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.

exposure

sometimes

the illumination is so bright
i can't see

definition defaults to flat

bare &
burned to white

yet, it remains

holding all that matters
and all i fear

all i need to see

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.

Melencolia I, 2009

Understanding Albrecht Dürer this morning...

do you bathe your blinds?

blinds in the tub

I have not yet taken a shower, but my blinds are enjoying a bubble bath. It doesn't seem fair.

The second set is about to be addressed, each and every slat, one by one. There are four sets total. Do other people do this?

If there is a better way to get blinds clean, I have not discovered it. The whole project is quite a hassle, so it does not happen very often. I procrastinate as long as possible, and then, when I cannot stand it, not for another moment, I decide--today is the day. Today is that day.

Here's what I do:
I turn on the hot water, add a little dish washing liquid, and run a few inches of water into the tub. Next I drop the blinds into the hot soapy water and let them soak. After the soaking period, I set my gardener's knee pad on the floor beside the tub to protect my knees and I drape a folded towel over the side of the tub to protect my ribs. I kneel on the pad, lean over the towel-padded side of the tub, and begin running each slat between my thumb and forefinger to remove whatever it is that accumulates on urban blinds. The blinds not only bathe in bubbles, they shower. They have to be showered to remove the soapy residue and this means I end up pretty wet too. I also have to dry them (and myself!) before hanging them back up and moving on to the next set.

It takes some time, but when I finish all four sets, an entire wall of my apartment will be sparkly white. It will feel different in here, better.

Do I sound like a stereotypical 1950s housewife? I think I do...a little bit. Uh oh. Please forgive me, Betty Friedan. I don't enjoy the process, just the result.

pirates, peach pizza, and pickles

how to start a saturday:

#1 wake up naturally, sans alarm--always a good thing!

#2 savor a Caffe Trieste cappuccino

#3 slowly stroll to the ferry building

#4 rest on an old railroad tie and nibble on a Frog Hollow petite pizza (peach, ricotta, and bacon) while watching the Jug Town Pirates do their thing

#5 go home with a mound of sweet Rainier cherries, two stems of lemon verbena (not sure what I'm doing with these yet--any suggestions?), and homemade pickle ingredients (mixed bunch of carrots, Armenian cucumbers, and a big fat beautiful red onion)

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.

strawberries for dinner

Strawberries with Buttermilk & Vanilla Sugar

Fill dessert bowl 3/4 full with cold buttermilk
Spoon in 1 - 2 teaspoons vanilla sugar
Stir
Drop halved strawberries into bowl
Eat

what is wild?

Wild? Domesticated? Cultivated? Genetically modified? Vampires? Do any of us really understand our food? Do we want to understand our food? It's a quandary...

Sometimes I grow tired of all of the data and just want to eat what looks good and tastes good, but then I hear Mr. Standage discussing his new book during an interview on NPR and I find myself being pulled back into the tangle of data defining what we eat. I cannot deny that I am, yet again, intrigued. The San Francisco Public Library has my request--I am 13/13 holds.

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

alone in the kitchen...

Are you up for a field trip? Visit Jen over at Modern Beet and see what she writes about solo dining. Enjoy!

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!

safer?

oregano post-Safer brand insect killing soap w/ seaweed extract

Safer brand seems to have successfully killed the aphids and my oregano.

there must be a better way...

Asian pear aka #685

I prefer my produce sticker-free. The problem was that we had eaten up all of the fruit we'd purchased during our last trip to the farmers market and it was only Wednesday. The farmers market is a great place for finding sticker-free fruit, but it's not open every day. The market vendors would not return until Saturday, so I decided to stop at The Real Food Company, a neighborhood market on Fillmore Street in San Francisco, to purchase a few pieces of fruit. The Asian pear I bought was delicious, but those stickers--why do they irk me so? The sticker on my Asian pear, well, it wasn't even one of the colorful little stickers with a logo, fancy font, or cute fruit drawing on it, just a drab number inked on a rectangle in faded black.

It seems I'm not the only one with strong feelings about these little stickers. I took a look around and found many individuals with thoughts on the topic.

Some were annoyed and others were extremely bothered. There were those who were fascinated, some were even inspired. One woman thought Great! Art supplies for my daughter! A 19-year-old got resourceful and found a way to recycle. One gentleman was even willing to die to get rid of the sticky little guys, but this video was probably the most interesting, creative, and definitely the most odd explanation I found for the use of the fruit sticker. In 2005 the New York Times wrote that the fruit tattoo was replacing the fruit sticker and that tattooed fruit was being sold "nationwide". This is strange because it is now 2009 and I have yet to see a tattooed piece of fruit. It seems RediRipe has some ideas too. It goes on and on.

