• Don't mourn the loss of the summer produce bounty. A guide to the dark leafy greens of fall -- like spinach, collards, Brussels sprouts, rainbow chard and savoy cabbage -- proves autumn has a cornucopia of seasonal vegetables.
• Cookbook author Paula Wolfert reveals her sacred kitchen object, claiming she "never met a pot of clay she didn't like."
• The common chickpea is spiced up with cumin, turmeric, coriander and cayenne.
• Got a hungry man in your life? Lucinda Scala Quinn, author of "Mad Hungry, Feeding Men & Boys" offers ten tips for feeding men (and boys), like "don't ask if they're hungry" and "train them to fend for themselves." After the tips, she cooks up five guy-approved recipes, like "Flat Roast Chicken" and "Steak Pizzaiola."
• Warm up with hearty stews as the weather cools down. Tomatillos, small green tomatoes popular in Mexican cooking, shine in a "lean, mean slow-cooker recipe" with beef eye of round and pinto beans.

As much as I adore my job, I tend to get the Sunday evening blues and have found as of late that labor-intensive cooking projects prove to be wonderfully soothing. It might be a bread knead, a painstakingly crimped lard crust pie, or, as it's manifested for the second week in a row, a unexpectedly soul-stirring risotto. Emphasis is on the "stirring" part, I assure you, as two times now, I've darned near sprained a forearm muscle with the non-stop drag of the wooden spoon through the ever-thickening starch. It's worth it, though -- the constant, meditative motion -- when it suddenly, palpably, audibly even, transforms the individual rice grains into a sumptuous, silken mass. It's the sort of culinary alchemy that transforms me from a solitary kitchen wretch into someone who suddenly wants to feed everyone she's ever met.

Last week's Acorn Squash Risotto from Mario Batali's Molto Italiano cookbook was a rousing success with my husband, as evidenced by this habitual leftover-snubber's willingness to dig back in on subsequent weeknights. This week's pulled pork variation, made on a whim, was a hearty treat tonight, and I've got a sneaking suspicion the flavors will meld well over the next few days.

Try for yourself. My Pulled Pork Risotto recipe is after the jump, and if you've got any soothing cooking rituals you'd like to share, I'd be more than grateful to hear about 'em.

There's an extra-stabby brand of self-recrimination that comes about when one comes home, mouth slavering for the vegetable stew, several-bean chili or pulled pork shoulder that's occupied one's thoughts all day, only to come home to an air redolent of exactly nothing. No warm waft, no indicator light all a-wink with the tease, nay, promise of a hearty, slow-cooked dinner because (shudder....sob...sigh...) one neglected to actually engage the Crock Pot's "ON" button.

Is there a term for this happenstance and/or the all-day nagging feeling that one's forgotten to flip it on, but is too far from home to remedy the situation? If not, howzabout we put it to a vote? Cast it below, or suggest a better one in the comments.



And lest anyone fret, Jeff later reported that he in fact came home to a lovely, fully-cooked chicken cacciatore.

UPDATE: Commenter Jenna has suggested "crock blocked," which I'm entirely jealous I failed to coin.

My personal favorite cold weather, no barrel smoker, slow-cooker pulled pork recipe is after the jump.

I couldn't believe it. I walked into Powell's Books for Cooks here in Portland, Ore. and scanned the "appliances" shelves. Fondue books took up most of the room - there was nothing on Crock Pots! What gives?

I wandered down the aisle in disgust. And then I saw it. The holy grail. Casserole & One-Dish, the label read. And there was shelf, after shelf, after shelf - hundreds of titles, everything from $3 70s paperbacks to glossy hard-backed coffee table-style tomes.

I picked up Family Circle Casserole Cookery and flipped through the pages. I almost bought it, but it was all cans of this and margarine in that... ick. I opened, and discarded, several glossy, formulaic titles with SLOW COOKER in all caps. Two stood out from the crowd: Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook, a huge one with 350 recipes, everything from breakfast to several kinds of pot roast to dessert; and a slimmer option, The Gourmet Slow Cooker.

Even though it was smaller and more expensive, I was immediately charmed by the style and selection of The Gourmet Slow Cooker. Author Lynn Alley started out talking about the Midas Feast, the first known example of a one-pot meal, analyzed from an archaelogical site in Turkey. Her first recipe? An interpretation of Midas' funereal meal. Her focus is on classic meals, from Provencal beef stew to Dublin Coddle to Chicken Mole to yes, Boston Baked Beans.

I'm now cooking my second dish (Neapolitan Lamb Stew), and I love her simplicity, her lovely photography, and her careful selection of good slow cooking staples. I'd suggest either book, though, depending on whether you're looking for a comprehensive slow cooker bible or a more carefully culled book.

[Photo Sarah Gilbert]