tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15534280016909456712024-02-07T18:24:17.158-08:00ruthie writesCulinary exploits.
Travel adventures.
Love of food.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-47912291445674984332012-01-29T13:20:00.000-08:002012-01-29T13:20:44.313-08:00New Home!<div style="text-align: left;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvT6ryD8jR8Tq0h-PaQmPxwnN9Zo_28FTeModAXMxtcNB6t1CHJEZOa7XUKtKjAwlFzBacB_H2qi8HgahLUMWOfmYChnfYcRZBUoHBuV-5UusbsHzbDKb_WmbD5T4esJG-58uEg_wmVgc/s1600/IMG_1446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvT6ryD8jR8Tq0h-PaQmPxwnN9Zo_28FTeModAXMxtcNB6t1CHJEZOa7XUKtKjAwlFzBacB_H2qi8HgahLUMWOfmYChnfYcRZBUoHBuV-5UusbsHzbDKb_WmbD5T4esJG-58uEg_wmVgc/s400/IMG_1446.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Come fly with me to new places on the Inter-Web!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hi friends,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm now writing at </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://ruthinfood.com/">ruthinfood.com</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for reading! </span><br />
<br />Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-42735471905392902722012-01-19T16:27:00.000-08:002012-01-19T16:27:48.816-08:00Quick Pic: Salmonete<br />
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, <img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaFxoWyi2OwZOMUyvyVkNvzw8V77cgZBBfB8NC_WTG3ub7BUo0wgUOJ7pjLRrvqbXjAKoGKopKCY1R-xhClZdeHZhhxjlWfnPV3PCfZrN2bUnxiOwe5ql-7nh2D6A-zyiGvMZWBcOFLc/s400/Salmonete+Dish.jpg" width="400" /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
It's the second week of the <a href="http://www.basquestage.com/" target="_blank">BasqueStage</a>, and I'm trying to keep my head above water at <a href="http://www.martinberasategui.com/" target="_blank">Martin Berasategui</a>. I'm currently working on the <i>partida de pescado</i>, the fish station.<br />
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Most of my responsibilities thus far have been prep work- cleaning squid, breaking down chickens for family meal, and folding squid ink raviolis (think of wrapping a cold, slippery Christmas present for a Lilliputian). <br />
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However, today I caught a glimpse of the Salmonete dish: roasted red mullet, crispy scales, white chocolate, and wakame. Colors, contrasting tastes, what a gorgeous plate. Long hours and prep work aside, this is why I'm here.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-73880669187368323182012-01-17T02:00:00.000-08:002012-01-17T02:00:33.165-08:00Quick Pic: Pintxos to share<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1RSr8sYek9IX6Le_oRdgwourcY4VAqoCSodg0c8DS1CzDSWIsQPlHtwCQ0w28Rkt0kBXXDYtwt5hVHH6xzZeVCHrhKIkqKxNwOo8IVmnhhh_Gcx3Hij_Zp-ay7BUpF1F9LXq0dmiPK8/s1600/Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1RSr8sYek9IX6Le_oRdgwourcY4VAqoCSodg0c8DS1CzDSWIsQPlHtwCQ0w28Rkt0kBXXDYtwt5hVHH6xzZeVCHrhKIkqKxNwOo8IVmnhhh_Gcx3Hij_Zp-ay7BUpF1F9LXq0dmiPK8/s400/Collage.jpg" width="400" /></a>Pintxos (PEEN-chos) are Basque bar bites, small portions of food to grab with txakoli (a white, slightly bubbly wine made here in the Pais Vasco) or a beer for a casual meal. Much like tapas in the rest of the Iberian peninsula, pintxos are the Basque equivalent of fish and chips, wings or nachos, just with top quality ingredients. Meant to be a leisurely meal while standing with friends, pintxos are as much about the culture of eating as the dishes themselves.<br />
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Clockwise, from top left: <b>carpaccio</b> with arugula, pinenuts and Parmesan cheese; <b>bocadillos de Jamon Serrano</b> on perfectly crunchy baguettes; left, <b>pulpo a la plantxa</b>- grilled octopus- and right, <b>txipirones</b> (CHEE-pee-rone-es) - mini fried squid; and <b>pintxo de champis- </b>bread, bacon and mushroom towers, a savory skewer that prompts you to- ahem- order another round. <br />
<br />Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-55281575527501683582012-01-15T11:40:00.000-08:002012-01-15T14:35:55.335-08:00Martin Berasategui: First Impressions<br />
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I’ve just finished a Sunday lunch shift at <a href="http://www.martinberasategui.com/" target="_blank">MB</a>, preceeded by
lunch and dinner shifts on Saturday. Since the restaurant is closed on Mondays
and Tuesdays, I find myself with some time to reflect on my new job and my role
here.
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The first thing I noticed about this kitchen: the sheer
number of people working here. Numbers-wise, we would be very close to a
football team: offense and defense, special teams, kickers, coaches,
coordinators <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> trainers. Once
everyone is in motion, it can be difficult to find your way through the tangle
of people. However, the good thing is: there is always someone to ask if you
need a hand with a task, or if you don’t know where something is. </div>
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I chose to start on the fish station; previous <a href="http://www.basquestage.com/" target="_blank">BasqueStage</a>
<a href="http://www.marcobahena.com/" target="_blank">Marco Bahena</a> had told me the Chef de Partida there was the most demanding. I
figured if I could make it on the fish station, I would be able to make it on
the other stations as well. This logic of starting with the toughest boss may
or may not work out. I have seen more than a few serious tongue-lashings for
offenses ranging from talking too much to improperly chopped parsley. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGu3Qyk0q_Ii1rMHuy_fXAEWCYP0kHopNV5hbXhBRKgaLXzfiiR1WnCAOyQ7toZlss4oR3pph8kev4_wRNFlp0Iy-s3pwHzEMEwAmHeF814Em9-8H4HFjTK8DNL9NERs_f7pUanj3e3ao/s1600/IMG_2207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGu3Qyk0q_Ii1rMHuy_fXAEWCYP0kHopNV5hbXhBRKgaLXzfiiR1WnCAOyQ7toZlss4oR3pph8kev4_wRNFlp0Iy-s3pwHzEMEwAmHeF814Em9-8H4HFjTK8DNL9NERs_f7pUanj3e3ao/s320/IMG_2207.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yesica concentrates on the raviolis.</td></tr>
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For the past two days, I have worked with Igor (from Bilbao)
and Yesica (from Argentina), on <a href="http://tracyfearless.com/2011/02/08/patience-precision-presto-ravioli/#more-1909" target="_blank">the Squid Ink Raviolis</a>. To assemble this pouch
of shaved squid filled with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tinta de calamar,
</i>you need<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>steady hands, a
miniature offset spatula, and the patience of an origami professional.