Hmmm...so what have I learned? There is more than one way to view the fruit sticker.

Enjoy your fruit!

urban gardening part III - carrots (originally posted on 4/10/2009)

oops--i accidentally deleted this 4/10/2009 post...just bringing it back.

Friday, April 10, 2009

urban gardening part III - carrots

THEN
Point Reyes Station's Grandi Building as seen from one of the wooden picnic tables in the Point Reyes Community Garden
(one of my favorite writing spots)

I was recently perusing the latest issue of Organic Gardening when I got to the final page of the magazine, that space after all of the advertising, where they usually leave you with one last tidbit, often something fun. On this page Maria Rodale asks What's your garden fantasy? I thought about that for a while.

I do have a garden fantasy.

I indulged in my own homegrown produce for about a year while we rented a house in Point Reyes Station, CA., a sun filled house with free rein to do whatever we pleased in the giant backyard. It was amazing, truly an experience I will never forget. My mom tells me that gardening is now in my bones. I think she's right.

We walked on to a property already possessing a tree w/ three types of apples, a pear tree, three types of plum trees, raspberries, a variety or blackberry vines, and a beautiful lemon tree that I visited almost daily. To that we added so much more that I stopped counting after we realized we were growing 50some varieties of fruits and vegetables in our backyard.

Gardening is addictive, at least it was for us. I was constantly tempted by the beauty of new seedlings and the grand promises and lovely descriptions of what could soon be ours printed on alluring seed packets. We planted in raised beds of all sizes, terracotta pots, random containers donated by our neighbor, and beds that we created by digging into our weed ridden backyard soil - we even built giant bean tepees and began composting with worms.

We were surprisingly successful considering we were complete novices. We had a blast. We harvested pounds and pounds of fresh produce, arugula, shelling peas, scarlet runner beans, ozette potatoes, oca, black russian tomatoes, garlic, lemon cucumbers, green beans, yellow crookneck squash, green beans, sugar snap peas, bok choy, lettuce, scallions, leeks, herbs, and an array of carrots, just to name a few. Unfortunately we left Point Reyes before our parsnips, cauliflower, spinach, spigariello, or radicchio could mature. I hope the new tenants like vegetables!

I loved just about everything we grew, but I had a special fondness for our shelling peas and carrots. Fresh peas and carrots, picked right before eating them, well, as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't get much better than that. The peas we grew were labeled Tall Telephone Pole Peas and they were gorgeous. The blossoms were delicate and pretty and the vines, with their swirling tendrils, grew up our back fence and toward the sky like something out of a fairytale. My carrots, St. Valery, New Kuroda, Scarlet Nantes, Purple Haze, and Oxheart (I still might be forgetting a few), were some of the easiest and most forgiving vegetables we grew. They were also delicious and we ate them in salads, pickled, steamed, sauteed, and just plain old scrubbed and out of hand. I never even knew so many varieties of carrots existed.

NOW
our kitchen table as seen from one of our kitchen chairs in our San Francisco apartment
(another one of my favorite writing spots)

It is now spring again, about one year after we began our first garden together. We are living in a small apartment atop Russian Hill in San Francisco, CA. Our outdoor space consists of a few inches of down sloping window sill per window, and some of those windows are painted shut. Nothing makes one long for their garden more than spring. Our local community gardens are jam-packed and we've been told that it could take years before they reach our names on their waiting lists. Here's where the carrots come in (literally).

I bought a large terracotta pot, soaked some New Kuroda (my favorite) carrot seeds overnight, filled my pot with a combination of potting soil and worm castings, and buried my seeds. Then I crossed my fingers and waited. Lo and behold, I didn't count the days, but the seeds seemed to sprout up much faster than the seeds I planted outside in Point Reyes. One night, much sooner than I anticipated, my husband spotted them and showed them to me. I was ecstatic!

When I am home during the time of day when our apartment catches some sun, I move the terracotta pot between my bay window and kitchen window to allow it as much sunlight as possible. The tiny sprouts all lean toward the sun and when I move the pot I rotate it so their backs are to the sun. Sure enough, the next time I take a peek, they've all repositioned themselves and are leaning toward the sun again. They are an indulgent bunch.

So, while here atop Russian Hill, I've adjusted my expectations. My fantasy is a small one. I'd like to see those 9 little sprouts become fully formed delicious carrots. That's all. Is it possible? I really don't know.

