Three square meals a day is finished. Heartiness plunged to its death from the Golden Gate Bridge. The entree, sadly, is dead. At least according Kim Severson of the New York Times it is, and we couldn't be more delighted. The article interviews chef Tom Colicchio who says, "I think the entree has been in trouble for a long time...[e]ating an entree is too many bites of one thing, and it’s boring."

Love it. So modern. So California. So eating-disorder.

To help you rid yourselves of that table centerpiece of mutton or leg of lamb, here's a nifty and somewhat insane hors d'oeuvres for you and your guests. It's found in Martha Stewart's Entertaining -- the tome responsible for her popularity, continued abuse of the term "oriental," and overall maniacal genius -- so you know it's perfect for all of you obsessive compulsives out there. Described as a "wisp of taste," these stuffed snow peas will compliment any holiday party or party for one. They lack heavy carbs and breadiness of your typical tiny ham quiches. Plus, your guests will think you're mentally unfit after blanching, slicing open, stuffing, and sprig-adorning a bunch of tiny snow peas. "These are amazing! Wow. So is everything alright with you these days?" they'll say.

The recipe, unapproved by the Chez Panisse mafia, after the jump.

Snow Peas With St. Andre (50 to 60 hors d'oeuvres)

50 to 60 tender young snow peas
1/2 pound St. Andre cheese (or Boursin)
Fresh mint (it says "optional," but we can't recommend it enough for taste and sheer insanity)

Remove stem ends from snow peas, and blanch in a large pot of rapidly boiling water for 30 seconds. Plunge them immediately into [ice cold] water water to stop the cooking process and preserve their beautiful green color.

With a small sharp knife, slit open the straight seam of each snow pea and pipe softened cheese into each one, using a small-tipped pastry tube, or spread with a small spatula. [In a pinch, a Zip-Loc baggie works just as well.] Garnish each pod with a small leaf of mint just poking out at the top of each snow pea.