Having a blog is fascinating for a number of reasons. It definitely is a dynamic environment. While a newsletter is static one-way communication to a specific group of subscribers, a blog post lands in the cyber world for any and all to find. It's interesting to see which posts end up being the most-viewed (currently the top three are grilling whole chicken, cooking with bay leaves and making homemade caramel corn). But even more interesting is seeing the search terms that have directed someone to my blog. I posted an item about a really tasty ginger cake made with stout that I'd baked for my brother's birthday. A surprising number of folks ended up there searching for "beer birthday cake." I have no idea what they were originally looking for, but hopefully they liked what they found.

But back to bay leaves, they are indeed a hot topic on Mon Appétit. Search queries related to such things as how to use, dry, and find fresh bay leaves, whether they're edible, if in fact bay leaves keep bugs away (news to me!) and so on. I thought I'd expand on my original post with a little more detail.

I usually use my bay leaves fresh, since the bush holds up well year round on my back patio. But when I do dry them, I just cut off part of a branch that has 8 or 10 leaves on it, hang it from a small hook on the side of a cupboard in the kitchen and they dry just great as is. If you like, once dried the leaves can be plucked from the stem, transferred to an airtight jar and set on the spice shelf. I promise you that even a few of months later, those home-dried bay leaves will give off more aroma and flavor than store-bought dried bay.

As for finding bay? I don't recall ever seeing fresh bay leaves in the grocery store, or even at farmers markets (aside from nursery stands where they sell herb starts). I definitely recommend seeking out a small plant at your neighborhood nursery or farmers market for your own garden. It's a hardy herb that grows well with no input from me in this Seattle climate. This lush bush (the photo is from last summer) started out in a little 4-inch pot about 10 years ago! About the only maintenance I've done is trimming its roots a year ago and repotting, which gave the plant a whole new lease on life, better than ever.

I just returned recently from my first-ever trip to Atlanta. It was a quick three days, most of which packed with meetings, so I had very little time to explore the city. We were, however, based in the Buckhead neighborhood, which at least was an interesting, dynamic base with plenty of dining options, a good walking neighborhood.

A major rave for MARTA, the rapid transit system in the city. Buckhead is on the major north-south line, which includes a station at the airport on the most southerly tip. Almost as quickly as I could have jumped in a cab, I was on a train heading into the city. And for just $2.25! Man, that's amazing. My group stayed at the most wonderful Mansion on Peachtree hotel, just 1/2 block from the Buckhead station. It was heavenly. Heading back to the airport Sunday, I stepped out of the hotel door at around 12:20 and was at my gate by 1:30.

As for the dining, we did very well, never leaving Buckhead. My first night, I joined a friend at Holeman and Finch, a gastropub alongside its upscale sibling Restaurant Eugene. My friend had been to Holeman & Finch over the summer and noted very little similarity in the menu, so it clearly gets lots of seasonal updates. As much as "small plates" may seem an overused trend, I honestly love the format. With an appetite that's getting smaller as years go by, I love being able to sample and share a few different items without wasting food. The deviled eggs were just so-so, the flavorings (such as bacon and sweet pickle) overused, so the delicacy of the egg itself was completely lost. But I loved the buttermilk-fried quail with Tabasco butter (the waiter described it as "our take on buffalo wings") and I couldn't resist getting the pimiento cheese with sesame crisps.

The next two nights were group dinners, so we sat down to a set menu, which framed my experience differently from that of an "average" diner. But I would return to both restaurants without hesitation. The first night we went to Craft, located at our hotel. This Tom Colicchio restaurant is the fourth of his Craft series, opened just last month, I believe. My husband and I are big fans of his Craftsteak in Vegas, the only other Colicchio restaurant I'd been to, so looked forward to this dinner. Our meal, served family style, started off to plates of mixed roasted beets, yellowfin tuna with avocado, poached shrimp with citrus crème fraîche, and a salad of endive, pecan and goat cheddar (the latter my favorite). Mains included outstanding beef short rib, diver sea scallops with mushroom jus (pictured here), light-and-lovely gnocchi, Brussels sprouts and sauteed mushrooms. Of the various desserts, I was most taken with the delicious malt ice cream.

The next night we dined at Aria. Rather understated from the outside, the interior's kind of mod and arty, the bar with its steel-bead curtains and black/red motif, the dining room light and convivial, with interesting art pieces and mirrors. We started with a bowl of lush (but creamless) celery root soup with black truffles and parmesan. I opted for the porcini mushroom ravioli to follow, with a sage-walnut brown butter sauce. Out of this world. Despite having sampled the short ribs the night before, I chose it again tonight, here braised with zinfandel and served with parsnips and potatoes. We were served a number of desserts, to pass and share, the warm chocolate cheesecake my favorite.

I do hope on my next trip to Atlanta I manage to step out of Buckhead a bit. I'd love to check out the botanical gardens and the modern art museum. Maybe even make a first-ever trip to a presidential library, Jimmy Carter's is just outside downtown Atlanta. Plenty yet to explore there.

Tough times in our economic lives, no doubt about. Just here in Seattle, the announcements this past week from Boeing, Starbucks and Microsoft alone have given my stomach a pang of worry, knowing how much those layoffs are going to touch the lives of people around me.

So it seems a particularly lousy time to be bringing up a fundraising auction. But of course the services and organizations supported by nonprofit agencies and groups are no less in need now. I'll soon be launching my annual fund-raising drive for the Breast Cancer 3-Day, and know that even that worthy cause may be a bit harder to rally funds for this year. While culinary education may not seem the most critical arena for financial need, in fact the endowments my local Les Dames group supports help women gain valuable education and experience to be more viable on the job market today. The beauty of a culinary degree is the countless avenues it opens up for career pursuits, not just becoming a chef or caterer, but many dozens of careers today can be founded on a culinary degree.

All that to encourage considering attendance at the March 24 fundraising auction of my Les Dames chapter. Every other year we gather to raise money for our endowments and other community support projects. It's a relatively small auction with tons of personality, great food and beverages, and a relaxed, fun setting in which to celebrate the world of culinary arts. Check out our web site for more details about the auction, and about the organization as a whole. Hope to maybe see some of you there!

I figured I'd sign off the newsletter with one of my favorite cocktails: the Manhattan. Though gin is still my first love, I've been on a bourbon binge lately, following a couple of trips last year to the spirit's heartland of Kentucky. I even attended the Kentucky Bourbon Festival in September, a few days of experiences of all types, from the arts-and-crafts festival atmosphere of booths in a Bardstown square, to the black-tie Great Kentucky Bourbon Tasting and Gala, which was a bourbon-lover's delight.

But long before I ever stepped foot in Kentucky, I'd created this simple twist on the Manhattan for my Stone Fruit cookbook, using cherries pre-soaked in bourbon. Dried sweet cherries work will in this recipe, since they're available year-round and their concentrated flavor is well suited to this strong, flavorful drink. But fresh cherries are a luscious option when they're in season.

I prefer my Manhattans "perfect," which doesn't refer to their quality but to the vermouth used. A classic Manhattan uses only sweet vermouth, a dry Manhattan only dry vermouth; the "perfect" version uses equal parts of each.