The SuperTaster

(belated) tales of christmas frenzy

2010-01-09T21:19:00.000-08:00

My schoolwork released its grip upon me with a few days to spare before my South-bound departure. Of course, I rather missed the vague squeeze of panic that follows me all term, so I decided to embark on a baking mission. Due to financial and time constraints, I found myself, on the 10th of December, very short on Christmas presents, with many lovely, deserving friends and family members on the gifting radar.

Thankfully, I already had a number of contenders ready to go.

There they are on the right: quince, fig, cardamom & orange, peach butter, and Sicilian tomato jams.

The spicy, rich tomato jam had been the original inspiration for my baking venture. I imagined it spread on some cheese biscotti with a glass of red wine, and forthwith I had found a recipe for parmesan, black pepper biscotti.

But first I had to make some sesame cookies to use up that tahini.
It was really cold that week -- about ten degrees outside, I think. So cold that my kitchen got all steamed up, in fact!

A satisfying mess was soon underway.

They were really good. I consumed a very decent representative sample. In a flash of inspiration, I had decided to add a big pinch of kosher salt -- it was a perfect surprise crunch.

These sesame cookies made excellent spur-of-the-moment presents. I always like to feel as prepared as possible in December!

I then moved on to the expected star of my Christmas Baking Episode of 2009.

I had pinched an abandoned jar of saffron from the cabinet of my old house on Howard St. in San Francisco, which inspired my idea: saffron, orange, almond biscotti.

I felt quite festive getting everything going in my KitchenAid.

Making biscotti is wonderful because it's just so easy. The dough is smooth and satisfying to shape (use wet hands); first you add the dry ingredients to the wet, then shape the very sticky dough into loggish shapes on the baking sheet.

The texture is improved by a quick chill.

Followed by baking (duh).

Then you must wait for the logs to cool (or the cookies will be dangerously crumbly) before slicing and baking again.

Bis = twice, cotti = cooked, in case you were wondering. It seems I have no pictures of the final product. Probably because I was so excited about moving on to #2: parmesan black pepper biscotti, to go with that garnet-colored spicy tomato jam.

Another good mess was very soon underway.

The mixer really got a workout!

It's very sticky stuff.

Plenty of parmesan and butter in there. Of which evidence was most apparent after baking.

After the second baking, I wrapped up both kinds of biscotti in neurotic little bundles, and carefully labeled them (using my favorite media: fine-tip sharpie on neon green painter's tape "for hard-to-stick surfaces"). Ready to go out by mail and suitcase!

Plenty more cookie frenzy to come, after relocation to Vermont via San Francisco.

Surprise Appearance!

2009-11-01T08:00:00.000-08:00

This morning I had the pleasure of finding myself the center of attention at Rancho Gordo! If you haven't tried these beans yet, get thee to the Ferry Building Market next Saturday and blow 5 bucks on em (and say hi to Jesse down there; he's taken over my Saturday bean-slinging duties) -- they are superlative. You can also order them online. I am now bound to eat only these beans for the rest of my natural life; they are that good!

r.e.: comments

2009-09-20T21:25:00.001-07:00

Much to my dismay, most of my dear readers' comments have mysteriously disappeared. I guess blogger is hungry, too. Sorry!

I did it!

2009-09-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

So, remember way back when, on the 26th of August, 2008, when I professed an interest in canning, of jams in particular? Well, over a year later, I have finally tried my hand at this miraculous art, and my results were very good indeed. And I can assure you that now I want to do nothing but make more and more jam! Lucky you at Christmastimes to come.

My original inspiration was the unbelievably fecund fig tree growing just outside my new home. I harvest the figs every few days, and my last haul was over seven pounds!

The figs are delicious, purple and dusty green on the outside, vibrant magenta on the inside...

Aren't they beautiful?

...but there's a limit to the quantity of fresh figs even a fruit lover like myself can consume. So I bit the bullet and got a ride to the hardware store, where I picked up some jars and a few other necessary tools. Not too expensive, I was pleased!

Time to get started!

I adapted this recipe for cinnamon-fig jam; after some reflection on the natural homeland of this fruit, I decided to add a cardamom pod and a splash of rosewater, plus some extra lemon. I quadrupled the recipe.

After assembling my materials, I began by cutting the damn things into quarters... it took a while.

I then sent the figs to meet their fate in the big pot, along with a daunting quantity of sugar, some lemon juice and zest, cinnamon and cardamom, and water. The fig stew was soon boiling very well.

I stirred it fairly often over a period of nearly two hours, I think.

Interlude:Time for a snack!

Mmmmm, ants on a log.

Back to work; time to wash and sterilize the jars and lids.

I just put them in a 225 degree oven immediately after washing very well. I also boiled some water to pour over the lids when the time came. The internet had assured me that the hot-water process sealing method was unnecessary for jams, so I skipped it. I felt some trepidation, but my stove is too small to fit another big pot, and I felt secure that everything was well-sterilized.

When the mixture passed the "wrinkle test" (meaning that a dab of it stays in place on a freezer-chilled plate and wrinkles at the touch of a fingertip), it was time to wrangle it into the prepared jars. I poured the hot water over my lids and got ready to go for it.

There we go; no problem at all!

I was quite surprised at how simple the entire process was, really. Carefully following sterilization instructions was the most meticulous aspect, and really it was nothing difficult or time consuming. As I surveyed the products of my labors and began to clean up the sticky kitchen, I heard the jars beginning to "pop" -- that's when the vacuum seal between lid and jar is achieved, which can take up to 24 hours. The seal makes a satisfying little plinky noise, which I must say really made me smile with pride.

I will surely be making more fig jam later this week, as the tree shows no signs of slowing production, but I was so thrilled by the experience that I made two more batches yesterday. I know, what an overachiever!

With projects in mind, I had gotten a good deal on three lbs of tomatoes and one and a half pounds of "cosmetically-challenged" peaches at the farmer's market that morning. I decided to make Sicilian tomato jam (I basically used this recipe, with regular-sized, quartered brandywine tomatoes, and about 3/4 cup sugar) and spicy peach butter (I mostly followed this recipe, but I puréed the peach mixture with my new immersion blender -- thanks, Mum!-- and used a little less sugar).

I roasted both fruits first, because, well, why not? and they weren't quite at the pinnacle of ripeness. I sort of did the two recipes simultaneously, but I got the peaches going first because I expected it to take longer to achieve the right consistency.

Actually, both mixtures cooked for a long time, about an hour fifteen for the peaches, and two hours for the tomatoes. Their color was really impressive, and the mixture sort of glowed as it began to thicken up.

We've almost got a match, here!

I think the peaches could even have gone a bit longer, the texture is a little loose. Oh well, I was tired of stirring!

The results were vibrant.

I am pleased with the flavor, the peach is very spicy. I sort of forgot that the flavor would intensify as the fruit cooks down. I'm attributing it to my impressive foresight; it'll really be a blast of summertime in the middle of winter. Hopefully I can keep my hands off those little jars until then!

I've been keeping myself busy with all kinds of little kitchen projects as I wait for school to start (orientation begins tomorrow!). I've made vegetable stock, baked Alice Waters' oatmeal currant cookies, made several kinds of iced tea and hot concoctions, had a day of fresh juices, and mixed up some sourdough starter (I think it'll be ready tomorrow -- I can't wait to sample my jams on some hot, fresh sourdough rye bread), among other things. But this project was truly rewarding, and I will definitely be making as much jam as possible while the farmer's market and my fig tree are still being generous.

Goodbye, San Francisco!

2009-09-05T10:30:00.000-07:00

On the 26th of August, Jesse and I packed up the final dregs of my stuff into my friend's brand-new Honda Accord (thanks, Jeff!). Jesse's packing skills were a lifesaver once again, though unfortunately I had to leave my two biggest plants to be transported at a later date. This is the biggest one, his name is George (he's like three times as big now):

and that's Sancho the most beautiful pit bull ever in front. Someday maybe he will be my own, we'll see!

Goodbye, San Francisco!

Since Tahoe is pretty much my favorite place in America, we decided to spend a few days there "on the way" to Eugene. Actually, it's not on the way at all... it's about 3.5 hours from SF to Tahoe, and 9+ hours from Tahoe to Eugene, the same as from SF. But it was worth it! We stopped at Berkeley Bowl after leaving San Francisco, I will certainly take any excuse to visit that magical place. We got pretty well stocked up, I did a decent job restraining myself. The supplies we got lasted nearly the whole time we were in Tahoe. I am getting better at staying on budget as far as food is concerned -- certainly my greatest expense.

Anyway, the drive went very smoothly and we arrived in a timely fashion. We had picked up some Vietnamese sandwiches on Larkin St. before leaving the city, which sustained us nicely throughout the trip. By the time we arrived, we really weren't very hungry, so I think we just had some snacks before bed.

The eating was really very good on this trip. I did most of the cooking, which was ok with me! There was so much lovely summer produce (which I brought from the city, pickings are generally rather slim at the Sav Mart up in the mountains). I really loaded up on my last Saturday at the farmer's market, and supplemented by my haul at Berkeley Bowl, we were well stocked. Jesse began our first day by making a much-needed shelter on the front porch.

It gets so hot out there! The sun is really strong, and the air is thin, so everything looks extra clear, like a Kodak ad or something. I love it! We decided to lunch under the awning, and Jesse made us some really spectacular sandwiches. As I have noted before, grilled cheese is one of his specialties, and these certainly did not disappoint!

These sandwiches were on sourdough bread, with dijon mustard, Australian cheddar cheese and black forest ham. I made a salad with watermelon, basil and cucumber, and we supplemented with one of my weaknesses -- BBQ chips. Yum, MSG! the sandwich was perfect -- buttery and crisp on the grilled side, soft and melty within. So good, in fact, that it deserves a close-up:

The accompanying pickles are from Happy Girl farms at the Ferry Building farmer's market, and they are truly delicious. If you ever find yourself down there at the market, go around back and find their stall. They sell a variety of pickled things; my favorites are the spicy carrots, bread and butter pickles, and spicy heirloom tomato juice. So good! Then we did basically nothing for the rest of the day, as it should be.

We decided that my birthday would be best celebrated over a period of several days, so Thursday night's dinner was just as celebratory as Friday's (my real birthday). I had made some pizza dough before we left SF, and I planned to grill some pizzas (my new favorite thing -- so easy and SO good!). Unfortunately the dough was a little hard to work with, I suspect because it had been stored for a few days, and then I let it get too warm while I was preparing the toppings. Jesse got the grill ready while I shaped the dough, and then I prepared the toppings. One pizza was to be topped with feta, tomatoes, basil and olives; the other with smoked mozzarella, basil, and Berkeley Bowl's divine roasted tomatoes. Here are my preparations:

I also sautéed some chard with garlic and made a salad to go on the side. Jesse alerted me that the grill was at its optimal state for pizza-cooking, and... the dough was completely stuck to the wax paper! I had a minor breakdown and pulled despairingly at the sticky clumps adhering strongly to the wax paper. What went wrong? Did I shape it too thinly? Let it sit out too long on the counter? Does the wax paper just suck? In any case, I made a frantic decision to ball all the dough I could separate from the paper together and reshape it into one larger, slightly thicker pizza. I decided to top it half and half, and it actually worked out pretty well. I threw the extra toppings on the salad and raced outside with the dough.

To grill pizza, you have to cook one side, turn it over, top it, and get it back on the grill to do the bottom and warm the toppings. The grill must be very hot, though if flames are coming up above the grate the dough will be burnt very quickly (I think that it tastes good a little burnt, but this may not be a universal opinion). as it cooks a little and unsticks from the grate, turn the dough with tongs or fingers so it cooks evenly and doesn't burn too much. It is done when it bubbles and is firm and... looks done, I guess. It all happens very quickly, so you have to pay close attention! I threw the dough on the grill, and very soon it was time to flip and top. Here I am in action:

By the way, I do recommend scheduling grilled pizza so you're not out there in the dark. that makes it a lot harder!

Despite my panic at unforeseen developments with the dough, it turned out really well. I had used my friend Elizabeth's dough, which combines rye flour with all purpose flour, and I added a little whole wheat flour too. It's a fantastic dough and very easy indeed. There's not really enough time on the grill for the cheese to get really melty, so if you care you could blast it in a very hot oven for a few minutes. I don't care much, though, and we were quite ready to eat.
It was delicious, and felt very festive!

Jesse gave me one of my birthday presents after dinner. Here it is:

It is a gorgeous little espresso maker, the likes of which I have never seen before. The metal plate at the bottom goes over the burner, and the demitasse cups rest on it. There is a double spout under that snout, and the espresso simply runs out directly into the cups! I love it!

We had a simple, decadent dessert of stroopwaffel cookies (dutch honey/maple filled waffle cookies -- very expensive but buttery and very sweet and so worth it!), espresson, and mascarpone.

Yum!

The next day, Friday the 28th, was my birthday. I made us waffles for breakfast, some of them with mashed banana mixed in the batter. Boy, were they good!

We had them with chopped pecans, fruit, and of course maple syrup. I have had my waffle iron since I was about 11, and it really does the job well. I love waffles!
After breakfast I opened my presents, which really blew my mind in their cohesive theme and beauty of selection and presentation. Jesse will likely have more to tell you on that at some later date.

After the festivities were wrapped up (or unwrapped, rather), I went to pick up Jeff at the Reno airport, and for the rest of the day we once again did mostly nothing until dinnertime. I prepared another festive dinner, making use of both our excessive produce and the summertime desire to grill everything. We grilled some summer squash and broccoli (I had never grilled broccoli before, and it was so good! The little florets got crisp, and the smoke heightened the broccoli's earthiness), and I put the vegetables on garlic-parsley pasta with some perfect Andante Dairy fresh goat cheese, some ubiquitous summer basil, and some caramelized onion and fennel.

I also made a salad with these lovely heirloom tomatoes, olive oil, balsamic, and basil.

The finished product:

Once again, we had a very festive dinner, and I felt very well fed and well fêted for my birthday. So far, being twenty nine is a real treat!

The next day we had to go get more supplies, as more friends had arrived. Jesse spotted these in the cooler with the normal eggs at the Sav Mart:

Yes, those are six hard-boiled eggs in a bag for 2.99. Now I have really seen everything.

We decided to make burgers that night, after a fantastically relaxing day at the beach. We mixed some spicy chicken sausage with the beef, and made some nice fat cheeseburgers, served with more grilled squash, caramelized onions with mushrooms, and the usual toppings.

In our hungry excitement they came out a little underdone, but we all ate them anyway, with little to no hesitation. I am happy to report that no one got sick, and they tasted quite good! Nothing else to report there.

By Sunday the food selection was getting a little slim. Somehow I ended up having an all-orange lunch:

-- a beautiful heirloom tomato sandwich, with orange slices and violently orange BBQ chips. It is my favorite color, after all!

That night I had planned to use up the rest of the food in sort of Japanese fashion, making miso soup with mushrooms, Hodo soybeanery fresh tofu, and pea shoots, accompanied by sesame soba noodles with avocado and cucumber. But we got a call from my cousin Adam, who is on an epic 8000 mile motorcycle trip, including a leg up and down the West Coast and a stop at Burning Man. What an intrepid traveler! Anyway, the poor man was famished after surviving for a week on energy bars and the like -- he has to travel very light. He was due to arrive around dinner time, and requested red meat. So Jeff got some flank steak, and marinated it in soy sauce, with ginger, garlic and pepper (an effort to echo the meals Japanese theme). It actually went ok and the dinner was surprisingly tasty; the steak was the best part. Here's the spread:

I think he wants me to stop taking pictures so we can eat!

Adam arrived about an hour after we finished dinner, and ate most with great enthusiasm. That's what I like to see!

So, that's what we ate on the final trip of this vacation-filled summer. I think we must have spent at least 4-5 weeks on vacation this summer, not to mention the perpetual holiday of unemployment. We are so lucky to have had the opportunity for so many trips and adventures, but now I am very ready for school to begin again and for this new part of my life to pick up some speed. I am well-installed in Eugene and practicing cooking for one (impossible!). I'm discovering plenty of tasty Northwestern treats around here, you'll soon see some of what I'm working on in my glorious little kitchen.

Bon voyage!

2009-08-14T16:54:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday, the 29th of July, Jesse and I packed up (most of) my stuff and went to Oregon. Below please observe the 10' U-Haul that I rented for an exorbitant sum (though I do highly recommend the U-Haul people far out Mission at Foote Ave -- great customer service!); at first I was in despair thinking that we weren't going to be able to fit everything, but Jesse is a genius packer and by noon or so we had it all packed up.

Off we went!

Over 400 miles on I-5... what a treat.

The beginning part of the drive is aesthetically uninspiring, at best. It starts getting pretty when you pass Sacramento and start heading up the mountains, peaking in beauty in the general Shasta area. There were some fairly impressive mountains,

and even a little snow up high.

We also enjoyed a strange area of extra-luminous fog (or some other low-lying meteorological phenomenon... it looked like fog to me, but than again, that's what I'm used to):

Beautiful!

Unfortunately I failed to photograph most of what we ate on this trip, so this entry will diverge somewhat from the usual subject matter. After all, this is my blog and I can write about whatever I want. Anyway, rest assured that we did not go hungry on the ten hour drive to Eugene. I had recently come into a great deal of salami and cheese (the fruits of an overzealous exploration of the wonderful world of the restaurant depot), so we had plenty of sandwiches. Salami and brie, salami and chevre, some with cornichons and all with dijon mustard of course. We also had what J. terms my "vegetable feedbag," which contained my daily requirement of cucumbers and radishes. I think we also had some fruits, some boiled eggs, and various kinds of tea.

I have this unbelievable thermos that my friend Jeff's dad got in the army, I think:

I've had it for at least ten years, and it has never failed me. It's not beautiful, but that water was still scalding twelve hours later. What a treasure!

As far as I can remember, we didn't have to buy any food until we hit the grocery for dinner supplies near Ashland. Unfortunately we were lacking in the essential sweet component of travel food, but oh well, sugar makes me feel weird anyway. By the way, the sunset, which we hit in the beautiful stretch of the drive near Ashland, was amaaaazing:

It just got better and better!

The drive was really pretty uneventful. Especially for me, as Jesse drove the whole way. We finally arrived around midnight, almost exactly 10 hours after departure. My new apartment used to be the working studio of an artist named Frank Okada; it still has a somewhat dilapidated arty charm. I fell for it right away, and I can't wait to settle in. It's always a bit weird to arrive at an empty apartment in the middle of the night, but we made the best of it.

We dragged in some of U-Haul's furniture blankets and dug up some covers and stuff. It was still about 90 degrees, so we didn't need much. Much to our surprise, there didn't seem to be any mosquitoes present, or really any bothersome insects at all. If there are any mosquitoes in the area, they always track me down with admirable precision, so I would know. This absence was a blessed surprise, as the combination of exhaustion, extreme heat (even at midnight), and blood-sucking beasts would have been absolutely unbearable.

I stocked the fridge with what we had brought:

I know, it's pretty skimpy. But still better than many a college student!
Then we ate some "Thai Kitchen" noodles (actually not bad for a package thing!) and passed out. The "bed" was very uncomfortable.

Cozy, nonetheless!

The next morning we got right to work. We were going to Jonathan and Cara's wedding in Portland on August 1, and we had to return the U-Haul before leaving town, so really we only had one day to plan everything, get all our supplies, and get a decent start on everything. Luckily it was basically the hottest weekend ever in Oregon, so going up and down the stairs a billion times was a total breeze (my apartment is a little box on stilts). See Jesse's blog for additional details on how we fixed it up.

The food situation on this trip was kind of grim, unfortunately. I wasn't set up to really cook until the very end of the trip, and I was (am) really broke, and we were working really really hard 8 a.m. to midnight every day, so it was characterized by long periods of extreme hunger, interspersed with brief episodes of ravenous eating of whatever was at hand. Our second night there, we had the time-honored traditional moving-in meal of pizza and beer... the pizza wasn't great but whatever, it's an American standard.

Jonathan and Cara's wedding was amazing. It was in Overlook Park in North Portland, right by their house. We had the delightful good fortune to be staying at the Palms Motor Hotel, mere steps from both the ceremony and the wedding "afterparty." I've always wanted to try the Palms (based solely on the glory of their sign),

but it seemed ridiculous when I lived a block away. As you might imagine, it didn't quite live up to its advertising, but it was a decent motel and very convenient.

This was the most unpretentious, charming, joyful wedding I have ever had the honor to attend to date. It was also really fun! The weather was very hot that day, but J. and I managed to stay very cool in our fancy dress:

Here are a couple of pictures from the ceremony:

Awwwww!

After the ceremony we all carried our chairs over to the tables, and the party began.

J & C had a great setup for the food at the wedding. There was beer and wine in coolers, and all the food was set up under the park's covered area, self-service. All the dishes were thrift store finds, and guests were encouraged to take whatever they fancied home with them (including flowers, tablecloths, vases, everything!). As the food was served buffet style, you could pick out dishes you liked, and then load them up with your food, and then take them home with you when finished! There was lots of tasty Japanese-type stuff (cold noodles and sushi), as well as more traditional picnic fare. All delicious, and plenty of it. To our delight, there was carrot cake for dessert. Yum! The whole concept was absolutely ideal for guests who had very recently moved into a new home. I got some lovely wine glasses, a few kitschy plates, and a platter. I scored a killer Pink Floyd glass for Jesse:

In sum, a good time was had by all. I really enjoyed showing Jesse around Portland, and he liked the city a lot. But my, how it has changed since I arrived from the East Coast in 1998! I don't think I have ever seen such a dramatic transformation of a place in such a short time. Mostly for the good, I think, though some parts of the city are so shiny and new that it boggles the sensibilities. North Portland in particular has really been on the move. Five years ago, just before I moved to SF, a lady began serving food out of a tiny trailer by the Fresh Pot on N. Mississippi. Now it is a darling little restaurant (called the Moxie, maybe?); we ate breakfast there the day we left:

I had a poached egg on greens with mushrooms; it was very delicate and most delicious, too. I was proud to see how the little restaurant had grown in my absence.

After all the fun wound down in pdx, we got on the good ol' Greyhound and returned to Eugene. Our return was uneventful, and we were ready to get back to work on Monday morning. On Monday and Tuesday, we painted nearly everything in the apartment white, and Jesse built me a ton of shelves and some boxes. I had to put all these books

somewhere:

Luckily the space housed my library perfectly. It was great to liberate all my beloved books from their cardboard prisons!

On Tuesday I finally got to realize my dream of having pegboards in the kitchen (hurray!), and I got the kitchen pretty well-organized. There was no table yet, though, so we had our soba noodles with stir-fried broccoli and mushrooms picnic-style, on the floor. Nonetheless, I was delighted that it was finally time to cook!

Too bad the stove is electric, and miniscule, but I checked and my roasting pan does indeed fit in the oven. Better cooks than I have made gourmet feasts on much less welcoming appliances, so I see it as a long-term challenge to my skills. Oh, and I'm also planning to cheat and buy a little butane camping burner for things that need more finesse.

On Wednesday Jesse finished the dining/kitchen table, so on Wednesday (Jesse's omelettes -- a challenge on the unfamiliar electric stove -- and salad) and Thursday (blackened red snapper, rice, and spinach -- very tasty!)nights we had real dinner at the new table. There is a lovely little fish market right across the street from my apartment; the fish was very fresh, and the fishmongers very friendly, and I am eager to try more of their seafood. They also sell fish and chips out the back, which of course I will try ASAP. The neighborhood is really probably the best location I could have found in Eugene; 15 minute walk to school, numerous grocery stores, the farmer's market and specialty shops within a twenty minute walk, and quite a few appetizing-looking restaurants nearby. What luck! Anyway, it was great to finally be eating some home-cooked food, and the table is fantastic. Time to celebrate!

We left to return to SF very early on Friday morning, and since our return I have been slowly saying goodbye to the place that has been the best home I have ever known. I have truly felt at home here more than I have anywhere else in the world, but then again every place has something valuable to offer and I am eager to explore my new home and make all 280 square feet of it it my own.

belated

2009-06-17T13:13:00.000-07:00

I don't have a camera right now, and things have been so hectic lately... thus no posts in forever (sorry!). I can assure you, however, that I've been very much enjoying summer's bounty.

The nectarines are starting, as are the plums, berries, and tomatoes. And of course I have been enthusiastically eating spring greens, asparagus (Already done for the season; we're looking forward to next year's crop here in SF!), baby potatoes, squashes, and my new favorite: fresh garbanzos. They are firm and nutty with a great toothy texture. I sautéed them in olive oil and added them to dal with rice. I'm really looking forward to corn, more tomatoes, watermelon, peaches and cherries. My mouth is watering thinking about all the beautiful farm stands we'll get to in Vermont.

I'll be moving to Eugene, Oregon in the fall. While it is hard to leave the unbelievable variety of edibles available in SF year-round, I am excited to try what Oregon has to offer as well. Much of Oregon's produce is intensely flavorful, just a really fine example of how good fresh, locally-grown stuff can taste. I'm especially looking forward to nuts, apples, mushrooms and berries, which I have found to be exceptional in Oregon.

Еда в Россий № 2

2009-01-11T13:31:00.000-08:00

I tasted many things in Russia that were just food, not delicious, not disgusting, just a tiny portion of something bland and/or oily. But there are a few meals that stand out as the best and the worst of my gastronomic adventures.

First,
THE WORST

I do not have a picture of the single worst meal I had in Russia... and I had it twice. Svetlana's cooking seemed to happen mostly in the late morning, while we were out doing stuff, and then she would reheat the plate and watch us hawkishly while we ate. The meat always seemed tough and stringy and a little off, like it had bdeen deeply frozen for a long time. Thanks to the microwave, there was always a little puddle of water beneath the food, which amplified gruesome textures a great deal. By the way, she was very adamant that we decide in advance exactly when we would be home for dinner, and was extremely disgruntled when we changed plans. Since the food was reheated anyway, why did she care so much? Кто знает -- who knows. It was a hard thing for adults used to planning their own meal times to deal with. Plus it made us feel really guilty about missing dinner, so I would often hurry home to a disappointing plate, usually rice or potatoes, a piece of meat, and the inescapable tea. Some dried up cucumbers and tomatoes if we were lucky.

One evening, I rushed in and sat down at the table, and Svetlana set down a particularly soupy plate. There were chunks of brown meat (?), rice and I think something with mayonnaise. It smelled not too bad. I attempted to spear a brown chunk, and my fork met with some resistance. A bad sign -- I became suspicious. I got the piece up to my mouth, and then when an unusual scent hit me I realized with horror that it was liver, I assume from a cow. Now, I don't mind liver if it is well-cooked, sliced thinly and browned with some onion in a velvety brown sauce. These were golf ball sized chunks, chewy from previous freezing and with the almost-rotten vapors of organ meats long past their prime. There were no onions to mask the taste, and Svetlana was watching me carefully. The liver-water puddle on the plate was not helping at all.

I eventually managed to eat all but one piece, cutting it into tiny tiny bits and hiding them in forkfuls of rice. However, as she was pretty skimpy with the rice this time, there wasn't quite enough to finish, and I had to claim utter fullness and excuse myself. Misha did not fare as well as I. Just imagine my horror when, perhaps 10 days later, I was presented with yet another wet plate of huge liver chunks. This time they were even bigger, wet on the bottom and dessicated on the top. There was no rice this time, and I simply could not do it. All the bad smells from the freezer seemed to have infused the already-disgusting organ, and I nearly gagged as I tried to put it in my mouth. Svetlana was beginning to glare at me ass I carefully ate around the liver; when I put down my fork, she asked me why I wasn't eating it. "You don't like it." "No, it's good... I just... don't eat this much at home." "Why don't you like it?" "I guess I'm not very hungry..." "Anton [her son-in-law, who always devoured everything with great gusto, adding to my guilt] will eat it. Give him your plate." I did, and he devoured it as usual.

