by Beth Goulart

In November, the U.S. Department of Labor's Bureau of Labor Statistics published the results of its 2007 Consumer Expenditure Survey. Sounds boring enough. But there's a category for food, so it caught my attention.

Photo: A delivery of produce from Greenling stocks my fridge for the week for $34.99.

And I'm glad it did. There's a lot to think about in the numbers that summarize how much Americans spend on food. Personally, I spend a lot of time thinking about produce consumption - why so many of us eat alarmingly few fruits and veggies - so I was especially drawn to the numbers about how much we spend on those.

by Beth Goulart

Loving to cook doesn't mean never eating out. I love going to restaurants. But letting someone else do the cooking doesn't mean I don't want to know where the food comes from. So I ask.

My friend Lyssa asks, too. She's passionate about eating only free-range meat, so before ordering, she asks her server whether the meat on the menu meets that criterium. But she says it makes her dining companions uncomfortable. They think it's rude. She deserves to know, she insists.

My friend Hillary asks, also.

She's excited about the health benefits - and the flavor - of grass-fed beef, so she asks her servers if they offer any grass-fed before she orders. But she embarrassed her husband by asking this question at a dinner with his colleagues at Ruth's Chris Steak House. Her husband was mortified - he felt the question was totally inappropriate, particularly in a business setting. (The answer was "no.")

by Beth Goulart

My local bookstore can’t keep a certain bestseller in stock. You’ve probably heard its provocative name. First word: Skinny. Second word: A synonym for “female dog.” Such a title might lead you to expect a novel about a malnourished canine. Au contraire, mes amis. It’s a book about food.

The scandalous title, it turns out, is fair warning. Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin, the friends who penned this volume, live in Los Angeles, where, I can only surmise, ladies have different ideas about how to conduct themselves. Curse words and crass descriptions of bodily functions normally discussed only in private, with doctors, permeate this text.
 

by Beth Goulart

I like to read cookbooks before bed. These days, The Taste of Country Cooking by the late guru of southern cooking, Edna Lewis, graces my bedside table – and I’m loving every sentence.

Lewis came of age during the Great Depression, growing up in a small agrarian community founded by freed slaves in Virginia. Her childhood, as she recalls it, was simple but joy-filled. Joy fills the pages of her book in even the most unexpected places, like this one, in the introduction to her chapter called "Spring":

Another pleasure was following the plough. I loved walking barefoot behind my father in the newly ploughed furrow, carefully putting one foot down before the other and pressing it into the warm, ploughed earth, so comforting to the soles of my feet.

by Beth Goulart

I've heard of bear markets. But a chicken economy?

My husband and I helped his grandmother move to Austin from Sugar Land last week. She was excited to come here, but not because she'd get to see us more often. On the contrary, she just hoped the food would be better. When she chose her Sugar Land assisted-living community last year, her single criterion was food. She'd lunched at a couple of places before deciding and picked the one that had the best eats. But during her stay there, she says, the quality changed. "When the economy went down, so did the food," she told us. Her number-one complaint? Too much chicken. All of a sudden, it seemed, chicken was for dinner most every night. She surmises it's cheaper to serve chicken than any other meat.

by Beth Goulart

I’m a dial-up girl in a high-speed internet world. That’s not to say that I’m high-tech illiterate. I built my own website and contribute to several blogs and even know how to use my cell phone. It’s just that I’d rather pick up the phone than log onto Facebook. To me, “my space” is my office. Curiosity inspired me to sign up for Twitter, that latest-and-greatest tool for communicating life’s tiniest details to the world at-large, but I rarely “tweet.” The truth is, if I find a spare few seconds, I’d rather wash the breakfast dishes. Or throw a ball for my Border collie. Or stretch.

Imagine my surprise when social networking came to my rescue in the kitchen.

by Beth Goulart

I love to eat. And I love to travel. And in my book, there's no better combination than eating while traveling. So on a getaway to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, last week, my husband and I ate. Eating is essential, of course. But we ate. We made meals a cornerstone of our every blissful day. We sought out a hole-in-the-wall taquería, and we asked for the freshest catch at the sushi bar on the beach. We bumbled through menus in a language we don't speak, gesticulating and wordlessly vocalizing as necessary to communicate that we wanted the house specialty. We detoured to a tiny mountain village to find Manuela, a widow who, we'd heard, made and sold goat cheese. We asked our airport-to-hotel driver what restaurant not to miss and made sure we went there.

By Beth Goulart

The holidays are really upon us now, but you've still got time to whip up one last edible Texas gift. Salty Texas Pecan Caramels showcase the state's number one horticultural crop - and they're festive and tasty, too.  A surprise twist of good flaky salt gives them a savory-sweet flavor that folks will talk about all year.

[recipe after the jump]

By Beth Goulart

Local citrus is one of our greatest assets as Texans. Like so many wonderful things, though, our local citrus is seasonal. Marmalades are a great way to preserve local citrus for enjoyment throughout the year. Even better, a jar of marmalade makes a very tasty holiday gift.

By Beth Goulart

Nothing beats a homemade gift during the holidays. And whether your intended recipient is a party host or an out-of-state aunt, it's hard to beat Sweet-Hot Spiced Texas Pecans. This recipe hails from my mother's kitchen and takes only a few minutes to prepare. Alter the cayenne to taste, and make sure it's fresh. Cayenne loses its heat when it sits too long in the pantry, and its zing combined with sweetness is what makes these nuts special. To make sure you get Texas pecans, read the label before you buy. Pecans are our state's biggest crop, but you may find "foreign" ones in Texas grocery stores, too.