Shooting Stars and Banana Tart, and oh yeah, Pad Thai too

Last weekend we all reclined on the new magnificent deck that William built up in Sonoma to star gaze at the meteor showers. Tonight we went to Susie’s for dinner where our new dog, Boomer showered her hard wood floor with liquid comets out of his butt.
I think you get the picture.
But Dan is really good at “saves.” As she looked down at the new spot on her floor (after I somehow got through cleaning it up without puking), he firmly told her that the floor has needed to be refinished for years. “It’s high time you got these floors re-finished,” Daniel advised her. “Now you have the impetus. You should thank us.” Daniel is so gifted at turning bad things like these around. Such a helpful man.

To celebrate the prospect of newly refurbishing her floors, I helped out by providing dessert. Recipe 37: Banana Chocolate Tart with Caramel and Chocolate Sauce.

But now I realize I forgot to post a recipe! You can tell I’m getting busier at work by my lack of postings. The Young Pad Thai with Almond Chile Sauce was so perfect! Email me for the recipe, it’s a winner and easy to do. . I had a chance to use tamarind for the first time, very interesting. And the spicy cashews with it really gave the dish dimension. I brought it to the Concert in the Park last week and it was well received by Rick and Alane. It had that wonderful nutty sauce and coconut flavor that’s so good in Thai food. Very authentic, I recommend.

The Banana Chocolate Tart? Well it was delicious, but the “tart” that I first had to soak wheat berries overnight, then sprout them (2 days), then dehydrate them (hours), then grind into flour, to then mix with some oil, maple syrup and salt and dehydrate for ten hours (getting up at 3 in the morning to remove the parchment paper)…oh, that and then she tells me (because I never read recipes through before I cook, that would be too grown up) …because the tiny shells are fragile and time-consuming, make extras in case of breakage. Well, honey, I can tell you, there was no danger of breakage with these puppies. They had the integrity of week old bread. No breakage here, Roxanne.

So I would say the trouble of the “tart” was not worth it. But the delicious “caramel” sauce (cashew milk, dark honey, date paste, maple syrup) YUM, and the fudge (made from almond butter, cocoa and syrup) drizzled over the bananas: YES! The honey walnuts were a great accompaniment.

After dessert Susie made us sit through a movie we had already seen while she disappeared into the other room. Maybe to cry about her floor. You know how they have make-up sex? Well I’m hoping my dessert is make-up dessert. I hope it was delicious enough to remind her of what a sweet friend I am next time my dog lets go on her floor.

Life’s a Peach and then you Die

It’s raining peaches, nectarines and plums in the Valley right now. Yellow peaches with firm, golden insides that are juicy, called Baby Crawfords. Mariposa Plum, Heavenly White Nectarine, Green Gage Plum, Gold Dust Peach, Speckled Egg Nectarine. These are just a few I learned about (and some I tasted!) at Andy’s Orchard http://www.andysorchard.com/index.shtml. Rare fruit grower and preserver of over 200 varieties, Andy Mariani, collects rare varieties and has saved many heirlooms from extinction.

Most of us have only seen a single species in the grocery stores. You see, the heirloom varieties don’t ship well and they don’t always “look” like that rosy red and orange peach color that consumers think taste good, so if a grower wants to sell his peaches, he will go with a peach that can stand up to the beating of being shipped and still “look” good. They will also pick these peaches before they’re even ripe. Hey, if they’re hard, they’ll ship better.

Unfortunately, once a peach is picked it will not ripen any further and never develop another drop of sweetness. Of course these don’t taste anything near as delicious or unforgettable as a heritage peach. Next time you buy a peach in the store, look at the stem. If it’s green, they picked it underipe.

Well, I had the great pleasure last week of visiting Andy’s Orchard and tasting 80+ succulent, juicy peaches, nectarines and plums. I went down with the Bakers Dozen group http://bakersdozen.org/ and Andy rolled out the red carpet with over 80 heirloom varietals cut up and labeled there for us to taste and learn more about. They even served peach cobbler! We were gorged with stone fruit as we descended upon the orchard where Andy talked to us a little about fruit farming and allowed us to pick!

All this time I thought a nectarine was some kind of a peach-tangerine cross or something. All a nectarine is, is a peach without the fuzz! Only one gene difference between them. He told us about a peacotum (apricot-peach-plum mix)! He showed us that all you should do when picking a peach is to gently cradle it. If it drops in your hand, it’s ripe and should be picked. If not, leave it until it’s ready.

Andy does not sell underipe fruit and because he is getting a reputation for such fine fruit, and consumers are beginning to catch onto this buy local = quality thing, he is now shipping boxes of his dazzling fruit out to some choice markets.

He told us a story about an heirloom variety known as the Dinosaur Egg. It had a happy reputation as a very delicious variety and the farm was beginning to get known for it’s famous plum, which is a good thing when a farmer can make a living. Unfortunately a marketing company decided this was a terrific name, patented it and began labeling inferior plums (but ones that had the same interesting “egg” look of mottled skin and solid fruit inside) as Dinosaur Eggs. The farm was prohibited from ever using the name again. Greediness is sickening, isn’t it? These kinds of stories make me so sad. But then I see how well Andy’s Farm is doing, how committed they are to quality and goodness, and I see Good overpowering the Bad.

It’s like the seasons. Now we have so much fruit, tomatoes and fresh veggies, it’s like a cornucopia! Then the season will change and the last peach will fall from the tree. The peach will rot and feed the soil, which will feed the tree for next summer’s delicious fruits. Nothing ever dies, really, it just recycles. Compost the bad to feed the good. Now, Go eat a Peach!

Ice Cream Rolls and the Glow of Louis Armstrong

Friends shakin’ hands sayin’ “how do you do” they’re really sayin’ I love you…

Wednesday evenings are becoming music night with a couple of my choir buddies. We listen to music together, sing a lot and share dinner. Today started like this:

1:30 a.m. Alarm goes off. I sleep walk to the dehydrator to turn it off so the cake for the ice cream rolls doesn’t get too dried out.
9:30 a.m. I’m up now and check the cake. Oops, it’s not dry at all, I turn the dehydrator back on. Thank God I have all day.
9:40 a.m. Power goes out.
9:50 a.m. Husband informs me that PG&E won’t have power back on until 11 a.m.
9:51 a.m. My internal alarm sounds as I realize I need to print 120 name badges and FedEx before 5 p.m. plus deal with last minute online registrations which I now can’t get because the power’s out. AND make two kinds of ice cream using an electric ice cream maker and put the dessert together requiring electric blenders in preparation of tonight.
9:59 a.m. I talk myself down from the roof and decide to do my usual trip to the Wednesday Farmer’s Market, followed by a hike up Sugar Loaf. Heck, by the time I return the power will be back on. I’ll have plenty of time. Life is good.
11:30 a.m. Huh, that’s funny, still no power. Husband informs me PG&E won’t have power back on until 2 p.m.
11:30:01 a.m. A panic attack sets in as I wonder how I will get everything done. Why does life have to be so difficult?
11:31 I switch into “when the going gets tough, the tough get going” mode. Yes, Deb is home, Yes, she has power. Off I go with my two dehydrator trays of soggy cake batter and the carmelized nuts to use Deb’s dehydrator. Backing out of the driveway the #$%&@ ! gate won’t open. Oh that’s right, it’s electronic, no power. I call my husband who opens it manually, but steps in dog shit so hops around on one foot to the hose. I appreciate the comedy relief.
11:33 I make mental note: husbands are handy even with dog shit caked on their shoe.
11:50 Put husband to work hooking up new computer monitor. Figure this is a good way to use dead time (I never have time to boss him around for stuff like this). I turn my compost pile. I check voicemail with my cell, since my phone system is out too. I’m not panicking, I’m NOT panicking.
1 p.m. I continue to develop different strategies on how I will get the name badges done by 5 if the power doesn’t come back on. I imagine hoofing my computer and ice cream maker to Deb’s. I make more business calls.
2:15 p.m. Power’s back on! Oh no, I forgot the cake at Deb’s. My God, I hope it’s not overcooked. I barrel out of the driveway and almost ram the gate down. Damn! It’s still manual because we didn’t plug it back in yet. I open it myself this time, careful not to step in any piles.
4:30 p.m. Husband says he is going downtown. Oh! I say, would you wait a few minutes for me to finish these tags so you can drop them at FedEx? He says yes. Mental note to self: Husbands are wonderful, especially with no trace of dog shit smell.
5 p.m. I’m in the kitchen ice-creaming up the Star Thistle Gelato and Chai Ice Cream.

Later that night…The dessert turns out beautifully and very delicious. I am proud. We sing and listen to a bunch of songs together and as we sing What a Wonderful World together I feel very peaceful and content after such a hectic day, and I say to myself, what a wonderful life.

(see comment for recipe)

Off-Key Duet and a Quartet of Soups

Somehow the dishes are getting done. In fact I discover him in front of the sink often these days. It’s kind of hard for me to believe but I think my husband’s learning where some of the less frequently-used kitchen items are stored. No, he hasn’t learned to wipe the counters clean, but he does sweep the floor if I ask. And he shares his computer with me for my blog writing and photos with a minimum of grumbling.

Why isn’t this enough for me? Why do I also want him to be in good cheer about the whole thing and to offer a supportive attitude? It’s not enough that he supports me with his actions, I want his attitude to align with mine too. There has been some friction in the household the last few days. When things are good, I reflect back on the sour times and think I’ve been too intense and should ease up on him. When things aren’t so harmonious I realize it’s definitely him, not me. No, I’m not PMSing as he likes to suggest in these situations. In fact, I think HE is PMSing, and if I WERE PMSing, he would be taking his life into his hands by even suggesting this.

Like tonight. Soup Quartet. The soups have been cupped, garnished, photo taken (by me, I’d like to emphasize). He walks into kitchen. I say, “hey the soups are ready, let’s taste them.” What’s his response?
I’ll try them tomorrow.
You'll try them TOMORROW?!
Not: Hey, honey just LOOK at those soups. Wow. I can’t wait to taste them.
So that’s what I say to him, basically. I’m sure there’s some term for this technique in psychology, like leading the stupid, pea-brained horse to water or something.
Then he backs up. “Of course I want to taste them tonight.” The horse drinks water.

One thing I work at here at the homestead is composting. I save all our kitchen scraps for the worm bin and for the compost pile. This decreases our garbage volume, adds valuable microbes back to the soil, which saves on watering the plants, enriches the soil better than any store-bought fertilizer could ever do, saves $$ on buying water-table polluting fertilizers, doesn’t contribute to the ever-piling high sea of garbage at the dumps that we’re running out of space on…gee, what else? Suffice to say I’m going to the trouble to do a good thing (remembering, of course, that no good deed goes unpunished).

Do I get a pat on the back? No, he has the nerve to make snide comments about the fruit flies that gently buzz around my compost canister. It’s not like a swarm, and I clean it out every other day. What’s the big deal?

Today I harvested compost from my worm bin and walked through the house with a bag full to spread on the lawn.
Eew, what’s that? He whined. I imagine his face all screwed up, because that’s what I see when he takes that tone.
It’s worm castings, are you hungry?
I mean, Daniel is a guy-guy. Why would something like worm castings, fruit flies or decomposing vegetables gross him out?
I think he does this just to piss me off. It does.
And so the soups provided a perfect illustration of just how different we are.

As I said, tonight I made A Quartet of Soups: Asparagus, Carrot, Corn and Celery Root (see comment for recipe). But first, a word about the soups. All very simple to make, except the frickin garnish on the Celery Root Soup took a couple of days. They wanted to marinate the eggplant quarters that are dropped in the soup, as well as the slivered celery root on top. I don’t know whether I like celery root or not, but I found the soup complex and tastey. The Carrot Soup with young thai coconut, well, I always like carrot soup or juice, so that’s a no brainer. I also like Corn Soup, but somehow this one did not work for me. Too simple, I think. It simply consisted of pureed corn and water seasoned with salt to taste, then strained and a few kernels thrown back in. I suggest making it with nut milk and not straining it, that would help. just didn’t do it for me. I found the raw flavor of blended asparagus a little wild and slightly bitter. It had celery, onion and a host of other ingredients…something just seemed off, maybe my taste buds. Like my taste for husbands.

Below is a ranked list of our favorites:
Me#1: Celery Root Soup; Daniel#1. Asparagus
Me#2. Carrot Soup ; Daniel#2. Corn Soup
Me#3. Corn Soup ; Daniel #3. Carrot Soup
Me#4. Asparagus ; Daniel#4. Celery Root

Now I don’t know if you are getting the full irony here, but we are EXACT opposites! Celery Root my favorite – his least favorite. Asparagus my least favorite—his favorite. God help us.

I guess it is interesting being married to a guy who astonishes me with such confounding differences.

What I fell in love with, and still am in love with, are the wild seemingly grab-bag thoughts that blurt out of his mouth, the man who can write music and sing it to me right on the spot, the man who cares for our dogs like they are our children, and the man who wanted to build a life with me. He has made a home for me and even when I find him infuriating or irritating, I am not alone. He is there loving me, but in his way, not always mine, but loving me nonetheless. Like by doing the dishes.

Lives Beginning at 40 and Taco Friday

You know that saying...Life begins at 40? Being in my forties, I contemplate (and even experience) that from time to time. But for my girlfriend Justine, it is really, truly happening. She just turned 40 in June and now…she is pregnant! So life really is beginning at 40 for her in a Big Way. She had a whirlwind tour around the block this year with a) losing a career job; b) getting married; c) meanwhile having health problems and at least one surgery that I know about; d) pulling out her San Francisco roots and moving back home to Connecticut; e) traveling to Egypt for her honeymoon and getting deathly ill and now f) discovering she is 10 weeks pregnant!

What better way to celebrate in her honor than with Taco Friday? Friday night’s dinner began Thursday with beginning the dehydration process of the soaked flax and sunflower seeds, mixed with onion and spices to make the taco shells. I wasn’t confident at all that they’d taste good, or more importantly have that crunchy texture I wanted, but forward I went, Corona in hand.

This is a recipe for three styles of tacos: trumpet mushrooms and fresh corn with salsa vinaigrette; jicama and Asian pear with lime and avocado salsa; mango and tomatillo with cilantro and chili salsa. The tastiest was the Mango-Tomatilla Taco...this one I shall do again. But shockingly, the taco shells were crunchy and delicious! And very filling; all alive with omega 3's. We invited our neighbors Alane and Rick over (Alane being my fabulous compost teacher) . They ate every scrap and I took this as a good sign.

They don’t have kids either, and I think like us, it has caused them to embrace life in a different way than our parent-friends. Alane is involved in many projects involving sustainability, recycling and earth friendly endeavors including education…all this in addition to her day job as a gardener. After 40, she is just really starting to enjoy the respect of being a leader in her field and being involved in making a difference in our world. And me, realizing that I can be fullfulled without that son or daughter I knew I would have. I am living my life choices that I have carefully cultivated over the years and even though I still wish so much we could have raised a child, life is blooming in some beautiful ways I could have never imagined, and I can honor from a distance (with some relief, as I see how darn hard it is!) those friends who were blessed with the parenting path.

Dessert was my first attempt at a key lime pie, or what I describe as bitter-sour mealy pie. Looks good though, don’t it? And life goes on, and for all of us there are new beginnings, all the time. Congratulations, Justine and Aaron, and welcome to your Journey.
Rick, Alane and Daniel sitting down to Friday night tacos.

When Worlds Collide

It kept getting later and later trying to leave for our weekend road trip. I knew what was happening. We’d be on the road right at lunch time and I just could not get it together to make something healthy to eat for the road. Where does that leave us? I knew the answer. Each time we go on a road trip, we concede to fast food. When you are out of your environment, you have to make concessions, right? Afterall you have to live in the real world, right? It’s all in balance, I tell myself. This is where worlds collide. And it doesn't just happen in food. In fact, our choice of food is just a value. Isn't this the way human beings group themselves off from others, because they don't share their values or beliefs or practices? Is this why we kill each other? Not worth it, in my opinion, but I do see the value in grouping with like-minded people. It feels good.

I used to consider eating fast food almost a treat. It was kind of fun to have something so “bad” and for-sure I enjoyed the cheeseburger, fries and cola on the rare occasions my food options were so limited. But this time I knew I just couldn’t go there. I didn’t even want a cheeseburger. I really didn’t. I knew I would already be breaking my live diet at their party where there would be lots of typical American fare: meat, carbs and beer.

Which fast food place is the least junkish? If only we could find some local sandwich shop, it wouldn’t be as unhealthy as “fast” food, but finding something like that while zooming down the freeway at 70 isn’t feasible. Subway, I suggested. Husband nixed. Jack in the Box he suggested. Axed by me. What about Taco Bell, would that be so bad? After some bantering we settled on Wendy’s. Luckily they have a few veggie side dishes. As we checked out in line I noticed a chart of all their menu items with calorie and nutritional value listed. Interesting. I got the two items containing a few wee grams of fiber: a salad and baked potato. Was pretty darn happy with myself as I watched Daniel gorge down that gross, empty-caloried hamburger.

I refuse to live in a bubble, and I’m way too social to not join people for feasts. This diet thing, what we choose to eat, don’t eat, how we decide to treat our bodies…you just can’t take it all too seriously…it’s only life. Life is a banquet: eat, eat! I do draw the line at some things, though, like soft drinks, most fried or processed foods. However, for 46 years I’ve eaten meat. I’m a Texas girl where steak is king and ribs are venerated, so when we arrived up in the mountains at our friend’s remote cabin, where slow cooked ribs, bbq brisket and roasted turkey awaited, I stepped over into...The Other World.

It’s hard enough to maintain a living food diet in the Bay Area, heck, even in my own home, but where our friends live, there are only steak houses, fast food and barbeques. I decide in situations like this, that it’s better to be balanced than to be on some freakishly strict diet. So in the spirit of my Texan-ness (and weakness for savory home-cooked meat), I joined right in (a beer first, of course) on the tender ribs, potato chips, potato salad, bread, macaroni salad and other mouth-smacking, high-acid, non-fiberous, low nutritious, high carb and protein party food. I ate. And ate. And drank. Ate some more. And ate. Had another beer. I breaked half way through my fruit crumble to gnaw on some crusty bread and olive oil and then went back to my dessert. What was wrong with me?

I kept walking by the table and grazing on the potato chips, eyeing the spare ribs and thinking how I’d like to have another. Finally around 10 p.m. I allowed myself one last a spare rib as a “night cap.” I felt insatiable. I really felt like I could eat more, but I cut myself off after that. Geez, where’s the balance?

Is it that this food is so un-nutritional that you don’t feel satisfied and that’s why you feel like gorging? Or is it that I’m starving myself to death on this rabbit food and when I finally got to some real food my will to survive kicked in? I was afraid I’d wake up the next morning with a stomach ache. But thank goodness, I did not. I had danced in The Other World and crossed back with only a pot belly and bit of constipation. I started my morning, not by joining my comrades in coffee and cake, but blended up watermelon and drank a big glass. They all thought I was nuts.

Traveling back to the Bay Area, we stopped at the store. I ran straight for the produce section. Huge local, organic tomatoes, a parsnip, zucchini, avocado and cucumber. Daniel bought some red trout. For dinner we would have a stuffed tomatoes, cucumber soup and fish. I was back in My World again, at least for now safe from the temptations of the ribs, chips, chops and lox.

Textured Flavors of Food and Friend, Sarahndipity

Well, I’m closing in. Recipe 33. 18 recipes and more than thirty days left. I think I can do that. Whew. Man, I’m glad the pressure’s off. Now I can really take my time in planning the recipes and get more into quality versus rushing it in!

Last night’s recipe was Tomato, Rapini and Spring Legume Salad. A fabulous recipe, I recommend it. Crunchy beans, ever-so-slightly peppery rapini (broccoli rabe), tomatoes which are in their prime now, sweet fennel strands and a delicate and perfect mustard vinaigrette. See comment for recipe.

I’d like to dedicate this here recipe of many textures, colors and flavors, to an amazingly multi-textured, colorful, many-flavors of a woman I met about 15-16 years back who has made a remarkable impression on my life. She’s truly the smartest person I’ve ever been friends with; or who would even consider being friends with me, oh-one-of humble IQ origins. She has taught me how to look differently at life in a way no one else ever has. Because of her, I know have an astounding new template for this Universe, seeing connections and building my spirituality to new bounds. She is an artist, philosopher, writer, avid reader, lay-naturalist, self-taught scientist, book author, computer nerd, creator, cheerleader of all that is inspiring and good, and dreamer…boy, is she a dreamer!

Have you ever met a person who affected you on a deeper level than you ever imagined? It’s like how you feel when you catch the sight of a shooting star. It is spectacular and wondrous. That’s how I feel about Sarahndipity. She is my shooting star.

To see some of Sarah’s projects: http://www.graceartgroup.com/