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...

On Perfectly Buttered Toast and other things

book, window, and wine glass of water, 2009

I've been away. I've taken a solo trip to the country to regroup, refuel, recharge, and all other such res. An early birthday gift to myself (along with A Platter of Figs and other recipes by David Tanis). No telephone, no computer, no one, but me.

written earlier...
It's about 9 o'clock in the morning. I'm looking out the large paned window which takes up most of the east wall of my petite one-room cottage. The sky is white and the sun is shining. I see a small dark bird with a white belly perched upon the old white fence that protects the sheep while they graze. Although it is November, the grass is bright green and wet with dew. The West Marin landscape drinks in the rain after a long dry summer and makes autumn look like spring.

I'm nestled in with a generous slice of sweet sticky Morning Bun Coffee Cake from Bovine Bakery. When I entered the bakery, just about 15 minutes ago, I was convinced my drive into town had been a waste of time. I saw just about everything but my favorite coffee cake inside the glass case. My heart sunk. I wasn't feeling hopeful at all when I hesitantly asked ...any chance you have Morning Bun Coffee Cake back there? The owner replied with It's just come out of the oven. We're about to slice it. Music to my ears.

This slice is so large it requires a sturdy fork and knife. As I savor my first bite, sip my tea, and read David's seemingly effortless guidelines for preparing Lobster Risotto I have to pause for a moment, a long moment, and take in the utter beauty of it all. Nothing going on here is expensive or at all difficult to arrange, yet it's exquisite. It's worth planning this sort of solo time, what I've been calling my retreat. It is this uninterrupted time alone that offers me the time and space to reflect on my life and appreciate others. Which brings me back to yesterday, my first morning alone.

It was a quiet day. I watched a little black sheep nibble on grasses beneath the apple trees. KWMR hummed in the background. As I wrapped yarn around my needles to and fro, knit, purl, knit, purl, I heard Reading to John announced. Reading to John is a radio show. Neshama Franklin read to her husband John for many years before he died and now she reads to her radio audience. Such a beautiful idea, yet also so sad. An experience once shared with a loved one is now read into a microphone from The Creamery Building in downtown Point Reyes Station. Where it goes nobody knows.

I love the indulgence of having a book read to me or having someone serve me a simple meal. Why do these things feel so indulgent? Perhaps it is because I'm an adult and such offerings are typically reserved for children. John was lucky. I'm lucky.

No one can prepare perfectly buttered slices of toast like my mother. I have bitten into many fine slices of buttered toast, but Mom's, it has some indescribable quality that cannot be duplicated. I believe this is the type of feeling we all long to conjure up again, those good ol' days when we were fragile and small, served nice slices of toast, and loved unconditionally.

Chris has prepared elaborate meals for me and surprised me with interesting new ingredients, but it's those little things (those things along the lines of buttered toast) that really make me happy. There's nothing that makes me love a man more than his placing a cutting board decorated with apple and cheese slices in front of me while I'm reading a nice book on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Oh, yes. That's what I'm talking about.

Reading a book to me works well too. I recall lounging in a little cottage on Block Island, watching the sun set, as Chris read from Michael Ondaatje's Divisadero. I also have some beautiful memories of listening to Chris read John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley to me while we camped in Yosemite. There were moments in the sun, sprawled out on mats beside our tent, late nights inside our tent when Chris read with a headlamp, and one day that is so clear in my memory, Chris reading as we both relaxed and dangled our feet from a bridge near Glen Aulin Falls. The light was so beautiful that day.

Why were these moments so special? Is it because I'm in love, because Chris is such a great guy, or is it because these moments take me back to the comfortable feeling of being a child--fine toast, bedtime stories...

It was a warm summer night. Our exhausted voices pleaded One more story, Mom! Just one more! One more! Please... Mom looked down at us, dressed in our cotton nighties and tucked beneath our cool sheets as she, tired from a day filled with two rambunctious little girls, gave in and said Okay...

Once upon a time there was a butterfly.
The butterfly flew away.
The end.

morning bun coffee cake, 2009

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...

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.

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

sweet & simple cucumber recipe from mom

once i ran out and purchased the ingredients, i was able to quickly and easily prepare this recipe and mom was correct, i couldn't stop eating it - yum!

excerpt from an email from my mom:

My favorite way to eat them now is sliced into a pretty Chinese bowl with a bit of thinly sliced scallion, a tablespoon or more of rice wine vinegar (the seasoned one because it is sweet and salty), a drop or two of toasted sesame oil, a sprinkling of black and white sesame seeds, and a few grinds of black pepper. So delicious... You can't stop eating it.

cool as a cucumber

my first homegrown cucumber was cool, crisp, sweet, and oh-so-attractive (see above). this cucumber traveled a long hard road before making it to my cutting board today. at times i wasn't sure my sad little plants would ever bear fruit. the first problem was the pair of blue jays that would swoop down onto the bed and try to take the little seedlings away with them. chris and i fixed that problem with some bamboo, twine, and a little bird netting. but there were more bumps in the road...the seedlings were refusing to grow up, they were so very small for what seemed an eternity, then they looked a bit yellow, then a bit limp. i remained patient and optimistic as i watered them regularly, added some more compost around the base of the plants, and crossed my fingers. the cucumber vines are now bright green and sprawling. and today, hiding beneath some of those bright green (and prickly) leaves, i uncovered this little gem - fantasic!

