3 Simple Things

Chris + Salad* at Serpentine, 2010  
*Those beets are pickled and they are marvelously good!

I.    A  NOTE

Returning from a long weekend away and finding the following email in my inbox. 

Subject: my little fruit salad

hi dene,

i just thought of you as i sliced and diced one bosc pear, one gala apple, one banana, and squeezed an entire cara cara orange over the top... plain, simple, and delicious, and enough for two days for me, or one serving each for you and chris.

love you :)
mom

II.    A  CALL
Just recently, my father was quite determined to find a poem he recalled from his childhood.  He called me to see if I could help him figure it out.  I was pretty quick, but Dad found it first.  

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost 

III.    A  LONG  LUNCH  AND  A  BOOK
Tie between a long luxurious lunch with Chris (pictured above) and his reading an entire Annie Dillard book to me one day during a long weekend spent in Pescadero.   

Getting carded at Duarte's after ordering a Sierra Nevada almost made III. a 3-way tie, but I decided against it.

Share your 3?  

more here...

the next-big-thing

Twirl, January 2006

Is it odd that during this festive shopping season, when so many search for or hope to receive the perfect new item, I find myself struggling to part with the old?  Isn't it the stereotypical husband who insists on keeping his favorite old sweatshirt and the stereotypical wife who twirls in front of the mirror in her new party dress?  What kind of wife am I anyway?  Sheesh.

I do like to buy or receive something bright and shiny every once in a while.  But more prominent in my life are the few things I already own and hold close to my heart--the things I cannot let go.  Don't get me wrong, I'm quite selective with what I decide is worth keeping.  The space we call home is petite, so what stays must be truly dear.  I'm not a pack rat. I don't have an attic filled with my entire past and although these would serve as completely acceptable items to treasure, I'm not talking about my great grandmother's exquisite wedding dress or the collection of fine china that has traveled continents and been passed down through generations.

No, I refer more to things that figure in to my day-to-day life.  Items such as an extraordinarily comfortable and well-worn (bordering on over-worn) pair of jeans, a cozy sweater that is slowly disintegrating, but still feels warm and beautiful, and my frazzled scarf that I know should be retired. When I wear these things I return to wonderful places in my life.

I bought the jeans right before we got married and wore them with a sexy black halter to meet family and friends for drinks at our favorite neighborhood bar a few days before our wedding.  The sweater?  It was folded up on a table in one of my favorite shops when I saw it, the yarn was a creamy white color.  The cuffs, fabric flanking the zipper, and the interior of the hood, were made of satin and were the same beautiful winter white -- completely impractical.  I tried it on anyway and then had to have it.  My best choices are rarely practical.  As it turns out, it wasn't that impractical.  It's now years later and I'm still wearing it, today as a matter of fact.  I'm not sure what others think when they see me wearing this sweater, but it feels so good against my skin and it's so easy for me to forget it's current state and slip back to feeling as if I just unfolded it and I'm in the shop seeing myself in the mirror, wearing it for the very first time.  The scarf?  Chris gave it to me, just a fun purchase from a chain store.  It is not cashmere.  It is not handmade by anyone near and dear.  It is very special to me.  It did keep me warm through the winter while walking to and from the worst job I ever had and it stayed with me through the cold and frustrating days and nights in my studio as I worked my way through graduate school.

I love these things. Fortunately, I do not to need to save them. I have replaced each and every piece.  Still, I just can't seem to part with them.

Perhaps this connects to a theory of my father's.  He believes there are vast differences between his meeting an individual for the first time as an adult and revisiting a relationship with someone he knew when they were both young.  He feels a certain comfort level and an ability to let his guard down in the revisiting scenario.  He doesn't have the same questions and concerns that he has when meeting someone new because he already has a solid platform from which to begin.  He doesn't need to know everything about the friend he is revisiting.  He believes yes, this person might have accumulated some baggage during their journey, but somehow it is all forgiven because he understands the true essence of this person. He feels he "gets" who they are because he knows who they were before any of these mishaps occurred.

I think I'm a bit more skeptical, or maybe just too curious.  I need to fill in more blanks than Dad deems necessary.  My jeans, sweater, and scarf have been with me all along.  They never ventured off and lived in other closets before coming back to me.  We've been together through thick and thin and we've held close together the entire time.  This might also explain the extent to which I value my marriage.  Chris, I hope you know you are a smidge more valuable than my favorite sweater.  We've built this life together, and a wonderful life it is.  That being said, Dad's theory remains a very interesting concept and I like that it works for him.  It's sort of romantic, isn't it? 

