I usually travel the same, well-worn route with salmon, letting it cure briefly with a rub of salt, sugar, crushed coriander and zests — a mix of lemon, orange and lime. Then I bake it in the oven. But I decided to steer a different course this time.

I decided to make my own gravlax.

A story this week on "All Things Considered" on why the best chocolate is the one you eat last has me thinking about my own personal food preferences.  Feel free to chime in with yours.

The weather has been warm enough to fool the irises and daffodils, which have sent up three inches of growth in the gardens on my block. But the calendar still says February, and my kitchen still says winter, with all the celery root and butternut squash stacked up on the counter.

Which is why I decided to give rutabagas a try.

The world got a little flatter Monday night at Sueños Restaurant. That's where four chefs served up Mexican fare made from vegetables and herbs sourced from local farms run by Mexican and Latin American immigrants.

Maybe you heard of the book, "Make the Bread, Buy the Butter: What You Should and Shouldn't Cook From Scratch." (The author, Jennifer Reese, was recently on Marketplace.) 

I have an addendum.  Make the bread, buy the donuts. 

I haven't seen the movie, "Food, Inc.," so I didn't know what sustainable farmer Joel Salatin looked like until I saw him take the stage Monday night at the 92nd Street Y. 

Did you know that the White House selects a "theme" every Christmas for its holiday decor? 

I didn't either, until I got a hold of the press release announcing it.  This year it's "Shine, Give, Share." I'm guessing that the recipe for Pumpkin Cake with Orange Cream Cheese Frosting included in a press release the White House sent out Wednesday (and found below) was part of the "sharing" initiative.

Every place has its food institutions, its "bests" (best pizza, best tacos, best cheesecake, best chicken feet). What are your food institutions? Tell us where you like to shop, and why ... especially if it's in Cleveland. 

A visit to the Italian imported food emporium, Eataly, is disorienting only for the sheer, 5,000 square-foot size of the shopping hall. Otherwise, it's filled with a lot of familiar products. Cookies. Candies. Canned and fresh fish. Pasta. Soda. And cappuccino and gelato, which are now thoroughly familiar to American palates. And then my gaze fell upon a little jar of walnut sauce.

Worlds collided for me when I met Eldad Zvulen, the top pro at the new Vanderbilt Tennis Club in Grand Central Terminal. Yes, there's a tennis court at the renowned landmark train terminal. There's also a tennis teaching professional who knows his hummus.

Some people can boast of surviving the complex requirements of Julia Child's pate de canard en croute. I haven't de-boned a duck, but I have peeled three cups of chickpeas — by hand — for Melissa Clark's "Stupendous Hummus" recipe. And the results were, well, stupendous.

Tuesday's earthquake did not open up any yawning crevasse along the East Coast. But it cracked open the schedule at the New Haven Open. Play was suspended for two hours, pushing back the start of the evening matches and allowing us the chance to go get pizza at Sally's Apizza.

Tomato season is here. Last weekend, my local farmers' market at Fort Greene Park had a beautiful display of jewel-like heirloom tomatoes. 

But many people avoid them.  Tomatoes are part of a potentially troublesome group of veggies known as "nightshades."

My first sweet treat in three months fits my new eating habits and my taste buds.

Avocation means "a subordinate occupation pursued in addition to one's vocation, especially for enjoyment," but when it comes to avocados, I like the archaic usage. Merriam-Webster puts it as "diversion, distraction." And that's what avocados mean for me this time of year.

Meatballs, macaroni and cheese, and bacon have all had their makeovers in the kitchens of top chefs. It was the humble grilled cheese sandwich's turn this weekend at a community garden fundraiser in Brooklyn.

We talked about pea shoots in this week's edition of Last Chance Foods, and I have to admit, I've never eaten them. And I'm not noticing them at my farmers' market in Fort Greene Park or supermarket. Shauna Reid's suggestion? Grow your own.

Some folks' idea of comfort food is meat loaf or macaroni and cheese.  Mine is oatmeal.  It's creamy and warm, but, more than that, it's a food my dad made for me and my siblings when we were little.

In my zeal to try different types of pepper, I bought two big bottles of whole pink and white peppercorns -- the pricey Morton & Bassett kind. I wanted to try red peppercorns, but I figured pink was the same thing. It's not.

We're talking about sun chokes this week, but my head and taste buds are still with salt, our topic in last week's Last Chance Foods.  Many have commented on artisanal salt seller Mark Bitterman's contention that the link between salt and hypertension are not as clear-cut as public health officials would like to have you believe.