Intricate and frustrating, while also imaginative and beautiful, these ravioli
probably will remain my task for the next week; after seven straight hours of
folding these packets, I’m starting to get the hang of it.
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">En total, </i>it’s a
whole new world here. Elisha and I are used to skeleton crews in shoebox
kitchens in labor-cost-conscious New York City. I think next week we’ll really
get a feel for the ebb and flow of service here. While it’s taxing and at times
intimidating, it’s exciting to be in a completely new environment. </div>
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Now I’m going to eat <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pintxos</i>
and drink <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">txakoli</i>- tomorrow is my day
off! </div>
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<br /></div>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-78860012483024886522012-01-13T15:09:00.000-08:002012-01-13T15:09:11.976-08:00Quick Pic: Here we go!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_4H2pcg25ULdbu8cU4qZZpa7G9O561gf9Xg398oLO8O1rIM9ef1XVpk6ryyzMg-QYgXng8WBuXyF5vbTwh3bi-tyMHpLeMfQKs708O3gyO-b3i885GAmqoQdzCTcXvSTp_qBElSSmOQ/s1600/IMG_2202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_4H2pcg25ULdbu8cU4qZZpa7G9O561gf9Xg398oLO8O1rIM9ef1XVpk6ryyzMg-QYgXng8WBuXyF5vbTwh3bi-tyMHpLeMfQKs708O3gyO-b3i885GAmqoQdzCTcXvSTp_qBElSSmOQ/s400/IMG_2202.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tomorrow will be my first day at Restaurante Martin Berasategui. After stopping by the kitchen to talk to the chef de cuisine and a few chefs de partie, I snapped this shot of the copper nameplate that greets guests as they walk up the stairs to the dining room. Let the games begin... </span>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-74005961776541507322012-01-11T03:12:00.000-08:002012-01-11T03:12:36.105-08:00Quick Pic: The hills are alive...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAFd5OlUlHutuECJcbym7xeVBrVwI001cFhIbF7Wi3fYxRE4EoG2NqhYCCfUZoSQcDQfY0pS_X0dfMV9r2WQxZl8X4dwDc2y7sWQvJqoPT83847TJv_xMLpj1_3liilD4SiYpG-78Rq0/s1600/Sheep+Montage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAFd5OlUlHutuECJcbym7xeVBrVwI001cFhIbF7Wi3fYxRE4EoG2NqhYCCfUZoSQcDQfY0pS_X0dfMV9r2WQxZl8X4dwDc2y7sWQvJqoPT83847TJv_xMLpj1_3liilD4SiYpG-78Rq0/s640/Sheep+Montage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
...with sheep! I went for a run yesterday, and I had to snap some quick shots of these sheep on the green hills of Gipuzkoa.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-19051118570263317792012-01-10T16:44:00.000-08:002012-01-11T02:44:52.815-08:00First couple days in Pais Vasco<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRT9JB4BZJg5ftpGe_HrC06y6pVcG9S1kN2x4E4STX4q2S3ylEYUp2DWlf-DkhlaHgjMR4nc94Fh5R_KShiSPEUtOHz-QkGqc7XHL2QaGz3dljE0IyrZhwT-lpJK_4nQM1sGiZWiPQL0/s1600/IMG_2175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRT9JB4BZJg5ftpGe_HrC06y6pVcG9S1kN2x4E4STX4q2S3ylEYUp2DWlf-DkhlaHgjMR4nc94Fh5R_KShiSPEUtOHz-QkGqc7XHL2QaGz3dljE0IyrZhwT-lpJK_4nQM1sGiZWiPQL0/s320/IMG_2175.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Monte Urgull looking west, above Isla Santa Clara </td></tr>
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I've been in the Pais Vasco for two days now, and I'm lucky enough to have this week off to get settled in my new surroundings.<br />
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I'm easing back into my Spanish (rusty and sprinkled with Italian). I'm wholeheartedly embracing the laid back approach to life at the moment, because I know once the kitchen gets going, it will be go-go-go until I can figure out how to tread water.<br />
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Below is my housemate and fellow BasqueStage recipient Elisha Ben-Haim. He cooked us dinner the last two nights, and he continues to surprise me with his fantastic photo poses. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCATgpbP1MawPzkEU-2GrXImGZG3NyxANXqLp5zl4Taxz6GIXIU-EcDjMTLjq0nc5QM_tn4lrfCXQJgBdsrTkiI2zPgqQFsHalz-I7BpxzYqQao6GGFF_-zGwLu9xn6AuXnQDv7_Y1UA/s1600/IMG_2140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCATgpbP1MawPzkEU-2GrXImGZG3NyxANXqLp5zl4Taxz6GIXIU-EcDjMTLjq0nc5QM_tn4lrfCXQJgBdsrTkiI2zPgqQFsHalz-I7BpxzYqQao6GGFF_-zGwLu9xn6AuXnQDv7_Y1UA/s320/IMG_2140.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Belle Epoque? Or Art Deco?"</td></tr>
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Fortunate to have a couple clear, sunny days, Elisha and I have made the most of our luck with two gorgeous strolls through the city. Here are some more shots from Bilbao and San Sebastian:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWk1jGu7IlfpljeVQSPtn4ae9Q5_kxRkR4xZ0BYOAxo29b8vypDBV7_qQfiiJldWgzGVUrHSZRMKLLk9Pq-QNp7GegtVw-vTId4946GkQngSRhmRB4FrqMO_6VfpPhz-uXrCunJi2OhG0/s1600/IMG_2118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWk1jGu7IlfpljeVQSPtn4ae9Q5_kxRkR4xZ0BYOAxo29b8vypDBV7_qQfiiJldWgzGVUrHSZRMKLLk9Pq-QNp7GegtVw-vTId4946GkQngSRhmRB4FrqMO_6VfpPhz-uXrCunJi2OhG0/s320/IMG_2118.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pastries in Bilbao. The chocolate drizzled meringue really hit the spot. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32WRh16vhK4sEVr8NEeB-DAH32nD31yEPonrnTGu7L5459Ms3doRiZma6RUQXhVlxUX5HBf2ibz-4yL-npHfAC1B9UOTPWgnbwt0rDZd23dbUw0REyVNSJY9UozVQ5cnSl4cfw9gfBj4/s1600/IMG_2124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32WRh16vhK4sEVr8NEeB-DAH32nD31yEPonrnTGu7L5459Ms3doRiZma6RUQXhVlxUX5HBf2ibz-4yL-npHfAC1B9UOTPWgnbwt0rDZd23dbUw0REyVNSJY9UozVQ5cnSl4cfw9gfBj4/s320/IMG_2124.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Guggenheim in Bilbao.