Marla in the Kitchen

Calcutta: Idlis and sambar

2012-02-10T15:58:54Z

I can’t seem to get off soup: must be the weather—gray, drippy, and cold. Soup—does a body good. Anyways, here another. This time we travel to the south of India with a recipe for sambar from J., a former 501 resident. J. grew up in Calcutta in a middle-class family with two working parents and five siblings. As the oldest son, he was marked for college and enrolled in Stanford as a math major. He loved living in California, couldn’t get enough of the beaches, the girls, and the movies.

After graduation, he took a job at a Seattle software company. When the company opened an office in Tacoma, he moved and rented one of the units in our condominium. He made plenty of money (most of which he sent home), had an American girlfriend whose parents were born in India, and looked forward to an American life complete with wife, children, and real estate.

He hadn’t, however, counted on being consistently homesick. He missed his mother, he missed Calcutta, he missed hot weather, and most of all, he missed being part of an extended family community. “I could walk out of my bedroom and be part of the family—part of my sister’s family, part of my uncle’s family, part of my parent’s family.

Jay and I visited often, talking about Indian food, his mother’s recipes, Calcutta, and his nieces. He went home every six months to visit and to renew his visa, but it wasn’t enough. One day he stopped by, with a long face and a sad story. The Cliff Note version: girlfriend could not imagine ever living in India, was lukewarm about even six months there, and instead looked ahead to an American life in an American city in an American house, with an American husband. Jay misssed his old life to much to give it up, so he moved back to Calcutta. Before he left, he gave me his mother's recipe for sambar and idlis (disc-shaped semolina pattys, similar to flat matzo balls.

2 Tbs. oil
1 tsp. black mustard seeds
1 cup regular uncooked cream of wheat
3 Tbs. ground coconut
¾ tsp. salt
1 to 2 chilies, minced
1 ½ cup plain yogurt

Heat 2 Tbs. oil in skillet over medium heat. When oil is hot, put in mustard seeds. When seeds pop, turn heat to medium-low and put in cream of wheat. Sauté for 2-3 minutes—do not brown. Remove skillet from fire. Add coconut, salt, and chilies. Mix and cool slightly. Add yogurt—you should have a thick batter.

Place idli molds over boiling water and steam for 20 minutes.

Sambar

Sambar powder

1 part coriander seeds
½ part cumin seeds
½ part mustard seeds
½ part fenugreek seeds
3 cloves
¼ part black peppercorns
1/8 part red chile flakes
½ roll whole cinnamon
¼ cup ground coconut

Roast above ingredients in skillet over medium heat until seeds release aroma. Let cool slightly, grind in spice grinder

Sambar

½ cup red lentils
2 cups stock or water
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 tablespoon oil
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup coconut milk
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 tablespoon minced ginger
½ teaspoon red chili flakes
2 tablespoons sambar powder
½ onion, fine dice
1 zucchini, diced
2 carrots, diced
1/8 cabbage, diced
¼ head cauliflower, cut in small florets
½ can tomato sauce
1 cup chicken stock
1 tablespoon tamarind paste

Wash lentils and bring 2 cups stock/water to a boil. Add lentils, turmeric, oil, and salt. Turn heat down to simmer, and cook until lentils are soft 45-60 minutes. Add ½ cup coconut milk, cook 10 more minutes.

Sauté, garlic, ginger, chili flakes, sambar powder in 1 tablespoon oil and 1 teaspoon salt until garlic is transparent and soft. Add onions, carrots, cabbage, zucchini, and cauliflower. Add tomato sauce, cook 10 minutes. Add chicken stock and tamarind, simmer for 15 minutes.

Add cooked lentils, simmer 15 minutes.

Place small scoop cooked rice and several idlis in the bottom of a soup bowl. Ladle sambar over them. Serve with yogurt and chopped cilantro.

To get us into the mood, here are a few photos from India, taken by my friend Patty.

Soup glorious soup: tomato, Thai pork dumpling, crab gumbo, Swiss onion

2012-01-25T19:12:06Z

Soup was on the menu in every restaurant I've worked. In several, it was spelled soup du jour but it was still soup: clam chowder and lentil at Sound Food, albondigas at the Border Grill, Swiss onion and Thai pork dumpling at City Restaurant, crab gumbo at the Dahlia. I never cared much for cold soup--it seems a conflict of interest. Soup conjures up snowsuit kids stomping in from the cold for lunch or men in Levis sitting on the tailgate of a Chevy truck pouring hot soup from a Thermos.

Soup making skills secured my first kitchen job in Los Angeles. In August, 1982 Bob took a job with a small software company in Santa Monica and moved down from Vashon. I followed in September and, as our rent quadrupled, lost no time finding a job. We lived in Westwood near UCLA, an area packed with people who didn't cook but loved to eat.

I made the rounds in Westwood Village with resume in hand and late one rainy afternoon I hesitated for a long time at the elegant entrance of Stratton's--a brick Tudor building with a gated courtyard. I dripped into the lobby, asked to see the chef, and followed the maitre' d to the bar.

Courtyard outside Stratton's, now part of the Geffen Playhouse. Picture from Flikr--name of photographer not given.

Dennis (tall, dark, and handsome) sprawled on a stool, cigarette in mouth (Dennis smoked wherever he wanted) and drink in hand. He ignored my damp resume and asked, "What can you do?"

"I can cook, I can't bake, I always show up, and I don't do drugs."

"Sounds good, go make soup for tonight."

"What kind?"

"You tell me."

"Chicken vegetable ?"

"No."

"Lentil?"

"No."

"Tomato?"

"Yes. Follow Lenart, he'll give you some whites to wear."

My first lesson in big city restaurants: always make cream soups, they hold up better during service. Anyways, I made the soup, got the job, and started down that particular path.

Some months later, Dennis, Linda (the diminutive but spunky night chef), and I were recalling my trial by fire. Linda said, "You were lucky--he poured my first soup into the garbage."

Dennis said, "No you both were lucky. I once worked for a German chef who, if he didn't like your soup, would pour it out on the floor and leave the room."

There's always someone worse.

So here are a few soups. Thanks to Lara for requesting a tomato soup recipe--this is your basic restaurant version. Milliken/Feniger added the Pernod touch.

Tomato Soup

2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, julienned or sliced
1 large fennel bulb (optional) you can also use ½-1 teaspoons fennel seeds
2 teaspoons salt
½ teaspoon white pepper
½ cup Pernod (optional)
2-3 ripe tomatoes, seeded & chopped or 1 can diced-in-juice tomatoes (best quality possible)
2 cups chicken stock
½ cup heavy cream
½ cup half & half
Dash of Tabasco

Trim fennel, discarding stem. Thinly slice stalks.

Melt butter over moderate heat in large stockpot or Dutch oven. Add onions and cook with salt and pepper until soft, about 10 minutes. Add fennel, reduce heat to low, cook additional ten minutes.

Add Pernod and reduce liquid by half. Add tomatoes and chicken stock. Reduce to simmer and cook, covered about 20 minutes.

Puree in a blender until smooth. Return to pot and add cream and half and half. Bring to a boil, simmer 5 minutes, remove from heat. Add Tabasco.

Fennel bulb and Pernod are optional. I usually don’t have either so almost always make the soup without. Good quality canned tomatoes are preferred, but I often use regular old grocery store Hunt's. The imported Italian ones are the best but cost plenty more—San Marzano or Muir Glen are both good brands.