when i recall the backyard vegetable garden of my childhood i think of our little cucumbers and the pickles my mom made with them. i'll definitely follow in mom's footsteps and be experimenting with some cucumber pickles of my own, but i must wait until i have more than one small cucumber. my time will come, soon i'm sure.

the cucumber is one of my favorite vegetables. it's VERY versatile, eaten in many cultures, and it tastes great without any prep - just slice and eat...done. i have always thought of the cucumber as a vegetable, but since it has an enclosed seed and develops from a flower, it is technically a fruit. as i understand, the term "vegetable" is not scientific and the usage of the word is subjective, so, for now, i'll continue to think of these green little guys as veggies.

i'll leave you with a lovely poem that i found today. it was written by a girl named Alysha. it seems there was a poetry competition and the children were asked to write a poem about a vegetable. Alysha, who must also think of the cucumber as a veggie, responded with this poem. you can read more vegetable poems writtem by children here:
poetry zone

Cool Cucumber
by Alysha Bhatti (aged 8)

Cucumber with noodles
Pizza or rice.
Even on its own
Cucumber tastes nice.

Cucumber in chutney
With yogurt and spice
Diced or grated
Or in a slice.

Cucumber with prawn
Cucumber with fish
Cucumber is the king
Of every salad dish.

Cucumber for hunger,
Cucumber for thirst
In this competition
Cucumber comes first.

beansy

have you ever seen baby beans? these are the first beans (blue lake bush beans) i've ever grown, so i have just seen my first (above). VERY cute. i have my hand in the photo for scale. these little guys are supposed to grow into 6 1/2" round pods. somehow i thought they'd be more similar to my peas (tall telephone pole peas), but not at all. i just went outside and took a look at my peas and even in the infant stage (i uncovered a small pea from within a dying blossom) the peas emerge shorter and much wider than the slender mini beans that even this tiny, are bare, they've already shed their dying blossom overcoats.

lesson learned: when the flower dries up, both pea and bean pods grow in the same place, but emerge looking quite different. i probably learned such things when i was in elementary school, but when it isn't part of daily life, so much of it floats away...

something else i've noticed while watching my peas and beans grow: the data on the seed packets i've purchased only serve as suggestions for what might occur. i planted my pole peas, beans, and snap peas on the same day. my pole peas packet suggests 70 days to harvest and my bush beans packet claims 55 days to harvest. i've been eating my pole peas off the vine for over a week now and my beans are nowhere near snack stage. my snap peas packet reads that they will grow with self supporting vines and will be ready for harvest in 58 days. last thursday they showed that they were not in the mood to be self-supporting when they fell right over. they are now happily growing around a bamboo teepee and it was just today that i saw my first snap pea blossom - no actual peas in sight. i guess the performance of our plants varies for so many reasons: soil, fertilizer, sun, shade, water, pests of all sorts, surrounding plants, love, etc. that it must be near impossible to pinpoint seed packet specifics such as what time of year to plant, days to germination, days to harvest, etc. i'm having fun watching and learning. no need for hard data. mother nature has her own ideas and i'm certainly not going to question them.

speaking of mothers, when i was a tot my mom used to call me beansy, her little beansy. truth be told, she still addresses me as her little beansy in an email every now and again, usually when i'm not feeling well or i've been let down in one way or another. maybe that's why i'm so fond of these sweet fragile little beans...

happy independence day

i started the morning by reading a book on wabi-sabi, a japanese world view on art, philosophy, design and aesthetics. (more here.) i have read a few books about wabi-sabi over the years and there is a lot in there i like, especially the embrace of the imperfect over the perfect, nature over technology. basically i dig it because it gives me an excuse for my creative ideas of precision. (see above). i would not have made a good modernist, at least not as a design-builder.



i then picked up a book about sim van der ryn, a local point reyes architect, one of the pioneers of sustainable architecture in the bay area. sim was exploring everything, i mean everything that is in vogue now. "alternative" energy, growing his own food, experimental architecture, rural living, composting, etc etc etc. it was actually pretty hilarious to learn that we (this generation) is just retreading most of the same ground of the back-to-the-land movement, but now it is too expensive here to do it they way that they did it.



i'm somehow tempted to write something about the fact that is the fourth of july - maybe write something about growing your own food being a great way of being independent. but that seems kind of annoying, even to me, and besides, that's not even what i've been thinking about today. we have a long history of independent individuals in this country - whether it is writers like kerouac or thoreau or architect/engineers like sim van der ryn - and those people have made america great. not our political parties or companies, but our individuals have been the trailblazers for the rest of us.



so as i enjoy my homemade pickled beets (thanks mary o for the inspiration) and watch my squashes blossom and tomatoes ripen - i am thankful for the strong, independent individuals in our country who have inspired me to think about living a little differently, being a bit more selfish, breaking the rules when they seem arbitrary or outdated and taking the time to write and speak about it.