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGF11XJV1WQUOHTWp8c8iB7bPa8BpGvaLuYAZsaka1sDHLsEBDvlQ9Z3W9LMur9OQ1ogd0DCCseyWJKg8_KCaOqtrjhdU1YDO01kvVLhkDYUfOEm-gpM3I9E7Sbn1gqK47Oce_0sd2yM/s1600/IMG_2128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGF11XJV1WQUOHTWp8c8iB7bPa8BpGvaLuYAZsaka1sDHLsEBDvlQ9Z3W9LMur9OQ1ogd0DCCseyWJKg8_KCaOqtrjhdU1YDO01kvVLhkDYUfOEm-gpM3I9E7Sbn1gqK47Oce_0sd2yM/s320/IMG_2128.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weathered storm doors at the ship yard in the Bahia de La Concha. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIWMS9B_cewhS9z9AaiEPMUKUH6qP0am5-MbWdztJ4j9AI4j3lBC0mXV5wzUrxkbqkBcPo2m_f2_EPyy9QfKAe-M8KIeLpB3MzdbpOBdWfqJwOabK8JgmZItonwhmlB881CltcEM93h4/s1600/IMG_2132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIWMS9B_cewhS9z9AaiEPMUKUH6qP0am5-MbWdztJ4j9AI4j3lBC0mXV5wzUrxkbqkBcPo2m_f2_EPyy9QfKAe-M8KIeLpB3MzdbpOBdWfqJwOabK8JgmZItonwhmlB881CltcEM93h4/s320/IMG_2132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A house tiled with vibrant colors, reminiscent of fish scales shimmering just below the water's surface </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDInsxCc-av5FyB5gvXVRqKfpVc7Bk1KsuZQpxFbzTPyjsCjvnuw7f7B6XnvxkQDq5sOsy_sxOpR5_iwejbuJKdEDf3ZfFFfoz2mQq-45WVU5oe4JxS1p5x2fA5GXREQfN6UzSyjVzIpo/s1600/IMG_2134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDInsxCc-av5FyB5gvXVRqKfpVc7Bk1KsuZQpxFbzTPyjsCjvnuw7f7B6XnvxkQDq5sOsy_sxOpR5_iwejbuJKdEDf3ZfFFfoz2mQq-45WVU5oe4JxS1p5x2fA5GXREQfN6UzSyjVzIpo/s320/IMG_2134.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Basque fish monger is proud of his monkfish liver...</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTwnu9jVr7YroqLGMXC8FOhK5TDOgognYeo-tLGDh-MX16cEjQeLoyhDV98dF-NZL4AtInF8QHuF3hPGZYRFw1LcN6hwtvhWBeX3d_BRMBk-L9UzJpDMg8HZMnZifJvBlZoSS_J5tBJJQ/s1600/IMG_2139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTwnu9jVr7YroqLGMXC8FOhK5TDOgognYeo-tLGDh-MX16cEjQeLoyhDV98dF-NZL4AtInF8QHuF3hPGZYRFw1LcN6hwtvhWBeX3d_BRMBk-L9UzJpDMg8HZMnZifJvBlZoSS_J5tBJJQ/s320/IMG_2139.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and Basque children aren't afraid to touch it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUxZYtCl9evdAobc_1RwEfYxHbtsAE6MwJq-K9lfiJFcZjY3EKt9llG1uWnpvhQSFmOiOrKkEFR4a1KUciUBzNeWHIvDyGNkGgrlMn6Oe3syfak4ZUBikEUddJlCJr1vNrghZgQpZwec/s1600/IMG_2157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUxZYtCl9evdAobc_1RwEfYxHbtsAE6MwJq-K9lfiJFcZjY3EKt9llG1uWnpvhQSFmOiOrKkEFR4a1KUciUBzNeWHIvDyGNkGgrlMn6Oe3syfak4ZUBikEUddJlCJr1vNrghZgQpZwec/s320/IMG_2157.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The promenade at the La Concha </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsljW48Niyvm5lEl11hgPsWa15EhjbreiqRjVk6Uju3inJ8SYbHeNP3070qEyvs5DLB5tc5kXIx9CcjJuwTUfj4_kQAcRPvOtUHlF4gaSBa0hyvYN5pW_jWBJotLWPdh24GyUy9kQpUwo/s1600/IMG_2161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsljW48Niyvm5lEl11hgPsWa15EhjbreiqRjVk6Uju3inJ8SYbHeNP3070qEyvs5DLB5tc5kXIx9CcjJuwTUfj4_kQAcRPvOtUHlF4gaSBa0hyvYN5pW_jWBJotLWPdh24GyUy9kQpUwo/s320/IMG_2161.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautifully restored carousel from 1900, also at La Concha </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZctDaSAcXv0y-dgt9_UIBBafeI39omr4MZC-X2sbQfp7j_Gmq5BvE3UO6SFaSyZp4tmtlJj5EeT-dWX_sLDprMjmobfFQkjd1ePwrCec9ydHvSOzuoxeCtOTx7zfb5HsWSp_CEgBQpeI/s1600/IMG_2176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZctDaSAcXv0y-dgt9_UIBBafeI39omr4MZC-X2sbQfp7j_Gmq5BvE3UO6SFaSyZp4tmtlJj5EeT-dWX_sLDprMjmobfFQkjd1ePwrCec9ydHvSOzuoxeCtOTx7zfb5HsWSp_CEgBQpeI/s320/IMG_2176.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view through the trees of Monte Urgull back towards Gros, the beach with the surf break</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTXwfX-LEJr9PcjVze5YP595emUWHzaoe01G128mrJ6TDl10tDXg7x0gmNxX7rkcpfpMDfFrp_PmpZLFtmLst3Fbtf8ukRdQ6xTdc3CYWeCuEIA9L736bNv2Qb3MakbqcM9_70Gvjc88/s1600/IMG_2177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTXwfX-LEJr9PcjVze5YP595emUWHzaoe01G128mrJ6TDl10tDXg7x0gmNxX7rkcpfpMDfFrp_PmpZLFtmLst3Fbtf8ukRdQ6xTdc3CYWeCuEIA9L736bNv2Qb3MakbqcM9_70Gvjc88/s320/IMG_2177.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small kids, Big church. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijxxepdmd3LloqzBf62GV_POxIRmjA9S8v2eulbRC1AlCPl0vz5XmGDj8NWmQ5-3cSrXbLEquJcOl0Xrve9fSHoUMxjxj6HMsGU0L2yQdWPFOCdE94xSKdPGz0YTk-GD7E0mSbvOmiK3E/s1600/IMG_2178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijxxepdmd3LloqzBf62GV_POxIRmjA9S8v2eulbRC1AlCPl0vz5XmGDj8NWmQ5-3cSrXbLEquJcOl0Xrve9fSHoUMxjxj6HMsGU0L2yQdWPFOCdE94xSKdPGz0YTk-GD7E0mSbvOmiK3E/s320/IMG_2178.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Churros with rich hot chocolate: the perfect snack to warm up on a cold January evening. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm quickly falling in love with the Basque Country, for obvious reasons! <br />
<br />
But there is work involved, and I'm also looking forward to that too. Next on the agenda:<br />
<br />
A much-anticipated visit to the Sammic factory to get to know the sponsors of this awesome scholarship and learn more about their products. I previously hadn't heard of Sammic, but I'm now learning they make nearly every large piece of equipment needed in a professional kitchen, from blenders, mixers and meat grinders to immersion circulators and vacuum sealers. <br />
<br />
In this video, Marco Bahena (my partner from last year's Pellegrino Almost Famous cooking competition) demonstrates how a Sammic Vegetable Prep Machine can make a cook's life a whole lot easier.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/sVcicCZXrd8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's probably too late to say <i>All I want for Christmas</i>... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
