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This site will stay up but inactive for another few months. Then it will disappear into the ether. Or wherever websites go when they leave the web.

But first, a word about indulgences. Yes. You should have indulgences. But let them be indulgences. A frosted cake like this is not for every day, or even every other day. It's for a celebration, a party, a work, church, or synagogue event.

I guess I feel compelled to say this because Bruce and I do a fair amount of work inside the "wellness" industry. It's work we believe in. Our monthly column at weightwatchers.com ("Sundays in the Kitchen with Bruce and Mark") reflects the way we cook on a daily basis. And frankly, there aren't too many desserts in the weekly routine. We usually finish off dinner with a piece of fruit--or now, in the dead of winter, when even the citrus is getting dodgy, with some incredibly juicy dates from Oasis Date Gardens. (Check them out here.) But once in a while, we go for the carrot cake. Because it's so darn delicious.

So on to it.

Last week, I needed to make a dessert to take to the book group I lead at the Norfolk, Connecticut, library. (It was the first discussion of four over two months on George Eliot's MIDDLEMARCH. We're nothing if not serious!) I thought about this recipe from a long time ago, back when Bruce created it for THE ULTIMATE COOK BOOK. I dug it out and voilà, the American classic, reinvented as a somewhat simpler sheet cake.

We'll do take this recipe in two parts: in this post, the cake; then the frosting, a cream cheese wonder (which you can find here). As you know, carrot cake is a ridiculous indulgence. No, you shouldn't eat it every week. Or even every month. But once in a while, it's nice to dig out an old stand-by and have at it. I hope you'll try this one--and it'll become one of your favorites, too.

Still, there's something gorgeous about this time of year. The beech and birch trees, like bare white or gray poles, extend to the robin's egg sky. The crystal white snow is never dirty in the country, like that city slush of grime and God knows what, but instead is a pure canvas, brilliant and eye-popping. Even the chill is a morning pick-up. My first deep breath when I let the dog out is the moment I know I'm really awake. It's better than coffee!

Here's a six-serving soup I made for Bruce on a recent cold evening. Leftovers were terrific the next day! It's not an authentic Thai preparation but a good, old-fashioned, American soup, renovated with Thai flavors. It's one of the many soups in COOKING KNOW-HOW. It's sure to become a winter favorite at your house.

Okay, I'm still in bed by 11:00 p.m. But I get the day a little more. It's a chance to take stock, to look back, to look ahead. It's a chance to breathe, particularly at the end of a busy holiday season.

I'm still not too good at resolutions, but here's one for you: get out of the kitchen more quickly. You know we're all about that around here. After all, we teamed with COOKING LIGHT to write the tome on the matter. (Click here if you want to know more.)

So in keeping with a new year filled with great, healthy, but fast meals, here's one of my favorite from the book: a bulgur salad with a Mexican flare, complete with a citrus-jalapeño vinaigrette. It's just the thing for lunch--at home, at your desk, or on the run. It's also so easy that you only have to turn on your stove to boil water! Now that's the way to start the year off right.

For four servings, combine 1 cup (160 grams) fine-grain, whole-grain bulgur in a large bowl with 1 cup (240 ml) boiling water. Cover and set aside for 30 minutes or until the liquid has been absorbed. (Never had whole-grain bulgur? Check it out here.)

Stir in 1 3/4 cups (425 grams) drained and rinsed canned black beans, 1 small chopped zucchini, 1 cup (125 grams) corn kernels, 3/4 cup (85 grams) chopped Monterey Jack, and 3 tablespoons minced cilantro leaves.

In a small bowl, whisk 1/4 cup (60 ml) orange juice, 1/4 cup (60 ml) lime juice, 2 tablespoons seeded minced jalapeño chile, 1 tablespoon (15 ml) olive oil, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper. Pour this over the bulgur mixture; toss gently. Serve the salad at room temperature or cover and chill for up to 2 days.

For this post, I’m so glad to be a part of Muffin Monday, an initiative by Anuradha of Baker Street. What I’m bringing to the 6 month anniversary party is a savory muffin. Go out to Baker Street and check out all the fun!

Savory muffins may be a surprise for some people. Yes, there’s still sugar in the batter, mostly to build good crumb and structure with the eggs and oil. That said, because savory muffins are so loaded down with “extras”—here, with bacon, onion, cornmeal, and cheese—they don’t necessarily develop the characteristic puffed top of sweeter muffins.

Still and all, they’re a treat for breakfast—or a great mid-day break. Even better these muffins freeze well. Seal them in a plastic bag and keep them in the freezer for up to 4 months. Thaw several under a clean kitchen towel on the counter overnight and you’re ready for a savory breakfast the next morning!

Let’s get to the recipe.

Lemon chess pie is a Southern classic. I brought it to book group last week. We were discussing HUCKLEBERRY FINN. Seemed appropriate, this Southern favorite.

People from Virginia claim the pie as a statewide right. I also had it "coming up" in Texas. But I did a little research this weekend and found that some of the first printed recipes are in nineteenth-century New England cookbooks. Woops. Well, traditions get "swapped around" as Huck would say.

As to the name, some claim it's a dialectical derivation of "just." As in: "What is that?" "It's just pie." "It's jest pie." "It's jess pie." "It's chess pie."

No matter where or what the tradition, my version of chess pie is made without corn syrup--more real food, please. So the top is a little browner than the cafeteria versions prominent across the South. And a little less gelatinous. Mine's also got lots of lemon in it to balance the sweet.

It's about the best dessert for a winter day. Or just about any day. Make the coffee. Chess pie is almost ready.

These are the late days of fall that we savor in New England. Our bits of heaven. The tourists are gone: the summer renters, the leaf-peepers. The roads are empty. Really, if you want to visit New England, plan a trip around this time of year. You'll have the place to yourself. And you can end up with some glorious days.

If you can't get to New England soon, try this traditional dish from our neck of the woods: chicken stewed with apple cider. It's a great, fall perk-up, a lovely dinner whenever the air is crisp. For about 4 to 6 servings, here's how it goes:

One of the things that brings me peace is breakfast. No joke. I have it every morning. I don't skip, even when we're on photo shoots or at publicity events. For me, breakfast is a quiet time--to read, to write some emails to friends, just to sit with the dog and enjoy the morning.

At home, he and I have a set routine. We come downstairs. I let him out, bleary-eyed, then fix his breakfast. Then I make myself a French-worthy bowl of cafe latte and some whole-grain cereal of some sort. In the warmer months, it's granola (which you can find here). In the colder months, it's muesli.

Both are make-aheads that Bruce has squirreled back in the pantry for the weeks ahead. After the jump, I'll tell you how to make some of the tastiest muesli you can imagine.

As you know, we wrote the book on goat. The first ever. And the book's about way more than just goat meat. It's a book about goat dairy, too. That means goat cheese. And yes, goat butter.

Goat butter is fantastic! And I got to tell the world that on a chow video. Check it out. And check out goat butter, too. Use it in brownies, anything with chocolate. You'll be astounded. Promise. I know where you can find a recipe. Just click here.