So what am I trying to say here?  As this year winds down and we look back at what is most important in our lives my guess is that the majority of those things, if not all of them, are NOT newly acquired.  Hold on tight to the good stuff.  Appreciate it.  Often the next-big-thing is something we already possess.

Christopher

Christopher in Waitsfield, Vermont
Summer 2006

Curious and warm.
Growing uninhibitedly,
as a seed emerges from the earth.
Smiling at the sun.

My plum (scarf), it's done!

My new plum scarf. Completed November 3, 2009.

I have been putting this poor scarf on hold for what seems an eternity. First it was tabled so I could knit a hat for Chris (my first circular needle project). I used an interesting blue and grey yarn he selected from Art Fibers. The hat ended up being several sizes too large, but that's beside the point. It was still a fine hat, albeit rather large. Then I put my scarf on hold again to knit little Hadley a sweet peanut-sized cotton scarf. I used another lovely Art Fibers yarn, it looked like the sky on a near-clear day. Next, I knit a scarf for Mom. I used a beautiful cream-colored Be Sweet yarn that I bought during a "yarn tasting" at Bluebird Yarn in Sausalito. There was also the scarf I knit for myself with large needles and a wonderful Japanese yarn I found at Greenwich Yarn. The needles were very big, so I could knit it quickly and get back to my delicate little plum scarf, but then I started a striped scarf for Chris... Finally, I put the striped scarf on hold to work on my very own plum scarf.

Today I completed my plum scarf. I am so pleased! It is made from a gorgeous 76% silk 19% superkid mohair 5% wool yarn I selected from Art Fibers before they left their San Francisco location. It's beautiful and it feels fantastic.

But why is the sun shining so brightly and why is the forecast showing a high of 78 degrees in San Francisco today? Sigh...

Good Poem Hunting

My best friend's breakfast. September, 2009

Do you have a favorite poem?

Whenever I'm asked this question I think of a very early work of Sylvia Plath's, Jilted. It reminds me of so many of the thoughts I had during my adolescent years. Looking back, those thoughts seem sweet and cute, but back then it was all very serious.

Would you share your favorite poem with me (just post it in the comments section)?

Side note:
Here's wishing you find the perfect light, and when you do, that you happen to be with someone who will pause, put down his fork and knife, and be patient while you work.

But is it work? No, not really.

Enjoy your day.

Lunch @ Wexler's

Photo: Kevin Bond via Google images

Miracles do happen. Today is July 13th, technically summer, and... it actually feels like summer here in San Francisco. This does not occur often. I am filled with joy! This is cause for celebration.

On this perfect summer day, I was lucky enough to be treated to the most perfect summer lunch. We met at a new restaurant, Wexler's, located on Sacramento Street, between Montgomery and Sansome. Wexler's is a beautiful little restaurant with simple cream-colored walls and red chandeliers. A custom-made wood canopy invites you inside and then ripples above you through the entire restaurant.

The decor was cozy, and the rippling canopy interesting, but it was the food that truly caught my attention. I ordered the the trio below, starting with the cucumber soup and ordering the squid salad as my entree.

I enjoyed having my cucumber soup assembled on the table right in front of me. It was beautiful. Three petite dollops of the smoky ricotta and thin ribbons of bell pepper confit were brought out in a large shallow bowl, a perfect match for the cool and clean taste of the smooth-as-silk cucumber soup poured into the bowl from a small cast iron teapot. The server poured while I smiled and observed as the soup flowed slowly from the teapot spout, filling in the space surrounding the tiny ricotta and pepper islands.

My salad was impeccably balanced. Lightly dressed frisee, little squares of delicately fried green tomatoes, sweet supremed orange slices, tender squid, and the heat of a few thin rings of bright red pickled chilies (I adored the chilies!).

We shared the banana cream pie. A drizzle of Dulce de Leche topped with a slice of creamy pie and a few caramelized banana slices arranged neatly beside the pie--all sprinkled with just a hint of Fleur de Sel.

The combination of colors, temperatures, tastes, and textures in all three of my selections created a beautiful and delicious summer lunch. I couldn't have been happier.

Chilled Heirloom Cucumber Soup - $8
Smoked Ricotta, Bell Pepper Confit

Monterey Bay Squid Salad - $9
Fried Green Tomatoes, Pickled Fresno Chiles, Orange

Bourbon Banana Cream Pie - $6
Dulce de Leche, Fleur de Sel

perception

I burned the onions,

but he didn't seem to mind.

