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In case you haven’t heard, the DC region got some serious snow this past weekend…some have been referring to it as “Snowpocalypse,” “Snomaggedon,” or just “SnOMG!”

Digging out after the February snowstorm in Washington, DC.

The world didn’t end when about 24 inches of snow fell in as many hours, but life did come to a screeching halt for most of us. No work, no shopping, no driving; even walking wasn’t really possible for a while (I tried; it took me 20 minutes to slog through one unplowed, uphill block). And although our power fortunately stayed on, the satellite TV and Internet connections conked out for a while, so other than reading and playing games (Scrabble, Monopoly, Wii, jigsaw puzzles…been there, done that), there was only one thing to do: Cook!

We had some groceries on hand, so I can’t report any further data on the question of eating snow, sorry. But situations like this certainly inspire more patience and creativity in the kitchen than usual, don’t they? One coworker tells me she baked this lovely gingerbread cake with blueberry sauce, which would never have fit into her normal schedule.

I took on lasagna, a task I normally leave to my Italian-blooded husband, and discovered that it’s downright amazing when you take the time to create layers of caramelized onions and fennel, oven-roasted eggplant slices, and greens sauteed with garlic.

I also made a stew from red lentils and frozen spinach; this was the first thing beyond eggs that I’ve ever cooked without glancing at a recipe (even when I know what I’m doing, I usually cross-reference several cookbooks for reassurance). The result was good enough to rouse my husband from the other room–where he’d been on a conference call when I brought him a bowl of it–with a look of wonder on his face. “What is this?” he asked. “It’s the best soup I’ve ever tasted!” Which is wonderful…except that I’ve already forgotten how to make it. I know it involved a vegetable bouillon cube, minced ginger and garlic, garam masala, crushed red pepper, and a scoop of creme fraiche on top; but the times and amounts were just guesswork. This recipe looks similar, if you want to try something like it.

And though I rarely bake sweets, I started craving cookies. With not quite enough flour and sugar, I did some math and tried to make this classic chocolate-chip cookie recipe in 2/3 the amount, adding a few tablespoons of maple syrup to make up for missing sugar, and tossing in a handful of dried cranberries in place of nuts. The cookies were ugly as heck (flat, flimsy puddles stuck to the baking sheet), but they actually tasted quite good.

Storms can also be a catalyst for communal eating experiences, as we found. Neighbors served up waffles and breakfast eggrolls (chopped hardboiled eggs and bits of turkey in wonton wrappers; a novel idea); homemade chili and jalapeno cheddar cornbread; coffee and cocktails. These were people we’d have otherwise missed getting to know in the bustle of daily routines, so I’m grateful.

What do you cook, or eat, when the weather holds you hostage at home?

Beer and cheese bread, courtesy of Flickr user gin_soak

According to the Nielsen Company, the Super Bowl is the 8th-largest beer-selling event of the year. This sounds a little low, but I’m guessing it has to do with the season (July 4 is #1).

Although I enjoy a beer now and then, I find it too filling to have more than one or two in a sitting. It feels more like a meal than a beverage. In fact, why not turn it into a meal? Beer imparts great flavor to all kinds of dishes, and a surprising variety of cultures use it in their cooking. It makes sense. After all, people cook with wine all the time.

Here are five good ways to use your next six-pack (which leaves you one to enjoy while you’re cooking):

1. Chili. I tried a lot of chili recipes before I hit on one that had the right depth and concentration of flavor for my taste: this Game-Day Chili from Southern Living magazine (I substitute ground turkey for the chuck, and chicken broth for the beef broth, and no one seems to mind). The magic ingredient (aside from lots of spice), is dark beer. I’ve tried various kinds, including a chocolate stout and a brown ale, and all seem to work.

2. Pasta Sauce. Wine is used in tomato sauce all the time, but it never would have occurred to me to use beer until I saw this recipe for Pasta with Spicy Tomato-Beer Sauce on Saveur magazine’s site. Made with Italian Bock beer, capers, sun-dried tomatoes, anchovies and Kalamata olives, it sounds pretty intensely flavored, but delicious.

