Gazpacho. Photo: Emily Farris, Fifty Bucks a Week.

Each week, we round up the top food articles we've spied Web-wide. This week, a special edition of our own bloggers' primo pieces from elsewhere on the Web.

Pervaiz Shallwani boards a bus with a stripper pole alongside a bunch of bartenders to harvest rye in upstate New York ... for Gourmet ... really.

"Mad Men" fiend Eric Diesel reveals his recipe for perfectly "clean" martinis -- a 2-to-1 gin-to-vermouth concoction at his Urban Home blog.

Mike Pomranz on the phenomenon of a cat opening a jar of food at Comedy Central.

Bruce Watson reports at sister site DailyFinance that the United States may "run out of sugar" in the next year!

Cook and film buff Monika Bartyzel notes that Michael Moore might be done with the documentary style that made him famous, for Cinematical.

Gretchen Roberts, our savvy sommelier-in-training, offers freebie gourmet treats at her wine blog Vinobite.

CoffeeMeister Erin Meister makes peace with the five-second-rule over at her culinary blog, the Nervous Cook.

Joshua M. Bernstein visits Scores, a Manhattan strip club, to eat steak (again, really!) for the New York Press.

Emily Farris tries to toe the budget line with a basic, beautiful gazpacho at Fifty Bucks a Week.

Peach jam. Photo: FL4Y, Flickr

As you've read here, home canning, once an expected part of a homemaker's vocabulary of skills, is experiencing a resurgence. The revival is partly due to economics: According to Martin Franklin, chairman of the Jarden Corporation (home of the Ball jar), home preserving experiences a spike in popularity during lean times.

It's also got something to do with the pleasures of canning your own food. Selecting and preparing the ingredients, gathering supplies and getting them ready and mustering the necessary focus is rewarded with several jars of something gorgeous, nutritious and tasty that will amplify a meal in the cold months.

What treat is nicer on an icy morning than fresh jam? Upon opening it, the eater is greeted with the sunny fragrance of fruit that once hung heavy on its limb or vine. Upon tasting it, memories come alive of the orchard, woodland and garden.

After the jump, an original recipe for a spicy peach jam to slather on autumnal scones, dribble on winter waffles or spread on humble anytime toast. Once you get the hang of canning, it's really simple, so go ahead: Grab a bushel of peaches while they're plentiful, and seal some summer into a jar.

Heirloom tomato salad. Photo: Eric Diesel

If you're lucky enough to live near a farmers market, don't forget to thank your local farmer and gardener for that sparkling-fresh produce, especially those who grow heirloom vegetables and fruits. In addition to growing delicious produce, they're cultivating history, right on the vine.

Though there are some differences of opinion about its exact definition, an heirloom variety of fruit or vegetable is generally agreed to be one that has been cultivated for at least 50 years. Beans are an heirloom veggie ever-growing in popularity, but the food that truly sings of summer is the tomato.

Heirloom tomatoes are beginning to appear in gardens, at roadside stands and lining produce aisles. In honor of the unique flavors and colors of these beauties, beyond the jump is an original recipe for a summer tomato salad: history you can eat. But remember to save some seeds -- preserving them is the least we can do for these species that give so much to us.

French vegetable tian. Photo: Eric Diesel.

Bastille Day occurs at the height of summer, when summer vegetables are clamoring for attention from rows and stakes in the garden and tumbling out of bushel baskets in the marketplace. The shiny, waxen skins of eggplant and zucchini beckon the home cook to the pleasures of vegetables fresh from the embrace of sunshine and soil. Fat, juicy tomatoes are plentiful, as are fragrant bundles of leeks and fresh herbs.

Provençal cooking celebrates the earthy traditions of the French countryside and southern France in general, with food as simple and good as bread, wine, cheese. A tian -- a layered, baked vegetable dish that originated in Provence but is also common to city kitchens -- is the perfect complement to this French holiday. Unlike a gratin, a tian does not include bread crumbs or cheese, which allows the juices in the vegetables to evaporate in the oven's dry heat, concentrating their flavors.