He ate them all,
every last bit.

Puttering About in a Small Kitchen

Chinese, Japanese, and Italian eggplant

my notes...

Earlier this week I went a little food crazy.

Chris was working late one night when I decided to tackle the lemon-blueberry yogurt cake recipe from Smitten Kitchen that I had stumbled upon during my blueberry recipe search. There were some perfect blueberries lounging in my kitchen that needed to be put to good use. I'd happily eaten many straight from the bowl, but was in the mood to bake something with the rest. I proceeded to dirty a few bowls, measuring cups & spoons, and a bread pan. I changed very little in the recipe. I subsituted whole wheat flour for 1/3 of the white flour and added the lemon juice and powdered sugar glaze mentioned in her list of other ideas for the cake.

Of course, baking a cake wasn't enough. I felt some sort of magnetic pull toward using each and every bowl, pan, and utensil in my kitchen. I didn't fight it. It reminded of the night my mom and I decided to bake an apple pie. The mood did not strike until midnight. We decided to just go with it and headed out the door toward a nearby 24-hour grocery store. We were sleepy and silly, yet muddled through the recipe and were happily enjoying our homemade pie a few hours later. It's one of my favorite memories.

There were leftovers I could have eaten. It could have been an easy and low key night, but instead I felt inspired to remain in the kitchen and make something with the eggplant stash I'd purchased earlier in the day. Chris and I had been perusing the stands at the Tuesday market following an exceptional lunch at Boulette's Larder--they do everything right and this day had been no exception. We turned a corner and found ourselves standing in front of a table piled high with eggplant of all sorts, Japanese, Chinese, and Italian. I was studying the different shapes and sizes and trying to decide which type I preferred when Chris suggested Why don't you buy all three. Cook them all and see which you like best. I said Oh yes yes, The Eggplant Challenge. Good idea! I bought one of each.

At this point I'd prepared the batter, but the cake still needed to bake for 50 minutes. My eggplant challenge would have to wait. I only have one oven in this small kitchen you know... Luckily, I'm almost opposed to kitchen gadgets and appliances, so the small size of my kitchen isn't much of an issue (although I wouldn't mind a south facing window in front of my sink...). I'm a back-to-basics type when it comes to the kitchen and see most gadgets and appliances as superfluous. I just need a few good pans, a sharp knife, and a cutting board.

So, while the cake baked, I decided to prep the ingredients I'd need for my challenge and the ingredients for a pasta dish I was concocting in my head. The pasta dish had been inspired by an eggplant based recipe I'd seen on The Wednesday Chef the prior week. My version ended up a little different from Luisa's and Melissa's, but the core of the original recipe remained fairly intact. I switched to whole wheat pasta (Eduardo's whole wheat penne), went back to Melissa's lamb versus beef (for some reason I was in such a lamb mood this week...3 meals w/ lamb!), added some grape tomatoes, used three types of eggplant versus one, substituted cilantro for mint, and swapped out yogurt and melted butter for Parmigiano-Reggiano that I grated on top (sometimes I'm so predictable).

The cake was set to cool and I was finally able to cook the eggplant. I diced each eggplant into cubes of about 1/2-3/4", tossed them in olive oil, garlic (just a little), and salt before spreading each variety onto its own pan and placing those pans inside a 500 degree oven. The eggplant cooked quickly, in about 15 minutes. I let it cool slightly and then grabbed my notepad and pen and began tasting and taking notes.

The Japanese eggplant was soft and creamy, it almost melted in my mouth. This sounds nice, but frankly I enjoyed the other two more firmly textured varieties over the melt-in-your-mouth variety. It was a little sour. The skin was slightly bitter and the thickest of the three, but it did crisp up a bit and that was nice. I was surprised because I'd anticipated that the Japanese eggplant would be my favorite. It ranked 3rd (aka - last).

The Italian eggplant had the "eggplant taste" with which I am most familiar. It turns out that most familiar does not equate to best, not by any means. The skin was chewy, but not as thick as the Japanese. The skin did not crisp up at all. The seeds of the Italian eggplant were most prominent. It held its shape during cooking better than the Japanese, but not as well as the Chinese. The taste, especially when compared side-by-side with the Japanese and Chinese varieties, fell very flat. It was quite bland and I'll reiterate that this bland taste appeared after being tossed in olive oil, garlic, and salt. This not a good thing. The Italian eggplant ranked 2nd.