3. Seafood Stew. Many Latin American cultures add beer to their seafood stews, like this Arroz con Mariscos from the Food Network, or this Enchilado de Camarones from Steven Raichlen’s Healthy Latin Cooking.

4. Bread. Considering that beer’s invention was probably related to bread making, it seems fitting to combine the two. The blog Farmgirl Fare (which has an adorable home-page illustration) offers several delicious sounding recipes, including Beyond Easy Beer Bread with cheddar and dill, Whole Wheat Beer Bread and Onion Rye Beer Bread.

5. Dessert. As I discovered last St. Patrick’s Day, Guinness and chocolate make a delicious cake—if you measure carefully. Apparently, you can also use stout to make a Beer Cream Pie, as they did at the blog Beer at Joe’s. If you prefer lighter beer, you can use Belgian white beer to make these spicy White Beer Cookies, an entrant in the Food Network’s Ultimate Recipe Showdown.

It’s been an unusual winter here in Washington, D.C., with dozens inches of snow so far in a region that usually escapes with a mere dusting. I grew up in Vermont, so waking up to white-washed views still makes me smile (at least, until I remember that I no longer live in the shadow of a ski resort), but I’m clearly in the minority. With another significant storm forecast for the weekend, local news reports are full of man-on-the-street quotes along the lines of, “I’m so sick of snow!”

Snow cream, courtesy Flickr user Chris Breeze

Which, tangentially, reminds me of a rumor I’ve often heard: eating snow makes you sick. Is that really true? I often put snow and icicles in my mouth while playing outside as a kid, and don’t recall any ill effects. And although snow is more like a plate than an ingredient in my favorite winter treat, sugar on snow, I always end up eating some of it in the process.

According to this 2008 Associated Press article, yes, snow does contain bacteria. In fact, bacteria form the foundation of some snowflakes! But hey, life is full of bacteria; they’re not all harmful. The AP article notes that studies have not examined how humans are affected by consuming snow-borne bacteria. It offers a quote from a pediatrician who is “not aware of any clinical reports of children becoming ill from eating snow,” but cautions against “a meal of snow.”

Googling “eat snow” turns up all sorts of fluff. There’s an “eating snow” fan page on Facebook, at least two tongue-in-cheek YouTube videos about cooking with snow, and several snow-related recipes. Snow cream, a mixture of snow, sugar, milk and vanilla, sounds pretty good!

There are also snowy drink ideas: one food writer recommends a “snow julep;” another likes a “snow margarita.” And hey, speaking of putting weird things in coffee…okay, yeah, that would probably just make for cold, watery coffee. But you could make coffee using snow, like this guy did.

In other words, there’s no consensus on resolving this deep matter. Eat snow at your own risk. Just make sure it’s white.

Gumbo, courtesy of Flickr user jytyl

On the list of things that I find exciting, football probably ranks somewhere between infomercials and the molecular structure of dust bunnies. But this year’s Super Bowl has increased my interest level by a couple of smidgens, if only because the New Orleans Saints are competing. The team has never made it to the Super Bowl before, and hails from a favorite place of mine, which also happens to be one of the country’s great food cities. So, even if you don’t get inspired by the underdog-finally-makes-it narrative, you’ve got to appreciate the potential for good game-time eats.

Despite the name of its football team, the Crescent City is better known for decadence than saintliness, and its cuisine is no exception. As Mark Twain once put it, “New Orleans food is as delicious as the less criminal forms of sin.”

According to the Institute for New Orleans History and Culture at Gwynedd-Mercy College, the city’s two major cuisines, Cajun and Creole, emerged from the blending of the many cultures of people that have settled there over the centuries. Creole combines French, Spanish, African and Native American influences; Cajuns are the descendants of people exiled from Acadia in Northeast Canada, who settled in the Louisiana swamps and learned to live on what was locally available (like shrimp and alligator).

