Of all the items on Saveur's 100 list this month, the entry that made me smile the biggest was #78, a gushing (and deservedly so) tribute to Anne Willan, founder and owner of my alma mater, "the legendary" La Varenne cooking school. Anne's profile heaps great praise on her latest book, The Country Cooking of France, which they say "trumps her 30 previous volumes," a handful of which I had the great good fortune to assist her with. The article also talks of her decision to sell Château du Feÿ, where I lived and worked for two-plus years about 15 years ago. I returned there in November, a most heart-warming, sentimental, delightful final visit before keys get handed over to the new owner. (I presume visitation privileges won't be grandfathered.) I could write pages and pages about returning to the chateau and the countless wonderful memories it brought to mind. Another time, perhaps. My friend Katherine came along for part of the adventure, and supplied the photo above.

The magazine's profile mentions the chateau's "5,000-volume library devoted to the subject of food and wine," which was the reason for my trip. Anne had asked me to come help figure out what to DO with all those books, as they pack up. (I will never complain about moving again, having glimpsed the arduous task of downsizing from a 15-bedroom chateau to a more everyday house.) The cookbook library project was quite a job: fun, dusty, tiring, but more than anything fascinating. A collection that large, and amassed over so many years, fed by world travels and ever-changing cookbook trends -- it's like a treasure box, a life history, a time machine.

Anne was generous enough to let me come home with a few books in my overpacked suitcase. They'll be treasured, though a few not necessarily for their contributions to culinary literature (some, honestly, I picked for amazing graphics or off-the-wall charm). I'll love them more for the enduring connection they'll make to my time at Château du Feÿ. My sentimental favorite is a copy of A Chicken Goes Around the World, a 1960s volume that was something of a tongue-in-cheek mascot for one of the first books we did in the Look & Cook series, Chicken Classics. I learned so much, so quickly in my time at the chateau, and it got deep into my bones--those couple years in France changed my life. The La Varenne at Château du Feÿ era may have come to an end, but the richness of that place, its character and soulfulness, live on in so many people like me, who were so moved by the opportunity to spend time with Anne and Mark in their north Burgundy home.

This is one of many items about which I'm overdue in writing, but better late than never. Early October, I was invited to attend a most special wine event, put on by Walla Walla's Northstar winery. Held in a downtown Seattle hotel, the tasting was part seminar, part blind tasting, the event attended by sommeliers, wine merchants, serious oenophiles and others deep into wine. The afternoon's subject was, officially, "A Stylistic Comparison of Northstar Merlot with Prestige Cru Classé Level Wines from St. Emilion and Pomerol." In layman's terms, it was a test of whether a little ol' wine from the state of Washington could stand up to some of the most prestigious Bordeaux wines from France.

I won't draw this out unnecessarily. The answer was 'yes,' and resoundingly so. Of the six wines we sampled blind (that is, without knowing what wine we were sampling, anonymous glasses 'A' through 'F'), over half of the room picked the Northstar as their favorite. It was easily my favorite as well. I don't know that I'd have been prepared to bet money my top pick was the Washington wine. But it was probably a safe bet. I've never been much of a Bordeaux fan.

That Northstar won over the palates of this 100+ crowd is only part of the story. At just $41 (suggested retail), it costs a fraction of all the other wines. One of my least favorite wines, number five of the six by my estimation, was the most expensive, at a whopping $695 per bottle. Washington may not be the land of inexpensive wines (though there are some decent bargains available, in addition to boutique offerings). It is, undeniably, the land of value-to-quality however. No doubt about that. You can check out the wines we sampled and overall results here.

One thing about being a writer in the realm of food and beverage is that when a box gets delivered to my front door I never know what may be hiding inside. Ice cream? Panettone? Cheese? Gin? It's happened before. Earlier this week there were two simple white boxes delivered, fully anonymous aside from a return address of Deschutes Brewery in Bend, Oregon. That bodes well, now, doesn't it?

Inside one box was a 22-ounce bottle of their new Green Lakes Organic Ale, which I first tasted in the fall at one of the brewery's most interesting community outreach programs - the Neighborhood Hops tour, complete with 16 foot long barrel that was towed from spot to spot this fall. It was a sort of "bringing the pub to the people" campaign that visited a handful of neighborhoods and special events. Pull up the sides of the barrel and presto-chango, it's a fully functioning pub complete with taps, ready to spread joy and cheer and great NW beer wherever it goes. You just may find the Deschutes barrel at a beer-friendly event along the West Coast sometime soon.

The other box held a few bottles of their Buzzsaw Brown, a seasonal ale that honors the lumbering heritage of Bend. I had to crack open one of those bottles right away; it has a lovely clear mahogany-chestnut color, light sweetness and a nutty essence among the flavors that linger on the tongue. "An easy drinking beer that is refreshing even after the hardest day's work," the press release claims. Perfect, I think there's maybe a Buzzsaw in my future here soon, as Friday afternoon begins to wind down.

