recipe: grilled avocado.

Oh, where has this concept been all my life?

This: large, ripe Hass avocado, halved and pitted, cut-side down on a hot grill for about 5–7 minutes until a bit charred and caramelized. Take it off, let it cool, scoop out the flesh, mash with a fork. Turn it into guac, with a bit of onion, tomato, garlic and S&P, or—my favorite—mash it with the juice of half a lemon, slivered basil, S&P and schmear on toasted bread.

recipe: pizza with chard, goat cheese & egg.

I know. Pizza topped with egg. Sounds weird, but apparently in places that aren't Cincinnati, it's fairly trendy. But then I spotted in our hometown newspaper a recipe for pizza topped with veggies and finished with eggs. What caught my eye wasn't just the combination of toppings—sauteed onion and chard, goat cheese and prosciutto (oh, yeah)—but the idea that the egg, justbarelycookedtilitsniceandsoft, would create a rich, almost creamy sauce when you mashed your fork into it before taking a bite.

Which it did.

Pita bread is the ideal base for this (though my homemade pizza crust is good, too); the pita's cupped shape creates the ideal platform into which you crack the egg. Plus, individual pizzas are the way to go here—you want one egg per person. (Slicing an egg-topped pizza would get messy, methinks.)

pizza with chard, goat cheese & egg

(makes 2 individual pizzas)

2 8- or 9-inch pitas (whole wheat or plain), or 1/2 recipe pizza dough formed into 2 individual crusts

1/2 a grocery or market-sized bunch of swiss chard, chopped

1/2 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

pinch of red pepper flakes

2–3 slices prosciutto, chopped or torn into pieces

4 ounces fresh goat cheese

2 large eggs

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. If using fresh pizza dough, pre-bake crusts until lightly browned.

Saute onion, garlic, red pepper flakes; add chard and saute until wilted. Divide vegetables between pitas or crusts, spreading evenly. Top with prosciutto, crumble goat cheese over top. Bake for about 10 minutes until the cheese starts to soften. Remove from oven; crack an egg in the center of each pizza, then bake another 10–12 minutes until the egg whites are set but yolks are still runny.

recipe: blueberry muddle.

It's been awhile since I felt like posting; we're still mourning our hairy friend. I haven't yet grappled with a lengthy post about Wrigley, but I'm hoping to get back to writing about other topics. Like food.

Blueberries and I go way back, back to when I was perhaps 10 or 11 and Grandmother first showed me how to make a blueberry pie (it's Dad's favorite, and has since been a staple for Father's Day). I still reference the recipe card she helped me write out; though I prefer Grandma's pie crust recipe, I defer to Grandmother's technique for mixing frozen berries, flour, sugar, cinnamon and lemon juice, then topping the fruit with pats of butter before sealing it with a top crust.

I never really ate blueberries out of hand ... I always enjoyed them in pie form. Until about 5 years ago, when I discovered the bliss of Trader Joe's frozen blueberries on cereal for breakfast. Their frozen goodness turns the milk ice-cold and adds the perfect pop of sweetness to a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios. I was on a daily blueberry kick for a good 18 months ... and then ... and then ...

Allergy. I developed a blueberry allergy, all bumpyrash on my face and neck. After swearing off blueberries for life, I visited a local allergist, who hooked me up with an alternative therapy that, in fact, cured the allergy.

Now, after several years of dismay at having to leave pint boxes of gorgeous local berries in their stalls at the farmer's market, I'm back on a blueberry kick. Last weekend, we picked up a box of thumb-sized berries from Thistlehair Farm (one of my favorite Findlay Market vendors), and I made up this recipe:

blueberry muddle

1 cup of fresh blueberries

1 Tbsp. of sugar, or more to taste depending on the sweetness of the berries

(I used Turbinado sugar for a deeper flavor)

Splash of Grand Marnier or Cointreau

Mash the blueberries in a deep bowl or 2 cup glass measuring container with a bar muddler or wooden spoon. Get 'em good and smashed up, breaking the skins and pureeing the flesh. Stir in the sugar, then the liqueur. Let sit for an hour or so. Serve over vanilla ice cream (we enjoyed bourbon vanilla gelato from Dojo Gelato). This would also be terrific with a bit of slivered mint added and served over peach or raspberry sorbet.