Heavy cream and half and half make for a silky delicious soup, but you can substitute less caloric milk for part of the dairy or leave it out and use only stock. Thin to your preference.

Restaurants make many variations on this method for soup of the day, substituting any other vegetable: broccoli, mushroom, spinach, asparagus, potato/leek, squash, beet, carrot, etc.

City Restaurant ashtray, slipped into a pocket. Picture from the blog "100 Miles".

Thai Pork Dumpling Soup

Cilantro Pesto:
• 1 bunch chopped cilantro
• 1 tablespoon fresh minced ginger
• 1 tablespoon chopped garlic
• 2 teaspoons ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoons palm or brown sugar
Puree ingredients in blender until smooth.

• ½ # shitake or woodear mushrooms, cleaned and julienne. If using dried, soak until soft, then remove woody stem and slice.

Pork Dumplings:
• 1 # ground pork
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch

Combine ingredients and form into 1 inch meatballs.

Soak rice noodles 15 minutes in warm water then drain. Either break noodles into manageable pieces before you soak, or after soaking, cut into pieces with scissors and reserve.

Brown meatballs, remove from pan.

Add shitake mushrooms to pan, sauté until soft and remove.

Add the drained, cut noodles to pan, brown, and remove.

Add chicken stock to pan, bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer.

Add meat balls, cook 10 minutes. Add mushrooms and noodles, cook 10 minutes.

Reserving some pesto for garnish, stir remainder of pesto into stock/meatball/noodle/mushroom mixture. Serve with dollop of cilantro pesto and thinly sliced green onions.

This Swiss Onion Soup is a Susan Feniger recipe. I once made it to serve for lunch at City Restaurant and decided (on the sly) to deglaze the pan with wine after sauteing the onions. Susan walked along the line before service, tasting everything as she always did, tried the soup, looked at me and said, "Why did you deglaze the pan with wine? This is Swiss onion soup not French onion soup."

Busted--she has amazing tongue buds

Swiss Onion Soup

1/4 cup unsalted butter
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon white pepper

4 slices day old white bread or 1/2 loaf French bread, crusts removed

5 cups milk
1/2 # Swiss or gruyere cheese, diced

Melt butter over moderate heat in a Dutch oven. Cook onions with salt and pepper until soft but not colored, 15 minutes.

Cut the bread into medium dice and add to the pot. Stir constantly for five minutes or until the bread absorbs the butter.

Add milk and bring to boil. Add cheese, stir, and reduce to simmer. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, for 1 hour.

P.S. I still like the soup better if you deglaze the pan with white wine after you saute the onions.

Dahlia Lounge

Crab Gumbo

• 2 diced carrots
• 2 celery stalks, diced
• 2 onions, diced
• 1 green pepper, diced
• 1 red pepper, diced
• 2 sliced leeks
• 1 potato, diced

• 2 T. garlic
• 2 t. thyme
• 1 t. oregano
• 1 t. basil
• 2 t. paprika
• 1 t. cayenne
• 1 t. dry mustard

• 1 can diced-in-juice tomatoes
• 4 cups chicken stock

Brown Roux:
½ c. oil
½ c. flour
Heat oil until smoking, add flour. Have ingredients and utensils lined up before you start. This is a dangerous process, and the chances of getting “lava” burns are extreme, so take care. When the oil is hot, add flour and start whisking. The goal of a dark brown roux will probably take 5-10 minutes to achieve. Roux can be made ahead.

Gumbo:
Sauté vegetables, herbs, and spices in oil. Add garlic—sauté.

Add tomatos and simmer for ten minutes. Add stock and bring to a boil, turn down to simmer.

Add brown roux, a spoon at a time until desired thickness is achieved. Let simmer for 45 minutes. Add cleaned crab before serving and garnish with red pepper rouille.

A marshmallow world: Turkey noodle soup and cornbread

2012-01-18T19:23:00Z

Last night, the snow-mongers breathlessly predicted 4-10 inches of snow today. They've been wrong before, but this time they delivered a winter wonderland as promised. Snow brings such quiet to the neighborhood, a quiet made even more silent by the lack of action on the sidewalks and the streets: the occasional reluctant dog walker, a ruddy-cheeked young couple out for an adventure, and Bob--never one to miss his morning walk.

Who knew that just down the block, Maria and Jim were building a day-glo igloo, ready for occupancy by morning's end. Most commuters have gratefully excepted the weather wizards advise to stay home and are hunkered down with a bowl of soup, a good book, a video game, a movie, or some other acceptable indoor recreation. It's not fit for man nor beast out there today.

It is, however, a perfect day to make soup and bake bread. As I'm not much of a baker, I'll stick with soup.

Turkey Noodle Soup

Put cooked turkey bones, neck, wing tips, and tail in a tall heavy-bottomed stock pot. Cover with cold water. Add large pieces of celery, one onion cut into quarters, two carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks, one or two bay leaves, a sprinkle of thyme, and a small handful of peppercorns. Bring to a boil, turn down immediately and simmer until bones are soft and easily separated--probably 2-3 hours.

Turn off, let cool for 15 minutes, then strain. Any turkey meat cooked that long is not be worth saving. Bring broth back to a simmer, salt to taste, skim to remove as much fat as possible, and let broth reduce at a medium simmer for 15 minutes.

Add fresh diced carrots, celery, onion and, if you're willing to spare some, leftover mashed potatoes, gravy, and dressing make stellar additions. Simmer for 15-20 minutes or until vegetables are done.

Add cooked noodles and diced or shredded turkey meat.

Cornbread

3 eggs
3 c. sour cream
1/3 c. oil
2 ¼ c. cornmeal
2 t. salt
2 T. sugar
1 t. baking powder
6 diced serranos
1 bunch sliced green onions
1 ½ c. shredded cheddar cheese

Mix eggs, sour cream and oil. Add cornmeal, salt, sugar, baking powder—mix only until combined. Fold in serranos, green onions and cheese.

Bake 20 minutes in 350° oven.

Oh yes, I'm missing those surfer dudes now.

Which is better, number 1?

Or number 2?

Number 1?

or number 2?

Number 1?

or number 2?

Number 1?

or number 2?

We do love a good season.

Out of the dark, into the light: Semi-Sicilian Menu

2012-01-16T21:24:34Z

"The winter solstice occurs exactly when the axial tilt of Earth's polar hemisphere is farthest away from the sun." For centuries, rituals, festivals, and holidays marked the resurgence of the winter Sun. Stonehenge is thought to provide a portal to view the sunset of the year's shortest day. In 46 BC, Julius Caesar established the Julian calendar and set December 25 as the day of the European winter solstice. Pagans, worldwide, once gathered to banish the cold and celebrate being halfway to the warmth of the longest day.

Not wanting to ignore centuries-old traditions, we have a little soiree the day before Martin Luther King Day to celebrate the return of the light. By the middle of January, the gradual lenthening of the day is a certainty. I don't turn the living room lamps on until 4:45 or so, the City of Tacoma's hideous orange day-glo street lights don't go on until 5:00, the sun rises spectacularly between 7:00 and 7:15 am, and grape hyacinths pop up, brashly ignoring the 30 degree nights.

