinawan Festival (Sept. 4-5) Vermont: 15th Annual Garlic & Herb Festival (Sept. 4-5) Tennessee: Tennessee Soybean Festival (Sept. 4-12) New York: Asian "Feastival" (Sept. 6)

Some days I can Tweet 500 times without a reaction. But let me ask a facetious question about whether eggs can be considered deviled if they don't contain mustard and answers come out of the Twitterwork. I was just snarking about a recipe in a new cookbook for "deviled eggs" that included only a pinch of cayenne, which certainly wouldn't do it for me. Deviled means seasoned hot, like hell. I use a ton of mustard plus cayenne (or Tabasco or a hotter chile powder) plus curry powder and, if I have them, chives. A few years ago I did a piece on deviling because it's such a great concept, especially with crab. According to John Mariani's Dictionary of American Food and Drink, it goes way back in this country's kitchens: Washington Irving in 1820 used the adjective for "a highly seasoned dish similar to a curry." You hear it most often modifying eggs now, of course (as opposed to devilish eggs, the ones produced in Iowa that have been recalled). I would have snarked about the whole idea of deviled eggs even needing a recipe. But I have to admit mine never taste as satisfying as someone else's, at least to me. If you're making them for the last summer weekend, what's the trick? Just don't say hold the mustard. (This Dijon, by the way, is a couple of dollars cheaper than Maille and just as good if not better, plus it's made in France rather than Canada.)

At Serbia's Seventh Annual World Testicle Cooking Championship (yes, there have been six already), chefs and judges were feeling, well, ballsy about the dishes showcasing testicles from ostrich, kangaroo, bull, boar, and camel. The Guardian reports the testes were used as pizza toppings, bathed in bechamel, and made into a vegetable stew. No news on what was served for dessert.

When you are an adult, you tend to follow the sport you grew up watching and playing. For me that is tennis. Unfortunately, I am challenged in the areas of speed and coordination, so I was a much better fan than player and grew up going to the US Open. I've continued the tradition with my boys, who are way better players and more knowledgeable fans than I will ever be. For me, the one letdown of the tournament has been the food but in the last few years, the USTA has started to pay attention to the fare. They've realized one of the world's top tennis tournaments in one of the world's top food cities needs to have top-tier dining options. So while choices at Arthur Ashe stadium remain $7 hot dogs and $5 waffle fries and the Food Court offers a bit more (especially very long lines), there is a good new alternative. The South Plaza Master Chef Cafe, opposite Arthur Ashe, is serving up aces: Susan Feniger, Rick Moonen, Jonathan Waxman, Tony Mantuano, and Carmen Gonzalez have contributed signature dishes to the menu including pulled pork on a brioche, hanger steak paninos, carne asado tacos, and a shrimp "dog" with Asian slaw. And all for a buck or two more than waffle fries. That's what I call a master stroke.

For inspiration, I often look at British and Australian cookbooks, food magazines and newspaper sections. The British and Australians cook differently than we do, sometimes using different flavor combinations. I've noticed the combination of rosewater and rhubarb often. I have bookmarked recipes for Rosewater rhubarb and panna cotta, Rhubarb gelato wafer with rose water, and here on Epicurious, Roast rhubarb with rose water and strawberry sorbet. Last year I discovered a fantastic spice mix available from Juliet Mae called Moroccan Baharat Cinnamon Rose Blend. It's a combination of organic teas rose petals and cinnamon in a fine powder. It was such an exotic and fragrant spice blend I had fun experimenting with it and finding different places to use it. I sprinkled it on fresh fruit, yogurt and cakes. I thought about using it with rhubarb, but then I decided to use the more commonly available rosewater instead. I like the idea of pungent and fragrant spices to complement intensely tangy rhubarb. I roasted fresh rhubarb with sugar, a pinch of cinnamon and some water, then added the delicate rosewater once the fruit had cooled. The sugar and water and cinnamon created a sweet, gooey red sauce that tempered the sour fruit. It's delicious by itself but is also good with yogurt, creme fraiche, or vanilla ice cream. What do you think of this combination? I'm pretty sure it would make a fabulous ice cream. How would you use it?