the best Christmas treat, from a raggedy, 30-year-old Pillsbury pamphlet

I didn’t take any pictures of my best meal this week, which happened Friday night at Beloved BBQ in D.C. I went with two close friends, and we seared our own slices of beef on a tabletop grill. (There was also an epic slaw and udon mac and cheese. Udon! Mac and cheese!) The whole enterprise was almost as hazardous as it sounds and also extremely delicious. I was having too much fun to take any pictures.

Speaking of pictures of interesting places to eat and drink: I did snap one at Death and Co., the cocktail bar where my husband and I grabbed a drink for my birthday on Wednesday. The drinks were good, and the vibe was exquisite.

behind the bar at Death and Co.

… all things fennel and citrus. I raved about fennel here a few weeks ago, and these days, every time I step foot in the grocery store, a big, green, frond-y bulb of fennel makes eye contact with me, and I can’t look away.

Good thing it’s the peak season for caramelized fennel. Chop it up, add an unholy amount of butter — you’ll be in sweats for the next four months, so who cares? — and let it cook over medium-low heat until it’s soft and browned at the edges. Then! Don’t stop there! Find out a way to incorporate citrus. Grate some lemon zest. Deglaze the pan with wine and orange juice. Eat your citrus-y fennel with chicken, or in orzo, or layered into potatoes au gratin. The possibilities are endless.

six things I think about winter cooking (I'm so excited for winter cooking!)

… Carmelitas. Growing up, the Christmastime desserts in my household were the stuff of legend. Come over in December, and you’d be plied with goodies — including Carmelitas.

Several of the Christmas goodies my mom and I make year after year come from family recipes. Carmelitas do not. Carmelitas come from a ragged pamphlet of Pillsbury recipes that’s been on a shelf in my parents’ kitchen since the ’90s. It looks like something that was once for sale next to HELLO! Magazine in the grocery checkout aisle. It is as unglamorous as a cookbook comes, if you can call it a cookbook at all. And Carmelitas aren’t glamorous, either, but they will get their hooks in you. Eat one, and you’ll eat seven.