Winter is the height of the season in Southern California for many of the greens we all love.

Kale, Spinach, Rapini, Chard, Mustard, Pea Tendrils. You see them this time of year at the market. They are so beautiful, like masterful Baroque still-life paintings of the Dutch Golden Age.  The intensity of detail of these greens can almost be off putting. Intricate shapes, complex gradations of color; thick, lush and vibrant. Cooking with them just makes you feel like an artist.

But if you are able to look past all the variations of green greens, you might notice another type of green entirely. And that green is RED!

You may be familiar with Red Leaf Lettuce. It’s a pretty alternative to the Green Leaf Lettuce you find in your local supermarket. Aside from its striking red blush, it tastes fairly similar to its more common green brother. Though, I swear it gets all black and slimy much quicker than the green guy.

I have a little story. Oh don’t look at me like that! You’ll like this story. It has a happy ending. I promise it’s about food too. Okay, I also promise it's brief. Now will you keep reading?

I have this friend (‘cuz this could never happen to me). He was in the middle of preparing a special dish. Let’s say it was Salmon Tartare inspired by his buddy Dash of Stash (who is coincidentally a buddy of mine as well). And for the sake of this story let’s say he’d gotten to a certain place in the preparation of this dish. He came across that moment. You know the moment I am talking about. We have all been there.

He had spent a considerable amount of time, energy, a pretty penny getting to this moment. As he leaned over his concoction of sweet salmon beautiness, the hills and crystal blue sky in view outside his kitchen window (okay, I am editorializing here somewhat). He took in the deeply savory aroma of his creation and he put a spoonful into his mouth. This is the moment of “taste”.

But something was wrong. You could see that by the look on his face. But he is an experienced cook. He knew this was no big deal. So he did not panic. This is why the phrase “season to taste” was invented. It’s that last shining moment when the cook gets to tweak his culinary baby into its peak performance.

He began to reach for the salt, because surely “season to taste” means salt and possibly pepper. Right?

Carrots are a year 'round item at the Hollywood Farmers Market. But this time of year particularly beautiful carrots can be found in an array of colors, sizes and shapes. I love the little round French carrots; so sweet and carroty. They are the perfect size to pop in your mouth like a little carrot bon-bon, and that’s exactly what I do with them.

So this week I chose carrots for my Market Matters post. Not just any carrot however, I chose a variety of the most unusually colored carrots I could find. Because once you get out of the PigglyWiggly you will discover that there is way more to a carrot than orange. There are red carrots, purple ones, even yellow, white, and two-toned varieties.

You needn’t be frightened of these carrots. They are not some mutinized hybrid with a lot of genetic hanky-panky going on. Nope, most of these carrots are heirlooms.

This book immediately caught my eye, so I knew it belonged in my OpenSky shop. CLICK here to purchase or browse. Use the coupon code REDESIGN for 10% off through January 31! The book feels so right to me because it seems to sense my mood just right.

You might not know it (by the way I am dressed) but Sup! can be quite the fashionable devil. I am pretty good at whiffing out the "now" and the “hot”. I immediately know what the next "new black” is just by looking.

I am here to proclaim the "new black” in cookbooks focuses on books that have a specialized niche. You can thank the web for this trend because there is so much information available to us now and with just a few quick keystrokes we can edit out all that is superfluous.

Which is why Stonewall Kitchen Winter Celebrations is the next must have kitchen accessory of the season. Because these guys were smart enough to make it perfectly seasonable. It is the au courant little book of fashionable self-indulgence. It’s filled with recipes that make you want to (yes!) celebrate the season in style.

It has been absolutely weeks since I have done a Market Matters post from the Hollywood Farmers Market. Travel, and sickness have kept me “up the hill” and unable to shop there most Sundays lately. I think my last Sunday post from the Market was in November. But don’t quote me on that!

Depending on where you live you might hate me for what I am about to say next, but it is 82 degrees F. (28 degrees C.) today in Los Angeles. Which leads me to the next little statement you may hate me for uttering. The Hollywood Farmers Market runs all year. That’s 12 months or 52 weeks (in a row)… la-dee-dah la-dee-dah!

So on this gorgeous sunny Sunday morning the only weather related issue in my life was whether to wear the new orange cargo shorts or my good old Sunday favorites­­– the camouflage cut-offs. I won’t tell you which I chose ‘cuz that would be too much like rubbing it in.

But just so you know my life is not all sunbeams and lollipops. Nope, I have some cloudy thoughts too. Like this morning, as me and my camouflage cut-offs (oops I let that slip– sorry) plopped ourselves down on the terrace to read the Sunday paper a couple of disturbing thoughts floated through my mind. First, did I remember to put on sunscreen this morning? I did not need another Sunday suntan. My poor skin needs a break. And second, I must admit, I felt a little performance anxiety. It’s been so long since I chose something from the Hollywood Farmers Market to bring to you, my virtual eaters. I was worried that maybe I had lost my groove.

As I was preparing to leave on my Panamanian adventure a cold shock of panic coursed through my veins. "How can I leave SippitySup dark for a week whilst I galavant around Central America with the beautiful people of Boquete Gourmet?" I mean I love this little blog, and won't it (and you) get lonely while I'm gone?

What to do... what to do? Well, whenever I am stuck chewing on the phrase "what to do?", I usually turn to Twitter! TWEET...

I immediately TWEETED an SOS:

• HELP!! FOOD BLOGGER IN NEED (stop)
• SIPPITYSUP IN DIRE STRAITS (stop)
• GUEST BLOGGER PLEASE APPLY (stop)
• ALL YOU NEED IS TALENT AND CHUTZSPAH (stop)
• AS WELL 500 WORDS WITH PICS AND RECIPE (stop)

Well my non-denominational prayers were answered (or rather tweeted) by Jennifer at Unplanned Cooking! Within moments she tweeted in and reassured me and put all my fears to rest. She would be my guest blogger. She would fill my shoes while I was out traipsing in my boots through the jungles of Panama. And she'd do it with a classic Scandinavian (non-Panamanian) dish called Lefse!

So welcome Madame Unplanned Cooking! Tah Dah...

Egg in the Basket, Toad in the Hole… Pig in a Whistle. I can’t quite remember what I am supposed to call this dish. That’s because I have a bad cold. I don’t even feel well enough to google the name.

So you can pick any one of those names or make up one of your own, then berate me in the comment section later. Besides today might be your lucky day. I am feeling so low energy I might even go ahead and publish it with out editing it… but probably not.

If you don’t mind, I think I’ll call this dish by its French name Oeufs en Croustade. It was a good enough name for Julia Child and it’s good enough for me. Besides, I don’t feel well and French is my comfort language. Yes I may be American, but I sometimes slip into French when I am feverish. I can’t explain it. Que signifie-t-ceci ? Suis-j'insensé?

So when I am feeling this way, the truth is– I just don't care what your Aunt Polly called this dish. And I certainly am not cutting the hole into the shape of a heart or a star. Because contrary to what Aunt Polly said, cute shapes will not make me heal faster. Just ask your uncle Walter…

Maintenant me pardonner j'ai un oeuf pour manger.