When the yearning for vibrant juiciness finally grows strong enough that I have to take it seriously, I break out the berries I’ve squirreled away in freezer. (And it really is squirreling. I often forget they are there until the next berry season comes around.)

Most of the berries I eat during the summer rarely make it to any kind of cooking device save a bowl and, maybe, a spoon. There just never seems to be quite enough of them to slake my lust and make a pie. Honestly, I don’t understand these people who come to the farm and buy just a quart of strawberries to last them the week. Part of the sweetness of eating seasonally is have the privilege (some would say excuse) of eating what’s in season until your heart is content.

Therefore, winter is the time I get to cook with berries. After being frozen, they are not satisfying out of hand eating. So into blueberry muffins they go. Or smoothies. Or upside down pancakes.

Instead of trying to recreate the fruit salads of summer, this recipe honors the winter kitchen by pairing the berries with a mulled wine. The result is a dish that redolent not of long summer days in the shade but of long winter nights in front of the fire. It gives me just enough juicy zest to take the edge off my summer pining.

Even though I’d now be more likely to use honey or maple syrup, it’s taken me some time to crack through the caramelized bias of my youth. And oh! it’s been worth it. Like many openings of mind, there are so many more possibilities now. Winter squash, I’ve come to understand, are quiet about their sweetness. It’s easily upstaged by the more boisterous sugar. Next to the spice of cayenne though, the squash’s sweetness can be appreciated.

I feel like this post ought to start with some quip about the inferiority of Fig Newtons and Pop Tarts. But anything I think of either sounds lame or pretentious. “Fig Newtons are only a figment of your imagination compared to this!” or  “Pop Tarts: the illegitimate child of a tart.” See? I told you– I somehow manage to be lame and pretentious (and slightly risque) at the same time.

But seriously, when this

is compared to this

who can resist being a little lamtentious?

The amounts for the filling of this tart (goat cheese, figs, ect) are just approximations. So use more or less of each ingredient to suit your tastes. The only thing I’d recommend is using a light hand with the lavender; if you overdo it your tart can end up tasting like perfume. Ideally the sliced figs would be about 1/4 inch thick. They lay better that way and are easier to eat. However, if you like me are wearing a wiggly baby, feel free to just cut them in half and be done with it.

Also, this recipe very nearly begs to be photographed. So, indulge with me in some more sexy food oggling:

• 2-3 heads of broccoli
• 1 lemon
• Parmesan (opt)
• 2 tbs olive oil
• salt

Preheat oven to 350° to 425°. Higher is better, but if you’re sharing the oven with other dishes, the lower temperature will still get the job done.

Cut broccoli into florets. Turn it upside down and hold the end of the stem. Starting at the bottom of the crown, slice diagonally through the florets.  If any pieces come off too big, cut them in half.  Don’t forget about the stem! If it looks tough, peel it first.  Then slice it into roughly the same size as your florets.

Place the broccoli in an even layer on a half sheet pan and drizzle olive oil over them. Zest the lemon over the top. Then roll it gently on the counter, cut in half and squeeze the juice over the broccoli, using your fingers to strain out the seeds. Grate cheese over the top.  Sprinkle a pinch of salt.

Roast for 20-25 minutes. Taste test. Add a little more lemon or cheese if you want.  Serve immediately.