It was halfway through the second episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. My hand, bearing a potato chip laden with French onion dip, stopped halfway to my mouth. Unless the show got cancelled, which I was hoping was unlikely (Who knew that Matthew Perry could so convincingly play a character other than Chandler?) I had at least 11 weeks left of sitting here on Monday nights. Then, of course, there's Lost on Wednesdays and The Office on Thursdays. And when does 24 start up again?

15-ounce can cannelloni beans, drained and rinsed

1 small shallot, roughly chopped

juice of ½ lemon

2 tablespoons nonfat Greek-style yogurt, such as Total

1 ½ teaspoon cumin

¼ teasoon cayenne

1 tablespoon fresh cilantro leaves, minced

salt and pepper

In a food processor, combine cannelloni beans, shallot, lemon juice and yogurt, puree until smooth. Add cumin, cayenne and cilantro, pulse to combine. Add salt and pepper to taste, add more seasonings if needed. Garnish with more minced cilantro leaves, if desired. Serve with pita chips, below.

My favorite new snack food is an old nemesis of mine. I never thought I'd find anything nice to say about mulberries; in my book, they're literally for the birds. Every summer we get bombarded by bland, seedy berries from the five mulberry trees in our yard; the birds love them, but they leave a layer of rotting, fermented mulberries spread across the driveway like good jam gone bad.

I've tried to put the berries to good culinary use. After all, Alice Waters calls mulberries "sublime," and I know people who've had her mulberry ice cream and swear it was delicious. My mulberry ice cream was a seedy disaster. I made a pie, too; it wasn't so bad, but anything tastes good if you add enough sugar. It's true that some varieties of mulberries taste better than others, but we've got three different kinds, and they all seem to lack flavor.