Some, my husband for instance, have much loftier ideas when it comes to garden fantasies. He's convinced we can somehow trellis pole peas in our bay window. He wants to bring those fairytale vines and tendrils indoors. I'm not so sure about this plan, but I like his high hopes. Perhaps I'll be reporting on peas next.

The herbs and succulents are also doing well and we've recently added a tillandsia (air plant) to the mix.

the aphids are coming! the aphids are coming!

oregano with tiny aphid on stem

i never used anything to remove insects from plants in our outdoor garden. i let the good and bad insects fight their own battles. obviously, i didn't plan on using anything on my indoor plants, but i'm not really sure what else to do.

bottom line--i don't want to share my apartment with aphids and little flies (i believe they are "whiteflies"). the gravel is not keeping the flies away (my herb gardener was wrong) and i fear they are multiplying, plus i've spotted aphids.

i searched around the web and did some reading and it seems Safer brand insecticidal soap is used by organic gardeners for such situations. i bought some yesterday and am giving it a try, but i'll be honest, it's making me lose my buzz for eating these home grown herbs. the product claims it is safe on fruits an vegetables, but will i be able to completely remove this stuff before i add my freshly snipped herbs to to a recipe?

i'm feeling a bit bummed and defeated. i really want to make this work. sigh.

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...

urban gardening part IV - air & water

Tilly

Have you ever seen one of these? This is a Tillandsia, often referred to as an air plant, or Tilly. I added one to my bay window garden a while back and although it requires a bit more maintenance than an herb, succulent, or pot of carrots, caring for it has been an interesting experience and it seems to be enjoying the environment here.

The photograph above shows the plant being watered. There's no use for a watering can when a Tilly needs a drink, and by the way, this drinking is something they need to do very often, which makes the name "air" plant seem odd. Anyway...watering this plant means fully submerging it inside a bowl of water for at least an hour. I'd never heard of such a thing. There are rumors that you can just mist them every so often with a spray bottle, but that doesn't seem like a good idea to me. Even after a one hour+ soak, the Tilly is pretty dried out before the week is up. The submersion method works for both of us, so why mess with it. I skip the misting.

When we purchased our Tilly from Flora Grubb Gardens it had a big bloom emerging from the center of the plant and watering was a bit complicated because the bloom was not supposed to be submerged with the rest of the plant. Now the bloom is gone and I just place the entire plant in a full bowl of water for about an hour, once per week, shake off any excess water, let it dry completely, and then place it back on its pedestal in the window.

Tillys don't need any soil because water and nutrients are absorbed through their leaves. I suppose this is the explanation for this "air" plant business, but I believe something like "octopus" plant would be much more appropriate.

I don't think this plant really cares what it is called. It's the carefree type. With no soil to hold it down, the Tilly just rests quietly upon its pedestal and sunbathes all day. No hat or sunscreen required. And then there's that weekly dip in the pool... What a life.

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.

urban gardening part I - succulents UPDATE

Fort Mason succulent
gift from Mary Anne

Well well well...look what I found upon arriving home this evening. It appears this one flowers!

I'm not sure if the flowering is a good or bad thing. I know it's exactly what you don't want your arugula, chard, lettuce, and the like to do, but I'm not so sure about succulents.

It is also shooting up a bit which might mean that it needs more sun. Unfortunately, I am already giving it all of the sun this apartment is set up to allow. Hopefully it will adjust.

For now, I'll just think optimistically and enjoy the view.

urban gardening part III - carrots UPDATE

goodbye cotyledons(s)... hello true leaves!

The carrots are progressing.

Eight sets of true leaves have appeared. I had one original seed (1/9) that did not germinate, so I planted a new seed to fill in the empty space. The newbie has now sprouted!

It is 9:30am and the sun is shining brightly.

So far so good.

you mustn't cook!

making homemade tamales @ Dad's

I just finished reading the short story,
The Cottagette by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
(EDIT>FIND>'The Cottagette' until you see the full text of the story...)

Ms. Perkins Gilman always had such an interesting perspective on the topics she explored in her writing.

I love my time in the kitchen, but after reading this story I can't help but wonder, what would my life be like if I didn't cook?

Hmmm...

excerpt:
We were off in ten minutes, light-footed and happy, and the day was all that could be asked. He brought a perfect lunch, too, and had made it all himself. I confess it tasted better to me than my own cooking; but perhaps that was the climb.
When we were nearly down we stopped by a spring on a broad ledge, and supped, making tea as he liked to do out-of-doors. We saw the round sun setting at one end of a world view, and the round moon rising at the other; calmly shining each on each.
And then he asked me to be his wife.--
We were very happy.
"But there's a condition!" said he all at once, sitting up straight and looking very fierce. "You mustn't cook!"