Beyond the jump is an original recipe for tian of summer vegetables, which has been streamlined for the home cook while retaining fidelity to the original French dish. Serve this with your Bastille Day poulet, boeuf or pouisson, and watch as wine glasses around the table clink and diners agree: "Vive la France!"

Corn relish. Photo: bookgrl/ Flickr.

As summer kicks into high gear, roadside stands and greenmarkets are bustling with fresh produce.

Fresh herbs, cut just that morning, perfume the air: sultry thyme, sprightly parsley and rosemary for remembrance. Sweet onions tumble out of bushel baskets and into burlap bags. Piles of peppers fight for your attention in red, green, orange, yellow and even black. And who can resist fresh ears of satiny corn?

As you lug all of your fresh produce home, don't worry -- as always, we've got your back. Beyond the jump is an original recipe to use that corn, those peppers and those onions to make a quick, fresh corn relish.

This relish has a Southwestern twang, but it can accompany virtually anything coming off of your grill for Fourth of July barbecues, from juicy burgers and seared steaks to perfectly smoked chicken. And if the summer corn is too irresistible to resist buying a bushel, you can double the recipe and send some home with your guests.

You've seen that sliced-up green apple sitting up top aside the Slashfood logo. Perhaps you've pondered its culinary potential -- the crisp snap of that bright green skin, the half-sweet/half-tart flavor that is the special domain of the Granny Smith apple.

Voila. Slashfood sorbet!

In sorbet, a single element is distilled into an intense burst of flavor. It should be so vivid that only a bite is necessary. Perhaps you're most familiar with it as an intermezzo to cleanse the palate, in a fluted paper cone to hold while walking alongside your companion and his gelato or in scoops piled high in a frosty parfait glass almost too cold to touch.

After the jump, an original recipe for a gorgeous green apple Slashfood Sorbet. We challenge you to only eat one bite.

We all saw Sideways -- heck, to some of us, it's not just a movie, it's a manifesto. So we know that we're supposed to admire Pinot Noir and barely tolerate Merlot (it's not the demon grape it's made out to be).

The folks at Castle Rock winery are contributing to the dialog on Pinot Noir, and they put their answer in bottles.

Castle Rock currently bottles juice from seven species of grape, each chosen by informed vintner magic from its own West Coast microclimate with the appellation noted on the bottle.

Thus Castle Rock Chardonnay drinkers are choosing bottles from either the Russian River Valley or the Central Coast, Syrah drinkers choosing between Columbia Valley and Sonoma, and so forth.

In the wine as in the geography, the star grape is Pinot Noir, which for the 2007 vintage offers bottles from eight appellations. Some are easy to come by and some are selling out, and I can't pretend to have tried all eight (though I'm working my way through the list).

But I can pass along a few notes on those I have tried, which perhaps will inspire you to consider these sturdy, poetic Pinots the next time you're looking for a bottle to open with dinner.

My suggestions after the jump.

A Foodie's Notes on the Vernal Equinox:

We very rarely had snow where I grew up, but as I stood at my grandmother's apron strings, I was taught to respect the turning of the seasons.

Winter was cold enough for the warming comfort food most of us still associate with it -- steaming bowls of soup, pot roast in rich gravy, hot coffee and cake to go with it.

Summer meant barbecue, soft drinks ("pop" to grandma, and we never got it except at cookouts) and pies bubbling with the best of the summer fruit while less perfect specimens were packed into canning jars by an assembly line of women working in the basement of the church.

Autumn was pumpkin, apples and turkey as we got ready for Halloween and Thanksgiving. And spring ... well, spring was getting ready for Easter.

On the weekend of the Equinox, my grandmother changed all of the household linens -- sheets to tea towels -- from winter's cream and evergreen to her favorite shades of sky blue and butter yellow.

That Monday, she set up the glass pots with thermometers that clipped onto the sides, steel baking sheets that unrolled like April thunder and vials of curiously intense flavor extracts that heralded Easter candy-making. Always planning, (Depression-era housekeepers needed no time management coaching), she made candy in the mornings before turning her attention to lunch and the afternoon errands.

Keep reading about why a chiffon cake is an important statement of spring awakening after the jump.