This upcoming visit to the factory should be enlightening because we will meet the engineers who design tools to help us cook at a higher level. Photos to follow! <br />
<br />
<span id="goog_632321495"></span><span id="goog_632321496"></span><br />
Also, we are planning a visit to Biarritz in France to see more of the Basque region. I have a
feeling this visit will be especially taxing; there probably won't be
any pastries or lovely scenery involved.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading. Agur from Lasarte...Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-55849292125395078592012-01-08T14:08:00.000-08:002012-01-08T14:08:13.345-08:00A quick look homeward as I start my next adventure<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I’ve just arrived in <a href="http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lasarte-Oria" target="_blank">Lasarte-Oria, Guipuzkoa</a>, a small town
outside San Sebastian in the Basque Country. I traveled for twenty-six hours through
Dallas, Frankfurt, and Bilbao. Now I'm so tired, I can't sleep. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Yes, I’m tired, but mostly I’m excited. I’m thrilled for <a href="http://www.basquestage.com/" target="_blank">my new job</a>, which I’ll start on Wednesday. I’m itching to go for a run through my new
town. I’m dying to go grocery shopping and fill my refrigerator with
vegetables, cheeses and <a href="http://cameronrolka.com/2011/12/06/visit-txakoli-bodega/" target="_blank">txakoli wine</a>. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I’m anxious too, because this level of cooking- three
Michelin stars, in Europe, at <a href="http://www.martinberasategui.com/" target="_blank">a gorgeous, respected restaurant</a>- is the highest
level I’ve experienced in my career thus far. So how does this young cook deal with
nerves? I’m telling myself that I can do it, and I’m thinking about all my
wonderful experiences and supportive friends and family who have helped me get
here. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">So before I start this next adventure in earnest, I'll share </span><span style="font-size: small;">some of the beautiful food moments from the past couple weeks. I’m so fortunate that my
family embraces and celebrates food. I am fortunate to have friends who value food, and to
come from a region that produces some of the best food in the world. </span><br />
<br />
Here’s a quick snapshot of my holiday meals.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Ninong Tom carves the lechon for Noche Buena. Roast pig...mmmmm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DjxZUrBrdNenQ2_MIk6mKJfnEL-vmL-T2zhDHxvbxy8OxxhuIhQn9CeTmeGW6ZaptjZPzimKNG7o-WWce9vbrADoR8zuE62-q3Xds8orbE5w-yS0p8YEezpbeyJIkNmgum2ODv4xB-o/s1600/IMG_2036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DjxZUrBrdNenQ2_MIk6mKJfnEL-vmL-T2zhDHxvbxy8OxxhuIhQn9CeTmeGW6ZaptjZPzimKNG7o-WWce9vbrADoR8zuE62-q3Xds8orbE5w-yS0p8YEezpbeyJIkNmgum2ODv4xB-o/s320/IMG_2036.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My father and my uncle, making our traditional Swedish pancake breakfast on Christmas morning </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gorgeous fruits of their labor with the mandatory Lingonberry sauce</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas dinner is my grandfather's recipe: garlic-studded, bacon-wrapped rib roast. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mise en place often involves champagne right up in there with the brussel sprouts. </td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Selby men attend to the festive colors of the dining table</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carving the roast, which was a little overdone this year. Chickie wouldn't have been pleased!</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Mama and my friend Caroline at my send-off dinner last week </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just before opening the buffet with Pantesca salad, kale Caesar, risotto, veal breast and lasagne. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">That's the last collection of photos from home. For the next six months, it’s going to be all new surroundings, all new faces, and all new
challenges. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Stay tuned! Good night... </span></div>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-14149653821158183212011-12-12T12:24:00.000-08:002011-12-12T12:24:04.996-08:00Olive Oil Shortbread Cookies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/pages/dining/index.html" target="_blank">The New York Times Dining Section</a> ran two great pieces last
week: one, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/30/dining/notable-cookbooks-of-2011.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha210" target="_blank">a list of the Best Cookbooks of the Year</a>, and another about the most
noticeable trend, the “At Home” style of cookbook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Julia Moskin’s piece, “<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/30/dining/when-the-chefs-come-home.html?n=Top/Reference/Times%20Topics/People/M/Moskin,%20Julia?ref=juliamoskin" target="_blank">What Happens When Chefs Come Home,</a>” underscores a crucial shift in cookbook consumers: people
want recipes of stuff they can actually cook. Glossy studio shots of the
unattainable sphere are out; hamburgers and Caesar salad are in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In her “When Chefs Come Home” piece, Moskin mentions a
recipe for Shortbread Biscuits that wisely substitutes olive oil for butter.
