Some adventurous souls are born chefs; a few are also gifted with the ability to teach and inspire others in the kitchen. Earlier this week James Peterson, the award-winning cookbook author, chef and master teacher of culinary arts came to town. He was here promoting Cooking, his 12th book. I caught up with him at the Book Passage Cooks with Books dinner at the popular Left Bank restaurant.

Peterson arrived early and mingled with the gathering guests. Windsor Andersen and I were sipping our wine when he noticed that I’d brought Sauces, one of his earlier works, for signing. As we chatted he did the honors. A number of his family members and good friends arrived and greeted him warmly. We learned that he grew up nearby before settling in New York.

Guests lined up to get their copies of Cooking signed, then enjoyed a dinner prepared from recipes in the book. All of these events have their own personalities, and this one felt almost like a big family gathering with Peterson moving about the room talking with guests, answering questions and relating stories from his travels and work.

When the appetizers arrived, Peterson told me that the cool, fresh oysters on the half shell with warm saffron hollandaise sauce are one of his personal favorites. I agreed they were sensational—and that says a lot coming from someone who has avoided these little critters for most of my life. I had my first oyster only last year at the Drakes Bay Oyster Company, and consider myself a bit of a novice in their preparation. But after tasting Peterson’s wonderful dish and reviewing the recipe and excellent step-by-step illustrations in his book, I’m inspired to try making a batch at home.   

I knew that Peterson began as a self-taught cook, then built his skills at the Cordon Bleu in Paris and in the kitchens of French restaurants. I was curious when and how he began cooking. He laughed and said he was ten years old and convinced a favorite aunt to help him make crepes suzette. Ambitious from the start, he figured it would be easy. How hard could it be to fry the thin pancakes and make a sauce that required one to rub oranges with sugar cubes to extract the essence of the zest? They had a few problems on that first effort, but Peterson was hooked. Today, crepes suzette is included in Cooking for all to make with confidence and success.

The meal continued to celebrate the season with a wonderful artichoke and toasted walnut salad and a beautifully flavored spring lamb stew. Dessert was three decadent cream puffs with a dark chocolate sauce. Windsor told Peterson that this was the best dessert she’d ever had at Cooks with Books, and he let her know that the sauce was a last-minute addition. He just thought it was a better treat than powdered sugar. Wiping a bit of sauce from her chin, Windsor had to agree.

Get a printable copy of James Peterson’s Spring Lamb Stew.

Cruising the I-5 on a warm spring day while dancing in my seat to the cool sounds of the Buena Vista Social Club… could life get any sweeter? My recent road trip down the California coast to Los Angeles and back home via the Central Valley was a welcome break and a chance to visit the farms and vineyards that provide so much of our food and wine. And let’s face it, road trips are a great excuse for serious eating at funky diners and tempting roadside farm stands.

The great Castroville artichoke fields loomed on the horizon where the Salinas Valley intersects with the Monterey Peninsula. This is Steinbeck country, where the author set many of his classic novels. Its cool, fog-kissed landscape makes this the artichoke capitol of the world. I spotted the Pezzini farm and roadside store and pulled in. Surrounded by fields of tall, lush plants with thousands of globes pointing skyward, I explored a bit and worked up an appetite for their famous fried artichokes.

Inside, a delightful lady prepared my order and told me that freshly harvested artichokes have a sweeter, more intense flavor than the older ones sold in supermarket, which can become slightly bitter. I learned that the popular baby artichokes are fully mature and grow at the bottom of the plants. Unlike the large globes, they don’t have inedible fuzzy centers.

As she worked, I asked how they made their dipping sauce. “It’s homemade ranch dressing created for the ‘universal’ palate,” she explained. “Personally, I like it spicier with grated parmesan cheese. That’s the best.”

I took my piping hot morsels to the field, sat down and dug in. The coating was a bit “bready,” but smooth. She was right about the fresh artichokes—they had a clear, intense flavor that was pure pleasure. The dipping sauce was OK but nothing memorable. I contemplated how I might improve on the dish. The batter should be light and crisp, with a full-flavored sauce that makes the artichokes shine. I finished up and bought a large bag of baby artichokes and some large globes.

