Like any foodie, I do love my indulgences. Recently discovered pleasures include the pucker-up tart seville orange marmalade from Josephine’s Feast, that sublimely creamy straciatella on the pizza I had the other day at Farm Shop in Marin, and that orgasmic cup of hot chocolate using┬áRecchiuti dark chocolate pistoles… However indispensable these are to the life well-lived, over the holidays I realized that my real foodie pleasure comes from preparing it, ┬ánot just consuming it. So I resolved to cook more, cook with more focus, more intention. While this realization would have many running to the nearest farmers market, for me, it starts with cookbooks and recipes. Now there are a billion lovely cookbooks out there, oozing with luscious imagery, compelling stories and the…