So I didn't get that marketing-writing gig at Whole Foods that I was hoping for. The up side? I don't have spend my days trying to promote
organic spray-on pancake batter. But the can's recyclable, yo.
Today's joy—the incredibly beautiful weather, strip-off-your-parka warm (at least in the Mission) and cloudless blue sky. I got to the top of Dolores Park and decided it was ice cream weather, and Bi-Rite Creamery obliged by having not just its usual highfalutin' flavors (salted caramel, roasted banana, orange-cardamom) but ROCKY ROAD, made with chocolate chips, almonds, and minimarshmallows, $1.95 for a single scoop that's more than enough to set you up on a happy choccy high for a few hours. Next visit, it will be a mandarin-orange popsicle stained with blood-orange segments.
And mark your calendars: on Saturday, Feb. 2nd, I'll be doing a cooking demo as part of the "Market to Table" program at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market. Yippee! The big question: which apron to wear? The orange-and-pink retro flowers from K's mom? The reversible Parisian pin-up print from Susie? The demure French-maid white lacy vintage one? It's the market's Citrus Festival, so whatever I make will be featuring citrus prominently. Clementines! Meyer Lemons! Satsumas! Blood oranges! Oh, after those icy days selling sauerkraut and celeriac in Union Square, the mind reels.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Happylemonland
O frabjous day! Calloo, callay!
Yep, I'm back on the best coast, settling in and doing exactly what I did back in August of 1990, when I first moved to San Francisco fresh out of college.
Which would be, of course, buying a warm blanket, since just like in nearly every apartment I've lived in here, the heater only warms two rooms, neither of which is my bedroom. But it's lovely to be back, and wonderful to be living in Bernal Heights. More soon, but for now, yippee!
Yep, I'm back on the best coast, settling in and doing exactly what I did back in August of 1990, when I first moved to San Francisco fresh out of college.
Which would be, of course, buying a warm blanket, since just like in nearly every apartment I've lived in here, the heater only warms two rooms, neither of which is my bedroom. But it's lovely to be back, and wonderful to be living in Bernal Heights. More soon, but for now, yippee!
Friday, January 04, 2008
roll, roulade, roll
Happy New Year! It's January 2008, cold as, well, a cold thing, which means hello, Florida! Yep, we're packing up and waving bye-bye to Park Slope on Monday. A week in lovely central Florida--Orlando, Vero Beach, Jacksonville--to follow. And then, K. heads off to more officer training and I go to my new temporary digs in Bernal Heights, home of the Liberty Cafe's apple pie, my dear pal Jen of Manic D Press, and Wild Side West, where the mullets roam free. Yep, I'm ditching the snow and slush and ever-escalating metrocards for happy lemontreeland, at least through mid-May. Joy, oh joy.
But first, lunch with B. at the Bar@Etats-Unis, another day pushing cookies and sauerkraut at the Hawthorne Valley Farm stand at Union Square, dins with the newly-married E. in Manhattan, and celebratory wedding brunch in Pennsylvania for my oldest friend Bea on Sunday. And did I mention packing? So it's going to be takeout and restaurant food for the next few days. But I will post the highly sucessful NYE raspberry roll-up cake, or as we like to call it here at the castle, la rouuuuu-laaaahde.
But first, lunch with B. at the Bar@Etats-Unis, another day pushing cookies and sauerkraut at the Hawthorne Valley Farm stand at Union Square, dins with the newly-married E. in Manhattan, and celebratory wedding brunch in Pennsylvania for my oldest friend Bea on Sunday. And did I mention packing? So it's going to be takeout and restaurant food for the next few days. But I will post the highly sucessful NYE raspberry roll-up cake, or as we like to call it here at the castle, la rouuuuu-laaaahde.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
South by West
Happy day-after-Boxing Day! Hope you had a wonderful Christmas time, as the song goes. Used a nifty Zipcar to go up the PQM's house, where my aunts and uncle were gathered for the usual family hilarity. I went toting 2 kinds of biscotti (the zuni cafe cookbook's cornmeal-and-almond jobs, made sans anise and avec orange and lemon zest, and some quite fabulous double-chocolate-and-pistachio ones from last December's issue of Food & Wine, the one where I modeled for Julie Powell's holiday-party story but ended up figuring only as a headless torso holding a plate of pork and salad) and multiple jars of strawberry jam, apple butter, and green-tomato relish from the farm jam kitchen. And came back with about 2 dozen pairs of socks, a plate of christmas cookies (summarily dispatched with K. to spread the cheer among the soldiers in her Nat'l Guard unit), and lots of yummy Clarins face creams to make me smell French and expensive.
Spent Christmas Eve with B. and his new wife and her family,eating wine-soaked cassoulet and playing scrabble. A new invention, though, for the non-meat eaters: pomegranate squash. A butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cubed, roasted with olive oil and salt, then tossed with carmelized onion, some good glugs of pomegranate molasses, and a handful of fresh pomegranate seeds. Can be served warm or room temp, quite delicious all around and very festive looking.
Then, post-xmas, much lying around on the couch in my new flannel pjs, printed with crossword puzzles! no actual clues, alas, but plenty of the familiar black-and-white squares. Park Slope being as cozy and bougie as it is, these are the best selling item at our local lingerie boutique.
But soon, we'll be departing from NYC--first for a week in sunny 70-degree Florida, then back to California! While K. goes for more training, I'll be returning to the BEST coast, to live in Bernal just a stone's throw from the Liberty Cafe (home of the best chicken-pot-pie and apple turnovers in the city), ready to bask in the meyer-lemon-ness of it all. Yippee!
Until then, come say hi to moi, your sauerkraut girl, at the Hawthorne Valley Farm stand on Saturdays at the Union Square Greenmarket from 8am to 6pm.