For obvious reasons, this meal stands out as the worst, but another runs a very close second... the moldy fish. I had this twice as well. The "fish" was encased in some sort of crumby breading, I really have no idea what kind of fish it was. It was glutinous and sort of flaky, with basically no flavor, except for what was added by the breading (I think), and that was: mold. I might expect fish to taste off or rotten, at the worst, but moldiness is not something that I ever expected to associate with seafood. It tasted very similar to moldy bread, and it was bizarre and utterly disgusting. The first time was worse, but I was so discouraged by the first moldy fish experience that I couldn't even finish it the second time, even though the mold taste was much more faint. I have no idea how this happened, I assume that the breading was already moldy before the fish ever got lost in the depths of the freezer. This was indubitably the most unpleasant seafood experience I have ever had.

This next experience was not so much about terrible flavor, as it was a major disappointment and a typical Russian food experience. When we were in Moscow, we went to Izmailova market, a sprawling open-air market selling everything from cheap tourist tchotchkes to the most unbelievable centuries-old antiques. There was gorgeous jewellery, housewares, furniture, and decorative stuff, awesome Soviet posters (the Yuri Gagarin ones were like $600+!), vintage clothes (some oddly American hipster-y), and many many other wonderful things. We all bought a lot of stuff, and wandered around for several hours. It was very hot, and this place was unbelievably huge; maybe the equivalent of 10 blocks or more. There was a large section selling only rugs, one selling only silver, one just posters, etc. I suspect we didn't even see half of it. I want to go back with several thousand dollars, prepared to stimulate the local economy! Anyway, we really enjoyed the market, but it was totally exhausting. After 5 weeks of Russia, we were all very fatigued anyway, and Izmailova was completely overwhelming. After a few hours we were desperately hungry, and I spied a kiosk. I ordered salami sandwiches for the three of us. The sandwich turned out to be one piece of dry bread (Russian bread is very dense, perhaps this explains why the loaves are about half the size of American loaves. The bread usually has an intense rye or grainy flavor, and is very dense and can be quite stiff and dry), topped with two one-inch pieces of salami. After walking around for a minimum of 6 hours, this was simply not going to cut it, and I nearly cried as we sat on the wooden floor of the deck and tried to enjoy our "lunch." Later I got a falafel-like thing to quell the pangs; it was actually quite good. I was continually frustrated by the miniscule portions; I don't see how people can operate on such tiny amounts of nourishment. I got the feeling that people thought I was gluttonous, but I was just so hungry all the time!

This trend was well-illustrated at another meal after a long journey. Some of our group took the train to Petrazavodsk, in Karelia, to see the island of Kizhi, an incredible UNESCO World Heritage Site (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kizhi). It was fascinating and most beautiful; the natural beauty and peace of the surroundings were a welcome change from the grime of Petersburg. The jewels of Kizhi are its astounding wooden churches, built in the 1700s without the aid of any nails. Here are a few pictures to give you an idea:

Anyway, we took an overnight train from Petersburg to Patrozavodsk, which was really quite fun. In traditional Russian fashion, we brought lots of beer and food, and, excited about our adventure, we slept very little and had a great time. So great, in fact, that the provodnitsa (the lady who rules the train car, brings around the tea, and wakes you when the train is stopping) had to reprimand us. Believe me, you want to be on her good side! So we were very tired and really looking forward to breakfast when we got to the desolate little station in Karelia. It was still very early, maybe 7 something, so we had a lot of time to kill before we could actually go to the island of Kizhi. They seemed very unprepared for our arrival at the station restaurant; there were still decorations up from the "disco" the night before (or maybe it was a wedding), and the waitresses were surly and looked hungover. After some wrangling by our fearless leader, Krista, breakfast was served:

This was the most pathetic breakfast I have ever had. That "juice" seemed to be corn syrup heavily diluted with water. There was some sort of little pastry suggesting apple flavor, and a little triangle of something potato-y. And of course, there was Nescafe.

We were all so disappointed that we were practically silent during breakfast. I couldn't even finish mine (it was that flavorless and melancholic), and it wasn't cheap by Russian standards, maybe $9 or so. What a bummer! But later we had some delicious blini from a stand, and plenty of ice cream (Russians LOVE ice cream!), so it wasn't a complete bust on the food front.

A few other low points included: Jesse's meat in "sharp sauce," which seemed to be mostly tomatoes floating in oil; the aforementioned frequent herring surprise/mayonnaise salad; and this beer:

Actually, I couldn't even bring myself to try it. The 2-liter bottle made me suspicious, and the violently negative reactions of my comrades ensured the rapid fading of my curiosity. Disgusting! Jesse says it was like the warm end of a 40oz -- ugh.

And now on to...
THE BEST

One thing that Russians do very very well is pickles:

Here we have delicious pickled cucumbers, garlic, and what I suspect are cucumber stems (but I'm really not sure). Pickle plates were very much the same most places we ordered them, and were always very vinegary and delicious. The supposed cucumber stems were a little fibrous, long and green, and tender. Any ideas as to what they might be if they're not cucumber stems? Anyway, they are delicious, and an absolute necessity when drinking in Russia. I also found that they helped to cut the grease and the blandness of much Russian food.

Another thing that I failed to get many photos of is the hilarious naming of dishes in English. Unfortunately I failed to note most of them and now have forgotten, but we did see advertised "trout stranger," a dish called "from a pork's neck" (what from a pork's neck, I wonder?), as well as the intriguing

I also frequently enjoyed "all sorts from a pickle" at our main café hangout. Tasty!

There are many astonishing snack foods in Russia, including a plethora of dried fish products. I still have a whole Russian dried fish in my freezer, actually! But the chips really are incredible -- some of the flavors are just plain weird, but some are utterly delicious. My favorite was the crab flavor, though I also liked the caviar ones (I don't even like real caviar). Jesse really liked the little ham & cheese flavored crackers. All these super-salty, crunchy things go perfectly with a nice warm Baltika! I sure wish I could have brought some home with me -- they are delectable.

We were really scarfing them down at the train station as we we waited to leave for Moscow, which brings me to another best: train travel.

Much to my surprise, train travel in Russia is marvelously efficient. You can absolutely depend on your train's on-time arrival and departure, and everything is set up with the utmost efficiency. They arrange the trains so that even if the trip is relatively short, say a few hours direct, they make the night trains go more slowly so you can rest some on the overnight -- ingenious! Naturally I took the opportunity to pack heavy nourishment for the trip:

I think we ate nearly all of it. It's a good thing too, because it would be a loooong time until we found nourishment again in Moscow. See Jesse's blog (www.jankyswankys.blogspot.com) for more details on that part of the journey.

Unfortunately I don't have a picture of this meal, but after Jesse, Rose and I had spent an extremely taxing day seeing the Kremlin (we had to get in line three times to get tickets to see the armory, but it was worth it! Those diamonds were absolutely dazzling!), we sank exhausted to the grass outside its walls. There was a hot dog (хот дог) stand just outside one of the gates, and we each devoured at least 2 hot dogs, accompanied by coldish beers (!), and then fell asleep in the grass. It was very hot, we were exhausted, and the cheap food and beer tasted amazing. It was perfect, and we were absolutely ready to head for home the next day.

And now on to the final best... probably the single most satisfying eating experience of the whole trip: the Helsinki airport. We had a few hours here, and after the turmoil and confusion of Sheremetyevo, the Helsinki airport seemed like heaven. It was so clean and quiet it felt like a library, and very well designed, with pale wood, lots of windows, and plenty of little seats and things to look at. All the staff were young, attractive, and very hip (some even had neck tattoos!), and they all seemed happy to help us on our way. One young man even walked me all the way back to the check in desk from customs so I could check my contraband vodka (he was supposed to confiscate it). All the staff were so friendly and helpful that it seemed surreal, in stark contrast to Russians (they have a certain charm, and can really open up when you've properly proven yourself, but no one could rightly call them a smiling and friendly people). Delighted with our smooth exodus from Russia, we all sat in the café and spent what was probably an astronomical amount on sandwiches and snacks -- I didn't care or notice at all. In any case, the snacks were good -- they had flavor! And they made me full! And they didn't include mayonnaise! Also, you could pay in any currency, which was cool. And it was just such a blessed relief to have everything going smoothly. Perhaps the only thing that I can say definitively about Russia is that almost nothing will go the way you expect it to, which is both intriguing and unbelievably frustrating. Here I am with my Puffet ice cream sandwich, saying пока to Russia:

(не) очень вкусно!

2009-01-04T12:59:00.000-08:00

As you may or may not know, I was in Russia for five weeks last summer. And yes, this post is indeed long overdue. Armed with the courage of traveling with an organized program (through SF State University, my MA alma mater), I made the arduous trip to St. Petersburg, where I stayed in a nightmare homestay for 4 weeks -- authentic! Thankfully, I was housed with my comrade from Russian class, Misha, and together we faced our formidable хозаика, Svetlana. More on her later. After an eternity (marked by Svetlana's diligent daily moving of the red square across the calendar's boxes; I stared fixedly at the calendar and eagerly noted the red square's new position every morning while she observed us eating breakfast), Jesse came to meet me. Along with a few other students, we went by train to Moscow, where we stayed another five days. The non-gastronomic details of the adventure are another story entirely, much of which can be found on Jesse's blog: www.jankyswankys.blogspot.com .

Anyway, I wasn't exactly going for the food, but I was still excited to try eating some new things and tasting a new culture. I tried to go with few expectations, yet nonetheless Russia managed to confound basically all my preconceptions, not least in its unique approach to culinary matters.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

My first taste of Russia was, appropriately, borscht. FinnAir had provided us with a very respectable snack, initiating my complete and enduring satisfaction with the airline, but after more than a day's journey, I was very ready for a real meal. A little put off by the ramshackle courtyard

and deflated by the struggle to pull my 1000 lb. suitcase up five flights of stairs, Misha and I were rather nervous and flustered as Svetlana greeted us and urged us to sit at the table in the narrow, greenish kitchen. She offered us tea (чаи -- many Russians brew a pot of very strong tea and add hot or cold water to it to dilute for drinking. I was very disappointed to not be offered jam to put in it, as I had thought this was common practice. Milk in tea is unheard of, it seems, and the addition of sugar is much encouraged.). She then served us very thin but gloriously magenta borscht. The borscht I have had in the US has usually been rather thicker, with lots of bits of cabbage in it; sometimes it has had meat in it, and sometimes it has been pureed. This soup was very good, and we both had seconds. In retrospect, I believe this was the only time that Svetlana willingly offered us seconds, and one of the few times that I actually wanted more of something delicious that she was serving. She herself did not eat anything, but watched us fixedly as we ate. This would prove to be her habit at mealtimes.

After we finished our soup and stumbled through some smalltalk (she spoke zero English, as far as I could tell), Svetlana got out some paper and grilled us on what, exactly, should go on the list of things she would be feeding us. If I had known that she would adhere so strictly to the list, I might have tried to be a little more creative! I did, however, get the sense that this was more a quiz than a dialogue. She would ask: eggs? we would reply, yes. Boiled? yes. Kasha? Ummmm... KASHA? yes. Bread? yes. Cheese? yes. And so on. Knowing that few Russians can afford a wide variety of foods, particularly fruits and vegetables, I tried to be as accommodating as possible. After she had finished the list, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed and disoriented, and went into my "bedroom"

for most of the rest of the afternoon.

On our first morning, Svetlana made us blini. At first, this seemed wonderful. Blini are fat, puffy little pancakes fried in oil, and served with the inevitable sour cream (сметана). They are very tasty, but we soon realized that Svetlana expected us to eat at least a dozen each, with extra for Misha. They are very filling; five would be a solid breakfast for me! Jam was again conspicuously absent from the table; I began to feel disillusioned, as I had always read that jam and preserves were a major part of the Russian diet, particularly in the absence of fresh fruit. I surreptitiously mixed a little sugar with my sour cream for variety. I think I consumed more sugar in Russia than in the whole past year of normal life; I don't have a major sweet tooth, but Russians certainly do, and sweets are ubiquitous.

Misha and I set off for our first day of school, and by lunchtime in the mid afternoon I was ravenous. This state would prove to be pretty much a constant throughout the trip. Our group ate in a Georgian cafe near the university, and the food, though oily, was pretty good. Georgian food is a good deal more exciting than typical Russian food; it is "spicy" by Russian standards, with plenty of tomatoes, oil and eggplant. typical dishes are mutton kebabs, stews with tomatoes, peppers and eggplant, and various things roasted in oil. While this meal was satisfying, I was starting to become suspicious about the portion sizes. I do not think that I am a stereotypical American glutton, but I do get hungry. And I was perpetually hungry for the first few weeks in Russia, until I started buying my own groceries and packing food for the day along with me.

Svetlana and her entire family (husband, 5 daughters and a few spouses, most of whom lived together in the apartment) seemed astounded by my appetite, and several times asked me how I could eat so much and be so thin. Fitness has not really arrived in the Russian mainstream yet, and my explanations that I get a lot of exercise at home and thus can eat a lot were met with blank stares. All the women in the apartment professed to being on a diet, except for the youngest one, who ate with the normal gusto of a teenager. Our gifts of dried fruits were met with initial curiosity and later were utterly ignored. I'm sure they were thrown away as soon as we left. Our gift of coffee was ignored from the very first, which brings me to another issue.

The coffee situation in Russia is dire. Everyone drinks plenty of tea, and when we did encounter coffee anywhere, it was Nescafe or similar. I have never experienced a jones for coffee so intense! I was exhausted by being unable to sleep through the white nights, and so in the absence of coffee I was near delirium for a Misha and I came to depend on weak "American-style" coffee from the ubiquitous chain of кофе-хаус (coffee-house) cafés. I think this was really more like an americano, and at over $4, the price was too high for daily consumption. In addition, the service at the кофе-хаус was abominably slow (another Russian constant -- customer service does not exist!), and we were late several times because we were so desperate for coffee. Eventually I pretty much gave up and focused on tea, some of which was really very good. I never did get to try it with jam, though.

GROCERY SHOPPING
Most of the restaurants that I encountered in Russia were cafeteria style. For less than $5, I often got soup, "salad," some bready thing, a drink, and maybe some dessert. Let me warn you: salad in Russia is not going to fulfill your hankering for vegetables. It will definitely include mayonnaise, as do many other usually mayonnaise-free foods. It will probably be mostly made up of beets or carrots; it may have a herring surprise hidden somewhere in all the mayonnaise. I love herring, but not when I am expecting beet salad! In any case, this typical cafeteria food is very cheap and very unsatisfying. It is often lukewarm and never served with a smile. I rarely saw any salt or pepper, let alone any other spices or seasonings. The food is not horrible, just very bland, tiny portions, and often mushy and not fresh. At my house, there was salt, pepper, and sometimes fresh dill for seasoning. That was it, and seemed to be pretty much the norm. There are plenty of very nice restaurants (though even the nicest often have TVs in the dining room!), but they are astronomically expensive. I went to one, more on that later. Spurred by constant hunger, desperation, and boredom with the cafeteria food, I decided to brave the grocery store. There were several small 7-11 type groceries near my house, and in fact all over the city, but I wanted the real deal.

This market was on the way to the metro from my house in St. Petersburg. It was HUGE.

I was both delighted and daunted when I saw this market. I actually went in once and did a little recon before I got up the nerve to buy anything. You see, one must ask for everything, usually by weight. If one's vocabulary is rather limited, and one's familiarity with the metric system a little shaky, this can be very, very difficult. Each little island area sells something different; on the first floor alone there were stands for bread, spices, sweets, fruit & veg, tea, dairy, imports (mostly from Finland), meat, seafood, juices, alcohol, and more. I didn't even go up to the second floor. Many of the vendors are all vying for the customer's attention, so I basically ignored them as much as possible and tried to head straight for what I wanted. I'm sure I was easily pegged as a foreigner with a lot of money to blow; I probably spent more than many Russians earn in a month on fruit and vegetables.

Here I am at my favorite fruit stall. This lady was one of the friendliest merchants I met anywhere in Russia, probably because of my exorbitant spending, but nonetheless I was grateful for her kindness. The quality of the produce was generally very good, everything was beautifully displayed (she pulls what you want from bins beneath the display), and the variety was impressive. There were also many fruit stands on the street, but the fruit was not nearly as high quality as in the big markets. By the way, you can buy just about anything from a kiosk in Russia -- beer (16 oz cans or bigger, always warm -- there are refrigerated ones, but the vendors seem to want to preserve the display and always give you a warm one), hard alcohol, fruit & veg, cheese, yogurt and milk, fruity drinks, sausages, blini, hot dogs & burgers, candy, pierogi, etc.

This was the most daunting and fascinating part of the market -- the meat counter. I have never seen anything like it. Little refrigeration, huge parts of animals ready to be chosen and cut up, and this staring up at you:

The meat was pretty good, though. I suspect that much food in Russia is sort of organic by default, though I'm sure that industrial pollution is rampant. The meat seemed pretty lean and looked quite fresh. When I asked for ground meat, the lady told me that one only grinds bad meat, and she didn't sell bad meat, so I would have to get whole pieces. I liked her logic and then was stumped by having absolutely none of the necessary vocabulary. We decided eventually on pig meat (I only knew the words for pig and cow), from the shoulder area (I think), cut lengthwise. I have no idea what it was really, but it tasted good and I was proud that I managed to make the transaction work.

This is a supermarket in Moscow, a famous one called Yeliseevsky Delicatessen. As you can see, it is astonishingly beautiful. They have all kinds of imports, and it was astronomically expensive. Packaged vegetables as high as $20 or more, fancy things in tins, fresh bread and cakes, an unusual assortment of imported spices, Japanese packaged things, a wonderful prepared foods section, and I think a separate wing for caviar and champagne. I was so overwhelmed, it was hard to really take it in. It sure did make me hungry, though!

We bought a few treats from Yeliseevsky, but mostly we bought stuff from the little stands near our Moscow apartment. Being a customer in Russia is pretty tricky; lines as such do not really happen. You have to get right up by the counter, make eye contact, and demand what you want while the clerk stares at you balefully. If you're not fast enough or don't know exactly what you want, the clerk will move on to the next irritated customer who is pushing in right beside you. It is very stressful, particularly if you don't know the names of what you want! Dinners in Moscow were improv and we were all so exhausted by that time that I couldn't put much into it, but it felt great to be cooking again!

I think that most of these are for pounding meat?

More to follow; for now I wish you приятного аппетита!

marmalade

2008-08-26T18:55:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a while since I had anything new on this little blog... and I do still have many pictures to post, and a lot of tasty things to write to you about.

But right now I am thinking of marmalade. Lately I've been eating toast with almond butter and kumquat marmalade for breakfast. Yum! Are jams and jellies considered condiments? My mum would know, because of it's trademark appellation (?). (UPDATE, by my mother: Jams, jellies, and preserves do not count as condiments in the trademark world. Jams, jellies, and preserves are in Class 29, while condiments and seasonings are in Class 30. Processed garlic used to be in Class 29 with all other vegetables, but now it has two classifications, Class 29 if used as a vegetable, Class 30 if used as a seasoning. The dividing line between these two is unspecified.) Anyway, marmalade is one of my favorites. I love its texture, the combination of transparent, delicate gelatin and pithy bits that catch your teeth. It also has a slightly sharp, acid smell which I think is lovely. Marmalades and jellies are one thing that English cuisine does very well indeed; poignantly, this facility also has great crossover with Indian flavors.

I'm trying to think of some interesting potential flavors: coriander, tomato, and garlic; almond milk and rosewater; bitter orange and parsley (with cucumber grated on top); kiwi; cherry; berry and champagne; watermelon and mint. I have heard of champagne jelly before, but I am curious about how well other alcohols gel.

I am particularly intrigued by savory jellies and marmalades. Maybe a combination of lightly sweet and sour or pungent tastes. I suppose mint jelly is the most common(and it is delicious), but there are so many more to consider! Quince is another delicious one; and somehow it manages to be both traditional and rare. Some fruits and vegetables lend themselves better to gelling. I think tomato jelly or marmalade is one of the most beautiful. It might even be lovely as a topping for yogurt/crème fraiche ice cream.

So in conclusion, I must admit that I am a little scared of canning (especially the hot-water sealing). But I think it's something I really must explore. Isn't gelatin amazing?

vacation eating

2008-04-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

I spend a significant portion of my vacations in the kitchen (when there is one). I can easily spend more on the groceries than on the entire rest of the trip! I find it so satisfying and relaxing to cook for the others present, especially as there is always plenty of time and I can cook fancifully and really enjoy sharing the experience. A few months ago, Jesse and I went to Tahoe, and I stuffed us full of food. It was just the two of us, which was perfect because we could just eat whenever we felt like it. I also don't get to feed him as much as I want to at home because our schedules are really different. But in Tahoe, it was snowy and we needed lots of energy for lying on the floor by the fire.

Here are the supply lists:

Not too bad, I don't think. There wasn't too much leftover and we ate really well. There is, of course, a grocery store up in Tahoe (though sadly, it is now a Cheap-o-Savr or whatever, and not Albertson's, and so naturally there are no more chocolate chip cookies in the purple bag. Those were the PERFECT chocolate chip cookies. they even made vegans unable to read ingredient labels). Anyway, I think it is best to get as many of the supplies as possible before you get to your vacation place. Because it is fun to plan the menus, and also then you can have a better idea of your continuing financial situation for the trip.

So we stopped at Berkeley Bowl, my new favorite grocery store, and stocked up. They have awesome produce, so that's mostly what I got. It can be hard to find good produce up in the mountains. And I can't live without radishes and cucumbers! They also have these roasted tomatos that are soooo delicious on pasta. Good olive selection, too. Naturally one needs plenty of liquid refreshment as well. Few things are better than snow-chilled beer and champagne, and they have pretty good prices at Berkeley Bowl, so we stocked up on booze too.

Unfortunately it has taken me so long to make this post that I'm no longer sure of the order in which we had the meals. So I guess I'll just divide them into the categories of snacks/breakfast & lunch/dinner.

It's not as if one really needs 3 meals a day plus snacks when you're doing absolutely nothing, but we were stoned and I never have that much time to cook when I'm at home, so I fed us within an inch of our lives. And I think I had some real successes! I'll show you the highlights.

First, the snacks:

These are tiny Japanese cookies called "Every Burger." I have no idea why anyone would think to make a cookie that looks like a tiny hamburger, but these things are fucking delicious! They are all sugar, with chocolate where the meat part of the burger goes, and soft cookie for the buns. There are even sesame seeds on them! Also made of sugar! Anyway we snarfed these down at top speed. The photo is blurry because I was rushing to take it before these irresistibly precious little treats were gone.

This is probably my favorute snack of all time. I love shrimp cocktail and always have. It still seems really posh and special to me, like something you only get to eat in hotels. We got some regular just-unfrozen shrimp from the Cheap-o-Savr and had at em. Delicious! I love the graininess of the cocktail sauce with the smooth shrimps.

Now on to breakfast:
I brought my waffle iron up with me. I seriously hadn't used it in about 15 years. I have no idea why I have even kept it, moving it around to a dozen different houses. I got it for Christmas when I was 11, and made waffles all the time until I went to boarding school (and my parents probably told me that their waistlines couldn't afford to have Belgian waffles 3 times a week anymore). Then I forgot about it, but couldn't bear to get rid of it. And I'm glad I didn't!

Here I am getting breakfast ready. Making the waffles is so easy, they come out beautifully, like magic.

I served them with butter and maple syrup (of course), accompanied by blood oranges and feijoa fruits. I was so excited to find feijoas at Berkeley Bowl; I had them daily when I lived in Colombia (there was a tree in the yard), and I have never seen them here before. They have a lovely, slightly sharp flowery scent, and the fruit is a beautiful pale green with purplish pulp. The outer flesh is firm and gritty, and the pulp is very sweet. They were delicious in combination with the bright blood oranges and the buttery waffles.

And on to lunch:

Jesse's really good at making grilled cheese. Nice and brown on the outside, with the cheese so melty and creamy. These were perfect. In fact, it was a perfect lunch all around. I love slightly updated childhood favorites like this. We had coffee, the grilled cheeses, roasted tomato soup, and snap peas on the side. The contrast in textures and temperatures was perfect. Yum!

Jesse's also really good at making BLTs. While I love to cook for us, his specialties are so delicious and I love their rare appearances (usually on vacation). This BLT had pepper bacon and avocado, on sourdough of course, with more fruit on the side. And by the way, I think black coffee is the perfect lunch beverage. The bitterness cleans your palate between bites, and the heat is soothing. Plus the mug looks so good sitting next to your sandwich. Again, a great and classic mix of textures and temperatures.

And finally, dinner:
We had two epically delicious dinners.

This pasta was the first. I think it was fresh parsley linguine. On top was pork italian sausage, fried with onion and garlic, those delicious oily roasted tomatoes from Berkeley Bowl, olives, and more italian parsley. I've made this a few times and the flavors are aromatic and hearty. So easy to make and really satisfying. Sorry the picture doesn't really show much.

This one was my favorite dinner in a long time:

Sliders! They were so damned good. I don't think I've ever had homemade sliders before. It was really fun to be making such a whimsical meal together. Jesse handled actually cooking the burgers, because he's better at cooking meat. He did them just perfectly. We made three kinds: plain, rosemary with garlic, and cheddar, horseradish and maybe worcestershire sauce. I wanted to cut the buns down to the right size, but I think I was too hungry to be bothered. They were cooked just right, a little red, and they were really juicy. I loved the ones with rosemary, with a little dijon mustard. There was salad on the side, with blood orange dressing. I can't remember what was in it, but I make good salad so I bet it was tasty.

I didn't do any baking because I'm scared of baking at altitude.

And that's all! I'm long past ready for another vacation.

Introduction

2008-03-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

I now have the honour of introducing to you my fellow gastronome: Dan! I have had the pleasure of both his company and his cooking for several years now, and I can say without reserve that he is both a magnificent cook and a charming man about town. What a guy!

I am trying to write my MA thesis and don't have a lot of time for eating, let alone writing about it. Except in my thesis, of course (which, in case you are burning with curiosity, is about cannibalistic gastronomy in Greenaway's The Cook, the Thief, his Wife and Her Lover and Chamoiseau's Chronique des sept misères). So Dan will be showing up here sometimes to keep you entertained with some of his own research and reflection on delicious things while I try to graduate in May.

Don't worry, though, my thoughts are still consumed with gastronomic dreams. I'll be planning some posts as soon as I can.

fungiform papillae

2008-02-04T14:43:00.000-08:00

"A supertaster is a person who experiences taste with far greater intensity than average. Women are more likely to be supertasters, as are Asians and Africans. Among individuals of European descent, it is estimated that about 25% of the population are supertasters. The cause of this heightened response is currently unknown, although it is thought to be, at least in part, due to an increased number of fungiform papillae." [wikipedia]

I really have no idea whether or not I am a supertaster, or even whether I would want to be one if I could choose. What does it really mean to taste foods more intensely? Do tasty things taste "better?" Could a crisp, sweet/tart, autumn apple warm from the sun possibly taste better to one apple-lover than to another? I have pondered the idea ever since Jeffrey Steingarten wrote about it in Vogue sometime last year, and although I do indeed hate endive, radicchio, and frisée, I love coffee, broccoli, and brussel sprouts. I've never really been a picky eater, and the list of foods I don't like is quite short (the above plus cauliflower and morels, and probably a few other things I haven't tried yet).
I'll have to buy a test kit for conclusive proof.

While awaiting my test kit (order here), I'll continue to fulfill my self-appointed role as unofficial SuperTaster. This means that I will continue to taste just about anything, and also that a great majority of my brainspace is consumed with thoughts of food. Even my MA thesis is about food... so now studying whets my appetite too, along with just about everything else. Right now, in fact, I am eating a banana and some rice crackers (my new thing), and thinking about dinner (kale and sweet potato soup -- my other new thing).