The Obama's are gardening!

they've planted all sorts of good stuff, shelling peas, fennel, carrots, kale, even hyssop (i had to look that one up!).

check it out here!

take a look at the garden layout and some photos here...

urban gardening part II - herbs

herbs-in-waiting

My herbs are waiting for me to throw some pots for them and track down some gravel to cover the soil. I was told the little flies that hover around potted herbs will go away if I cover the soil in a thin layer of gravel. I've only spotted one of these little flies so far, but I better find some gravel before more decide to come to the party. For now, my herbs will remain topless and in their plastic containers. They have moved from the kitchen table to the bay window and are sunbathing for as many hours per day as possible.

tags:
ROSEMARY 'Barbeque'
So-called because the stems are long and hard, perfect for bbq skewers.
Full sun, low water when established, DEER PROOF.*
*I learned while in Point Reyes that one cannot guarantee that any plant is DEER PROOF.
WINTER SAVORY (Satureja montana)
Shrubby perennial herb used for flavoring, like sage.
Full sun, moderate water. To 1ft. tall, pretty flowers too!
THYME 'Big Leaf'
Vigorous, great tasting thyme to 1' x 1'.
Good in pots. Full sun, reg. water.
OREGANO-ITALIAN MILD
Selection from Franchi Sementi of Italy.
Milder Italian Oregano, very versatile! Perennial, full sun, great in pots.
BASIL (simply labeled 'Live Basil')

I made a mistake in my last post, 4 pots of herbs were bought from one gentleman and 1 pot from another. The basil was the 1 pot from another and it started slumping over and looking unhappy almost immediately (within hours of purchase!). Even the stems started turning brown. I decided to just pull all of the still perky leaves from the plant, made a neat chiffonade, and sprinkled it atop our dinner of pasta with fresh English peas and grated Parmigiano Reggiano. We were not disappointed.

Finally, the last item on the table is a vase of bright yellow Ranunculus (Persian Buttercups).
wikipedia says:
The term sardonic (sardanios), "bitter or scornful laughter", is often cited as deriving from the name of the Sardinian plant Ranunculus sardous, known as either σαρδάνη (sardanē) or σαρδόνιον (sardonion). When eaten, it would cause the eater's face to contort in a look resembling scorn (generally followed by death). It might also be related to σαίρω (sairō) "I grin".
and they look so sweet and innocent...

carrots coming soon!

urban gardening part I - succulents

a gift from joen

a gift from mary anne and an orphan succulent

Wikipedia tells us:
Succulent plants, also known as succulents or fat plants...Succulent plants store water...The storage of water often gives succulent plants a more swollen or fleshy appearance than other plants, also known as
succulence.

We are slowly but surely making our transition back to urban life and as the sun begins to shine again and the spring season comes our way, we are finding that some changes require more effort than others. One such change is transitioning from living with a large outdoor space to our apartment with zero outdoor space, not even a fire escape. We were spoiled with our giant backyard and patio in Point Reyes. We aren't greedy people, not at all, we don't need all of that yard space here in the city, but a tiny little corner...just a little ledge where we could arrange some soil and sprout something green would be nice. For now, this is not an option, we are committed to making our current living situation work. We were determined to find a solution for making our outdoor space transition run a bit more smoothly, one that would make us happy. We didn't give up, we kept thinking.

Envisioning a garden in our bay window required a complete shift in mindset. It's not really outdoor, but the windows are large and they do let a lot of light into the space. I've read about the viability of gardening in city dwellings on small patios and on roof decks, but in a window...hmmm...would it be possible?

So I decided to start with some hardy and friendly looking succulents. While in Point Reyes, we grew our fair share of fruit, vegetables, and a few native wildflowers and such, but we've never owned a succulent. I perused a few books at the library for advice and checked one out to take home with me and help me get started. It's been about a month, and the succulents have been very well behaved and look beautiful. Recently I added a cutting from Mary Anne's succulent area at the Fort Mason Community Garden and just this week I added a cutting from Joen's gorgeous selection of succulents happily soaking up the sun on her back porch (gifts pictured above). The new cuttings seem to be adapting well.

Today we purchased 5 pots of herbs from a very nice gentleman at the farmers market. More on the herbs soon...stay tuned.

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!