Last fall, I wrote a few posts for this website, heading down a path I was sure would lead to fame and fortune as a food writer. It wouldn’t be long before Gail Simmons was calling me to do a story and Rachael Ray was looking to me for advice on new ways to serve chickpeas. But then I hit a literal bump in the road in my relationship with food — pregnancy. I spent the first three months “uneating” my dinner every night at ten only to wake up ravenous at 3 am. Why exactly is it called morning sickness? Then, I took a job as a camp counselor for 3- and 4-year-olds, which left me with exactly enough energy each afternoon to go home and go to bed, sometimes at 7 pm. Eating became rote, done primarily to keep my stomach from devouring itself before I could make it downstairs for breakfast.

My darling boy arrived in September at a robust 8 lbs, 6oz.. I guess someone was getting enough to eat. Now that the haze of the first few months has lifted, I am back to some of my old hobbies, namely cooking and writing. Plus, we finally polished off the last casserole in the freezer. For my return, I have a recipe that represents my life — the same as a year ago, but really not the same at all. Here’s an updated take on last year’s baked stuffed pumpkin: