In the summer of 2006 I lost 40 lbs. Today, three years and some months later, the weight is still off and, in addition to staying on track, I’ve lost an additional five pounds. This recipe is a celebration of health and a farewell to my arch-nemesis: the up-and-down roller coaster of diet fads. For this success, I have the folks at SparkPeople to thank. I spent about a year with Sparky, and over those long months of tracking my weight, budgeting my calorie intake and expense, living on the forums, and listening to the advice of nutrition experts, I learned bunches about body maintenance and the negative impact of dieting mentality. That’s not to say I haven’t gone up or down a few pounds in all three years; hell, you can go down a pound or more just by sleeping eight hours. But every time I need to get back on track, I just remind myself of the principles and lessons I learned from Sparky.

Now onto the actual food!

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Unless a blog is dedicated to baking, I frown on attention-starved cooking blogs with a page full of dessert close-up photography. I also frown on most cakes. I usually can’t bring myself to enjoy eating a frosting-covered mound of flour, even to be polite. Other sweets like apple pie à la mode and oatmeal raisin cookies are more tempting, but I can pass them up without much suffering. But chocolate—well, that’s my weakness. I love chocolate, especially 70%-75% dark chocolate. (Milk chocolate is for wusses.) Pair the flavor of pure chocolate with espresso and a dash of salt, and you may as well pry the dessert from the hands of my stiff corpse.

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This recipe was a tasty deviation from regular, old basil pesto and was a wonderful contrast to the cioppino. I particularly liked the tarragon, the fennel, the Kasseri cheese, and the almonds. What was disappointing was the lack of anchovy flavor! Then again, yours truly has never before bought whole fresh anchovies and gutted them by hand, so I had no idea what to expect; I’m more used to the stuff they sell you in a can, which is pungent indeed. Next time I’ll be a little more careful and pair the anchovies with ingredients that complement rather than override.

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No kitchen can truly be great without homemade stock. Stock is the fonds de cuisine, or "the foundation of cooking," and is a major component of rich stews and many excellent sauces. (And as for sauces—well, no aspiring chef or gourmet cook can truly claim fame in the culinary arena without demonstrating command of sauces.) Furthermore, a properly prepared stock made from scratch will always outperform prepackaged stock from the supermarket or stock made from powders; the two cannot even compare. If you haven’t already, do yourself a favor and upgrade your kitchen with a little homemade stock. Prepare stock the night before and refrigerate or make in advance and freeze for up-to several months.

There are at least a dozen, if not several dozen, variations of stock, depending on the ingredients and the methods employed. However, we can usually break down a traditional stock into three basic components:

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As a child I ate from a variety of cuisines which reflected the life and travel of my mother and her mother. My grandmother was a typical White Anglo Saxon Protestant (WASP), famous in the family for her apple pies, her delicious meat-and-potatoes Midwest cuisine, and her generous, welcoming table. She married a missionary of the church and traveled overseas with him to Hokkaidō. There she raised my mother with the help of a Japanese nanny, whom Mom fondly remembers as oba-san. Between my grandmother sharing her apple pies with the locals and, in turn, "oba-san" preparing traditional country-style Japanese meals for the family, my mother grew up in the epicenter of a small cultural exchange. She took this experience with her and traveled to the U.S., France, Spain, Mexico, and other countries, studying language, literature, and, occasionally, new cooking techniques and recipes. Later, she married a third generation Japanese son of Hawaii and adapted some of the recipes for him. I had the pleasure of enjoying the accumulated results descended through the line of women in my family.

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