Double Chocolate Pistachio Biscotti
2 cups flour
3/4 cup cocoa
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups brown sugar
4 tablespoons soft butter
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp almond extract
1 TB strong coffee
3 eggs
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup chopped pistachio nuts
Whisk flour, cocoa, soda, and salt together (sift if cocoa seems very lumpy). Set aside. Cream brown sugar and butter together in a large bowl. Beat in extracts and coffee. Beat in eggs one at a time, then stir in cocoa mixture. Stir in chips and nuts. Form into 2 long, flattish logs on a nonstick or lightly greased baking sheet. Bake for 20-25 min at 375 degrees F. Remove from oven and let cool. Slice into thin cookies on the diagonal and place cut sides down on the baking sheet. Bake slowly at 250 degrees F for 20 minutes or so, until firm and crunchy. Let cool, then store in a tightly covered container.
Spent Christmas Eve with B. and his new wife and her family,eating wine-soaked cassoulet and playing scrabble. A new invention, though, for the non-meat eaters: pomegranate squash. A butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cubed, roasted with olive oil and salt, then tossed with carmelized onion, some good glugs of pomegranate molasses, and a handful of fresh pomegranate seeds. Can be served warm or room temp, quite delicious all around and very festive looking.
Then, post-xmas, much lying around on the couch in my new flannel pjs, printed with crossword puzzles! no actual clues, alas, but plenty of the familiar black-and-white squares. Park Slope being as cozy and bougie as it is, these are the best selling item at our local lingerie boutique.
But soon, we'll be departing from NYC--first for a week in sunny 70-degree Florida, then back to California! While K. goes for more training, I'll be returning to the BEST coast, to live in Bernal just a stone's throw from the Liberty Cafe (home of the best chicken-pot-pie and apple turnovers in the city), ready to bask in the meyer-lemon-ness of it all. Yippee!
Until then, come say hi to moi, your sauerkraut girl, at the Hawthorne Valley Farm stand on Saturdays at the Union Square Greenmarket from 8am to 6pm.
Double Chocolate Pistachio Biscotti
2 cups flour
3/4 cup cocoa
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups brown sugar
4 tablespoons soft butter
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp almond extract
1 TB strong coffee
3 eggs
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup chopped pistachio nuts
Whisk flour, cocoa, soda, and salt together (sift if cocoa seems very lumpy). Set aside. Cream brown sugar and butter together in a large bowl. Beat in extracts and coffee. Beat in eggs one at a time, then stir in cocoa mixture. Stir in chips and nuts. Form into 2 long, flattish logs on a nonstick or lightly greased baking sheet. Bake for 20-25 min at 375 degrees F. Remove from oven and let cool. Slice into thin cookies on the diagonal and place cut sides down on the baking sheet. Bake slowly at 250 degrees F for 20 minutes or so, until firm and crunchy. Let cool, then store in a tightly covered container.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Union Square Hello
Brrr! Baby, it's cold outside. Thank heaven for the long, lovely clawfoot tub in our temporary digs in Park Slope...And speaking of chilly, I'm working the all-day shift at the Hawthorne Valley Farm stand at the Union Square Greenmarket tomorrow, Saturday. Stop by and say hello!
We'll have loads of organic breads, cookies, rolls, and sweet treats, plus pasture-raised beef and pork, organic cheeses, and fabulous lacto-fermented sauerkrauts, including my favorite, ginger-carrot. And biodynamic mache and celeraic, too.
We're on the left side, near the far northwest corner of the park, more or less kitty-corner from Coffee Shop. The farm itself, a complex comprising a livestock operation, dairy, vegetable farm, and bakery, is located about 130 miles north of the city, in Columbia County. The whole place is both certified organic and biodynamic. More about the farm here-- they also have groovy-sounding internships, school programs, and farm-camp programs.
We'll have loads of organic breads, cookies, rolls, and sweet treats, plus pasture-raised beef and pork, organic cheeses, and fabulous lacto-fermented sauerkrauts, including my favorite, ginger-carrot. And biodynamic mache and celeraic, too.
We're on the left side, near the far northwest corner of the park, more or less kitty-corner from Coffee Shop. The farm itself, a complex comprising a livestock operation, dairy, vegetable farm, and bakery, is located about 130 miles north of the city, in Columbia County. The whole place is both certified organic and biodynamic. More about the farm here-- they also have groovy-sounding internships, school programs, and farm-camp programs.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Stop the Insanity!
Step...away...from...the icing....(Poor Mr. Bill and his candy cane, stuck to the wall with lightning bolts of icing excitement.)
Book Nerd had a birthday brunch/holiday decorating party. Blame the champagne mojitos at Park Slope Frenchy bistro Moutarde (on Fifth Ave and Carroll), but a small posse of bookish types ended up in the BN kitchen, making bourbon balls and Christmas/Chanukkah cookies, and assembling and decorating this little gingerbread house. OK, let's be honest: I contributed nothing useful to the bourbon ball/cookie endeavor, except for licking the chocolate bowl and cutting out a few dreidel shapes.
But the gingerbread house--oh, the joy! What soul can't be satisfied by a plastic pastry bag oozing royal icing and a bottle of glitter sprinkles? Left to my own devices, I would have buried in the whole house in a snowy avalanche of icing swags. More icing! More!! Luckily, though, BN eventually wrestled the bag away from me, a good thing.
This was a bit of a cheater's house, because the gingerbread pieces came already pre-baked and pre-cut, so all we had to do was stick them together and then get onto the fun part. Theinstructions on the kit said ridiculous things, like that you have to wait 4 hours between sticking on the roof and decorating the house. Made from meringue powder, water and tons of confectioners' sugar, the icing set nearly immediately into impenetrable cement, so we got on with the peppermint and gumdrop action ASAP.
You can also roll the icing into little balls and create a turban-wearing Sikh snowman, if you're so inclined. Next year, a satellite dish on the roof!
Truly, though, fun (and hot buttered rum) was had by all.
Music for Gingerbreading:
"Back Door Santa," Clarence Carter
"Do the Funky Penguin," Rufus Thomas
"Baby It's Cold Outside," Ann Margret
"Santa Baby," Eartha Kitt
"Santa's Back in Town," Elvis Presley
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Winter wonderland
Snow! Number #7 on the Good Things for the Holidays list arrived this morning. As I was standing around in the kitchen, filling the coffee pot and wondering why it was so cold in there, I glanced out the (partially open) kitchen window to see...SNOW! on the fire escape, frosting the trees, sifting down over the backyards outside. It's grey and quiet out there, and December has officially begun.
More later on Bakerina's lovely surprise party, Julie's smashing walnut torte, a long walk through the city with K., and working at the Hawthorne Valley farm stand at the Union Square Greenmarket...all that and more, soon. Why not now? Because half my head is still throbbing with the migraine that will not retreat, now in day #2. but soon, hopefully, I'll be back, with much to report, in snowboots!
More later on Bakerina's lovely surprise party, Julie's smashing walnut torte, a long walk through the city with K., and working at the Hawthorne Valley farm stand at the Union Square Greenmarket...all that and more, soon. Why not now? Because half my head is still throbbing with the migraine that will not retreat, now in day #2. but soon, hopefully, I'll be back, with much to report, in snowboots!
Monday, November 26, 2007
nutcracker sweets
7 Good Things for the Holidays:
1. Bahlsen's Contessa cookies. Candied orange, ginger spice, almond perfume, chocolate. With a cup of cinnamon-orange Christmas tea, late winter afternoon perfection.
2. Free (if you bring your own skates) ice skating to Glenn Miller swing at the seasonal ice rink in Bryant Park.
3. June Taylor's English Christmas cake. Bring me this luscious brandied fruitcake for Hanukkah, along with a tea table in front of a fireplace so as to enjoy it in the appropriate setting. And perhaps a maid wearing this to serve it.
4. Latkes, latkes, latkes. With sour cream and applesauce, borscht and rye bread and raisin pumpernickel from Orwasser's to make them a meal.
5. Roast chestnuts on the street. Hot-pretzel vendors used to add these to their wares in the winter, sending a distinctive smoky-sweet aroma into the chilly air. You paid a couple of bucks and you got a little paper bag shoveled full of warm roasted chestnuts, their skins half peeled back so you could get into the hot, mealy-sweet nuts without having to take off your gloves. In Bologna, it was common to find little old men roasting chestnuts over drums of coals in any public square during December. Lately, though, they've been all but replaced by those noxious sugary nuts. We're going to look hard on our way to the Bergdorf's windows, though.
6. Clementines.
7. Snow.
1. Bahlsen's Contessa cookies. Candied orange, ginger spice, almond perfume, chocolate. With a cup of cinnamon-orange Christmas tea, late winter afternoon perfection.
2. Free (if you bring your own skates) ice skating to Glenn Miller swing at the seasonal ice rink in Bryant Park.
3. June Taylor's English Christmas cake. Bring me this luscious brandied fruitcake for Hanukkah, along with a tea table in front of a fireplace so as to enjoy it in the appropriate setting. And perhaps a maid wearing this to serve it.
4. Latkes, latkes, latkes. With sour cream and applesauce, borscht and rye bread and raisin pumpernickel from Orwasser's to make them a meal.
5. Roast chestnuts on the street. Hot-pretzel vendors used to add these to their wares in the winter, sending a distinctive smoky-sweet aroma into the chilly air. You paid a couple of bucks and you got a little paper bag shoveled full of warm roasted chestnuts, their skins half peeled back so you could get into the hot, mealy-sweet nuts without having to take off your gloves. In Bologna, it was common to find little old men roasting chestnuts over drums of coals in any public square during December. Lately, though, they've been all but replaced by those noxious sugary nuts. We're going to look hard on our way to the Bergdorf's windows, though.
6. Clementines.
7. Snow.
post-pie posting
Some pie queen I am, going AWOL right in the midst of prime pie season. Well, I hope you all enjoyed your desserts nonetheless, and no one resorted to those nasty crumbly frozen shells.
K. and I left NYC behind and jetblued it down to Florida for t-day with her many relatives. Luckily my suitcase was searched on the way back, not on the way down, since what would TSA have made of the open container of Flying Pigs Farm rendered leaf lard I was carrying, not to mention the bag of cranberries, the packets of Knox gelatin, the two foil-wrapped cranberry breads and the 5 lbs of New York State Northern Spy and Winesap apples from NettieOchs Orchards. Yes, I was on apple-pie duty, and I brought my own lard and apples, plus fresh cranberries and unflavored gelatin for the very tasty and PQ-traditional cranberry-walnut pie.
Florida was warm and humid and full of Spanish moss hanging from the oak trees. Driving home with the pie and turkey leftovers sliding around in the back of the car, the neighborhood was already in full plastic-snowman display, complete with flying Santas, inflatable chimneys, and yes, those nodding-head reindeer. It was still a little weird to hear "Winter Wonderland" piped out onto the sidewalk as ladies in sparkly flip-flops and skinny-strap tank tops walked by with their fluffy little bug-eyed dogs. On Saturday, since the Zora Neale Hurston museum was closed, we took a canoe down the spring-fed Wikiva river, to wave at the swimming turtles and a great blue heron.
***
And to Crate & Barrel, this season's Unclear on the Concept/Capitalist Chutzpah Award, for this fine item, a Christmas-tree ornament in the shape of...a dreidel! In the catalog, it's pictured alongside a handful of six-pointed star ornaments, also in blue and silver, which look awfully like Stars of David. Both of which, last time I checked, were, you know, pretty Jewy. You can't blame C & B for trying to make a buck off assimiliation, but somehow, I don't think this is the way towards mixed-marriage harmony in decorating.
***
Everything Bee Movie says about bees is wrong. Especially the part about the pollen guns! Romance and Cigarettes, however, is hot.
K. and I left NYC behind and jetblued it down to Florida for t-day with her many relatives. Luckily my suitcase was searched on the way back, not on the way down, since what would TSA have made of the open container of Flying Pigs Farm rendered leaf lard I was carrying, not to mention the bag of cranberries, the packets of Knox gelatin, the two foil-wrapped cranberry breads and the 5 lbs of New York State Northern Spy and Winesap apples from NettieOchs Orchards. Yes, I was on apple-pie duty, and I brought my own lard and apples, plus fresh cranberries and unflavored gelatin for the very tasty and PQ-traditional cranberry-walnut pie.
Florida was warm and humid and full of Spanish moss hanging from the oak trees. Driving home with the pie and turkey leftovers sliding around in the back of the car, the neighborhood was already in full plastic-snowman display, complete with flying Santas, inflatable chimneys, and yes, those nodding-head reindeer. It was still a little weird to hear "Winter Wonderland" piped out onto the sidewalk as ladies in sparkly flip-flops and skinny-strap tank tops walked by with their fluffy little bug-eyed dogs. On Saturday, since the Zora Neale Hurston museum was closed, we took a canoe down the spring-fed Wikiva river, to wave at the swimming turtles and a great blue heron.
***
And to Crate & Barrel, this season's Unclear on the Concept/Capitalist Chutzpah Award, for this fine item, a Christmas-tree ornament in the shape of...a dreidel! In the catalog, it's pictured alongside a handful of six-pointed star ornaments, also in blue and silver, which look awfully like Stars of David. Both of which, last time I checked, were, you know, pretty Jewy. You can't blame C & B for trying to make a buck off assimiliation, but somehow, I don't think this is the way towards mixed-marriage harmony in decorating.
***
Everything Bee Movie says about bees is wrong. Especially the part about the pollen guns! Romance and Cigarettes, however, is hot.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Vegetables aren't free
It's weird to be living back inside. On one hand, a big clawfoot bathtub instead of a single grubby shower shared with 40+ people (and the occasional raccoon): very good! On the other: vegetables cost money! No more ripe figs and avocados straight off the trees, or big boxes of organic Early Girl tomatoes and fancy fingerling potatoes begging to be eaten up. It was sad to go to the Grand Army Plaza farmers market--a place I've always liked--and fight the crowds for carrots and brussels sprouts. The produce had no soul, somehow, even though I did come home with some pretty good apples and my new favorite squash, the sunshine kambocha, which really does taste like chicken--or at least the tasty drippings that puddle around a chicken while it's roasting in the oven. And speaking of something in the oven, Flying Pigs Farm is still selling their fabulous lard at the market, $6 for 8 oz., and mighty tasty pie crust it made. Check out their amazingly good sausage, too, while you're there.
I know I was terribly remiss in blogging about the farm, so here's a little taste of tent living, and the reasons behind it, written for this otherwise
annoyingly smug publication.
What else is up? Taste of the season: organic pumpkin ice cream (served in biodegradable paper cups!) at Boerum Hill's new Blue Marble ice cream shop, where they even have organic sprinkles on your organic cone. Someone out in the blogosphere compared them to ball bearings, though (the sprinkles, not the ice cream), so watch your fillings.
I know I was terribly remiss in blogging about the farm, so here's a little taste of tent living, and the reasons behind it, written for this otherwise
annoyingly smug publication.
What else is up? Taste of the season: organic pumpkin ice cream (served in biodegradable paper cups!) at Boerum Hill's new Blue Marble ice cream shop, where they even have organic sprinkles on your organic cone. Someone out in the blogosphere compared them to ball bearings, though (the sprinkles, not the ice cream), so watch your fillings.
Friday, October 26, 2007
October Morn
It's a beautiful autumn morning in Portland, and I'm in the happy, artsy ladyland known as Alberta. Very exciting to be surrounded by golden autumn leaves again, with a nip in the air and yes, accordian music drifting down the street. Accordians are very popular in Portland, it seems, along with Stumptown coffee and groovy woolly hats. Off to Tin Shed (breakfast) or Random Order (coffee and big pies!) and more, in the company of Emma the bat-eared dog.
More soon about graduation (yes, I am the proud recipient of a Certificate in Ecological Horticulture, thank you very much) and the crazy, completely unexpected and amazing surprise birthday party, aka Operation 40 Candles. And that, thanks to K's unflagging persistence in the face of the many flakezoids of Craigslist, we now have a place to hang our hats, just a hop, skip, and a jump from Al di la and Brooklyn Fish Camp.
More soon about graduation (yes, I am the proud recipient of a Certificate in Ecological Horticulture, thank you very much) and the crazy, completely unexpected and amazing surprise birthday party, aka Operation 40 Candles. And that, thanks to K's unflagging persistence in the face of the many flakezoids of Craigslist, we now have a place to hang our hats, just a hop, skip, and a jump from Al di la and Brooklyn Fish Camp.
Ridin' that train
Oh, I'm sleepy! To no one's surprise, the train up to Portland is running an hour or so behind schedule, so I'm camped out in the waiting room of the Emeryville station, a large ,clean but dull place. During the daytime there's a nice little Peet's coffee station, but in the evening, it's nothing but rows of grey molded chairs and across the room, a bunch of vending machines. I'm crouched in a corner next to the industrial-sized fan that I've unplugged so as to power up my laptop. For a little while there was a random wireless connection floating around, but just as I was about to check my pal Shuna's blog for all her good Portland recommendations and musings, the connection got sucked back into the ether. So I'll have to wait. Don't think trains can have the wi-fi, though.
I am D-O-N-E, done, with all this travel and stumping around in the cruel shoes all over the city to get from here to there, dragging my life in suitcases around with me. It's time to settle back down in a real house of my/our own. I want an address, my own coffee cup, my own bag of decaf on the shelf. I've woken up on a lot of other people's couches and guest beds over this last six months, and I'm really done with this peripatetic life. The most rooted I've felt was that 2 weeks where I was house-sitting on Olive St, with the record player and the purring kitties, the apple tree, the quilts, the familiar books and my own civilized dinner parties, with cloth napkins and roast chicken and cake plates. Apple gingerbread , lard-crust apple pie, mmm.
Pig salad! That was the best thing I had today. It came from San Francisco's South Park Café: Frisee lathered up in a pungent mustard-and-horseradish dressing, layered with sliced apples, and then tossed with crunchy-chewy deliciouso pork chunks. If carnitas ever craved a salad, this would be it.
Other good things: banana-chocolate-chip and pear-and-fig muffins from the bakery-café behind Liberty Café, in Bernal Heights. And a bite off Jen's orange-spice Dove dark chocolate bar, pretty darn good, in that cinnamon-spicy-orangey way, like Jacques Torres' Wicked Hot Chocolate with a shot of Grand Marnier.
Ah, le train est arrive! Off to ride the rails...
I am D-O-N-E, done, with all this travel and stumping around in the cruel shoes all over the city to get from here to there, dragging my life in suitcases around with me. It's time to settle back down in a real house of my/our own. I want an address, my own coffee cup, my own bag of decaf on the shelf. I've woken up on a lot of other people's couches and guest beds over this last six months, and I'm really done with this peripatetic life. The most rooted I've felt was that 2 weeks where I was house-sitting on Olive St, with the record player and the purring kitties, the apple tree, the quilts, the familiar books and my own civilized dinner parties, with cloth napkins and roast chicken and cake plates. Apple gingerbread , lard-crust apple pie, mmm.
Pig salad! That was the best thing I had today. It came from San Francisco's South Park Café: Frisee lathered up in a pungent mustard-and-horseradish dressing, layered with sliced apples, and then tossed with crunchy-chewy deliciouso pork chunks. If carnitas ever craved a salad, this would be it.
Other good things: banana-chocolate-chip and pear-and-fig muffins from the bakery-café behind Liberty Café, in Bernal Heights. And a bite off Jen's orange-spice Dove dark chocolate bar, pretty darn good, in that cinnamon-spicy-orangey way, like Jacques Torres' Wicked Hot Chocolate with a shot of Grand Marnier.
Ah, le train est arrive! Off to ride the rails...
Thursday, September 27, 2007
In search of Laurie Colwin's Corn Relish Recipe
Ok, faithful readers, I need your help! I know someone out there has Laurie Colwin's books, Home Cooking and More Home Cooking. Could someone, anyone, post or email me the recipe for the Blue Ribbon Corn Relish? Here on the farm with corn and peppers, longing to preserve, but I don't have my books with me. Many thanks, and I'll even send you a jar if you want one....
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Chard Lovin' Mama
A new blog, from a real farm wife. Chard Girl is the nom de blog of Julia of Mariquita Farms, a fantastic organic farm in Watsonville. They have a website (see the links list at right) and a CSA under the moniker Two Small Farms.
Right now, she's talking elderberry pie, made by chef James Ormsby, late of Bruno's, PlumpJack, and numerous other very good places. I've picked wild mushrooms with him, and eaten his incredible backyard spit-roasted pork, and I can attest that anything he cooks is something you'll be very happy to put in your mouth. So I'm considering that elderberry pie, since we've got piles of shiny eggplant-purple elderberries ripe for the asking here. And I am on 'snack duty' for the garden crew these week...
Elsewhere in the farm-to-table adventures, my little kitchen-garden plot yielded half a dozen very groovy Suyo Long cucumbers, now languishing as four jars of bread-and-butter pickles (two of the cukes were too huge to pickle; the cooks made them into something vaguely Chinese for breakfast instead.) Very, very simple, and people who like this kind of pickle really love these, especially with a burger or a grilled cheese sandwich. If you're not getting all locavore-ish by using your own garden cukes, nice little Kirby (also called pickling) cukes are your best option, since they don't have the wet seedy middles of your average cuke. This recipe came from a back issue of Simple Cooking, John Thorne's excellent food newsletter.
Bread & Butter Pickles
[makes 4 pint jars]
6 cups pickling (Kirby) cucumbers, sliced
1 red onion, peeled
1 green pepper
1/4 cup fine sea salt
2 cups dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon tumeric
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 tablespoon whole mustard seed
1/2 teaspoon celery seed (optional)
1 teaspoon ground hot red chile pepper
2 or 3 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups cider vinegar
4 pint-sized glass canning jars, with two-part tops (rings and lids)
Wash the cucumbers but do not peel. Cut off the ends, and then slice cukes into thick slices. Peel the onion and chop into bite-sized chunks. Seed, core, and shred the green pepper. Toss all these with the salt in a nonreactive bowl (glass, enamel, ceramic, stainless steel, NOT aluminum), cover, and let stand 3 hours.
Meanwhile, put 4 pint canning jars (without rings or lids) into a large, deep pot. Fill with water to cover by at least an inch or so. Bring pot to a boil and let simmer for 10-15 minutes to sterilize the jars. Turn off the heat, drop in metal rings and leave jars in the hot water while you prepare the pickles.
Drain cukes thoroughly in a colander, rinsing well with cold water, and set aside. Put all the syrup ingredients to a large pot, bring to a boil, and cook, boiling, for 5 minutes. Then mix in the pickle ingredients. Bring the syrup back up to just below a boil, stirring occasionally.
Pack into the pint preserving jars, leaving 1/4-inch of space at the top of the jar. Wipe jar rim with a paper towel dipped in hot water. Using tongs, dip each flat lid into the hot water from the jars’ boiling. Then place lid over jar and screw on metal ring until it is finger-tight.
Replace sealed jars in pot of hot water (you may need to bail out some excess water from the pot.) Bring pot back to a boil and process jars for an additional 10 minutes. This is not a crucial step but helps ensure a good seal.
After processing, remove jars from hot water with tongs and set on a towel or cooling rack. Do not move until completely cooled. When jar is cool, test seal by pressing down on the middle of the lid. If it pops up and down, it didn’t seal properly; it’s safe to eat but must be stored in the fridge like an opened jar. Jars that have sealed can be kept in a cool dry place for up to a year. Pickles are best if you let the jars sit for a few days before eating.
Right now, she's talking elderberry pie, made by chef James Ormsby, late of Bruno's, PlumpJack, and numerous other very good places. I've picked wild mushrooms with him, and eaten his incredible backyard spit-roasted pork, and I can attest that anything he cooks is something you'll be very happy to put in your mouth. So I'm considering that elderberry pie, since we've got piles of shiny eggplant-purple elderberries ripe for the asking here. And I am on 'snack duty' for the garden crew these week...
Elsewhere in the farm-to-table adventures, my little kitchen-garden plot yielded half a dozen very groovy Suyo Long cucumbers, now languishing as four jars of bread-and-butter pickles (two of the cukes were too huge to pickle; the cooks made them into something vaguely Chinese for breakfast instead.) Very, very simple, and people who like this kind of pickle really love these, especially with a burger or a grilled cheese sandwich. If you're not getting all locavore-ish by using your own garden cukes, nice little Kirby (also called pickling) cukes are your best option, since they don't have the wet seedy middles of your average cuke. This recipe came from a back issue of Simple Cooking, John Thorne's excellent food newsletter.
Bread & Butter Pickles
[makes 4 pint jars]
6 cups pickling (Kirby) cucumbers, sliced
1 red onion, peeled
1 green pepper
1/4 cup fine sea salt
2 cups dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon tumeric
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 tablespoon whole mustard seed
1/2 teaspoon celery seed (optional)
1 teaspoon ground hot red chile pepper
2 or 3 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups cider vinegar
4 pint-sized glass canning jars, with two-part tops (rings and lids)
Wash the cucumbers but do not peel. Cut off the ends, and then slice cukes into thick slices. Peel the onion and chop into bite-sized chunks. Seed, core, and shred the green pepper. Toss all these with the salt in a nonreactive bowl (glass, enamel, ceramic, stainless steel, NOT aluminum), cover, and let stand 3 hours.
Meanwhile, put 4 pint canning jars (without rings or lids) into a large, deep pot. Fill with water to cover by at least an inch or so. Bring pot to a boil and let simmer for 10-15 minutes to sterilize the jars. Turn off the heat, drop in metal rings and leave jars in the hot water while you prepare the pickles.
Drain cukes thoroughly in a colander, rinsing well with cold water, and set aside. Put all the syrup ingredients to a large pot, bring to a boil, and cook, boiling, for 5 minutes. Then mix in the pickle ingredients. Bring the syrup back up to just below a boil, stirring occasionally.
Pack into the pint preserving jars, leaving 1/4-inch of space at the top of the jar. Wipe jar rim with a paper towel dipped in hot water. Using tongs, dip each flat lid into the hot water from the jars’ boiling. Then place lid over jar and screw on metal ring until it is finger-tight.
Replace sealed jars in pot of hot water (you may need to bail out some excess water from the pot.) Bring pot back to a boil and process jars for an additional 10 minutes. This is not a crucial step but helps ensure a good seal.
After processing, remove jars from hot water with tongs and set on a towel or cooling rack. Do not move until completely cooled. When jar is cool, test seal by pressing down on the middle of the lid. If it pops up and down, it didn’t seal properly; it’s safe to eat but must be stored in the fridge like an opened jar. Jars that have sealed can be kept in a cool dry place for up to a year. Pickles are best if you let the jars sit for a few days before eating.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Cause that's how we roll
It's just me and Oscar the dog, housesitting this weekend--aka sleeping and showering INSIDE, doing laundry without the long walk with a duffle on my back, watering the tomatoes, drinking pink wine left over from the wedding, teaching Lanette to knit, and wallowing in farm vegetables, which are in high summer abundance right now--peppers, zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes and tomatillos, potatoes, basil, beans and more. Much canning to be done--dill beans, corn relish, bread and butter pickles from the cukes growing my little kitchen garden patch, plum jam, pear butter...
But this morning I'm on the biscuit production line for brunch with Catherine and her visiting Dallas family. Making a really fluffy biscuit is life-long quest of mine, so wish me visitation from the Southern biscuit angels. Thinking of making half plain, half pepped up with grated cheese and minced rosemary, a particularly felictous combination.
Music to Roll By:
"Hollywood", Collective Soul
"Rehab", Amy Winehouse
"Don't You Fall", Be Good Tanyas
But this morning I'm on the biscuit production line for brunch with Catherine and her visiting Dallas family. Making a really fluffy biscuit is life-long quest of mine, so wish me visitation from the Southern biscuit angels. Thinking of making half plain, half pepped up with grated cheese and minced rosemary, a particularly felictous combination.
Music to Roll By:
"Hollywood", Collective Soul
"Rehab", Amy Winehouse
"Don't You Fall", Be Good Tanyas
Monday, July 30, 2007
Wedding Bread
Christina and Sally got married! At long (12+ years) last, these two hotties have finally tied the knot in public, with white roses, Bellinis, and Billy Idol's "White Wedding" as the recessional..
It was a lovely, lovely Northern California day under the oak trees in San Rafael, clear and sunny with a long, long view over the undulating lion-colored hills. Everyone dressed up and drank champagne dolloped with honey and peach puree, the peaches picked by PQ herself the day before on the farm. Lots of organic farm produce made it up to the wedding, for platters of roasted summer squash, baby potatoes, cippoline onions, carrots, and red peppers, and crudites of cucumbers, green beans, broccoli, and even more peppers and carrots. There were beautiful dips galore made by Susie and Heather, and ravishing plates of leg of lamb. Being on the veggie bean-mush farm diet has turned me into a raging carnivore--how much of that lamb I packed away all on my very own, I wouldn't like to say. Shar made the special love-juju hummingbird cupcakes and peaches-and-cream cake, Sally's old pals Tess, Reggie, and Carol dressed up in sequins and lip-synched and danced for Christina, and both the Lucys (ages 4 and 10) had a bang-up time.
Love was in the air, and if only K. had been there, all would have been perfect. But she's on her way to California soon--just a week! And she'll be here, ready to be wined and dined and relaxed among the redwoods, far from the chiggers and poison ivy. And I'll be off the farm, which, lovely as it is, one really needs to get a break from every so often, back into the land of non-shared everything and soft clean inside beds.
Part of their ceremony was a ritual sharing of bread and honey. The honey came from a black-lava beach where they did their own private wedding ceremony last year; the bread I was honored to make that morning. So we call it a
Sweet Wedding Moon Bread for a Feast of Love
1 cube fresh yeast, or 1 packet dried (fresh is nicer, if you can find it in the refrigerated section of your market--it's often on a little shelf near the butter and yogurt)
1 1/2 cups tepid water
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup olive oil or soft butter
2 cups unbleached white bread flour (with more as needed to make a soft dough)
1 tbsp salt
2 1/2 cups whole wheat bread flour
Add-ins:
chopped pecans, diced dried figs, golden raisins, pumpkin seeds
1. Dissolve yeast in tepid water, and let stand 5 minutes.
2. Stir in honey, olive oil, and 2 cups white flour. Sprinkle on salt and whole wheat flour.
3. Stir in additional white flour to make a soft dough. Knead well for 10-12 minutes, until smooth and springy.
4. Let rise to double in bulk. Punch down, knead briefly, and pat into a flat rectangle. Sprinkle on nuts and dried fruit, folding the dough over and kneading gently to incorporate. Shape as desired. I made this into a flat oval, then made diagonal cuts in the middle of each side to make a fougasse shape. But you could also make a regular loaf, or a foccacia-type flatbread.
5. Let rise 30-40 minutes.
6 Bake at 400F until nice and golden brown. Let cool to warmish, then eat with butter and honey.
It was a lovely, lovely Northern California day under the oak trees in San Rafael, clear and sunny with a long, long view over the undulating lion-colored hills. Everyone dressed up and drank champagne dolloped with honey and peach puree, the peaches picked by PQ herself the day before on the farm. Lots of organic farm produce made it up to the wedding, for platters of roasted summer squash, baby potatoes, cippoline onions, carrots, and red peppers, and crudites of cucumbers, green beans, broccoli, and even more peppers and carrots. There were beautiful dips galore made by Susie and Heather, and ravishing plates of leg of lamb. Being on the veggie bean-mush farm diet has turned me into a raging carnivore--how much of that lamb I packed away all on my very own, I wouldn't like to say. Shar made the special love-juju hummingbird cupcakes and peaches-and-cream cake, Sally's old pals Tess, Reggie, and Carol dressed up in sequins and lip-synched and danced for Christina, and both the Lucys (ages 4 and 10) had a bang-up time.
Love was in the air, and if only K. had been there, all would have been perfect. But she's on her way to California soon--just a week! And she'll be here, ready to be wined and dined and relaxed among the redwoods, far from the chiggers and poison ivy. And I'll be off the farm, which, lovely as it is, one really needs to get a break from every so often, back into the land of non-shared everything and soft clean inside beds.
Part of their ceremony was a ritual sharing of bread and honey. The honey came from a black-lava beach where they did their own private wedding ceremony last year; the bread I was honored to make that morning. So we call it a
Sweet Wedding Moon Bread for a Feast of Love
1 cube fresh yeast, or 1 packet dried (fresh is nicer, if you can find it in the refrigerated section of your market--it's often on a little shelf near the butter and yogurt)
1 1/2 cups tepid water
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup olive oil or soft butter
2 cups unbleached white bread flour (with more as needed to make a soft dough)
1 tbsp salt
2 1/2 cups whole wheat bread flour
Add-ins:
chopped pecans, diced dried figs, golden raisins, pumpkin seeds
1. Dissolve yeast in tepid water, and let stand 5 minutes.
2. Stir in honey, olive oil, and 2 cups white flour. Sprinkle on salt and whole wheat flour.
3. Stir in additional white flour to make a soft dough. Knead well for 10-12 minutes, until smooth and springy.
4. Let rise to double in bulk. Punch down, knead briefly, and pat into a flat rectangle. Sprinkle on nuts and dried fruit, folding the dough over and kneading gently to incorporate. Shape as desired. I made this into a flat oval, then made diagonal cuts in the middle of each side to make a fougasse shape. But you could also make a regular loaf, or a foccacia-type flatbread.
5. Let rise 30-40 minutes.
6 Bake at 400F until nice and golden brown. Let cool to warmish, then eat with butter and honey.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Farm Fashion, Part 1
Friday was Farm in a Skirt Day, no exceptions, and everyone did it, even the farmboys from Texas and Arkansas. On Wednesday, a couple of the guys hit the thrift stores, and by Thursday breakfast a row of skirts was hanging from the ceiling with a note, "Skirts $4, boys take priority." I didn't have a regular skirt that I wanted to get farm-dirty, so instead I dug out this sparkly hippie caftan, property of the late PQ grand-mere. Note the belt, holding both my pruning shears and harvest knife, and yes, capri pants underneath, so I could tuck the ground-sweeping skirt up into my belt without wowing my fellow farmies with the sight of my undies.
Putting everyone in a skirt made the day just terribly festive, somehow. And nearly all the dudes commented on how free they felt. Okay, actually they talked about their balls, but we're about the pies here.
And yes, as mentioned earlier, apricot galettes were made in the up-garden chalet kitchen. Quite simple, really--2 1/2 cups flour, a tablespoon of sugar, a tsp of salt, 2 sticks (8 oz) butter, ice water with a splash of cider vinegar, mixed and cut in and tossed together the usual way. Then up the ladder to pick a bowl of sun-freckled little apriums, pitted and tossed with sugar, a little cornstarch, a pinch of nutmeg and allspice. I remembered too late that you have to roll out the dough and put it onto the baking pan before you start piling in the fruit. Thus getting the fruit-heavy, tippy thing off the counter without tearing wasn't easy, requiring an offset spatula and some muttered pirate-worthy language.
So roll your dough into a rough circle, slap it onto a baking sheet, then pile up your nicely sugared fruit. Lap the edges of the dough up over the filling, leaving an open space in the middle to show off the color. Bake at 375 or 400 degrees until the fruit is softened and giving up juice and the pastry is deep golden. Let cool as long you can stand; it's best warm rather than boiling hot.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday is Galette Day
It's a perfect beach day in Santa Cruz. Maybe you can imagine me there, laying on the warm sand with the sparkly blue water and sea gulls edging up the sand to eye my lunch. Or put me next to a swimming hole surrounded by shady redwoods, or under a tree anywhere, watching the fine clouds etch lace over the high blue.
Whatever you do, don't put me where I have to be, sitting next to a concrete pillar in an atrium adjacent to the library, typing away. For well-paying work, so I shan't complain, although that sunshine does look mighty pretty, and there's a moonlight hike I'm going to be skipping too, for the sake of a job to do. But at some point tomorrow, the Green Zebra tomatoes and sweet Thai basil will get planted in my freshly-dug bed in the kitchen garden--a rough little plot behind the kitchen where we can have our own private plots. I didn't even mind heaving a wheelbarrow full of compost all the way from 'compost row' this morning--not usually my favorite job, but it's amazing what a little private ownership can do to one's incentive. Living here has made me appreciate many things, and having my own space is one of them.
The 'up', or Chadwick, garden, where I'm working for the next six weeks, is a maze of fruit trees and organic roses, with beds of lettuce, onions, and many many peppers squeezed in higgledy-piggledy wherever there's room. Passing the heavy-bearing aprium trees every morning on my way to the greenhouses, I resolved to use the little farm kitchen for a spot of galette-making come Friday. And it worked: during our two-hour break from noon to 2pm, I whipped up a batch of dough, picked a bowl of not-quite-ripe but tasty fruit, assembled two galettes and got them in and out of the oven. They were gone too quickly for photos, but recipe to follow...
Whatever you do, don't put me where I have to be, sitting next to a concrete pillar in an atrium adjacent to the library, typing away. For well-paying work, so I shan't complain, although that sunshine does look mighty pretty, and there's a moonlight hike I'm going to be skipping too, for the sake of a job to do. But at some point tomorrow, the Green Zebra tomatoes and sweet Thai basil will get planted in my freshly-dug bed in the kitchen garden--a rough little plot behind the kitchen where we can have our own private plots. I didn't even mind heaving a wheelbarrow full of compost all the way from 'compost row' this morning--not usually my favorite job, but it's amazing what a little private ownership can do to one's incentive. Living here has made me appreciate many things, and having my own space is one of them.
The 'up', or Chadwick, garden, where I'm working for the next six weeks, is a maze of fruit trees and organic roses, with beds of lettuce, onions, and many many peppers squeezed in higgledy-piggledy wherever there's room. Passing the heavy-bearing aprium trees every morning on my way to the greenhouses, I resolved to use the little farm kitchen for a spot of galette-making come Friday. And it worked: during our two-hour break from noon to 2pm, I whipped up a batch of dough, picked a bowl of not-quite-ripe but tasty fruit, assembled two galettes and got them in and out of the oven. They were gone too quickly for photos, but recipe to follow...
Thursday, May 17, 2007
pies for a birthday
When the fruit is ripe
I will bake you pies all year long,
apple
strawberry
peach
and
lemon meringue
Happy birthday, K.
I will bake you pies all year long,
apple
strawberry
peach
and
lemon meringue
Happy birthday, K.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
On the Farm
All last year, I used to log onto the "daily farm photo" over on Farm Girl Fare and feel wistful. Now every morning I'm walking through a new day on the farm--fog over the ocean, sun on the strawberries, spider webs strung through the kiwis. This is the sign leading to the back farm entrance as well as to a university housing complex known as The Village. But I love this sign; it always makes me think that the road will lead to a Bruegel scene with haystacks, thatched roofs,and women with little caps and long aprons.
This is part of the main field, where I'll be learning irrigation for the next 3 weeks. Lots of greens growing here, plus flowers, beets, carrots, cauliflower, and garlic.
The plum orchard, with a huge fruit set that we've been diligently thinning.
And did I mention that the farm's open to the public daily from 8am to 6pm? Or that we'll holding a fund-raising strawberry shortcake festival, made with organic berries harvested right here, on Wednesday, May 23rd, from 3 to 6pm? I'll be the one in the pink hat and pink-striped apron, handing out bowls of cream and strawberries.
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