The Chinese eggplant held its shape during cooking. It had the thinnest skin. There weren't any bitter or sour notes noticed during the tasting. The skin was thin and unobtrusive. It absorbed the olive oil, garlic, and salt nicely. This eggplant was firm yet soft on the inside, and lightly crisp on the outside. There was a hint of sweetness in the flesh. The Chinese eggplant was the clear winner.

By the time I'd baked and glazed the cake, performed the eggplant challenge, and prepared my pasta dish, it was quite late and I was almost too sleepy to enjoy my creations, but I didn't mind. It was worth it. It might not be every girl's idea of a good time, but I actually enjoyed my evening of puttering about in the kitchen for hours on end.

Just as I finished my bowl of late-night pasta, Chris walked in the door. We sat down at the kitchen table together and ate slices of sweet cake before collapsing into bed and falling quickly into a deep and restful sleep.

sometimes the city makes you soft

I've always believed that living in the the city resulted in toughening up and living in the country softened people. Today I'm not so sure.

I started thinking back to one of our Stinson Beach Motel vacations. We spent our mornings rising early enough to jump out of bed and rush to the picnic area near the beach before anyone else would arrive and disturb our favorite gopher (there were probably several gophers, but we liked believing that we saw the same busy gopher every morning). We'd quietly sit on a picnic table with our coffees and try not to giggle too loudly as we watched him scurry about and pop his head up through various holes surrounding the picnic tables. We didn't know what sort of important work was going on underground, but we found it all very entertaining. We weren't worried about the picnic area. We were just visiting for a few days and then returning to San Francisco.

Then some big things changed and we were suddenly starting a kitchen garden behind our new home in Point Reyes. Our happy gopher days were immediately over. We were no longer entertained by gophers. It was hard work keeping them at bay to protect our fruit, veggies, and herbs. Whenever we saw a new telltale mound of dirt or a little gopher head pop up through a hole in the yard we'd growl--grrrrrrrrr.

I could tell a similar story about the deer in West Marin. They were darling and Bambi-like until they started eating my peas and the new heliotrope plant we were told was "deer resistant". I now believe what Mostly Natives Nursery states on their website "There is no such thing as a deer proof plant. Some deer somewhere has eaten everything that we know of including poisonous plants." The deer in Point Reyes are tough. They stare you down. They have no fear.


While cleaning a head of lettuce today I stumbled upon a tiny snail, it was incredibly small, the size of a grain of jasmine rice. I stopped what I was doing and became mesmerized by this miniature creature as it moved slowly along an inner lettuce leaf. Just months ago I was at war with the snails in my yard, buying little anti-snail copper fences and dreaming up new ideas for beer traps. Today, back in San Francisco and without a yard, much further from the lush landscape that surrounded me back then, I find I've warmed up to the snails, at least to this little guy. I carefully removed the leaf, snail and all, from the lettuce head and took it outside. I gently placed the snail, atop it's giant magic carpet of a lettuce leaf, on a steep weed-covered slope behind my apartment and wished it a long and happy life.

This weekend was supposed to be a computer-free weekend, but I cheated. Without my yard and garden I sometimes spend too much time on my laptop. I'm not feeling much remorse because my cheating was rewarded with this beautiful poem found on Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast. Sometimes breaking the rules pays off. I'll follow the rules tomorrow.

Appreciating poetry, forgiving rule breaking, giving a perfectly good lettuce leaf to a snail ...see how soft I am?

A Small Dragon
by Brian Patten

I've found a small dragon in the woodshed.
Think it must have come from deep inside a forest
because it's damp and green and leaves
are still reflecting in its eyes.

I fed it on many things, tried grass,
the roots of stars, hazel-nut and dandelion,
but it stared up at me as if to say, I need
foods you can't provide.

It made a nest among the coal,
not unlike a bird's but larger,
it is out of place here
and is quite silent.

If you believed in it I would come
hurrying to your house to let you share my wonder,
but I want instead to see
if you yourself will pass this way.

spontaneous organic covert...oh my!

If you live in the Bay Area, get your booty over to Kitchenette--pronto!