From the French comes the roux, made by browning flour and butter or oil to provide a thick base for hearty sauces and stews. The Spanish introduced spices and the “holy trinity” of vegetables: bell peppers, onions and celery. Africans brought the vegetable (technically, a fruit) that is now probably most associated with the region’s cuisine, okra. Native American influence can be found in the use of bay leaf and sassafras, which, aside from being fun to say, can be turned into filé and used as a flavoring and thickener.

What do all of the above have in common? They are all classic elements of gumbo, one of the staples of New Orleans cuisine and a perfect dish to serve at a Super Bowl party (unless you’re a Colts fan, that is, in which case you may prefer breaded and fried pork tenderloin).

Gumbo is a thick soup or stew that comes in as many varieties as Campbell’s. It usually contains some combination of meat, seafood, vegetables and rice, and uses one or two (but never all) of the three thickeners—a roux, okra and/or filé. The latter, according to the Spice House, has the scent of eucalyptus or juicy fruit gum. Andouille sausage or another smoked meat is often added for additional depth of flavor.

The origins of gumbo are as murky as the bayou. According to What’sCookingAmerica.net, no one is even sure whether it is Cajun or Creole, but it’s been made in New Orleans since before there were written records.

Luckily, today there are not only written records but electronic ones that offer countless recipes for gumbo. Here a couple that will give you a flavor for three of the most common types of gumbo—seafood, chicken, and gumbo z’herbes, a vegetarian version that was traditionally eaten during Lent:

• Chicken and Smoked Sausage Gumbo
• Seafood Gumbo
• Gumbo Z’Herbes

This may be hard to believe, but long, long ago—in the days before creatures like Costcosaurus maximus and Walmartius rex had evolved to dominate the shopping landscape—there were no words on the back of cereal boxes.

Quaker Oats became America's first trademarked breakfast cereal in 1877. Photo courtesy Flickr user Rob Shenk

Okay, I knew that, and you probably did too. But I’d never given it much thought until I read food historian Andrew F. Smith’s latest book: “Eating History: 30 Turning Points in the Making of American Cuisine.”

One of the chapters is devoted to Quaker Oats, which in 1877 became the first trademarked breakfast cereal in the United States. People already ate oatmeal, sure, but they bought their oats in bulk from a local grocer or street peddler—no brand names or cartoon mascots involved. No morning ritual of reading the cereal box at the breakfast table.

Then a guy named Henry Crowell came along and changed everything. He took over a struggling oat mill business in Ravenna, Ohio, getting the rights to the Quaker trademark as part of the deal (after it had been briefly and unsuccessfully used to market whiskey). Canned foods were a hot new trend back then, and Crowell noticed the public’s growing appetite for colorful, conveniently sized packaging, so he began selling his oatmeal in distinctive cardboard cartons adorned with the brand’s trademark image.

Soon the cartons also featured recipes, since, as Smith notes, “most Americans had no idea what to do with oatmeal other than boil and eat it for breakfast.” The first, added to Quaker Oats packages in 1908, was extremely simple: Oat Cakes: 1/2 pound butter, 3 cups Quaker Oats, 2 eggs. (No instructions on how to combine or cook). These days, the company’s website features more detailed recipes like “Spicy Oat Crusted Chicken with Sunshine Salsa.”

By the turn of the 20th century, Quaker had some serious competition from ready-to-eat breakfast cereals (like Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, which Smith covers in another chapter of his book), so it turned toward products that required less preparation, like “quick oats” (introduced in 1922), Life cereal (1961) and instant oatmeal (1966). Now, the brand’s reach extends to granola bars, pancakes mix and even tortilla chips—which, as far as I can tell, don’t contain any oats.

Crowell was apparently a marketing genius, and many of his tactics influenced the way food products are sold even to this day—placing coupons and “free gifts” on or within a cereal box; using salespeople dressed as Quakers to hand out free samples to the public; and touting the food’s health benefits.

So, the next time I’m standing in the cereal aisle, feeling completely overwhelmed by the sea of slogans, logos, and sweepstakes opportunities, I’ll shake my fist at that serenely smiling Quaker dude.