Still high on my October visit to Tuscany for olive oil crush at <a href="http://www.villacampestri.com/" target="_blank">Villa Campestri,</a>
I thought <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I have to try this</i>. I found
<a href="http://www.wendypaulcreations.com/2010/02/olive-oil-shortbread-cookies.html" target="_blank">a recipe for olive oil shortbread</a> and then considered my oil choice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though vegetal and grassy, the bright green Villa Campestri
oil could add an interesting twist to the butter bomb that traditional shortbread
can be. Or I could end up with a bitter, greenish biscuit. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Only one
way to find out... </div>
<br />
The verdict? Moskin is right: olive oil greatly improves
this classic cookie. I could easily see the Villa Campestri restaurant serving
them with afternoon tea on the terrace.<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM3tJyUH-dnSL7BH-iT6TakSK_deK-OTjbf4QI9X00Ntqy5yyV3LVLmMJVJ2CP8_kD_nG9XoYh0qZXlCJ9ZV6TcR8AuIKKk_viqVk4odoOGEiyL2cUnSjuLaq1-SQ4iAbsavI2uDpj4kc/s1600/shortbread+cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM3tJyUH-dnSL7BH-iT6TakSK_deK-OTjbf4QI9X00Ntqy5yyV3LVLmMJVJ2CP8_kD_nG9XoYh0qZXlCJ9ZV6TcR8AuIKKk_viqVk4odoOGEiyL2cUnSjuLaq1-SQ4iAbsavI2uDpj4kc/s320/shortbread+cookies.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olive oil adds a luxurious yet subtle flavor boost. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Admittedly, these cookies aren’t quite as crumbly as traditional shortbread, but they trade texture
for a rich, more nuanced flavor. There’s simply more going on than the average
shortbread cookie. I don’t get palate fatigue from butter overload, which is a
fancy way of saying “I eat them five at a time.” <span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These cookies are also comparatively more healthful since we've lost the saturated fat of butter.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m excited to have found yet another
recipe that is improved with the addition of quality olive oil. Maybe these
cookies will be left by the Christmas tree this year... </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-23247265566047036512011-12-02T16:30:00.000-08:002011-12-02T16:45:29.511-08:00Riding Around ManhattanYesterday I rode my bicycle around all of Manhattan. The <a href="http://www.nycgovparks.org/sub_things_to_do/facilities/images/manhattan-waterfront-greenway.pdf" target="_blank">thirty-two mile loop</a> took me six hours with a few breaks. <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxYAzybkQN5BOmQ73FvhmBVJBS7uGj_QBbDZ53BVIxjcl_Bx08PeAJVd5HaFbYKO3FO3gLpcd-GeQKuJiNvuwoBMVY_yJ0gjOo4xRzTgRqHUyx6b9Cbsyhx9B_kSklZ6hsOqsPo2jFyI/s1600/IMG_1844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxYAzybkQN5BOmQ73FvhmBVJBS7uGj_QBbDZ53BVIxjcl_Bx08PeAJVd5HaFbYKO3FO3gLpcd-GeQKuJiNvuwoBMVY_yJ0gjOo4xRzTgRqHUyx6b9Cbsyhx9B_kSklZ6hsOqsPo2jFyI/s320/IMG_1844.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">My cruiser bike, Bess. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We are cut from the same cloth, Bess and I: both laid-back California girls out of place in a big, fast city. While bike messengers and Brooklyn hipsters dart in and out of traffic, Bess and I cruise only the streets with well-marked bike lanes. We are outsiders here, little girls looking in, thus it makes sense for us to circumnavigate Manhattan, rather than criss-cross it. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the six years that I’ve been in and out of this city, yesterday’s ride was one of the most enjoyable things I’ve ever done. Here’s how it went. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I left NoHo around 8:45am. I headed southwest and popped out to the West Side Highway via West Houston St. I then started up the Hudson River, shivering and slapping my gloved hands trying to stay warm. Of course I picked the coldest day of the year so far! Yet, the sun was shining, and the crisp air kept me pedaling. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">One of the first people I saw on the West Side Highway was... my brother Ben! </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHqPeOgHgj3NUGEBRKKdJZOMGlyOridqPVJeNSGk-sy4fk52JIiQ9cIe8jkm099ntLa-7C2PRbH-0HaiFPY8KV8aga53aKzwwispziEKapxK7T6f24eiCiZwBHH7Pqe1OHOra81OXIqs/s1600/IMG_1848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHqPeOgHgj3NUGEBRKKdJZOMGlyOridqPVJeNSGk-sy4fk52JIiQ9cIe8jkm099ntLa-7C2PRbH-0HaiFPY8KV8aga53aKzwwispziEKapxK7T6f24eiCiZwBHH7Pqe1OHOra81OXIqs/s320/IMG_1848.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Hustling down to work in TriBeCa, Ben stopped and turned around, and we had to laugh at our happy coincidence. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvovwvAUXK3rdqM7QMtSO4DqeCcfqZIQUy8-TWNSlCJv9ev81R_cb3_N0O-ph7R3GPQD_eZFlnLDQ-K9gl3BWvVN9jQkghQa1y-nrRa-0QRPHuUbLeCMv9Ijlv8WRCnDwkZsCBm8OywY/s1600/IMG_1846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvovwvAUXK3rdqM7QMtSO4DqeCcfqZIQUy8-TWNSlCJv9ev81R_cb3_N0O-ph7R3GPQD_eZFlnLDQ-K9gl3BWvVN9jQkghQa1y-nrRa-0QRPHuUbLeCMv9Ijlv8WRCnDwkZsCBm8OywY/s320/IMG_1846.JPG" width="238" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal">Two Selby kids, riding bikes in New York, and both with cut-finger gloves too! He wished me a safe ride, and pushed south. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I turned north and kept riding, only to stop again at the sight of the USS Intrepid. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpjYGr5gj-sZOvg9zGEK0EYR-2D_l7-0_9UKLzRJeZPAfYJJAKKqDlDCf3MfOGEc8LPbW0GXKz27OgNZxJJB0bk1jC4g0LQ3DIXJZgygdDLfHT8KhpKtRKO2btFord00MOUy1tBJ2JMs/s1600/IMG_1849.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpjYGr5gj-sZOvg9zGEK0EYR-2D_l7-0_9UKLzRJeZPAfYJJAKKqDlDCf3MfOGEc8LPbW0GXKz27OgNZxJJB0bk1jC4g0LQ3DIXJZgygdDLfHT8KhpKtRKO2btFord00MOUy1tBJ2JMs/s320/IMG_1849.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Soon, I was past the strollers and the mothers of the Upper West Side, and I approached the top of the island.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3epHFcIX7AF9vYt4z3LtOBzzEIvWmjr2ewEQaZBY6zOYcyltmmJqxn3dME9Zlz53Dk0OAfLbC_BKlNraw7jTvsBqLlwUDYJJFb-sH6swcYyDSBcM8mDZi3maJXR5GkPg1Jc8Jr8SQNNA/s1600/IMG_1864.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3epHFcIX7AF9vYt4z3LtOBzzEIvWmjr2ewEQaZBY6zOYcyltmmJqxn3dME9Zlz53Dk0OAfLbC_BKlNraw7jTvsBqLlwUDYJJFb-sH6swcYyDSBcM8mDZi3maJXR5GkPg1Jc8Jr8SQNNA/s320/IMG_1864.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">At the George Washington Bridge </div><br />
