Welcome to the cooking chronicles of a new dad: I’ve always loved cooking — it’s the way that I unwind at the end of a long day at work (I’m a career educator in the New York City public school system), the way I express myself creatively, satisfy hungers, and…it’s fun. I turn up The Raconteurs (or World/Inferno Friendship Society, The Clash, The Drive-By Truckers, or…) on my record player, pull my Japanese knives from the wall, measure out ingredients like I’m on my own cooking show, and salt generously. Until December 2011, when my son, Nikolai was born, the premier audience member and taster on my private cooking show has been my lovely wife, Megan (and occasionally our cat, Tulu, when some delicious splatters end up on the floor). The nine months prior to Niko’s entry into the world, my focus had been on making food to nourish him on the inside — vitamin-rich, well-balanced meals for Megan to keep down (first trimester), big meals to keep up with her growing appetite (second trimester), and meals that could easily be broken into smaller more frequent meals when there wasn’t much room left for food in the belly (third trimester). The only restrictions I had were “Not too much garlic, honey, it’s weirdly giving me insomnia” and “More steamed greens, please!” — she really had pretty lame cravings as a pregnant lady, and wasn’t turned off by much, so I had a fairly clean slate. And I’m proud of the contribution I made to the healthy, sturdy, 10-pound baby that Megan delivered to us as an early Christmas present!