We skipped last years' event so are really ready this year with a Semi Sicilian-based menu. Years ago I watched Mario Batali make arancini and planned everything around that memory. I found the recipe he used, added several dishes I'd made successfully before and eventually went with the menu below. I thought I was the first to know about arancini. Imagine my surprise when I saw them for sale both at Costco and Trader Joes. Once again, I'm the last to know.

BTW, I'm almost sure Costo's or TJ'swould be as good as mine and certainly easier. For heaven sakes, Batali's recipe starts with, "6 1/2 cups leftover risotto." Really?? Leftover risotto?

ANTIPASTO PLATE
ARANCINI WITH TOMATO SAUCE
BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP WITH SAGE CROUTONS
TUSCAN BREAD SALAD
SICILIAN CHICKEN CANZANESE
ORZO WITH SPINACH
MANGO PANNA COTTA

Winter solstice, courtesy of Flickr

My friend Jim's picture of a 2011 December sunset in Grayland, WA

Sunrise off Lake Superior, December 2010

December sunset in La Jolla CA, 2007

Here are the recipes I used for the sort of Sicilian menu. All are fairly easy and more than tasty. The mango panna cotta is a real keeper.

Roasted Pepper Salad:

2 red bell peppers

2 orange bell pepper

1/3 cup pitted kalamata olives, thinly sliced

1/4 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons drained capers

6 fresh basil leaves, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the broiler. Cover a heavy baking sheet with foil. Arrange the bell peppers on the baking sheet. Broil until the skins brown and blister, turning the peppers over occasionally, about 15 minutes. Enclose the peppers in a resealable plastic bag. Set aside until cooled to room temperature, about 20 minutes.

Peel, seed, and cut the peppers into 1/2-inch thick strips. Toss the pepper strips, olives, oil, capers, basil, garlic, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl to combine. Cover and refrigerate up to 2 days.

Tuscan white bean spread

2 15 oz cans white beans, rinsed and drained

2 teaspoons coarse sea salt (Fleur de sel)- or to taste

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 tablespoons water

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

roasted garlic

1 tablespoon flat leaf parsley

1 tablespoon fresh Rosemary

1 tablespoon fresh Thyme

Place all ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and blend until smooth. Serve with sliced French baguettes or grilled pita bread

ARANCINI
(Worked just fine to fry in the morning, keep at room temperature, and reheat in a 350 degree oven ten minutes before serving.)

6 cups pre-cooked rice (leftover risotto works well or even leftover plain rice from take-out)

2 eggs, plus 4 eggs separated

1 cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano or Parmesan, plus more for grating

Pinch of red chile flakes, plus more to taste

1 bunch mint coarsely chopped, leaves and stems and all, 2 tablespoons reserved for garnish

1 pound fresh mozzarella cheese, cut into small cubes

2 cups panko or breadcrumbs for coating

oil for frying

Salt, to taste

Place the cooked rice in a large mixing bowl. Add 2 whole eggs and 4 egg yolks. Then mix in pecorino, sea salt, chile flakes and mint. Set the egg whites aside.

After ingredients are thoroughly mixed, form into 2.5” to 3” diameter balls, filling center of balls with several pieces of cheese (or any other filling of your choosing).

In each of 3 shallow bowls, place flour, egg whites and breadcrumbs. Whisk the egg whites briefly to loosen them. Roll each ball in egg whites, then in breadcrumbs. Place balls on a tray, and refrigerate uncovered for one hour.

Heat 4 inches of olive oil in a deep fryer or a pot to 350 F. CAUTION – don't fill pot above two thirds full.

Carefully place 3 balls at a time into pot and fry until golden brown, about 3 to 4 minutes, stirring with a kitchen spoon to keep them moving.

Using a spider or a slotted spoon, drain cooked balls on paper towels. Serve hot or at room temperature. Finish with grated pecorino cheese, chile flakes and mint.

Chicken Canzanese

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 ounces prosciutto (1/4 inch thick), cut into 1/4-inch cubes (bacon is a less expensive alternative)

4 medium garlic cloves , sliced thin lengthwise

8 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (about 3 pounds)

Ground black pepper

2 teaspoons unbleached all-purpose flour

2 cups dry white wine

1 cup chicken broth

4 whole cloves

1(4-inch) sprig fresh rosemary , leaves removed and minced fine (about 1/2 teaspoon), stem reserved

12 whole fresh sage leaves

2 bay leaves

1/4-1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

Juice from 1 lemon

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Heat 1 teaspoon oil in 12-inch heavy-bottomed oven-safe skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add prosciutto and cook, stirring frequently, until just starting to brown, about 3 minutes. Add garlic slices and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic is golden brown, about 1½ minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer garlic and prosciutto to small bowl and set aside. Do not rinse pan.

Increase heat to medium-high; add remaining 2 teaspoons oil and heat until just smoking. Pat chicken dry with paper towels and season with ground black pepper. Add chicken, skin side down, and cook without moving until well browned, 5 to 8 minutes. Using tongs, turn chicken and brown on second side, about 5 minutes longer. Transfer chicken to large plate.

Remove all but 2 tablespoons fat from pan. Sprinkle flour over fat and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 minute. Slowly add wine and broth; bring to simmer, scraping bottom of pan with wooden spoon to loosen browned bits. Cook until liquid is slightly reduced, 3 minutes. Stir in cloves, rosemary stem, sage leaves, bay leaves, red pepper flakes, and reserved prosciutto and garlic. Nestle chicken into liquid, skin side up (skin should be above surface of liquid), and bake, uncovered, until meat offers no resistance when poked with fork but is not falling off bones, about 1 hour 15 minutes. (Check chicken after 15 minutes; broth should be barely bubbling. If bubbling vigorously, reduce oven temperature to 300 degrees.)

Using tongs, transfer chicken to serving platter and tent with foil. Remove and discard sage leaves, rosemary stem, cloves, and bay leaves. Place skillet over high heat and bring sauce to boil. Cook until sauce is reduced to 1¼ cups, 2 to 5 minutes. Off heat, stir in minced rosemary, lemon juice, and butter. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour sauce around chicken and serve.

Mango Panna Cotta:

1/4 cup whole milk

1 cup mango pulp

1 tablespoon unflavored powdered gelatin

3 cups heavy cream

1/2 cup sugar

Pinch of salt

Mango Sauce:

1/2 cup mango pulp

1/4 cup sugar

1 tablespoon lime juice

Panna Cotta:

Place the milk, gelatin and mango puree in a blender. Blend until smooth.
Pour milk mixture into a small pan and stir over medium heat, about 5 minutes.

Add the cream, sugar, and salt. Stir until the sugar dissolves, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from the heat.

Pour into 6 glasses or ramekins so that they are about 1/2 full. Refrigerate until set, at least 4 hours. Spoon the mango sauce on top and serve.

Mango sauce:

Place all the ingredients in a small sauce pan and cook stirring often for about 10 minutes or until a syrup consistency.

Santa Cruz Nice

2012-01-07T20:09:31Z

Now, when someone mentions Santa Cruz, I too will get that soft, smiley look on my face. I felt at home here from the start. Santa Cruz has that Vashon Island feel: a slower pace, a distinct local culture, plenty of small funky houses, an active art scene, and coffee on every corner. The difference between the two is more a case of addition than subtraction. Santa Cruz has surfer dudes, bare legs/feet, sunny days, lots more restaurants, off-kilter residents who are inclined to rant, gesture, and mumble, and a bus system that takes them and you anywhere.