I learned that my beach cruiser is quite heavy, but that fact works in my favor in the hills of Harlem. I learned that riding along the Hudson is much colder than riding the East River. I learned that the New York City Parks and Recreation Department has done a pretty thorough job with the signage for the Greenway path around the whole city. I got lost once- on East 158<sup>th</sup> St.- and only because I didn’t follow the path far enough.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyi8tYd3bEQzV4tFA1tLIr1lAbenYAS1pZ-kL3-lC6EpOFbYb5xYH_T7wbRAuU0B93G4PWbcMl9kKywjpcShKibLmPv_etesMxcXNgmYKkVWLfUg6fddu1XF-td1UDGWtR1V2RiSW_TLI/s1600/IMG_1865.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyi8tYd3bEQzV4tFA1tLIr1lAbenYAS1pZ-kL3-lC6EpOFbYb5xYH_T7wbRAuU0B93G4PWbcMl9kKywjpcShKibLmPv_etesMxcXNgmYKkVWLfUg6fddu1XF-td1UDGWtR1V2RiSW_TLI/s320/IMG_1865.JPG" width="239" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy to reach the half-way point </div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As you might expect on these riverside pathways, I saw lots and lots of dogs. I saw plenty of people running, and many people just aimlessly strolling. I heard conversations between old friends about wives and grandchildren; I eavesdropped on a few animated phone arguments. I saw people of all shapes and sizes training at the East River track, including a boxer who couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall, his fists pumping so fast they blurred his face. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I saw the undergirding of thirteen bridges and one cable car, the completely out-of-place Roosevelt Island Tramway.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwYKVM_phNx0WJJ8Aq7eQl2viRk4kmmrkkzLZa89v8CopIcT1zVbJUWRD-kxTkXkRyYo0q-xWS4ABNPPY5zJkBDv_0BrgyGoHQ2QKkDDSIZlH4EdO4yq9aCZ5zKwbiZON9_zgVf8_Bu0/s1600/IMG_1885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwYKVM_phNx0WJJ8Aq7eQl2viRk4kmmrkkzLZa89v8CopIcT1zVbJUWRD-kxTkXkRyYo0q-xWS4ABNPPY5zJkBDv_0BrgyGoHQ2QKkDDSIZlH4EdO4yq9aCZ5zKwbiZON9_zgVf8_Bu0/s320/IMG_1885.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Looking south under the Manhattan Bridge. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal">I saw countless delivery guys with plastic bag lunches swinging from their handle bars. I noticed many of the Chinese delivery guys have semi-motorized bicycles that propel them even when they’re not pedaling; I’m not even sure how the mechanics work. The Mexican guys just flat out hustle, some with helmets, some without. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Most delightful was the view of many elementary school playgrounds from the bike path: I saw hundreds of New York City school children running around, playing kickball, jumping and screaming in the early winter morning. Recess- what a wonderful reminder of the child in us all.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpjYGr5gj-sZOvg9zGEK0EYR-2D_l7-0_9UKLzRJeZPAfYJJAKKqDlDCf3MfOGEc8LPbW0GXKz27OgNZxJJB0bk1jC4g0LQ3DIXJZgygdDLfHT8KhpKtRKO2btFord00MOUy1tBJ2JMs/s1600/IMG_1849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsR1WIdn704Uw8T_iQn7sEMqbU3UwIJhmIE2xv8ceTOQTGB0g3VfZk6x654dqSrr4rdp-1hY0vqI_T8PoAggPIzWxhdlDA4KQ4nnlaFlCN19aaqESiEyqPQr6SMbix77VtdLfFw6AIj8/s1600/IMG_1867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsR1WIdn704Uw8T_iQn7sEMqbU3UwIJhmIE2xv8ceTOQTGB0g3VfZk6x654dqSrr4rdp-1hY0vqI_T8PoAggPIzWxhdlDA4KQ4nnlaFlCN19aaqESiEyqPQr6SMbix77VtdLfFw6AIj8/s320/IMG_1867.JPG" width="238" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A gorgeous burst of color against the granite of the Harlem River Parkway </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXdOV0bm3NmgwTsbgL4JGm_sqHIOH5evaAzkoxqxVLfGBD4Jg1yaov1QbjlK8r1h7Pq4e7Z7-clNHjhOrlK4Wt1Kf7ZbSRq0B_lxE0gLwmn08L7l_o84r9mD81yrItyg5BLwGAJ1HMao/s1600/IMG_1868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXdOV0bm3NmgwTsbgL4JGm_sqHIOH5evaAzkoxqxVLfGBD4Jg1yaov1QbjlK8r1h7Pq4e7Z7-clNHjhOrlK4Wt1Kf7ZbSRq0B_lxE0gLwmn08L7l_o84r9mD81yrItyg5BLwGAJ1HMao/s320/IMG_1868.JPG" width="238" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Bess looking mighty small in comparison to some Harlem River highrises </div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even a day later, I still remember vividly the smells on my ride. I suppose in a car you’re either going too fast to notice, or the cabby’s got his own special aroma. In contrast, on a bicycle, I was going slow enough to really notice the changes in smell. Most were quite pleasant; in the morning part of my ride, I caught many warm bread smells from bakeries. Another frequent scent was fresh laundry; I could actually tell the difference between Mountain Breeze and Fresh Linen! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">More than once, I smelled the oregano-sweet of marijuana. Only once did I smell sewage- at the Riverbank State Park treatment plant at West 135<sup>th</sup> St. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Several times I got the unmistakable and familiar smell of deep fryer oil. Doughnuts? Chicken? Empanadas? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The bike path is blocked on the East River from East 70<sup>th</sup> St to East 38<sup>th</sup>, so I had to cut into the madness of traffic. I took 2<sup>nd</sup> Avenue down, hiding in the relative safety of its bike lane. I was pleasantly surprised by the smell of fresh cut pine and fir from Christmas tree vendors lining the sidewalk. Despite the honking, the delivery truck exhaust and the swerving taxi cabs, I had to smile when I smelled Christmas.<br />
<br />
I made it down to the Lower East Side, and I was saddened to see the shuttered Fulton Fish Market. I’m currently reading a book called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food </i>by Paul Greenberg, and the outlook for many fisheries is not good. I suppose the New York harbor and its immediate surroundings haven’t been great fishing waters for at least two generations, but it was sad to see such a tangible reminder that fish are no longer caught here. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJgRY41LY8Ajo_GNLlq4NT_Uz72vki0tmog0y5rBUcouJysSv0mIw0ma7_VKXknIRAc6eD3A64_7vCUix-XuX8eJubW4PFcAxXORkCXlRbIdudEfAtq2sVVeCOeBMn2K7EkcKtXvp7yxw/s1600/IMG_1890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJgRY41LY8Ajo_GNLlq4NT_Uz72vki0tmog0y5rBUcouJysSv0mIw0ma7_VKXknIRAc6eD3A64_7vCUix-XuX8eJubW4PFcAxXORkCXlRbIdudEfAtq2sVVeCOeBMn2K7EkcKtXvp7yxw/s320/IMG_1890.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Fulton Fish Market, now just a parking lot </div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I also tested out the best 99 cents I've spent recently- the 360 app from Occipital. It will stitch together images in sequence to give you panoramic shots with the iPhone. AMAZING. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cjdhLHe1hnfsnKpFf1eCBdvsNhdRkLHBHZqujFYGkyEmEaGcBxWATa_ctzuv92qhuL5IchO7USEiy5aKm35h9gHOTOlBbpW5E47WgHqVrH0gmXyNyr-7Sg75gs3YQDHc56safVRGqnw/s1600/IMG_1888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cjdhLHe1hnfsnKpFf1eCBdvsNhdRkLHBHZqujFYGkyEmEaGcBxWATa_ctzuv92qhuL5IchO7USEiy5aKm35h9gHOTOlBbpW5E47WgHqVrH0gmXyNyr-7Sg75gs3YQDHc56safVRGqnw/s320/IMG_1888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bess hanging out under the Brooklyn Bridge </div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I made it down to Wall Street, around Clinton Castle and caught the Statue of Liberty in the auburn afternoon sun.<br />
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<a href="http://360.io/MDbMSy">An enhanced 360 view of New York Harbor</a> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Still quite cold and by now genuinely hungry (despite my cheese sandwich and hard-boiled egg snack), I stopped in Battery Park City for some fries and a milkshake at the new downtown location of Shake Shack. Unlike the Madison Square Park location, there were NO LINES. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sated with a little salt and a little something sweet, I returned to the bike path and headed once again up the Hudson. It had taken me a little over six hours, with water breaks, three potty stops, tons of photo ops, some detours and some walking to avoid dense traffic, but I had done it: I rode my bicycle around Manhattan. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlP2tOz_KpePUEaEDETfcO0RmdRq6oVCOjO_JP6UNR7_wurBxGKvRTMPk39BZpUyAgfIDcKULb3uHIUT2L6ITRqSjezCXtZ6FA6UNndhCEbFdhrRvKnG7u3Ivyzk9LWTOsstjF2MnSwYs/s1600/IMG_1898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlP2tOz_KpePUEaEDETfcO0RmdRq6oVCOjO_JP6UNR7_wurBxGKvRTMPk39BZpUyAgfIDcKULb3uHIUT2L6ITRqSjezCXtZ6FA6UNndhCEbFdhrRvKnG7u3Ivyzk9LWTOsstjF2MnSwYs/s320/IMG_1898.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Just before turning off the West Side Highway and heading home </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">No awards were given, no personal best time record was set. And I wouldn’t even say that the experience changed me. Rather, it was an enjoyable day that reminded me to keep my eyes open wide to the wonder that is this city. </div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-2424522978260039952011-11-15T19:31:00.000-08:002011-11-15T19:31:23.850-08:00Chestnut Pasta Party for OneIt's a rainy night here in New York City. I hurried home and realized I had nothing for dinner. ...Or did I?<br />
<br />
Hiding in the freezer was some chestnut pasta dough. Several weeks ago, I made chestnut flour pappardelle for dinner, but the batch was too big for that evening. In Italy, I learned that fresh pasta dough can be frozen with no ill effects, so we froze it.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to tonight:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmbQZ54sbuRr4XWN0e5e8DKFLW0-YFVRhq8iap3S_UcRxQb4UVsgQw_Jq9AH0RJ-s1__Ehgxc5xY27jFQ3HIFdmrdRXHu1HekmJZvMGkEhLyDx3k43liYa2ZbAxLjFekKhBpj8RlOm8M/s1600/IMG_4589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmbQZ54sbuRr4XWN0e5e8DKFLW0-YFVRhq8iap3S_UcRxQb4UVsgQw_Jq9AH0RJ-s1__Ehgxc5xY27jFQ3HIFdmrdRXHu1HekmJZvMGkEhLyDx3k43liYa2ZbAxLjFekKhBpj8RlOm8M/s320/IMG_4589.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Cutting fettuccini</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Pj_cueoP7gk6GjngOOYeLuYIC5dutf7pme6fVEDEW_-2ZRfbVQgAl6cCXHct0qRXL_CWdGEWVV7kSQdbPvM8La5gu0UNHGyzyBW_gEOrfTPV2tz1RF6uz5jlZRrt6aEI0yaeXN9yZ00/s1600/IMG_4590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Pj_cueoP7gk6GjngOOYeLuYIC5dutf7pme6fVEDEW_-2ZRfbVQgAl6cCXHct0qRXL_CWdGEWVV7kSQdbPvM8La5gu0UNHGyzyBW_gEOrfTPV2tz1RF6uz5jlZRrt6aEI0yaeXN9yZ00/s320/IMG_4590.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Tiny noodle nests </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-Y-U1gAfWAKBQXLGUT6LY9rH4raZ1f6niZu32zedI5b0F_fSlbE8_MTmmyqwpeyLDcspV4_k_-eJ4buVtccm6lO5r9XX9Jle2MzpmNm6puDZQ2RsNpoF_RDAd5x0iv1W9hhN1kRhRjc/s1600/IMG_4591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-Y-U1gAfWAKBQXLGUT6LY9rH4raZ1f6niZu32zedI5b0F_fSlbE8_MTmmyqwpeyLDcspV4_k_-eJ4buVtccm6lO5r9XX9Jle2MzpmNm6puDZQ2RsNpoF_RDAd5x0iv1W9hhN1kRhRjc/s320/IMG_4591.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Going for a quick dip...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihl32JSi_-yjVoO3GNwz2GbZHgJt1pdU5h-CRz5UAkurDuW9K-BNOoWFs81R-gzbVSW5SH8xyRki3EqjhPtGIpn2oVvcaRT3eWDno_4iqhAaMxP8uF3S4UsIXbdav5HGbFXz2OEDfm3xo/s1600/IMG_4592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihl32JSi_-yjVoO3GNwz2GbZHgJt1pdU5h-CRz5UAkurDuW9K-BNOoWFs81R-gzbVSW5SH8xyRki3EqjhPtGIpn2oVvcaRT3eWDno_4iqhAaMxP8uF3S4UsIXbdav5HGbFXz2OEDfm3xo/s320/IMG_4592.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Fresh pasta only needs 2 minutes to cook. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Totally makes up for the hands-on time. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGNNvt-rEIK_pUpPirnzbrEsdWMx7_NAjKmaYce3DBWDKa7dJEnSBBJBf6zucj-dOKVpai_MkzrUfargHhoAHaNTwMtJB97SZvEUrUh77q_pAkItH1gc1edtqs4tfO3rofYoUqcHXjkk/s1600/IMG_4593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGNNvt-rEIK_pUpPirnzbrEsdWMx7_NAjKmaYce3DBWDKa7dJEnSBBJBf6zucj-dOKVpai_MkzrUfargHhoAHaNTwMtJB97SZvEUrUh77q_pAkItH1gc1edtqs4tfO3rofYoUqcHXjkk/s320/IMG_4593.