Dogpatch Lunch: Tuesday 06/09

cornmeal fried cod roll chayote, kumquats, cilantro, jalapeno, garlic mayonnaise, fresh lemon…cabbage slaw $8.50

mt. tam cheese & rhubarb-ginger jam baguette walnut persillade, arugula $6.50

4505’s spicy chicharrones $3.-

hazelnut button cookies $.50

lemon verbena arnold palmer $2.-

We arrived promptly at 11:30am, just as the door was opening. As we walked along a parking area, behind a strip of loading docks, on the backside of an industrial building in the Dogpatch neighborhood, we spotted Kitchenette's sandwich board and witty greeting. Joel from Dependable Letterpress, just around the corner, had clued us in on all necessary details--hours, location, the food is excellent.

The concise menu for the day was posted on a small easel set upon a simple table just inside the loading dock. For such an unexpected location and set-up, they seemed to know exactly what they were doing--they didn't mess around. No fluff. Luckily, the Mt. Tam & rhubarb-ginger goodness on a baguette was not yet available. This made our decision easy, no pondering.

We decided on two cornmeal fried cod rolls along with a few other treats. A line was forming and the customers waiting, many of them well-heeled, looked hungry, so we ordered and got out of the way. We shared a bag of melt-in-your-mouth and perfectly seasoned chicharrones while patiently waiting on a wooden bench beside the loading dock/restaurant, sipping our lemon verbena Arnold Palmers, and enjoying the view--asphalt, abandoned buildings, chain link fence, and some nice dry weeds.

It was well worth it! They didn't waste any time. Kitchenette was all business, everything was very efficient. Our sandwiches were brought out toot-sweet. We opened our brown boxes, adorned with the name of the little covert operation stamped in red ink, to find our warm fresh sandwiches wrapped neatly in paper resting beside a small container of wonderfully light cabbage slaw--all packaging compostable.

Funny thing happened...someone from CBS channel 5 showed up and interviewed us as part of a segment on SF Bay Area "nonstaurants". Now Chris is committed to a guest post on my blog!

I wish I would have grabbed a couple of those Mt. Tam & rhubarb-ginger jam baguettes for dinner tonight. This post is making me hungry. Oh well... Thanks Joel!

4505 aptly label their chicharrones as part of our swine so fine product line.

a weekend of wavelets...

Have you ever looked at the weekend forecast and seen something like:
Wind: from NNE at 12 mph

I typically focus on temperature and sunshine versus clouds, or the possibility of rain. This morning Chris was looking up the weekend forecast and for some unknown reason I asked if it was going to be windy. He told me the forecast read that the wind was being predicted at 12 mph. I told him that I'd never investigated how a 12 mph wind might differ from a 24 mph wind or a 36 mph wind and he told me that he hadn't given it much thought either.

Then he referred to the wizard...

Chris found a website that described wind scales according to the Beaufort Wind Scale. Very interesting indeed. Our 12 mph wind was eloquently defined as follows:
Description: Gentle Breeze
Effects Land / Sea: Leaves and small twigs move, light weight flags extend. Large wavelets, crests start to break, some whitecaps.

Just a few other delightful phrases, before it gets too windy, from the Beaufort Wind Scale:
smoke will rise vertically
water is mirror-like
leaves rustle
can feel wind on your face
small trees sway
telephone wires begin to "whistle"

Enjoy your weekend.

gorgeous little things

unidentified gorgeous little thing--Block Island

My friend, Paul, is currently showing some of his drawings in the gallery space of a Mission District boutique, BellJar. Sasha Wingate, the owner of BellJar, describes her stock as a collection of gorgeous little things.

I've been thinking a lot about those words, gorgeous little things. As enticing as the descriptions grand, big, and spectacular sometimes seem, it's the little things in life that truly move me.

One of my most prized possessions is a gift Paul gave Chris and me a few years ago. He drew a small scale, simple, and peaceful image of a cozy looking pillow with a hardcover book resting upon it. An ideal gift for Chris and me--we love sleeping and we love reading. Every time I look at this sweet little drawing I smile.

gift from Paul

Gorgeous little things...

The yarn bowl I gave my mom for Mother's Day and the beauty of the way most of Be Sweet's 50 gram balls of yarn fit perfectly inside.

yarn bowl

cornichons--such darling little pickles

Miette's Parisian Macaroons, especially the Rose Geranium variety!

Caffe Trieste's caffè con panna

Tiny sprouts of any sort. I planted a pot of basil seeds recently, while visiting my father. Today he left me a voice message:
Hey Nise, Dad. What did you plant in that pot in Globe? There's all kinds of stuff coming up in there. I watered it.
Sweet little green (and red) leaves emerging from the soil make everyone happy...

beets

Moroccan tea glasses--why don't I own any of these?

