Savory

Mysteries and thrillers are two distinct forms of the crime fiction genre. The former revolve around the investigation of a crime by a professional or amateur sleuth; thrillers usually pit a hero against a villain whose diabolical plot is uncovered as the story progresses. Thrillers are particularly distinguished by their sense of urgency, placing the reader in the middle of the action, sometimes alongside the perpetrator. Sometimes mysteries and thrillers get their literary DNA scrambled and give rise to memorable hybrids like Thomas Harris' "The Silence of the Lambs" or Michael Connelly's "The Poet.

  Total time: 1 1/2 to 2 hours (includes rising time) Servings: 4 to 6 Note: Adapted from a recipe by Bruce Stutz. The topping can be varied into infinity; try adding black olives or substitute anchovies for the sausage. Botifarrita sausage is available at La Española Market in Harbor City; substitute Italian or spicy turkey sausage or kielbasa. 1 envelope yeast 2 1/2 cups flour 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt 7 tablespoons top-quality olive oil, preferably Spanish, divided, plus extra for greasing 4 large onions, very thinly sliced Coarse sea salt Freshly ground black pepper 1 small red bell pepper, cored, seeded and cut into thin strips 1/4 pound cooked sliced sausage, preferably Spanish botifarrita 1. For the dough, sprinkle the yeast over one-fourth cup warm water in a small bowl.

Deep-frying is the bacon of cooking techniques: It makes everything taste better. Do it with beignets, though, and you get the irresistible results in a more lyrical package. The word is almost as satisfying to say as the real thing is to eat. Beignets sound so much lighter and airier than fritters, but they are no easier to pass up.

Built from bread, accomplished easily -- a union of earthy ingredients, a single pan, the heat of the oven -- a bread pudding is a disarmingly simple dish. Yet this unassuming nature hides a wealth of soulful flavors, of satisfying textures, of delicious possibilities. Dip your fork past the burnished crust, into the glorious bready interior, and taste the complex flavors such simplicity can occasion. And if you need further proof of this pudding, try taking it savory instead of sweet.

ALL I was hoping for at lunch in the Nice-Cote d'Azur airport was something slightly better than the chicken or "beef" Air France would undoubtedly be shoveling out. What I got was a good table with a view of the sea (and runway), an even better rosé and the best idea for late summer cooking. It landed in the form of a clafouti made not with cherries but with cherry tomatoes.

For the last 10 years or so, a holiday tradition at our home has been a gingerbread-house decorating party. We provide bricks and mortar in the form of home-baked walls and fluffy icing, while family and friends bring edible decorations. As the building and landscaping commence, leftover scraps of spicy dough find their way into enough cookies to keep our energy levels up during the heavy construction.

THE joy of Thanksgiving collaboration takes many forms: one person cooks and everyone else eats, an everyone-brings-something dinner, a joint pie-baking project, a kids-pick-the-vegetables menu. But there's yet another way to partner on the day's cooking -- by ordering ahead and picking up a special dish or dishes to fill the gaps in your menu. The Times' tasting panel sampled 33 side dishes from the Thanksgiving menus of local specialty stores and markets with catering services.

NEXT time you find yourself in the kitchen with a baguette, a little duck fat or hazelnut oil and some lettuce, reach for an apple or a pear. Toast and oil the bread, grate the fruit, salt them and combine with the flash of green. Take a bite and you will almost think what you're eating is a BLT in fall clothing. And that's just the most basic example of how apples and pears are ripe for transformation into savory sensations.

END-OF-SUMMER vegetables, multicolored and burnished by the slowing heat of an accomplished season, have transformed the market stalls and produce aisles into Renaissance still life paintings. But eventually, glorious heirloom tomatoes and lavender Chinese eggplants need to make the transition from objets d'art to food. Even Caravaggio got hungry.