Having recently had a meeting with my pals from Ritrovo, importers of amazing artisan foods from Italy, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit how much I love a good batch of spaghetti and meatballs. I have a feeling that the spaghetti and meatballs we love in the States is only quasi authentic Italian, but so be it. Good comfort food like that can't be beat. Perhaps I'll gain a little credit for using a stringozzi pasta imported by Ritrovo, in place of spaghetti; its long strands are squared (knife-cut) rather than round. It made for one of the best batches of "spaghetti" and meatballs to date.

The way I tackle meatballs changes batch to batch, but one thing remains constant: I make my meatballs big. A good 2 to 2 1/2 inches across. One reason may be laziness. It sure takes less time to make 8 big meatballs than 20 small ones. But more importantly, I prefer the more substantial size because the integrity of the meatball itself, its flavor, texture and juiciness, gets attention, not lost among the noodles and sauce. This week's combo was nearly half-half ground beef and ground pork, with an egg, a handful each of chopped parsley and basil, a good dose of pressed garlic, salt and pepper.

After browning well on all sides, I transfer the meatballs to the tomato sauce (sautéed onions, garlic, fresh and dried herbs, diced San Marzano tomatoes, a dab of tomato paste, splash of red wine and a few whizzes of the immersion blender after an hour or so of simmering) for a 30-minute love-fest before spooning over the pasta. A scattering of freshly grated Parmesan and it's time to eat, with some green salad and classic garlic bread alongside. How much more cheesy-red-check-table-cloth-and-Chianti could I be? Except with Buzzsaw Ale for sipping instead.

In honor of my recent trip to France, how about something with a little je ne sais quoi? (Oh, speaking of Christmas, I got a copy of Ratatouille from my mother-in-law, very happy about that! Extras on the DVD are fun, including an interview with Thomas Keller from The French Laundryabout being the chef guru for the movie).

Clafouti is not necessarily a recipe we labored over in our classes at La Varenne. It's more home-style comfort food with a French accent. I learned about clafouti by way of Anne-Marie Choplain, the woman who coordinated the study abroad program in Dijon for a small group of us from University of Puget Sound (lo, so many years ago now). She's an amazing woman, fully embodies the casual flair that makes French home cooking so powerfully satisfying. Some of the most profound and memorable meals I've had in France have been at her table. In fact, part of my "French Homecoming" trip included a weekend spent with Anne-Marie and her husband Jo in their Dijon home; I hadn't been back to Dijon in a decade, what a wonderful city.

This isn't a classic recipe (clafouti is traditionally made with fresh cherries in a simple batter), instead one from my The Best Places Northwest Desserts Cookbook, a collection of sweet treats from restaurants, cafes and B&Bs across Washington, Oregon and British Columbia. This clafouti came from the Chanticleer Inn in Ashland, Oregon.

Late breaking news: my husband and I attended the opening hoopla for Lucky Strike Lanes in Bellevue last night (photo here courtesy of Team Photogenic). Heavens to Betsy, what a crazy, raucous evening it was (and we were early-in, early-out, I'm sure it was even wilder later). We had a blast. I don't know what it is about this week, but I've been bowling twice. And I rarely bowl twice in one year. (It shows when I play, though I did get one strike last night.) But no matter, it's about having fun.

I'd noticed a billboard for a Lucky Strike Lanes down in Vegas on our December trip, so was particularly intrigued to get the invitation to this Bellevue opening. What a swish, over-the-top stylin' place it is, they call it a "bowling lounge." We had our (surely) one and only chance to play in the VIP "Lucky Strike Luxe Room" last night, with its white couches (in place of the plastic form-fitting things we sit on in old-school joints) and four private lanes. The backsplash above the lanes is one big, amazing screen that was playing Planet Earth last night (everyone has to see that series, like no "nature show" you've ever seen, you'll be blown away). No standard faux-marble balls, some are earth-motif, other clear, my favorite the pure white ones.

Bob, our good friend Rich and I boldly started bowling before anyone else did, we just couldn't wait. Glam bowling like I'd never experienced before. But I still will relish playing a few games at old-school spots as well. I was at Sunset Bowl in Ballard a couple days ago, soon to be RIP, like the already-closed Leilani Lanes. Thankfully our neighborhood West Seattle Bowl is not destined the same fate, despite the mondo project going up alongside (Whole Foods-condo-etc.). Lucky Strikes is a very fun, hip place that I'll happily return to. But I almost want to start a campaign to preserve those old-school bowling alleys as well. At Sunset we had a couple of construction guys playing to one side, a group of friends celebrating a birthday on the other, replaced by a four-year-old and his mom after the birthday gang left. That's what bowling's all about, it's low-key fun for everyone.