salt spoon

to everything, there is a season

2007-08-09T16:15:00.000-07:00

Many thanks to each of you who have stayed in touch with me through the SaltSpoon blog. I enjoyed it, even though I wasn't exactly very prolific...

I'm now blogging with my sister over at www.bricolageandbutter.com.

Hope you enjoy it!

Lovin' that it's Wednesday

2007-02-14T20:41:00.000-08:00

Every Wednesday, I wake up and think the same three things, in the same order...meeting day, hump day and, of course, New York Times food section day! Valentine's day made an obvious fourth, and thanks to the holiday an especially interesting article was published in today's newspaper. I fully recommend at least a good skim of "He Cooks, She Stews, It's Love." Other noteworthy discoveries today include the album, Bajofondo Tango Club (new-age Cuban tango available on iTunes) and crazy plastic flatware from www.mossonline.com. Happy V-Day! xo.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/14/dining/14beta.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Village Bakery

2007-02-07T21:37:00.000-08:00

It’s not exactly private knowledge that I’ve been spending much of my time in Orange County lately. With a relocation to “the O.C.” on the horizon, exploring the local food outlets has been an activity of particular interest, and I’m relieved to report that we’ve found some great spots already.

In general, Southern California is not known for amazing food—something I find really surprising considering that Southern Californians are known for eating out frequently. As the new Wallpaper* City Guide Los Angeles quotes (one of many in a design-conscious series of guide books available through most major booksellers), “LA restaurant culture is not really about the food. With a few noble exceptions, the food will be decent, but it won’t be challenging. Hollywood socialites go for salads, tuna tartare, New York strip steak, sushi, French-Asian fusion – in short, food that won’t take any of the attention away from them.”

Thankfully, there are flaws in every stereotype, and my mission is to uncover the markets, bakeries, cafés and other small restaurants that defy this statement.

“The Camp” is Costa Mesa’s nod to the San Francisco North Bay in architecture, landscape design, vendors and overall spirit. Parking spaces are “quoted” rather than numbered, and most other details within the facility are also purposely extraordinary.

Within the shopping center is the Village Bakery, an ambient retail store that offers great breads, a good cup of tea and fabulous cookies for less than half the price we pay in NorCal.

Both websites are also great: http://www.thecampsite.com/ & http://www.villagebakerycostamesa.com/

San Francisco

2006-12-16T21:19:00.000-08:00

One area of serious deficiency in Yountville is variety…its proximity to the city is sometimes the only thing that makes the Valley bearable. It may be only 7x7 miles, but San Francisco has everything I need to refresh my mind, intellect…and palate. This morning my roommates and I set off through Sonoma Valley for the Golden Gate. We stopped at Corner Stone, www.cornerstonegardens.com —the best breakfast choice was Heidi’s season-inspired fruit cup with cinnamon granola. Our next stop was the de Young museum to see the Gee’s Bend Quilts exhibit. We felt incredibly lucky to learn that the quilters were present to promote the show, and the highlight of our visit was meeting them and having them sign our posters. Heidi mentioned that the de Young café was owned by the Bon Appétit Management Co. so we walked through to check out the menu before leaving…a good one for museum food—very reflective of North Bay cuisine—organic produce, Niman Ranch proteins (www.nimanranch.com), etc. Afterwards we headed next door to have tea at the Japanese Tea Garden. I decided that the experience is much more magical when you’re eleven years of age, but still it was fun to sit down for a while and enjoy each other’s company over carelessly-prepared Jasmine tea and Chinese fortune cookies. Our next stop was the Mission District, where we checked out the produce at La Loma Mexican Market and then walked across the street to La Taqueria. I was successful at getting Summer to try my burrito de lengua, but unsuccessful at persuading her to enjoy it. La Taqueria is on 24th & Mission and must make your hit list for the next time you pass through the area…their food is delicioso, not to mention barato. We walked up Mission to Old Jerusalem (Heidi’s favorite Isralean food) for some falafel and hummus—the best I’ve ever had—and then decided that we still had room for dessert... www.tartinebakery.com is my favorite bakery on earth. The three of us shared a chocolate éclair, coconut tart and latté. On our way back to the car we stopped at www.biritemarket.com for samples of blood oranges and pink lady apples…another amazing day in the city!

Runcible Spoon

2006-12-11T21:10:00.000-08:00

This evening I had a moment of curiosity come over me about something that I haven’t thought about in at least two decades—what is a runcible spoon? The infamous spoon is featured in what was my favorite book as a child, The Owl and the Pussycat (there are many versions, but the one you must borrow during your next Library visit is the version illustrated by Hilary Knight.) Originally a poem published in the 1800’s, the story is about an owl and a cat who fall in love and sail off to the land where the bong tree grows to wed. The best part of the story is when “they dine on mince and slices of quince” which they eat with a “runcible spoon.” Some quick internet research determined that such a spoon is nothing more than a “fictitious utensil that appears in the nonsense poetry of Edward Lear.” Unwilling to be left disappointed, I further searched to uncover that a runcible spoon is generally defined as a fork with three prongs (similar to a pickle fork), is curved like a spoon and also has a cutting edge. So my question is…has anyone seen such a thing? And if you’ve been so fortunate to have used one, I’ll exchange you a dramatic citation of said poem to hear your story!

Diet Coke

2006-08-19T12:29:00.000-07:00

As someone who rarely partakes of soft drinks, it's difficult to pen this title and not follow it with a lengthy spout-off about the political and nutritional evilness of the above-named delicacy. Having said that, I promise to keep it short...

What do Diet Coke + Mentos have in common with the Bellagio Hotel & Casino? Turn up your volume and click below to find out:

http://www.eepybird.com/dcm1.html

What I’ve ate since March…

2006-08-09T23:22:00.000-07:00

8 places I’ve been…
· Santa Monica
· Carmel
· New York City
· Mountain Ranch
· La Quinta
· Bakersfield
· Laguna Beach
· San Diego

8 places I’ve dined…
· The Lodge at Pebble Beach
· Boulette’s Larder, SF Ferry Market
· Jean-George’s Spice Market
· Café Gray
· Andrew Carmellini’s A Voce
· Quince
· Redd
· Bluehill (Greenwich Village)

8 things I’ve done…
· Body surfed at PB in San Diego
· Started making red wine vinegar in a barrel in my garage
· Attended my great-grandmother’s 90th birthday
· Hired a culinary assistant for the restaurant—he is awesome
· Killed the dwarf bay leaf tree that used to reside on my porch
· Co-hosted a bridal shower for my sister, complete with a "what not to wear on your wedding night" fashion show
· Started a subscription to Blueprint magazine
· Took a semester of Tuesday night drawing classes

8 websites I’ve found…
· www.jasperconran.com
· www.seejanework.com
· www.goldenbleu.com
· www.stonebarnscenter.org
· www.aubergade.com
· www.basicfrenchonline.com
· www.ozocar.com
· www.yurdan.com

Blue Bottle Coffee Co.

2006-03-27T22:13:00.000-08:00

If I ever move away from Northern California, the single thing I will miss the most is quick and easy access to the Funky. Growing up, it didn’t take me very long to realize that my family used that word more liberally than the rest of the block. One or two raised eyebrows of other parents as the word belted out from my sister or I and a few brief looks of confused, semi-shock from school friends at the sound of it breaking from my Dad, and I subtly realized that this bit of vocabulary leaned toward abnormal.

To us, funky was beyond “different”—it meant eclectic, fascinatingly obscure, admirable. If something easily discounted as distasteful was instead deemed funky by one of us, the other three automatically gave it a greater sense of worth and dutifully scrutinized it in defense or debate of its so-called funkiness. Our family spent much time discovering many of the communities around the Bay together. From Mendocino to Monterey, we day-tripped to meet vendors of little shops selling feathers and sea shells, architectural books, antique furnishings, artisan foods, hand-dyed ribbons, one-of-a-kind treasures—and, as one merchant to this day describes her offerings, a “mysterious accumulation of the weird and wonderful.”

Now that the rest of my family has moved to SoCal, I’ve taken it upon myself to keep up the tradition of weekend wandering—partially out of habit, and partially because it’s great fun to dangle some tidbit story in front of them about an interesting new spot, when all they have in return is a recent article ranking Kentucky Fried as the #1 spot to eat chicken in Orange County. So, eat up you three…

When it comes to coffee, what can get more funky than a store front on the back alley of Hayes Street in SF? Roll-up the metal garage door and step up to Blue Bottle’s coffee bar. It may block your way to work, if you’ve come to build furniture in the woodshop filling the rest of the space, but for the rest of us, it’s artisan micro-roasting at it’s finest, not to mention the best latté in San Francisco (complete with steamed milk leaf décor).

Below, an excerpt from www.bluebottlecoffee.net:

The Story of Blue Bottle Coffee Company
In the late 1600s, the Turkish army swept across much of Eastern and Central Europe, arriving at Vienna in 1683. Besieged and desperate, the Viennese needed an emissary who could pass through Turkish lines to get a message to the nearby Polish troops. Franz George Kolshitsky, who spoke Turkish and Arabic, took on the assignment disguised in a Turkish uniform. After many perilous close calls, Kolshitsky completed his valiant deed, returning to give the Viennese the news of the Poles' imminent rescue of their city. On September 13, the Turks were repelled from Vienna, leaving everything they brought: camels, tents, honey, and strange bags of beans which were thought to be camel feed. Kolshitsky, having lived in the Arab world for several years, knew these were bags of coffee. Using the money bestowed on him by the mayor of Vienna for his heroic deed, Kolshitsky bought the Turks' coffee, opened Central Europe's first coffee house (The Blue Bottle), and brought coffee to a grateful Vienna.

319 years later, in Oakland, California, a slightly disaffected freelance musician and coffee lunatic, weary of the grande eggnog latte, and the double skim pumpkin-pie macchiato, decides to open a roaster for people who are clamoring for the actual taste of freshly roasted coffee. Using a miniscule six-pound batch roaster, he makes an historic vow: "I will only sell coffee less than 48 hours out of the roaster to my customers, so they may enjoy coffee at its peak of flavor. I will only use the finest organic, and pesticide-free, shade-grown beans. If they can't come to me, I will drive to their house to give them the freshest coffee they have ever tasted." In honor of Kolshitsky's heroics, he names his business The Blue Bottle Coffee Company, and begins another chapter in the history of superlative coffee.

(yeah, that's funky).

Vintage Food Posters

2006-03-23T20:45:00.000-08:00

Although many friends and family think my world revolves around food, I'm happy to report that (despite the blog) my interests are really quite varied. Still, it's always grand when you stumble onto something that involves many of your interests all at once, and this website fits the description for me--graphic design, food, vintage pieces...Someone recently shared it with me, and for those who also find vintage travel/industry-specific posters interesting, I thought I'd pass it along to you as well: www.internationalposter.com

Goin' to Lucques

2006-03-15T22:52:00.000-08:00

Darting through the hustling Kitchen, my sight sometimes clears from the battalion of vague white coats that line the counters and stove tops. I cease to be distracted by a flashing knife, instead seeing the scarred hand that holds it. That hand neighbors another pair of hands which neighbor another cook and then another. My mind wanders from my own mission and instead I think of each chef leading a separate life, aspiring to a different dream. What path brought them here? Which ones wish to stay? What kind of kitchen do the others hope to lead one day?

And then someone does leave. They open their own place or partner with another to live out their dream. They do well or they do okay and their restaurant is different than you expected, or maybe it’s exactly as you expected. They take what they’ve gleaned from other kitchens and correct it with their own view—still, it’s somehow reminiscent of that kitchen you once shared with them.

A Saturday or two ago I stopped in at the café at Chez Panisse for lunch. Simple, seasonal, organic fare for some-odd 30 years…think of how many cooks have passed through that kitchen, how many chefs can name Alice Waters as their mentor.

I cracked open a borrowed copy of Sunday Suppers at Lucques (by Suzanne Goin, past chef at Chez Panisse) for the first time last week. I soaked it up—the content, stories, philosophy, the fresh, simple, seasonal recipes. Then, on a whim, we roadtripped to LA on Saturday. Sitting down to our dinner at Lucques, I was more than excited. The menu read very well—“spiced lamb tartare with fried chickpeas, oil-cured olives and cumin flatbread” definitely a must. But for the entrée? A toss-up. Sea bass, purple artichokes, potatoes and anchovy-black olive butter made its way to my side of the table, but only after negotiating for some traded quince paste and suckling pig swirled around in garlic-paprika oil. In the end it was disappointing. Too large of portions, too much seasoning or not enough, but mostly—too much going on in one dish (does a single salad need the entire avocado?) Someday I'll return--you can't judge a book by its cover, right? And certainly, not a book by its restaurant...

http://www.lucques.com/

(graphics great, navigation not so great)

Sonoma Farmer's Market

2006-03-04T22:10:00.000-08:00

“On the park’s western side….there was the Ostrich Guy, an older white-bearded man in a white T-shirt and a hat with ostrich feathers. He sold frozen cuts of ostrich meat from his free-range ranch…He also sold fresh ostrich eggs for twelve dollars each. The eggs were the size of footballs. They looked as though they were laid by dinosaurs. There were two ways to cook an ostrich egg, the farmer said. You could hard-boil it, which took about three or four hours given its size, or you could panfry it up in a scramble or omelet and that way it cooked about as quickly as the usual diminutive chicken eggs. The catch was that one ostrich egg equaled something like four dozen chicken eggs…” Tale of Two Valleys, Alan Deutschman (I’m on page 47).

Whole Hog & Nothing but the Hog

2006-02-27T18:44:00.000-08:00

When a beast is slaughtered, its hind legs are knotted together and its body swings downward while the hooves are tightened to some out-of-the-way level. A main artery is cut, the animal’s blood drains out and the being simply dies.

This is not exactly a thought I have every day, and certainly it was the last thing on my mind being led up the stairs last Thursday to take part in Oliveto’s “Whole Hog” dinner. The journey from field to butcher block is one I’m pleased to know little about—my unfamiliarity with the careful separation of body parts and immediate chilling even more of a thrill for me.

Nevertheless, I found myself sitting at a table set for nine, delightedly reviewing the most focal menu I’ve ever been presented. All around me friends were ordering fried trotters, pickled ears, blood pudding and kidney with peppercress. Over a shared platter of Paul Bertolli’s well-known salumi, I finally settled on the Warm Pork Tongue, Artichokes and Herbs antipasto followed by Braised Pork Belly Stuffed with Fennel and Green Olives.

Criss-crossing our plates from one end of the table to the other, we each sacrificed bites to garner tastes of every dish--until, from ear to entrail, we had partook of the whole hog.

(Happy 26th, Scotty & farewell, Rachael—what a memorable evening to commemorate.)

www.oliveto.com/wholehogdinner06.html

The Immaculate Connection

2006-02-27T00:56:00.000-08:00

Few things in my life can worthily be deemed ironic, but many are reminiscent of the silly writing exercises my past English instructors called Circle Poetry.

You may remember these simple lists--begin with any one word and continue writing random words vertically down your page until you reach a word that somehow relates to the first. A connection is established, the circle completed and hopefully your reader marvels at the relation.

For me, connection is one of the most exciting parts about living: contact with another, the evocation of a memory, a deeper meaning, a funnier joke...and, if nothing else, can certainly be inspiring.

This morning I woke up with the thought about starting a food blog. For various reasons the thought drifted away and I instead did many other things at random. Then, as the day closed, I read through the March issue of Food & Wine magazine and stumbled upon an article dedicated to food bloggers...so there you have it. It's almost 1:00am and here I am.

In his article, "In the Belly of the Blog," Pete Wells advises bloggers to:

Communicate passion
Have consequences and outline something at stake
Be timely and keep current with the news of the world you cover
Have a sense of purpose

I make no promises. www.foodandwine.com