Recchiuti Fleur de Sel Caramels

The tiny little frog that lived in my Point Reyes backyard. There was a stretch of time when he seemed to magically appear to greet me each time I entered the yard.

frog friend

Stella Pastry's mini biscotti--I miss the old days, when two beautiful sisters owned the bakery, but the biscotti is still good.

The matchstick sized carrots I once found tucked inside the bunch of baby carrots I purchased at the farmers market.

carrots

The cherry blossoms that bloom outside our bay window for Chris's birthday.

Small gestures like the note my niece, Mary, gave me on the train, the postcards my friend, Joen, sends me from near and far, and the phone call from Dr. McDow post-wisdom tooth extraction, not a call from his assistant, but the doc himself.

gift from little Mary

The demitasse spoon a young handsome man in Chicago stole for me after my mention of how much I adored the cute little spoons.

And the poems that say it all in just a few lines...

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

--William Carlos Williams

plums

Phoenix

New and triumphant green emerging on the resilient oregano--bravo!

The ashes (base of the plant) from which the healthy new green is emerging

I was wrong. My oregano is not dead. Like the Phoenix, it has emerged from the wreckage.

I returned from The Valley of the Sun, the Phoenix metropolitan area, yesterday evening. The heat in the Valley is intense. It holds you by the neck and makes great demands. It asks of you things you cannot give, but then you find yourself obeying, unaware of how you conjured up such strength.

Yesterday, as I ascended from the airless belly of the airport, I felt my slow shallow breaths halt as I sucked in my first sweet, full, and clean breath. I'd forgotten the beauty of the cool Bay Area air I'd left behind. I was back, and not just back, but back and better than I'd been before I left.

Today I feel strong, stable, alert, and focused. I've emerged anew.

Can we plan this sort of renewal or does it only work when it happens to us? It is a feeling of control derived from its absence. What does one do with such data?

Perhaps it is experiences such as these that embolden us to take risks, remain patient through struggle, and optimistically look for that light at the end of the tunnel--all the while, hoping to emerge with the strength and power of the Phoenix.

My 12 year old niece, Maizy
She was still in good spirits after waiting...and waiting
...and waiting in sweltering heat to hear Barack Obama
speak. People were passing out in line. It was quite crazy.
She did not complain once.

Me--Globe, AZ
This photo was taken by Chris during one of the two days we escaped
the Valley of the Sun to help my dad work on his project--what was once an
Italian brick oven bakery built during the turn of the century and what
appears to have been a boarding house for miners. Saying it needs a lot
of work is an understatement, but Dad has his vision and chips away,
bit by bit. Globe was about 10 degrees cooler than the Valley, not exactly
an escape, but a bit of relief.

The boys, Dad & Chris, at work in Globe, AZ

The graduate, my little brother, Alex (captured by his mom, Lynda)
He was the reason we visited the Valley of the Sun and the reason we were
able to see our president give an amazing speech during the ASU commencement
ceremony. Alex surrendered 5 of his 6 tickets to his family and we scored
two of those in-demand tickets. Thanks Alex!

you don't have to go to paris

This recent Mark Bittman post referencing items such as bread, salami and butter made me chuckle, but you don't have to travel to Paris to experience such unadulterated joy. It seems most people see Paris as they do bacon, in an everything is better with bacon sort of way. I wonder if the recent press Swine Flu is receiving will change this beloved perception of bacon. I hope not.

Is everything better in Paris?

I'm not so sure.

this photograph of Chris makes me chuckle too

Yesterday evening I met Chris at a wine bar (here in San Francisco, at the Ferry Plaza). We each ordered a glass of wine, shared the salumi plate, and had a nice conversation. No butter, but I couldn't have asked for better company. Who needs Paris...

a night to remember

my first homegrown strawberry in Point Reyes

It was a hot sunny day in San Francisco and this is not a place where hot sunny days come along often. I was hoping it would be one of those hot sunny days followed by a comfortably warm evening, the type I grew up with in Chicago. An evening without a light jacket is something almost unheard of around here. I really wanted to make the most of this surprise heat wave and prepare a dinner that fit the mood, something simple, beautiful, and light.

I'd been reading a lovely new book written by Molly Wizenberg, the creator of the blog Orangette, and thinking of making her bouchons au thon. I'm not sure if I was truly interested in her recipe or just charmed by her story, but decided that it didn't really matter. I forged ahead.