In a previous life as a non-blogging private citizen, I enjoyed many spirited e-mail exchanges concerning sightings of that wondrous denizen of the deep, the behemoth squid. How fervid our imaginations were in picturing this colossal beast contentedly lurking in the deepest waters or rousing surfaceward to feast upon plankton and (in our imaginations if not in reality) the occasional shipwreck survivor.

Just imagine my pleasure when, during a post-dinner walk this weekend, I encountered the Nemo Whisk. Yes, it is just what it sounds like: a kitchen whisk whose handle design is a squid. And that's appropriate: in lesser dimensions than behemoth, squid graces many a table -- dipped in cornmeal and deep fried, carved into sushi or sashimi, even wiggling as fondant across the top of a cake.

Like the best design, the idea informs the execution -- in this instance, an animal whose cylindrical body lends itself to the handle shape and function and whose eyes are routinely described as "the size of a dinner plate" can whip up your eggs before they land on that selfsame plate -- a task it handles just fine if without threat to your favorite balloon whisk.

The Nemo Whisk and numerous other delights are offered courtesy of Pylones, a French company whose schtick is creating whimsical daily-use items. Mais oui, they work in themes beyond "squid." If we're still talking about eggs, use a chicken timer to boil yours after using a hen bag to carry your shopping list and your money to the grocer's. Pepper your eggs using a pepper mill in themes from Pirate to Native American and then nestle them in coordinating egg cups. Perhaps you'd like an elephant funnel, a dachshund cake server, an Eiffel Tower grater or demitasse spoons crowned with fancy chocolates? Or, simply, Melamine dinnerware printed with a jumble of tempting candy, plump red strawberries, an anchovy pizza or (if you must) a nice healthy salad?

If you like Pylones, they have an easy to use Web site and free-standing stores in New York City. Their merchandise is available at numerous online merchants -- start here.

Pie-making is a true expression of a cook's love: of ingredients, of process, of feeding hungry people something good to eat. For cooks, the pie is the hug, but how about a pie you can hug? We're way ahead of state fair blue-ribbon season, but in one shopfront at the venerable etsy they believe in being prepared for contests beyond pie-baking and pie-eating. Buggabug's shop features not just a menu but a feast of patterns for creating your own huggable food easily and inexpensively from felt.

The Blue Ribbon Pie collection features lemon meringue, cherry, pumpkin, even grasshopper. If that's not enough to satisfy your sweet tooth, try tea cakes, doughnuts, cupcakes, cinnamon rolls -- even a box of Valentine's day chocolates. A lumberjack's pancake breakfast will get your day going, and after the whistle blows, why not unwind with some Chinese take-out and a movie?

If you take a cup of tea with your pie, Martha Stewart shows you how to make adorable teacup pincussions. If your pie of choice is cherry, Martha has her take on that as well. So does Better Homes and Gardens, where embroiderers can try your hand at this cherry redwork pillow (free log-in required). Finally, yarn expressionists can try this cherry pie slice at craftbits.

All of these projects are simple to intermediate to accomplish. And if your favorite way of pie crafting is the old-fashioned one -- rolling out dough and lining a tin with it, tossing fruit with sugar and spices, artfully layering a top crust over the filling, and putting the whole thing into a hot oven -- then slashfood can help you with that. Though we're not averse to the crafts of cooking, our heart is still with the craft of cooking.

With spring on the ascendant in the northern hemisphere, is it any wonder that every year at this time bugs emerge from their chrysalises as a primary design theme for tableware? Insects are the harbingers of springtime – dragonflies buzzing above lily pads in response to the raincalls of frogs; bees humming among the first blossoms; beetles scrambling among soft pads of new moss. Here are some ways in which insects fly, flap, drone, burrow, inch, crawl, sidle, skitter and hum onto spring tables -- hopefully not in person (at least until the ants remember that picnic season is about to begin).

Dragonflies. There are bugs on the Bush legacy White House china; and Kate Spade china has bugs for your table. The June Lane china pattern features a beautifully detailed dragonfly rendered in either gold or silver leaf which perfectly captures this bug's gossamer magic. With china registries down, this pattern might become endangered, so get buzzing if you want to register this place setting.

Butterflies. If as a naturalist you're a colorist, butterflies are aflutter at Target. With their butterfly porcelain collection, you can tickle your palate from vessels showing off a palette of brightly colored butterflies. Vividly colored salad plates are inexpensive, so treat yourself to the matching platter. If your palate's palette is woodsy, take a look at the botanical print-inspired John Derian offerings.

While on weekend food safari (scored: manchego, kraeme kase, smoked mozzarella, soppresata, genoa salami and muffaletta for Oscars antipasti), I was reminded that there is nothing like a Manhattan supermarket. If you only experience the city through media, you might never think that urban superpeople on the move need to buy groceries, so somehow it's touching to be among us when we do. For those who've never had the pleasure: picture a supermarket where there's barely room to maneuver yourself, let alone a cart, and then picture that space full of lifers piloting push-carts filled with whatever can be stored in tiny kitchenettes.

Another secret of urban foraging is the Roland Corporation, a New York City-based food importer whose offerings grace my cupboards in every format from tinned anchovies for Caesar salad to fragrant pumpkinseed oil for the accompanying pasta. Someone at Roland knows me and my kind: we orthodox mustardphiliacs cannot enter a space where condiments are vended without investigating what treats the mustard aisle is offering. And that's how, in a Chelsea Gristedes, I discovered Roland Tarragon Mustard.

As a dedicated Slashfoodie, you've already noticed that for Valentine's Day, we at Slashfood wrote a lot about such expressions of romantic appreciation as were appropriate for general readership. We introduced you to chocolate from Askinosie, Dagoba and Green & Blacks. Hopefully you're not too chocolated-out after the weekend for just one more bite. Because if the chocolate is Escazu, you will want to make room.

Escazu is a town in Costa Rica and a chocolatier in Raleigh, North Carolina. According to the Escazu website, chocolatier Hallot Parson formed Escazu Artisan Chocolates after travels through Venezuela and Costa Rica, including visits to the cocoa farms. Thus was born -- perhaps more accurately bloomed -- the vision of artisinal chocolate executed with respect to chocolate's Latin American heritage.

You might wonder what a tidbit about a jewelry designer is doing among the nibbles and bites we usually share at Slashfood, and one click to Rachael Sudlow's website will give you the answer. You may prefer to eat your veggies rather than wear them, but this designer and photographer (RISD '05) creates jewelry that makes your mouth water -- even if peas are your forbidden food.

Sudlow interprets pea pods in a variety of stones as earrings ($42 - $43), necklaces ($37 -- $50), even a keychain ($42). If you prefer sweets to savories, there's a metal cupcake ring ($55). Outside of Sudlow's site, limited edition oyster earrings lurk in the waters of a storefront on Mintd, while Etsy offers Sudlow's cranberry earrings and a tasty ice cream cone pendant.

If Sudlow's work or name looks familiar to you, it might be because she is the artist who made drinking glasses by repurposing liquor bottles. Whether you drink your handcraftsmanship or wear it, take a look at Sudlow's work – you may find your self giving these peas a chance.

Yes, you read that right. Thanks to the modern phenomenon of solutions to problems no one has, there exists concept design for a device which, depending on your viewpoint, is genius, preposterous, useless, or somewhere between the three. Please meet the CHOMPr hamburger grasper, which according to the copy is "a conceptual hamburger grasping device for high-end restaurants." Looking like two coffee tables from a dollhouse from the Eames era held together by those pins Ikea gives you to keep your bookshelf from collapsing, the CHOMPr seeks to ameliorate the conflict between the informal process of eating a hamburger and formal surroundings.

To some, whether you need a hamburger grasping device beyond those at the ends of your arms is sort of, well, silly. But it is very interesting as an etiquette question, because it raises the related issues of utensils as a dimension of table manners and hands as a dimension of utensils. For the former, utensils are a mark of civilization precisely because they aren't your hands, and the development of utensils has followed a trajectory more or less complimentary to the Industrial Revolution, culminating in the Victorian era, when a fully outfitted silver trousseau could top out at 500 pieces and counting.