Last year we were in Minnesota expecting to feel and see that "Minnesota Nice"...didn't happen for me. But here in Santa Cruz, every expedition I took out the door provided another example of California courtesy.

One day on my way to the beach, a bicycle-riding, ranting, gesturing, tattered man rode by shouting at me. Following Bob's instructions to "never make eye contact", I just walked along and ignored him. Walking toward me, a tall, young man asked, "Is that man bothering you? Don't pay any attention to him, he has issues" and waited with me until the ranter was down the block.

Regardless of age, religion, gender, race, sexual persuasion, or political party, every time I entered a crosswalk, busy car traffic stopped, made eye contact, and gestured for me to walk on through, then smiled. Now before we get all warm and fuzzy about Santa Cruzarians: also without exception, anyone on a bicycle, skateboard, in-line skates, or scooter completely ignored me and whizzed perilously by, without warning. Apparently they aren't required to sign the pledge.

Anyways, I loved Pie Ranch, Sunny Cove, the Aloha Island Grill, Gayle's Bakery, East Cliff Drive, Capitola Village, Mr. Kebab, the Fairfield Inn housekeepers, the Museum of Art and History, the #55 bus, the New Leaf Organic Grocery, the Pleasure Point surfers, Half Moon Bay, fish tacos at Johnny's Harborside, and walking in the sunshine.

So we've returned to the Northwest--back to winter, rain, and home. We've been catching up with family, visiting with our neighbors, sorting through the mail, sleeping in our own bed, cooking meals, washing clothes without scrounging quarters, and looking out more than one window. Bob misses the hot tub, I miss ice cubes at the end of the hall, clean sheets three times a week, sunny weather, a bus that stops at the front door, a free newspaper, the sweet housekeeping staff, and having no responsibility.

We don't miss the hotel's erratic heating/cooling system, the lack of hot water in the morning, living in one room, eating out, Bob's 4:45 am wake-up call, using the bathroom for a kitchen, or the thump, thump of children running up and down the hall. I'd gladly live in Capitola but certainly don't want to move.

Homes along the Santa Cruz harbor

Santa Cruz Harbor

The Yacht Club on Woods Lagoon

The view from Johnny's Harborside restaurant

The following pictures are examples of Santa Cruz weird. Don't know who, why, or what's up with the heads. Cindy, from the Santa Cruz Art League, said the artist who makes them has been populating his roof and windows with different faces for years.

The "climbing wall" on the side of a bakery along the harbor

Fried Rice and Fa La La

2012-01-02T22:02:11Z

Last week while eating out with a group of Bob's work friends, the subject of Christmas traditions came up. No one seemed to be a regular church goer, but as the question rounded the table each person had a personal Christmas story to tell.

Chris, "My mother is a terrible cook and always resented being stuck in the kitchen all day making Christmas dinner. One year my middle sister and I took over the stove, forced my mother out, and divvied up the cooking chores. That night, for the first time, our family sat down to a pleasant--no pans thrown, no yelling--edible meal. She (my mother) has never gone back in."

Clementine, "I'm from Jamaica, and every Christmas Eve after midnight mass, we stay up all night drinking sorrel and baking Christmas bread."

Audra, "I grew up in a low-country Georgia Gullah community, where every house on the block belongs to a family member--a family member who is a great cook. So Christmas day is a huge block party with okra soup, fried turkey, oyster pilau, hoppin' John, and sweet potato pie."

Fortunately, Bob and I were sitting at the end of the queue. The wheels in my brain whirred as I tried to spin a Hallmark moment. I haven't spent Christmas with my kids since they were little, I usually worked during Christmas, Bob and I have moved regularly and never put down deep community roots, and we've spent the last two holidays in a hotel room...but there had to be something.

There was that first year in LA when we took boloney sandwiches, Hershey bars, and boxed wine to the beach; or what about that winter in San Diego with our Cuban renter and his mother; oh and that year with the Fostermiglias when Gretchen fell down the front steps, yes and don't forget that freezing trip from Olympia to Bellingham on Tommy's boat, drinking schnapps to stay warm.

Inevitably, it was our turn...all eyes were on Bob. "Chinese food", he said. "We try to eat Chinese food." I was surprised but managed to blurt out, "You can usually find an open Chinese restaurant or throw together some fried rice."

There was a pause in the glow of the moment, but the next storyteller picked it right up and shared a tradition complete with roasting chestnuts, caroling, and trimming the tree.

Chinese food on Christmas Day may never merit a card or a song, but believe it or not--it is a tradition. Just Google "Christmas Chinese food" and you'll see. Anyways, now that we had an official Christmas tradition, we were determined to follow through, so this Christmas night, we walked down the street to The Canton. I was prepared for that most dismal of restaurant experiences--eating Christmas dinner in an empty room and, sure enough, when we arrived at 5:00 pm, there was only one other table occupied, but Whoa Nelly! Within fifteen minutes, the place was packed with Blended Families, Romantic Couple, the Young and the Hip, Older Kids with Gramma and Grampa In Tow, Foreign Couple, Quietly Arguing Couple, Distracted Couple with Annoying Child, and a line out the door.

We ate our now traditional pot stickers and fried rice, took enough back for the next night's dinner, and called it good--another slightly nicked penny in the memory bank.

I worked at Tom Douglas' original Dahlia Lounge when it opened--fried rice was on the first menu. Leftover vegetables were never used but hey, we're home now. Here's a vague approximation of the Dahlia's fried rice. In my kitchen, it has morphed over the years to include anything that is in the frig: shrimp, pork, chicken, tofu, mushrooms (fresh or re-constituted dried), nappa cabbage, green cabbage, chard, spinach, lettuce, broccoli, carrots, sweet potatoes--and always frozen peas.

Not Very Authentic Fried Rice

1 cup frozen peas
Vegetable oil
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
Sesame oil
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon dried chili flakes
Garlic, finely chopped, amount per preferance
Fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped, amount per preference
1 onion, diced
Mushrooms
½ pound cooked meat, cubed tofu, or tempeh
Salt and pepper
3 scallions, sliced
2 cups raw vegetables—cut approximately to the same size
4 cups cold cooked white rice
Flavor blend: 1 part soy sauce or oyster sauce, ½ part rice vinegar, sugar to taste, Chinese chili paste to taste (a little fish sauce wouldn't hurt)

Start out with a bigger pan than you think necessary. You’ll have less flotsam on the stove after you’re done. Cover frozen peas with cold water. When thawed, pour into seive.

Heat wok or a large heavy-bottomed nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. When hot add 1 swirl of the vegetable oil. Scramble eggs until slightly undercooked, remove from pan and set aside.

If you’re using raw meat or shrimp, now’s the time to sauté it—undercook a tad, please. Remove from pan and reserve.

Clean out pan and return to heat. Add 1 tablespoon vegetable oil and 1 tablespoon sesame oil, heat until oil shimmers. Add chili flakes, garlic, ginger, mushrooms, and diced onions. season with salt and pepper, and cook for 1 to 2 minutes until onion is fragrant.

Add raw vegetables: shredded head cabbage, julienned carrots, small broccoli florets, cauliflower, fennel, celery, etc. and sauté to coat with oil. Pour the vinegar/soy sauce mixture over vegetable and cook until your desired softness. If it's too dry, add a bit of water or stock. If you’re using leftover cooked vegetables, add just to heat. Add scallions and cooked meat or tofu to heat.

If you’re using nappa cabbage or spinach, wait until onion/garlic/ginger mixture is finished then fold in and remove from heat.

Now this is the part that would make Tom D. cringe: I just microwave the cooked rice (whether it be brown, Uncle Ben’s, jasmine, basmati, Korean, etc.), put it in a large bowl, add the scrambled eggs and fold in the vegetable mixture. Serve immdiately or make ahead and whack it in the mw.

This is a perfect vehicle for left over anything. You can have Cajun rice (andouille sausage, bell peppers,celery, onion,paprika/thyme/oregano/cayenne), Italian rice (tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, roasted red pepper/pesto/parm), Spanish rice (chorizo, black beans, jalapenos,cumin, chile powder), Hawaiian rice (spam and macaroni). Add the eggs, leave out the eggs—who’ll care? Change the oil and the flavor blend to suit the ingredients—who’ll know?

The Cowabunga Dudes Take Hollywood

2011-12-27T16:26:34Z

FADE IN:

EXT. PLEASURE POINT SANTA CRUZ CALIFORNIA - DAY

Bright blue skies, large puffy clouds, early winter sunshine. 4-6' surf. Semi-clean, warbly lines as tide drops. Workable corners but mostly soft/shouldery with some decent sets showing.
LONG SHOT:

EXT. WATER BELOW OVERLOOK - DAY

Thirty or so surfers sit on their boards waiting for the next set of waves.

PAN TO:

EXT. BEACH OVERLOOK WITH WAIST-HIGH WOODEN RAIL - DAY

A mixed crowd of fifty or so--young, old, hip, straight, some on bikes, some on skateboards, some with dogs, some with strollers--gather on the overlook of a rocky beach and watch the surfers below.

Film equipment covers the small parking lot across the street from the overlook. Crew members wander around--some with clipboards, some eating burritos, some wearing headphones, all looking down at their devices.

DUDE and BRO, two mid-teen surfers in wetsuits, stand off to the side with rented longboards under their arms.

BRO, short, chunky teen in billed wetsuit. Turns to DUDE

BRO

(impatiently)

I told you they were filming today! We shoulda' been lined up at dawn patrol!!! We problie so missed our chance to be in a shot!!!

DUDE, tall, thin teen board under his arm.

DUDE
(angrily)

Don't blow your squeaker, Bro!! My ears are plugged, I have a chode burn on my butt, and my knees are like totally blown out--gimme a friggin' break!! You shoulda' lemme rack more ZZs, I got hell munched yesterday!!

BRO
(obliviously)

Dude, check it!! That grey who took a sand facial lives to tell!! Shhhhway!! The legend got thrashed--he's totally wack!!!!

DUDE

Let’s walk down and line up.

STAIRS LEADING DOWN TO THE WATER BELOW

EXT: CALM WATER FULL OF SURFERS SITTING ON THEIR BOARDS - DAY

Dude and Bro walk down the stairs to the water, get in, paddle out, and join the line up. They sit on their boards waiting for the next set, talking.

BRO
(woundedly)

The Barbie like totally gave me the stink-eye--that's like effin' schwag!! I was like, whoa Emma chillax!!!

DUDE
(glumly but with determination)

Bro, I'm so bleak after that flat spell. Gotta carve this Macker comin' up so the camera dude will notice me.

BRO
(wryly)

Ka-Biff!! Dude, that was a real whoopsydangit!!

DUDE
(off-handedly)

Who cares Bro...anyways our vacay is over tomorrow so it's back to Fargo.

BRO
(defiantly)

Dude, I'm so over North Dakota!!! I'm stayin' here. The camera kahuna said there might be a grunt job for the January re-shoot in Half Moon Bay. Tell my Mom I said Hi. And please, feed my fish.

There's no free lunch, but there may be free coffee: Russian tea cakes

2011-12-21T17:48:33Z

My mother made Christmas cookies every year: Russian Tea Cakes, lemon bars, Spritz cookies, and frosted sugar cookies shaped like stars, snowmen (Those were the days before the gender discussion), Christmas trees (Those were also the days when elementary schools had Christmas programs), and bells. My favorites were the frosted sugar cookies. You could always tell which ones Ginny and I made--they were the slightly grey ones with mauve frosting and layers of multi-colored sprinkles. It's been years since I've baked cookies--Oh I've rolled a few Snickerdoodles but my skills as a baker are minimal.

My friend Sandy said that Capitola was her favorite spot. Her daughter Nancy said not to miss Gayle's, so I hopped on the #55 bus and rode down the hill, past the lagoon, through Capitola Village, and up Bay Avenue to Gayle's Bakery. I was unprepared for the pandemonium inside.

The parking lot was calm enough, but once in the door, mayhem ensued. People crowded up against the counter, tickets in hand, waving their arms and hooraying once their number was called. A young man, with microphone (glad it wasn't a megaphone), called out a number, the lucky winner stepped up triumphantly, gave their order, collected their food, and paid.

I just wanted lunch, so I beat a hasty retreat to a quiet, outside room with tables expecting "Wait to be seated". It was soon obvious that no one was in charge out there, so I took a deep breath, went back in, and asked a kind looking lady what the rules were. She said, "Get a ticket, crowd up to the deli counter, decide what you want, and be ready to order when they call your number."

The deli counter wrapped halfway around the room and was full of beef roasts, whole hams, turkey breasts, salami, hot dishes, macaroni and cheese, ready-made sandwiches, side salads, pizza slices, short ribs, chicken wings, and much, much more. The bakery counter was as long, with shelves of cookies, tarts, rolls, cakes, pies, petit fours, cream horns, croissants, and brioche. I choose something, anything, and headed for the rear of the room to wait for my call.

Lunch in hand, now I needed water. The beverage bar was down at the other end of the room with self-serve coffee, tea, water, and fountain drinks. Mmmm, coffee smells really good...look over at the counter melee. Do I really want to re-enter the crush to pay for a cup of coffee? No way. So I owe Gayle's $1.75, which I most certainly will pay. The sandwich was good, the broccoli salad was good (but not as good as Lara's), and the co-opted coffee, great. I shamelessly had a refill.

Russian Tea Cakes

1 cup butter, slightly softened
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 1/4 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 cup chopped pecans

Cream butter and sugar. Add flour, salt, vanilla, and chopped nuts. Form into 1 inch balls.

Bake for fourteen minutes in a 400 degree oven.

Roll in powdered sugar while hot. Let cool, roll in powdered sugar again.

Neighborhood around Gayle's

Elvis has not left this building

Capitola Village

Soquel Creek Lagoon

The view from the bus: Baked artichoke dip

2011-12-15T18:00:49Z

I'm back on the #68 bus from Capitola to Santa Cruz. I was waiting at the Santa Cruz Metro Center for my ride back to Capitola, when a couple walked by. The man said, "They should do something about this place--it's a disaster!" The man sitting next to me shrugged and said, "What do you expect, it's a bus terminal."

I must agree--I don't think I've ever spent time in an attractive bus center. During one of our long "rides" around the country, Bob and I waited for a bus in the downtown Minneapolis transit center from 10:30 pm to 5:00 am. It was February, it was dark and cold, the terminal was deserted, and no one was in charge. The doors were locked from the inside to keep out the homeless and the transients who, needless to say, all wanted in. They came by regularly, pounded on the doors, and shouted, "Let us in!!" We didn't, and felt bad.

