I used to be a book pack-rat (a bookrat?), but after five moves in five years, I got tired of packing and unpacking boxes of books I would probably never read again and donated a bunch before I moved to Japan. My LA Public Library addiction has helped curb my book hoarding habit, but there are still a lot of books -- especially thrift store paperbacks, once my kryptonite -- taking up space that could be occupied by books I really love and want to read over and over again.

So I was excited to find out about Powell's Books online book-selling system. You go to their site, enter the ISBNs of all the books you want to get rid of and get a credit offer for the books they are interested in. If you accept the offer, you can print out a postage-paid shipping label, box up the books and send them to Powell's for free. After they receive the books and make sure they're in decent condition, the credit is applied to your account and you can buy a book or two that you really want.

Not surprisingly, I got kind of a nerdy thrill from entering all the ISBNs and finding out which books they actually wanted. It was sometimes a surprise. In general all the paperbacks purchased for college lit or film classes were a yes. The novels I was obsessed with when I was 15 (the non-Weetzie Bat books by Francesca Lia Block, anything by Douglas Coupland) were an unfortunate no. But I managed to rack up a $17 credit with thirteen books I didn't mind never seeing again and bought myself a book I could curl up with every night: Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home To Yours.

It's a beautiful book with incredible full-color photos. I left it open on the couch the day I got it and returned to find Rob flipping through the pictures. He turned to me and said, "My god. THIS BOOK." A rave review if ever I've heard one. I wanted to make something right away, but because I didn't feel like going to the grocery store, the inaugural recipe had to use only the ingredients I had on hand and had to have the potential to knock my socks off -- the Dressy Chocolate Loaf Cake was perfect. With two sticks of butter and eat-from-the-spoon-good chocolate sour cream frosting, how could it not be?

Now...how to turn my boxes of old clothes in the garage into some sort of fruit pie....

So whatever happened to the upside down tomato plants I planted on my balcony? Well, they grew huge on twice-daily waterings and once-weekly feedings, survived a couple neglectful trips out of town and have been supplying me with a steady stream of heirloom yumminess all summer, particularly the prolific Sunsugar.

The Sunsugar had a nasty leaf spot problem early on, which I treated with a bacterial spray. The woman at the nursery store showed me the organic fungicide options and said, "No one really chooses this one because it has bacteria in it. But I know it works." I felt sad for the misunderstood bacteria -- there are a lot of good bacteria in the world, you know -- so I bought it. It worked great. Yay for bacteria!

The Hollywood Farmers' Market had a tomato festival last Sunday, with free samples of maybe twenty types of tomatoes. After trying all of them, I have concluded that I like my own Black Krim tomatoes the best of all. Is it because I grew them myself? Perhaps. But they are also beautiful, with a rich, almost salty flavor. Too bad I'm lucky to harvest one every couple of weeks.

Not like the Sunsugar, which has been producing pints and pints of cherry tomatoes. Last week I used some in a simple pasta dish, which was such a big hit I made it again this week. I use the egg pappardelle noodles from Trader Joe's and basil and chives from my own plants. There's something uniquely satisfying about eating food you've grown yourself, don't you think?