"Any time of the day is a good time for pie." ~ Fabienne, played by Maria de Medeiros in Pulp Fiction. 

I am driving down St. Clair. It is long past lunch time. I am hungry. I see a brightly painted restaurant at the corner of St. Clair and Coit Rd. I have a weakness for bright colors. For years I drank Busch beer because I thought the cans were pretty. I see a sign promising 2 Polish Boys for $5. This makes my decision easy.

At a certain moment, about halfway through our visit at the Azman’s Quality Meats shop on East 185th street, it dawned on me that not only was this visit (and, thus, this article) the last of our series on the Collinwood Sausage District, but that I was also a little bit bummed out about that fact.

Over the past several weeks, as Bridget and I have traveled to the cornerstone sausage purveyors in the community, we’ve both learned a lot about how sausage is made and, more importantly, come to know the folks in the neighborhood responsible for bringing us the Slovenian charcuterie that graces our tables during the holidays (and most days between). It has been a wonderful way to meet our neighbors that we don’t see at the gallery openings, movie nights, and rock shows we otherwise spend our time attending.

Every Irish-American family I know seems to have its own tradition of soda bread, a quick bread whose leavening comes from baking soda rather than yeast—with no two recipes just alike. This recipe is from my mother's family, the Mullallys (the stone carvers, not the funeral directors) and I don't offer it as the definitive "Irish" loaf at all. It's sweeter than most I've tasted, owing to the iberal sprinkling of butter and sugar on the top. It's the one time of year I have occasion to buy buttermilk, although the lady in front of me in line at Dave's was delighted to see I'd found the buttermilk (in fact, I'd had to request it from the dairy manager, who graciously brought some out from the back cooler) as she was shopping for her mom and was going to have to make another stop otherwise. Apparently it's good over cornbread. Can you make it with dark raisins? With less sugar or more? With ground nuts? You may, and you'll be on your way to developing your own family's tradition of soda bread. . . 

Best and belated New Year's wishes to all the Observer readers from the Partlow/Slea household! Dave, Marvin and I are rooting for our neighborhood and neighbors! I'm sure there's plenty of us who've resolved to eat better or get healthier in 2010. That's commendable. I'm resolving to pull off some more good grades and write more often! But hey, that's me-- we're talking about YOU. If you were expecting to find some low-fat stuff here in this column, sorry! But read on, I am going in the 'healthy' direction.

You’ve likely heard the term “local food” a lot recently. It’s one of those food ideas, like “organic” or “all natural” or “healthy," that comes popping up every few years. Like those other terms, “local food” is open for interpretation. I’ve seen Giant Eagle tout their bakery as “local” because it’s made in the store and I’ve seen Starbucks say that they're your “local” coffee shop because there’s one on every corner. Since these guys have the money to blanket the city with advertising and outlets, trying to figure out what “local food” means can be pretty confusing.

As a trustee on the board of the Coit Road Farmers Market, I’ve had the opportunity to learn a lot about what has become known as the “local food movement.” In recent years there’s been a rise in the demand for locally produced foods, and for good reason. With all of the e-coli outbreaks and other food-borne disease scares, it makes sense to want to know where your food is coming from. And it’s obviously a good idea to give your dollar to the guy down the street for something to eat rather than seeing that dollar go out of state, or even out of the country.

It's a variation on good old Rice Crispy treats. You use cornflakes instead, dye everything green, coat your fingers with butter so they don't burn while you shape the mixture into little holly shaped clumps, add those little red cinnamon candies for berries and you're done.

6 cups cornflakes

1 bag marshmallows

3 tablespoons butter

green food coloring

red cinnamon candies

   The 5th Dimension had one less egg to fry, and Jules Winfield in Pulp Fiction rescinded his gangster ways while dining on this meal. John Hughes directed the classic coming-of-age flick The Breakfast Club. Seems that only the entertainment world thinks much of breakfast, and that's a shame. It really is the most important meal of the day, but who wants a lecture that soon after waking up? Don't worry, Mrs. Butterworth isn't going to call you on it.

Pizza. Invoking dreams of parties and cold breakfasts, American pizza is an icon. Thin crust, thick crust, Chicago-style, New York-style; I don't care what style it is as long as there are no mushrooms on it! But since you're reading this, I hope you'll have figured on it being home-style.

Can’t you just hear Homer Simpson say those words? You'll be saying it too, once you get a whiff of this easy-peasy loaf baking in your oven.

Why am I writing this article? Where's Laura, your no-nonsense instructor for Collinwood Cooks 101? Well, the deal is that she's also in school and working full time, so she's going to do her column every other issue and we'll run a recipe that YOU submit on the odd weeks.

   Could you read the title of that headline? Than you've just uncovered a truth. And with that truth you can wow your friends, improve any potluck, and bring smiles to your family.