You see a different scene out the window when you're riding on the bus. Just walk a couple blocks from the Santa Cruz "disaster" and you'll find charming boutiques, high-end clothing stores, cozy coffee bars, and festive holiday lighting. Closer to the terminal are the bail bonds, tattoo parlors, and community outreach centers.

Santa Cruzarians certainly have style. Living here must either force or allow people to be unique. This is a land of strange hats, unexpected bare legs, unusual bags for both men and women, fashionable footwear, colorful scarves, and an abundance of hair. Capitola leans more toward the beachy look: surfer dudeness, baggy shorts, hoodies, flip flops, skateboard attire, and bare feet. (What is it with surfers and no shoes? They can walk over gravel with nary a wince.)

Anyways, it's delightful here. I love being able to walk out the door and know that I'll see something unusual. I had a grand time at the Santa Cruz Community Farmer's Market. Open all year round, the seasonal offerings included artichokes, Meyer lemons, canned tomatoes, fresh figs, oysters, honey, and much much more. It would bring a tear to the eye of any locavore.

Baked Artichoke Dip

two fourteen oz. cans drained artichoke hearts in water
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup cream cheese
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon Tabasco
1 teaspoon garlic salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Put drained artichoke hearts, Parmesan cheese, cream cheese, mayonnaise, lemon juice, Tabasco, salt, and pepper in food processor. Pulse four or five times, or until mixtures is chunkily smooth. Spoon mixture into baking dish.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for about 20 minutes or until golden brown.

Downtown Santa Cruz building mural

Street musicians

He was being very good...

He was in a time out.

Local artist, Nick Craig's work in progress

Area produce sold at Santa Cruz Community Farmers Market

A-Frame, a sign of the times

2011-12-05T20:01:31Z

In the early 90s, I read a review of Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential, a tell-all, behind-the-scenes look at life in a restaurant kitchen, and immediately bought the book. It is a graphic, profane tale of what goes on behind the swinging doors of high-end restaurants. What I'd been experiencing during my own professional cooking career was being discussed and verified in vivid black and white.

Bad boy chefs are now the rage--cursing, throwing things, and berating the staff, right there on your family TV. Chefs behaved like that in the 80s and 90s, and have probably since roadside inns began serving food to travelers in the 16th century. When I was growing up in the Midwest, restaurants were family-owned places that served the locals, nation-wide chains like Denny's or IHOP, taverns that offered bar food along with tap beer, or drive-ins. My how things have changed.

In 1982, Wolfgang Puck left Ma Maison, opened Spago on Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, and introduced diners to gourmet pizzas, spit-roasted game, artisan cheese, and baby vegetables. Along with his inventive menus came fresh flowers on the tables, artwork on the walls, hip wait staffs, open kitchens, creative restaurant designs, and of course, higher prices. Today, Wolfgang Puck is an industry selling frozen dinners, cookware, clothing, and airport food. Spago was the first of a long list of expensive, A-list, Los Angeles eateries serving fusion food, ethnic dishes, California and novelle cuisine with hard-to-get reservations.

The baton has been passed to a new breed of restaurant chefs who are once again bringing innovation into the restaurant world. David Chang turns away customers who line up every night to eat fried chicken, kimchi burritos, or pulled pork buns at one of his four New York eateries. In 2009, Roy Choi and Mark Manguera started selling Korean sliders, spicy pork tacos, and kimchi quesadillas from their food truck, Kogi, and started a nationwide craze. Last year the not to be missed venues in LA were flash mob restaurants that popped up one night and were gone the next. The new breed of restaurants is heavily dependent on social media--Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr--to keep the hungry mobs informed as where to queue up.

The new restaurant paradigm seems to be casual, no boundaries, calorie-packed food that everyone loves to eat. When Bob and I were in Los Angeles last month, my only must-eat place was Roy Choi's A-Frame, a renovated International House of Pancakes site on Washington Boulevard in Culver City. We got there at five minutes before the 5:00 opening, and by the time we left at 6:00 it was packed. The menu shows no sign of Mrs. Obama's push toward healthy eating. We ordered the-best-beercan chicken-I-ever-ate, sweet potato fries with garlic aioli, shrimp tempura with dipping sauce, roasted lamb, and finished (believe it or not) with pound cake cinnamon churros, malted chocolate milk and vanilla ice cream. We consumed the calorie intake of a hockey team but left with big smiles on our faces. This dinner was not cheap, but neither was it a gasper. The experience was high on expectations, low on pretension, and very satisfying.

A-Frame

Outdoor patio

Dining room

Shrimp tempura

Cinnamon churros with malted milk and ice cream

A Tale of Three Thanksgivings: Grasshopper Pie

2011-11-28T16:51:49Z

http://youtu.be/JmyXTOHC3w8

The week before Thanksgiving, advise/manners columns address the issue of too-many-guests-at-the-table.

To wit:

Dear Wiser-than-I, "I can accept a plus-one, but why does he/she have to bring his/her boyfriend, in-laws, roommate, weird cousin, bus buddy, dog, dentist, etc. to the family table? I don't have enough forks, chairs, food, napkin rings, bathrooms, monogrammed place-cards, sterling, etc. for that many."

For Pete's sake, just scooch over!

On my "Family Favorites" menu bar, there are three Holiday tables: one on the East coast and two on the West coast. In Washington state, my sisters man the Thanksgiving table. Ginny hosts, provides the turkey plus connected dishes, her husband Ron pulls wine from his cellar (we're talking a literal cellar here), and sister Nikki is "Pie Lady". The children are old enough to contribute. Strictly speaking family, we were looking at three plus Claire, the daughter and Grasshopper Pie maker (when she can make the trip from Bend). Thursday, eighteen plus a baby were seated--no one brought their dog. The table was stretched, assignments doled out, chairs borrowed, tablecloths shaken, and general merriment ensued. It took a full day to recover.

On the East coast, my daughter Bridget and daughter-in-law Lara are Moms in charge. They peel, roast, bake, simmer, mash, until the cows come home. Lara's mom bakes her world famous (and star of the show) dinner rolls (No, there will not be a recipe included--some things you just don't share). Bridget's mother-in-law, maker of that fab Mississippi Mud Pie, brings Southern sides that Paula Dean would covet. The six kids are of indeterminate help. Louie (my favorite dog) observes the ongoing chaos with head on paws and one raised eyebrow. Lucy (my favorite Bichon terrier) waits longingly at Lara's feet hoping to be picked up. The nuke-fam count: a whopping seventeen. This Thanksgiving their table sat twenty-three. Everyone just scooched over, for heaven's sake! It took a full day to recover.

In California this year, Lori V. fried three turkeys, Sandy Mom-of-all things meglia, prepared enough sides for Pittsburg, Bob dad of the Fosters bought the prime rib of your dreams, and I bought gravy and rolls (note the bought). The kids are of indeterminate help. Come turkey time the true blood Fostermiglias numbered twelve, the interlopers (including Bob and me) expanded the table count to seventeen people (plus two resident dogs and two visiting dogs). Again, for goodness sake, everyone just scooched! BTY, it took a full day to recover.

Anyways, even though the California table did not take the traditional "what I'm grateful for" table survey, I was ready just in case. I'm grateful for having women in my life who are willing, able and gracious enough to create opportunities for so many people to remember life at its fullest. They accept strangers to the table and everyone scooches over to expand the circle--Thanksgiving at its finest.

