We all have our own rituals for fall Sunday afternoons. Some guys sit around and watch football; for me it takes only about a quarter before I need a nap. Others feel inspired to take up household projects; the less said about my ability with a hammer the better.
Instead, I cook. Well, I cook all year round, but when the days start to cool and the light turns golden, I get more ambitious. Rather than 30 minutes at the grill, I throw myself into hours-long kitchen projects. This year, it's been lasagna.
It started in late September. I had just gotten back from the farmers market when I heard that Marcella Hazan had died. I looked over everything that I had bought and in her honor immediately started making dough for fresh pasta. And peeling and seeding tomatoes and turning them into sauce. And making a Parmesan-enriched white sauce. And blanching, chopping and sauteing beet greens. And then putting it all together. All of a sudden it was dinner time.
There's nothing like lasagna from scratch to while away a lazy Sunday afternoon.
After returning from a two-week holiday stay with family in Rhode Island, Jeff and I were in a bit of a funk. San Diego suddenly seemed too quiet, too sunny, too bland. We missed the crunch of snow beneath
our feet, the hearty bowls of quahog chowder and the sight of a pink
and orange Dunkin' Donuts on every street corner. More than anything,
we missed the accents. 
I have found the answer to beating the summer heat. I am really not interested in sweating over the stove or oven when it comes to making summertime dessert.
Every Mardi Gras, I have been wanting to make a King Cake for the kids. I just never seem to have the extra time. So when I came across an easy idea to make this happen, I went for it.
I live my life according to these Four Culinary Truths: