When I come home from the farmer’s market, toting a basket of fruit, the inevitable chain of events that follows goes something like this: I place the fruit on the counter, walk over to my recipe binders to grab the blue dessert binder, then go stand in front of my cookbook cabinet, scanning titles, mentally flipping the pages I know so well, grab a few books for inspiration, then plop myself on the couch, preferrably with a cup of coffee in hand, to decide what fate my little fruits will meet.