Grasshopper Pie

Crust:

1 1/2 cups (one box Anna's Chocolate Cookies)

3 tablespoons sugar

4 tablespoons butter

Filling:

24 marshmallows

1/2 cup milk

4 tablespoons Creme de Menthe or 2 teaspoons mint flavoring and a few drops green food coloring

2 tablespoons Creme de Cacao

1 cup heavy cream

Grind cookies in food processor. Combine crumbs with sugar. Mix in melted butter. Pat into pie crust and refrigerate.

Melt marshmallows in milk and cool. Stir in Creme de Menthe and Creme de Cacoa or mint flavoring.

Whip heavy cream to soft peaks--don't overbeat. Fold whipped cream into marshmallow mixture. Refrigerate at least two hours before serving.

Washington Thanksgiving moms

The Eastcoast table (missing two Moms)

The California Table (sorry, you'll have to view it upside down. I tried everything.)

Cowabunga Dude!!!

2011-11-22T17:22:38Z

COWABUNGA DUDE--WORKING TITLE

FADE IN:

PLEASURE POINT, SANTA CRUZ-DAY
Below the cliffs at an overlook, waves crash onto the rocky beach. Strong winds, light rain, heavy clouds.

DUDE, residence undetermined (may have a North Dakota accent), late teens/early twenties, clearly the boss

BRO, residence undetermined (may have a Minnesota accent), late teens/early twenties, clearly the bossed

Bro
Dude, Why do I have to wear the one that makes me look like a duck?

Dude
So's your Mama'd know ya', Tool! Let's, you know, like, paddle out and line up. It's off the Richter!!!

Bro
WTF,Dude!!! It's like gnarly and totally blown out!!! And what about those rocks???

Dude
Bro, don't be a waxboy. I'm super-stoked and we only have four hours left on these big guns--we gotta ride! Besides, it's sick out there!!!

Bro
Yahbut, that brody with the dreds--he totally biffed it!!!

Dude
But Bro, the grom scored a righteous ride!!

Bro
Dude, look, look--the pounder totally rag-dolled that bad-ass crusher!!!

Dude
Hmmm...maybe we outta try a little bit further up.

Half Moon Bay: Muth's Apple Pie

2011-11-17T19:40:05Z

Bob and the nurses had the day off, so we (Bob and I, that is...the nurses stayed home) drove North along Hwy 1 to Half Moon Bay. If there is a more beautiful drive along the California coast than this scenic route on the Pacific Coast Highway, I've not seen it: mountain-like hills, wind-swept trees, leek, artichoke and brussel sprout fields, the Pigeon Point Lighthouse, picturesque wineries, and crashing waves--all within a 30 minute drive.

Leek fields along side of the ocean

Pigeon Point lighthouse

We had no particular goal in mind--just a Sunday drive. Garmin led us into the small town of Half Moon Bay, down Main Street with a positive mix of stores offering essential goods and tourist gimmicks We were in the market for neither, had a supply of bars for lunch, and didn't need to use the facilities so we coasted through town and back onto the highway.

On the way into town we noticed a huge, castle-like facility perched on a cliff right above those crashing waves. I put the smart phone to work and found that the Ritz Carlton has a secluded luxury outpost right outside of Half Moon Bay complete with two championship golf courses, a basketball court, three restaurants, a "technology butler for computer needs", twice-daily maid service, and much, much, more at the staggering rate of $499 per night (low- end room, that is).

Not too far from the Ritz we saw a small sign that read, "Pie Ranch, Ahead". Pie always gets our attention. Bob made a swift turn to the left, parked in front of a rustic group of small barns, and we walked up the stairs to a locavore's vision of a farm-to-table scene: Pie Ranch- grown vegetables, blueberry honey, organic, happy-hen, eggs, and best of all...pie. We chose a little walnut pielette for two--similar to pecan pie but a little less rich.

Just to make the pie-picture perfect, a lovely young woman (with that rosey-eyed, starry-cheeked look of someone who loves what she's doing) told us all about Pie Ranch, the involvement with at-risk youth, and the long-term commitment to enabling everyone to eat "artisan" food products.

The Pie Ranch girls (picture courtesy of pieranch.org)

This is how my Mom made apple pie.

Muth's Apple Pie

Crust:
1 cup flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon Crisco or lard
4-6 tablespoons cold water

Measure flour and salt into bowl. Cut in shortening with fork. Sprinkle in water, 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing until flour is moistened and dough almost cleans the side of the bowl. Gather dough into a ball; shape into flattened round on slightly floured board. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for one hour.

With floured rolling pin and floured surface, roll dough into a circle 2" larger than pie pan.

Filling:
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
6 cups peeled, thinly sliced tart apples--Granny Smith, Yellow Delicious, Honey Crisp

Topping:
1 cup flour
1/2 cup firm butter
1/2 cup brown sugar

Heat oven to 425 degrees. Prepare pastry. Stir together sugar, flour, nutmeg, cinnamon and salt; mix with sliced apples. Turn into pastry-lined pie pan.

Mix ingredients for topping until crumbly; spread over apples. Bake 50 minutes. Cover topping with aluminum foil for the last 15 minutes of baking if top browns too quickly.

Elevator logic, Part 2: Sunny Cove

2011-11-13T19:11:14Z

The other day I participated in my favorite elevator ruckus. I was southbound, riding down alone, expecting to exit into the lobby. The elevator doors opened to five semi-tall, young, Japanese gentlemen all carrying surfing gear neatly encased in large, black plastic cases. The men each bowed slightly and entered the elevator as one, some sideways, some straight on, attempting without success to corral the ends of their boards.

I bowed slightly and tried to exit, sidestepping one board only to be trapped by another. They bowed again, giggling to each other in Japanese that I was trying to get out.

Everyone shuffled over but time was up, I was cornered, and the doors closed. I bowed, they bowed, we all smiled, and rode up together. They smiled again as the elevator doors opened on their floor and they exited one by one, boards under control, held North to South. Quick learners. I wonder if there are similar elevator co-minglings in Europe--can't imagine it could happen in Paris or London.

Anyways, once I escaped the elevator, I bussed to the Aloha Island Grill, ate lunch, then walked to Sunny Cove, just a few blocks away. This spot may be at the top of my "most beautiful" list. The day was balmy, the beaches were deserted, the breezes were blowing, the clouds were puffy--you get the picture. Well, here's a few digital ones to bring home the point.

A few blocks from Sunny Cove is Corcoran Lagoon, a wildlife refuge with beach access. As soon as I stepped off of the sidewalk onto the banks of the lagoon, I was surrounded by ducks--mallards mostly, with a few I'd never seen before. They quacked, waddled, and nudged one another--guess they wanted bread cubes.

Maybe someone out there knows what these blue-footed ducks are.

Poke, Plate Lunch, and Spam: where are we?

2011-11-11T16:06:51Z

I always read the information book that a hotel puts together. I'm more apt to use that book than the Book of Mormon or the Gideon's Bible. I find out if/when there's free food, where the washers & dryers are, if there's an exercise option, and what channels are on the TV. Usually there's a listing of nearby restaurants, bars, and movie theaters. Usually the restaurants are national chains with poor to mediocre, calorie-laden food: Applebee's, Denny's IHOP, etc. Usually we don't go to those restaurants. We make do with complimentary happy hour snacks, left-over lunches, or nearby take-out. In this particular hotel, there is no free food after 10:00 am and Bob's current hospital doesn't provide lunches--so I'm forced to forage every day.

