Dozens of food-related books, mostly cookbooks, cross my desk all year. Most of them are donated to the library or given to friends. The ones that I keep stand out because they speak to the times or they are practical and geared to the home cook. It's important that they be easy to use in the kitchen -- readable, workable and not cumbersome. Photos are always welcome but not a deal breaker.

Before we look at this year's faves, a couple of complaints.

First, has black ink fallen out of favor? Are pastels the new black? Must the people under 40 who do book design force their eyeglass-wearing elders to squint? I would love to get into James Peterson's excellent new reference book, "Sauces," but the print is smallish and the ink color, brick on cream paper, makes it way less accessible.

And are "real" cookbooks becoming obsolete? Recipes are now accessible on handheld devices including iPhones. They are Google-able on the Internet. Cooking tutorials, aka cooking shows, are as handy as Channel 49 on cable television. Please. I prefer hand-held, stain-the-page, read-in-bed books. Like these.

"Fat" by Jennifer McLagan (Ten Speed Press, $32.50)

Why would anyone write a book on fat? Because it makes everything we eat taste better. Fat carries the flavor. Fat has been demonized for decades by the Jack Sprats of medical science and media spawning tons of books about low-fat, no-fat and cut-the-fat, and all of them are tiresome.

This cookbook is as much scholarly work as a recipe collection, with essays on the history and culture of fat and sidebars on scientific facts. The pages are larded, you should excuse me, with photos and recipes that celebrate fat. Subjects include butter, lard, bacon fat, schmaltz, confit, fois gras, marrow, drippings and suet. "Fat" includes these recipes: Salted Butter Tart, Cassoulet, Yorkshire Pudding and Duck Fat Biscuits with Cracklings. It's a fabulous gift for serious cooks.

"How to Cook Everything Vegetarian" by Mark Bittman (Wiley, $35)

Mark Bittman knows how home cooks think. Both this book and his long-running and best-selling "How to Cook Everything" contain a wealth of information. Charts and lists rule: measurements, substitutions, 25 dishes that use grilled vegetables, big-deal vegetable dishes for holidays, 30 fillings for baked potatoes, 10 taco and burrito ideas, a table of everyday grains and on and on. He says, "I wrote this book to increase the proportion of plant-based foods in our diets." Ah, but he didn't mention delicious, which is what his recipes are. After you scan the 2,000 recipes and turn down page corners, keep the book on the kitchen shelf. This is one volume that will see much use. I used it exclusively for a week, added the occasional chicken thigh or lamb chop to the plate, and called myself a flexitarian. Looks like a very veggie 2009 at our house.

"Amarcord" by Victor and Marcella Hazan (Gotham Books, $27.50)

Marcella, now retired, is an icon, the woman who introduced a generation to pleasures of the Italian table. Amarcord means "I remember" in her Romagnolo dialect, and the memoir tells about her childhood in Egypt (who knew?), her ambition to become a doctor and professor of science in Italy, her romance with Victor (an American Jew), and her move to Manhattan. As a newlywed, she worked full time in a research laboratory but still cooked dinners every night "because I had no mother or grandmother at home to do it for me." She was "discovered" by Craig Claiborne, who invited himself to lunch and then wrote about her in The New York Times. Afterward, she gave cooking classes, then the first of her cookbooks was published, and she was on her professional way.

I studied with Marcella and Victor in one of their first weeklong cooking sessions in Bologna in the late 1970s. To help publicize the new venture, she invited James Beard and Marion Cunningham to class. We, eight students, including the as-yet-undiscovered Lynne Rosetto Kasper, learned to make tortellini en brodo, tasted our first balsamic vinegar and danced on the beach at Cesenatico. Amarcord, indeed.

What readers may be surprised to learn is that while the recipes we've been reading all these years are all Marcella, the words are all Victor's. The two have been lifelong collaborators and writing partners. Their son, Giulianno, is keeping the family tradition alive with his cooking schools and books. Do take a long look at the end pages, a sepia-toned illustrated map of Northern Italy, with sketches of Victor and Marcella.

"Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics" by Ina Garten (Clarkson Potter, $35)

What are basics? No, not trends. No, not a return to three squares with meat and potatoes. The "Contessa's" basics mean taking ordinary ingredients and cooking or pairing them in a way that "unlocks" their true flavors.

To accurately describe her recipes requires the enthusiastic use of adjectives: sweet Maple Butternut Roasted Squash, simple French Apple Tart, savory palmiers. The woman knows how to set a table, garnish a plate and plan a memorable menu. Like Mark Bittman, she knows the value of a list: Ten Things Not to Serve at a Dinner Party, Top Ten Flavor Boosters, Set a Table like a Pro, Arrange Flowers Like a Pro, Ten No-Cook Things to Serve for Dessert. No wonder this book won a top spot on The New York Times best-seller list.

Bet You Didn't Know Department: In 1978, Ina Garten was working in the White House Office of Management and Budget. She wanted something more creative. She came across an ad in the Times for the sale of a specialty-food store in the Hamptons and decided to check it out. She and her husband, Jeffrey, drove to Long Island to see the store and she fell in love. With zero experience in the food business, Ms. Garten made the owner a low offer, thinking she'd go home and mull it over. But, the owner called the next day and said, "I accept." One specialty store, many cookbooks, a television show and a line of commercial cake mixes later, the Contessa is a culinary legend.

"Rachael's Big Orange Book" by Rachael Ray (Clarkson Potter, $24.95)

For every one of you who think Yummo Girl is a tad ditzy, I can name five more people who adore her. She attracts people to the kitchen, has them cooking, knows what succeeds and always leaves 'em grinning.

The cookbook's name comes from the fact that, duh, the cover is orange. It is a good resource for weeknight cooking and is loaded with new 30-minute meals, vegetarian dinners, meals for one, kosher meals and holiday menus, all of them uncomplicated. Unlike in Rachael's show, where she appears to be winging recipes, these have accurate measures.

My criticism is with layout: Ingredients are jammed into a column in the gutter, beside the method, instead of the easier-to-read format with ingredients listed at the top of the page, the method below. Second picky point: Every recipe that calls for oil lists it as EVOO (extra-virgin olive oil), and that redundant cuteness gets tiring. Still, the "Big Orange" is a good choice for Rachael's fans and most cooks new to the kitchen.

"Bake Until Bubbly: the Ultimate Casserole Cookbook" by Clifford Wright (Wiley, $22.95)

The way the economy is headed, it might be time to dust off the old casserole dish. The Great Depression of the 1930s meant that home cooks needed economical dishes for families, and the casserole was it. In 1934, the Campbell Soup Co. made its first cream of mushroom soup, and because it was cheap, mushroom soup quickly became an essential ingredient in American casseroles. Casserole dishes also go by the names bakes, gratins, crisps, hot dishes, hot pots, medleys and "surprises."

Today, there is no more putting convenience above taste. Mr. Wright, a scholar and the author of 10 cookbooks, has assembled casseroles for all times of day, from eggs to seafood, meats, veggies, pastas and grains. I marked these pages: Egg and Bacon Strata, Eggplant Parmesan, Moussaka, Tamale Pie, Sicilian Rice Pudding. And I got a kick out of Widower's Casserole, a perennial favorite in Florida retirement homes. When a man's wife departs this world, he is soon inundated with casseroles from wily widows with elder-romance on the mind. "Eat, Dahling! There's more where that came from."