I'm not really a New Year's Eve kind of guy.

Well, perhaps I should say that I'm not one to "go out" on December 31st -- there are drunks driving out on the road, restaurants run terrible, over-priced prix fixe menus, and, when the strike of midnight arrives, it's often, more than not, a little bit of a let down. That's not to say that I don't like getting together with friends. Armed with an overcoat, a decent pair of gloves and a working subway system, I'll do my best to put in an appearance, a bottle of cava in hand.

Anyway, after years of NYE naysaying, karma finally caught up with me -- this past Thursday, I rang in 2010 by myself, and in a decidedly uncomfortable position. The Pasta Burner was out of town (visiting her family), and, while working on a few projects around the house, I threw out my back something wretched. Indeed, as 11:59 became 12:00, I found myself horizontal, a heating pad tucked underneath me, the Times Square ball appearing to drop left-to-right.

Candy-making can be intimidating, it's true. No one likes struggling with molten sugar and thermometers, and, all too often, what ends up being produced at home still isn't up to the quality and craftsmanship of store-bought treats.

And yet, there are a few quick treats that are, relatively speaking, painless to create, and which look as (if not more) attractive than their professionally-made cousins. Today's recipe falls into both of those categories, and it's incredibly versatile to boot.

The techniques and shortcuts I'm going to present today aren't particularly revolutionary, at least in candy-making circles. That being said, they're not well-known by most home cooks. Consider today's post a way to acquire a handy ability, a way to develop yet another skill you'll be able to call upon in the kitchen. Let's get to it.

I was going to post the Senegalese recipe that I promised you last week, but I'm afraid there's something we have to address first.

You see, one of my favorite things about Burning Pasta is the feedback that I receive from readers. Whether in the form of post comments, e-mails, Facebook notes, or in-person conversation, it’s always gratifying to know that people are not only reading, but also enjoying the content here on a regular basis.

Unfortunately, all too often, I hear a common refrain in these communiqués, which, if I might paraphrase it, goes something like this: “I love reading the blog and looking at the pictures, but a lot of the recipes seem beyond my skill level.” While I’d heartily disagree – neither myself nor the Pasta Burner have any formal cookery training whatsoever – I can understand and sympathize with such concerns.

However, the truth of the matter is that such worries are baseless -- chefs obfuscate, cookbooks lie, and, as a result, there are certain ingredients and preparation techniques that we’ve been brainwashed about; we become convinced they are just shy of impossible to pull off. Among these, I would argue that no area of the kitchen is more clogged with cloak and dagger intrigue than the domain of the pâtissier, no food more fetishized in this manner than French pastry.

I’m here to tell you that many of those breathless demands about French baking that you’ve heard – your butter has to be at an exact temperature; you have to use ten different kinds of flour for ten different kinds of bread; you have to rise your yeast breads in a towel; you need to follow every inch of traditional technique or else all is lost and you’ve disgraced Belle France herself – it’s all just meant to scare you, to keep you from trying, to make sure you spend your days reading food blogs instead of cooking from them.

Well, no more, I say! This week’s recipe is as classic and delicious as French pastry gets, except for one thing – we’re tossing out all the technique. Let’s get to it.

(Facebook Readers: Please click here to read this week's entry -- for whatever reason, Facebook doesn't want to import all the pictures. Thanks!)

Let me start by saying this -- these ribs don't have to be made on a Saturday. For that matter, this isn't exactly traditional Molé, either. It is, however, quite easy to make, fall-off-the-bone tender, and redolent with pork-y deliciousness.

A lot of people like the idea of cooking ribs, but they hold themselves back -- they think they need a grill, or a smoker, or a big barbecue pit to get the flavors and textures best associated with road-side stands, ice-cold Cokes, and the summer sun.

The truth of the matter is that ribs are easier to make than you might think; indeed, all you need is an oven and a long, lazy afternoon.