Fortunately this hotel's list of nearby restaurants included the Aloha Island Grill, a local favorite, just a short bus ride away. I've always been curious about Hawaiian restaurants, Eugene OR has at least seven options, Tacoma WA has two or three (none that come highly recommended), Seattle and Portland have plenty to choose from.

I visited with a surfer girl at Capitola Beach who said that Santa Cruz surfers align themselves more closely with the Big Island than with Southern California. Hawaiian culture has strong roots in the Central Coast of California--no where stronger than in Santa Cruz and Capitola. A local radio station has an eight-hour slot devoted to Hawaiian music and the weather supports a life style oriented towards the beach, allows cultivation of tropical plants, and encourages people to be outdoors all year round. Several local restaurants feature Hawaiian cuisine with meat plates, teriyaki, and Hawaiian barbeque.

The development of Hawaiian cuisine reflects the evolution of Hawaii's population. The first wave of voyagers hit the beaches in about 300 AD to an island with an abundance of fish, coconuts, and bananas. The few edible plants, wild boar, dogs, and poultry the new residents brought with them added another level to the existing diet.

Captain Cook, the first of the global explorers, arrived with domestic pigs, pumpkin, melon, and onion seeds for planting. Soon after Cook, American settlers began the cultivation of pineapple and sugar cane, creating the need to acquire property and find bodies to work the fields. When the owners and native Hawaiians tired of being field laborers, China provided the next wave of immigrants and with them came woks and stir fries. Next up: the Portuguese with their chilies and sweet fried donuts. The Japanese soon came with complex broths and seaweed, closely followed by Philippines with garlic and adobo, Puerto Rico with spicy dishes and meat turnovers, and Vietnam with lemon grass, coconut milk, and ginger.

And North America's contribution to the table? A taste of the Midwest--Spam and macaroni salad. (Despite this area's culinary influence on Hawaiian culture, Duluth/Fargo/Brainerd didn't seem to be on the Spamwagon and had no Hawaiian restaurants.)

So what do you get when you whisk up this mix of ingredients?

Poke--raw fish salad without citrus or vinegar. Unlike ceviche, the seafood in poke is not cooked by an acid ingredient.
Plate lunch-- two scoops of rice, macaroni salad, and loco moco.

Loco moco--white rice topped with choice of hamburger patty, Spam, teriyaki beef, pulled pork, sausage, bacon or chili, fried egg and brown gravy.

Determined to succeed this time at riding the bus, I hopped on the #55 to Santa Cruz, and (with the help of a pleasant, young man sitting next to me) hopped off at 18th & Portola, right in front of the restaurant...cool, cool, cool. Slightly worn, tiki torches at the ready, tall totem-like statues guarding the entrance, and surf boards everywhere.

I knew that I had to order loco moco--in the interest of culinary research. Imagine my surprise when it arrived (within a respectable preparation time of fifteen minutes) and it was delicious. As advertised--two scoops of white rice, one scoop of macaroni salad (close to the best I've had), two hamburger patties and a fried egg, blanketed with brown gravy. Not a lunch for the faint of heart but then...

Next time I'm having Poke.

Loco Moco

I've had plenty of on-line help learning about Hawaiian cuisine. My favorite source was "Go Lightly Gourmet" http://danazia.wordpress.com/2011/03/08/history-of-hawaiis-cuisine/, a well written, easy to read, and informative blog. Give it a browse.

Here's a recipe for Poke, courtesy of Hawaii Magazine.

1 lb. fresh ahi steaks, cut into cubed, bite-size pieces
1/4 cup soy sauce (shoyu)
1/4 cup chopped green onions (tops included)
1/4 cup chopped Maui onion (or yellow onion)
2 tsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. grated fresh ginger
1 chili pepper, cored, seeded and diced (optional)
Sea salt, to taste
2 tsp. toasted sesame seeds
2 tsp. finely chopped toasted macadamia nuts (optional, as a substitute for inamona, which is difficult to find outside of Hawaii)

(Note: You can vary the ingredients to your taste.)

In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients, and mix lightly. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours before serving.

Santa Cruzin' in Surf City

2011-11-08T16:43:00Z

Mention Santa Cruz to anyone who has been there and faces lights up...now I know why. We purged (to some extent) in Modesto, packed, and pointed Garmin toward the Coast to our next stop, Capitola (our friend Sandy calls it "her favorite place in the world"), just a few miles SE of Santa Cruz. As it was the seventh game of the World Series, we bought a Subway across the street from the hotel and cozied home to watch our team get beat in the eleventh inning.

We were anxious to get out there and feel the charm so after a quick breakfast we were off. It took about five minutes to identify the major elements of a Santa Cruz lifestyle: surf shops, organic food markets, alternative health options, students, older cars, and two-wheeled vehicles nudging cars to the side.

The look is pre-McMansion with curvy neighborhood streets and small, older, one-story houses--Laguna Beach circa 1950 springs to mind. Small local businesses, inns, and restaurants seem the norm, with few large box chains in sight.

We drove past the boardwalk, stopped to watch a session of surf school, and wandered through an active downtown. I'm definitely ready to move: the $459,000 median price of a house, however, could be an issue.

"Capitola by the sea", California Gothic

2011-11-07T15:31:23Z

We arrived in Capitola over a week ago, so it was time to get out of the room and onto the bus. Taking the Metro in an unfamiliar city requires at least one practice attempt, sturdy shoes (because you may be walking instead of riding), patience, and plenty of quarters. I followed the directions on "Maps", walked to the sign bearing the correct bus number, and waited. As the departure time came and went, I saw the #55 whizzing by on the other side of the street--right time, wrong place. Just like using computer code (and deciphering a bus schedule is no easier than reading computer code), when you're using local mass transit you are either right or wrong, "on the bus or off the bus"...xxxs and ooos, no measure given for close.

As the next bus didn't come by for an hour, I decided to walk to the beach instead. Lemonade out of lemons, as it turned out. Down a steep hill to the left was Soquel Creek Lagoon and a bird's eye view of the picturesque waterfront. To this Midwestern mind, it looked like my dream of the South of France.

Speaking of birds, in 1961, Alfred Hitchcock (a summer resident of nearby Santa Cruz) read in his morning paper about the strange attack on Capitola by aggressive flocks of sooty shearwaters. Three years later, his movie "The Birds" permanently stamped an uneasy mistrust of gathering gulls onto the collective American psyche.

I wandered the streets of the village, walked past a winery, a few surf shops, some gift stores, plenty of restaurants, bought a few trinkets and stopped at Mr. Kebab for tasty felafel and taboulie. The sun was bright and warm, the surfer dudes were curling along the waves, the dogs were delirious, and I sat on a bench absorbing the sights and sounds...storing up the memory.

Back at the bus bench waiting for my ride home, I saw the #55 whizzing past on the other side of the street. By now I knew for sure that another would not come by for an hour, so I trudged up the hill by the lagoon, through beautiful little neighborhoods, counting on my phone to hold on to the last of its fading battery and get me home.

Soquel Creek Lagoon

The Armida Winery

"Free to Ride" surf shop

The view from Mr. Kebab's

Hotel/condominiums along the beach