I rarely follow recipes, but Molly particularly noted that she always did, so I thought I'd try and practice restraint. I was almost 100% successful with the only exception being a substitute of sour cream for the crème fraîche I'd forgotten to purchase during my trip to the market.

The recipe turned out wonderfully and my only complaint is that the bottoms of the bouchons stuck to the well greased cups of my muffin tin. I'm not sure if it was my tin, if I did not use enough oil on the cups, if using butter would have made things less sticky, or if it is simply the nature of the beast. It was so minor I probably shouldn't even be referring to it as a complaint.

When Molly refers to the bouchons as odd and homely, my guess is that she does so lovingly. I think the little puffs are darling. I served the bouchons, two small puffs per person, atop a bed of ancho cress and sliced strawberries.

Ancho cress is a cress I had not yet met, before our Tuesday visit to the farmers market. If you too are unfamiliar with this cress you can see a photo of an ancho cress and scarlet runner bean salad on the Rancho Gordo site. This salad made me miss our beautiful scarlet runner bean and christmas lima bean tepees. They were really fantastic!

bean tepees we built from a type of flax growing on our neighbor's property (thanks Ruth!)

The ancho cress called out to me that day at the market. So did the pencil thin asparagus, Yerena Farms strawberries, and some small pale yellow carrots. It really was a perfect day.

The first bite into a leaf of ancho cress tricks you into thinking it is a tame green, but it is quickly followed by a peppery bite. I tamed the bite by tossing it with a light dressing of olive oil, fresh orange juice, a very small squeeze from the honey bear, and a little s&p. I decorated the top of the cress with sliced strawberries, lemon zest, and some thin shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano.

Petite plates of crisp green decorated with red, creamy white, and tiny flecks of yellow--all topped with golden puffs. A small round table for two in front of a large window on a warm night, the city humming below, and sharing it all with someone you love. A night to remember... Sigh. Smile.

bored with breakfast?

Chris relaxing on the deck (ours for the weekend)

We just spent three beautiful days on the Inverness Ridge. Our climb to the top was pretty intense, so we tried to limit our trips into town for supplies and cooked most of our meals in the house.

One morning Chris decided to make savory oatmeal. Yes, savory - no brown sugar, no cream, no raisins.

He patiently prepared 2 servings of Bob's Red Mill 100% whole grain steel cut oats. Steel cut oats are worlds away from the oatmeal most of us grew up eating. They differ in taste (better), texture (better), and preparation (l o n g e r). Steel cut oats cook for 10-20 minutes over a low heat, nothing like those cute little sweetened pouches of just add hot water instant oatmeal.

Chris topped our savory steel cut oats with diced salametto (Fra'Mani handcrafted salumi from Berkeley) found at Tomales Bay Foods, finely grated Pecorino Romano from Palace Market (the one cheese we forgot to purchase at Cowgirl Creamery - love that place!), a drizzle of McEvoy Ranch extra virgin olive oil (McEvoy is a class act, but Stonehouse is still my favorite), and he completed the dish with coarse ground black pepper.

It was fantastic! I know we will be experimenting with many variations on this theme.

Thanks Chris!

wintertime

Jen at Modern Beet recently wrote about a wintertime tomato sauce. Her post prompted me to think about the meals we have been preparing during these winter months. We have recently given up our garden and are once again living the urban life. The photograph above is of a bowl filled with my last trip to our garden. Although I am feeling a bit melancholy about leaving our garden behind, we really don't have it so bad. First of all, we are in California! Second of all, we live close to the San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers Market and we've been taking advantage of Mariquita Farm's fantastic Thursday night mystery boxes. Below you will find a laundry list of ingredients we've been combining to keep us healthy and happy during this winter season.

Greens
We tried chickweed & miner's lettuce from Marin Roots Farm for the first time this year and love both - love their greens in general!
Mariquita Farms has supplied us with all sorts of goodies! They have a great photo section on their website where you can look up a photograph and a description for almost any vegetable. Our last mystery box included items such as spigariello (leaf broccoli), smallage (soup celery), green garlic (it's partially green...), swiss chard, escarole, a variety of radicchio (i never really liked radicchio, but after trying Mariquita's, i'm a big fan), savoy cabbage (first time we tasted it - yum!), and dandelion greens.

Roots
More from Mariquita: french fingerling potatoes, carrots (a nice variety), gold turnips, parsnips, and parsley root (still need to try and cook these up).

Fruit
Our meyer lemons, cara cara oranges, blood oranges, and sun dried cherries have been from Hamada Farms. I have also purchased blood oranges in other markets. I'll try them wherever I can find them!