Back home in my kitchen, I created a simple beer batter spiced with onion, garlic and chili powders and a little salt and pepper. Panko (Japanese bread crumbs) supplied the perfect crunch while keeping the batter light.

Homemade ranch dressing is more subtle than its bottled and packaged brothers, but it creates a cool first taste that prepares the palate for the initial crunch and final burst of delicious artichoke flavor. I tested the recipes on family and friends over the weekend. Amid stories from the road trip, they gobbled plates of fried artichokes and deemed them beyond wonderful.

Of all the food eaten on the road trip, this was the most memorable—forever tied to Castroville and the amazing artichoke fields that feed people around the world.

Get a printable Fried Artichokes with Home Made Ranch Dressing recipe

The Italians know how to take simple, quality ingredients and make them into memorable culinary delights. Take affogato—a sophisticated, classic dessert created by pouring steaming hot espresso over creamy vanilla ice cream. It’s quick and the perfect ending to a meal. I prepare the affogato at the table for each guest using a variety of pretty glasses; the process makes for great conversation. I’ve found that serving affogato seems to encourage guests to relax and linger long after the dishes are cleared.

And of course, you don’t need company as an excuse to indulge. Recently, I took a few hours off and curled up by the fire with a good book and a glass of affogato. Heaven!

The recipe is simple: Pour ¼ to ½ cup of espresso or strong black coffee over two scoops of ice cream. I usually break with tradition and assemble the affogato in reverse, pouring the espresso into the glass first, then adding the ice cream. That way I get to enjoy a few big, cold lumps of ice cream before the whole thing melts into creamy decadence. Remember, use best-quality ingredients. Absolutely no tinned supermarket coffee or imitation or non-fat ice creams.

Happy eating!

Get a printable Affogato recipe.

Whoo-hoo! It smoked. It gurgled and bubbled, then spewed bright red-orange marshmallow lava over a sinfully dark chocolate cake mountain. Our team and some friends went wild. The photo shoot for baking expert Catherine Christiansen’s April column, Who Doesn’t Lava Good Dessert? was flat-out the most fun I’ve ever had taking pictures.

Catherine sent her recipes and some photos of this awesome birthday cake early in the week. At first glace it seemed complex, but with a bit of planning it was easy and came together quickly. I decided on a dinosaur theme and headed to the cake supply and party stores for small bottles of brilliant red, orange and turquoise food coloring, plastic palm trees, edible rocks, a variety of dinosaurs and long purple and green birthday candles.

This cake is all about fun so don’t get hung up on perfection. Embrace all its lumps, bumps and crumbs—they add character and keep you sane.

I baked the cakes and prepared the black chocolate and green buttercreams and the Kahlúa soaking syrup the day before assembly. Next day, I frosted the cakes, made the sugar lava and lake and colored the marshmallow lava. Assembly was a breeze and great fun. Once the Amazing Volcano was before me in all its glory, I just couldn’t wait to blow it up!

Photographer Windsor Andersen arrived and we readied everything for the shoot. This was going to be a one-time shot with no re-takes so we had to get it right. Everyone gathered behind Windsor and held their breath as I fueled the cake with cubes of dry ice, hot water, and warm lava. Then it started—a little smoke—a few bubbles—lots of hoots and hollers. “That is so cool! I want that cake for my birthday.” “WOW!” Then a tiny voice started singing Happy Birthday with infectious joy. Soon the group joined in a rousing chorus, everyone adding their own names just for fun.

As the lava slowed, we all dug in to the cake and couldn’t believe how good it was. Everyone had a second piece, but I had my mind on the leftover frosting. No matter how delicious—and how spectacular—the cake, it’s hard to beat the thrill of pure buttercream, sneaked on the sly. Give me a spoon.

Get a printable copy of The Amazing Erupting Volcano Cake.

Read Catherine Christiansen’s April column, Who Doesn’t Lava Good Dessert?