Preserved
Anchovies have become my secret ingredient. I buy anchovies from Italy that come in a little glass jar. I have no idea what's available locally, but I'm open to suggestions and willing to try a new type of anchovy. I use anchovies in salads, sauteed greens, pasta dishes, etc. Muir Glen makes a great canned fire roasted tomato and I use them on pasta, in chili, in soups, etc. We use Niman Ranch bacon as a condiment, a few crumbles here and a few crumbles there, and yes, it is true, bacon makes everything better!

Prep
We use all sorts of greens in simple salads (often adding toasted nuts and fruit). Sauteing greens with olive oil, garlic & s&p and combining them with polenta, pasta, Israeli couscous, or quinoa is a staple in our winter diet. I also saute greens with peanut oil, soy, and a little sesame oil. Breakfast might involve greens with scrambled eggs or the wonderful crustless quiche that Chris makes with goat cheese and vegetables (most recently green garlic and spigariello). Soups! Roasted vegetables are always good. Recently I simmered parsnips and turnips in stock and then prepared them mashed potatoes style - quite good!

When I'm really lazy I make jalepeno refried bean and whole wheat tortilla burritos.

I'm sure there's more, but that's it for now. Time to celebrate a birthday.

Happy Birthday, Chris!

some more simplicity…

Life has been busy lately and we've been keeping our meals simple. Busy or not, it's been a satisfying way to eat. Superb ingredients shine with minimal preparation.

Baby Arugula Salad
Mince 2 cloves of garlic, sprinkle with salt, and use the edge of a knife to smash into a rough paste. Place the paste in the bottom of a large wood salad bowl. Finely chop two anchovy fillets (packaged in olive oil) and add to the bowl. Drizzle some olive oil (I am currently using Stonehouse Estate Blend) into the bottom of the bowl...don’t be shy...indulge a little. Squeeze the juice of one lemon into the bowl. Add a large amount (as much as you can fit and still have room to toss the greens) of crisp clean arugula into the bowl. Toss to coat with contents in bottom of the bowl. Add salt and course ground pepper to taste, and toss again. Top with shavings of Pecorino Romano cheese and homemade croutons (I cheated and used Mollie Stone's).

Inspired by a perfectly balanced arugula salad made by my Mother-in-law during her visit to Point Reyes Station.

CHILI

i use a different combo of meat and veggies each time i make chili. here's what i did last night:

brown two mild italian sausages (casing removed) in a stock pot, crumbling w/ wooden spoon while cooking (chris did this for me). remove sausage and set aside in a bowl.

brown one large yellow onion (chopped) and about 5 cloves of garlic (rough chopped) in the sausage drippings (scraping up brown bits as the onions and garlic cook).

add carrots and bok choy (yes, this seems very odd, but i had some leftover home-grown veggies from the night before...there were probably about 4-5 small carrots sliced super-thin on a mandoline and 1 smallish bok choy chopped up thinly (leaves and all)...i had made a very simple stir fry the night before and had only added a bit of soy sauce - i was a bit worried about the soy sauce, but by the time the chili was finished cooking there was no soy sauce taste at all...so...you could add some carrots and bok choy at this point, or whatever you like - the colors, texture, and taste of the carrots and bok choy were great and i'd definitely do it again.

add one seeded and finely chopped serrano pepper.

add a 15 ounce can of great northern beans.

add a 28 ounce can of fire roasted crushed tomatoes.

add the cooked sausage.

add cumin, chipotle chili powder, cayenne pepper, salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a little brown sugar and let simmer a while. i took it easy w/ the spices thinking i could add more later after i let it all settle and let the flavors mingle together. it turned out to be spiced perfectly and i didn't have to add anything.

so that's what i did. we just finished off the pot for lunch. it's cold and rainy, so hot chili was just what the doctor ordered!

have fun making your version : )

There are beans in my attic (take 2)

OK, so you are supposed to dry shelling beans on the plant. Problem was, I wanted to pull our bean teepees down to make room for a fall planting. So about a month ago I pulled all the Scarlet Runner Beans off the vines with the intention of drying the beas for soups. I somehow thought that you dry beans like you save seed for other varieties - by shelling them and laying them out on a flat surface. It turns out, they are supposed to be dried in the pods so we had to invent a space to dry them....

Introducing the world's first bean hammock. They seem to be happy up there and are moving along quite nicely. And best of all...I have lettuce sprouts where the beans used to be.