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The sparse toppings I was able to rustle up: </div><div style="text-align: center;">Olive oil pressed this October at Villa Campestri </div><div style="text-align: center;">Crumbled blue cheese</div><div style="text-align: center;">Some chopped celery leaves for color. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Did I mention the fridge was nearly empty? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2atb0HA9GeOGhb1wBmpdbFXwWVZ3IT5tw8ode_iadZ-J1osuO2XSdNrPCSWEDFEY1e_DPiJ9gYvG8Ohm3NjjXFQIrCwimNE2YiF92hMEkcdZ5Pfsgm7h5KeGF8ZomOw28rtYNYmlcKk/s1600/IMG_4594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2atb0HA9GeOGhb1wBmpdbFXwWVZ3IT5tw8ode_iadZ-J1osuO2XSdNrPCSWEDFEY1e_DPiJ9gYvG8Ohm3NjjXFQIrCwimNE2YiF92hMEkcdZ5Pfsgm7h5KeGF8ZomOw28rtYNYmlcKk/s320/IMG_4594.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> But it all turned out pretty damn delicious. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
Easy Pasta Ratio Rules:<br />
For every one egg, use 100g of flour.<br />
Also, one egg = one portion.<br />
So if you have 10 people coming over for dinner, use 10 eggs and 1kg of flour.<br />
If you want to use chestnut flour like I did for tonight's fettuccini, use 50/50 chestnut flour and Tipo 0 pasta flour.<br />
<br />
Thanks to the boys in the Villa Campestri Restaurant in Vicchio di Mugello for all the pasta knowledge. Grazie infinite Jerry e Samuele!Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-26085179418833221552011-10-19T02:56:00.000-07:002011-10-19T02:56:16.016-07:00AmorOlio at Villa Campestri<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4_PEmgwNux0J0KdDw303WOmM-JWLYDEWcAAg3F0u43eqcUBNKWHWxW9HeYljlSJ2l-r-Tgi4xJY155VZaBejrxAGl2GYLmPtUBu4gWWI2EW7eeP3WLRqOVvIdxfmFFeASX45YkcWi7Y/s1600/IMG_3438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4_PEmgwNux0J0KdDw303WOmM-JWLYDEWcAAg3F0u43eqcUBNKWHWxW9HeYljlSJ2l-r-Tgi4xJY155VZaBejrxAGl2GYLmPtUBu4gWWI2EW7eeP3WLRqOVvIdxfmFFeASX45YkcWi7Y/s320/IMG_3438.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I'm in Vicchio di Mugello, a tiny Tuscan town about 30 minutes northeast of Florence. The hills are perfect for long walks, the pasta is delicious, and the olive oil is like nothing I've ever tasted. A cold and windy winter is just around the corner, so luckily there are no American film crews and no huge tour buses clogging the roads.<br />
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Thanks to the very generous Paolo Pasquali and <a href="http://nancyharmonjenkins.com/">Nancy Harmon Jenkins</a>, I'm tagging along as an assistant for <a href="http://nancyharmonjenkins.com/oil/home.html">AmorOlio</a>, a week-long immersion in olive oil culture and Tuscan cuisine. This visit has proved quite timely, as olive oil makes headlines in both <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/19/dining/californias-olive-oils-challenge-europes.html?_r=1&ref=dining">the New York Times</a> and <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/food/beyond-extra-virgin-new-standard-aims-to-guarantee-quality-in-olive-oil/2011/10/13/gIQAG8Q1uL_story.html">the Wall Street Journal</a>.<br />
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In the past three days, we have inspected olive groves and visited traditional mills where olive oil is pressed. Through lively tasting sessions, we have discussed the taste of great oil, the different ways it can be spoiled (heat, exposure to oxygen, and light), and how to educate consumers without condescension. Of course, we have cooked every day to test food pairings with dramatically different oil styles. It's been a great post-graduation trip to decompress from culinary school while still staying inspired by food.<br />
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Here are a couple photographs from our time so far at <a href="http://www.villacampestri.com/home_it">Villa Campestri</a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4JF70BP4cS-8cLztUHTvuMR9WSl24zH_qvDDCuNlVUAyBRZ25lLiSR5DUu_CCfbxhXaSUF-i1D4Q9WiYhCAaTFidaqjUDi1N2qZnH2r7Ke5CQBsSsJZCPllZLLwodrBbf65Bso7yEl4/s1600/IMG_3476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4JF70BP4cS-8cLztUHTvuMR9WSl24zH_qvDDCuNlVUAyBRZ25lLiSR5DUu_CCfbxhXaSUF-i1D4Q9WiYhCAaTFidaqjUDi1N2qZnH2r7Ke5CQBsSsJZCPllZLLwodrBbf65Bso7yEl4/s320/IMG_3476.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Green olives one week before harvest</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIYWXhk9uusq5JhjPrxAWcBDJakTpXCsyCXKAsMZPvDw-aMgZ_pBq1eCOqv8NYxIjasVVbe7MaUNztjuzDJ5uNagN-7SRuANJlnfSpQNBtBwPw3UHIN6seyEGuw9Pq7Q7XKsgy6lSFqk/s1600/IMG_3424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIYWXhk9uusq5JhjPrxAWcBDJakTpXCsyCXKAsMZPvDw-aMgZ_pBq1eCOqv8NYxIjasVVbe7MaUNztjuzDJ5uNagN-7SRuANJlnfSpQNBtBwPw3UHIN6seyEGuw9Pq7Q7XKsgy6lSFqk/s320/IMG_3424.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The set-up for olive oil tasting </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJXF6Wv6J3slEha-P0N4YUk4MJZo-sGEc4DGQG9lLkKHsOIDZVKMdsIPo3Jkk6td7FPsfSmsXY3pVx1utiELiq7KXDAB7czu2o5ulq-HmqsJUge3Q5nIFq9J_UbLyJYooXFmFeATR81gc/s1600/IMG_3484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJXF6Wv6J3slEha-P0N4YUk4MJZo-sGEc4DGQG9lLkKHsOIDZVKMdsIPo3Jkk6td7FPsfSmsXY3pVx1utiELiq7KXDAB7czu2o5ulq-HmqsJUge3Q5nIFq9J_UbLyJYooXFmFeATR81gc/s320/IMG_3484.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> A meat counter in the San Lorenzo Mercato Centrale in Florence. </div><div style="text-align: center;">The market is a great place to learn food vocabulary, like hen (gallina), turkey (tacchino), or rabbit (coniglio.)</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's also reassuring to see that "Hot Dogs" are the same in Italian. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDcaRFF6wacS6UqYLv71Zd_3FbxM2afxuHcpuzMtM49yeemZaWgI0-Em13gV4zLx5bc0eB-1eUACycUWcqmEbbvxhNKXEMbtRZ9fOgP43c7J_39dQIxH4AGH6X5RZAGz6XtPJKX76BWms/s1600/IMG_3487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDcaRFF6wacS6UqYLv71Zd_3FbxM2afxuHcpuzMtM49yeemZaWgI0-Em13gV4zLx5bc0eB-1eUACycUWcqmEbbvxhNKXEMbtRZ9fOgP43c7J_39dQIxH4AGH6X5RZAGz6XtPJKX76BWms/s320/IMG_3487.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The gorgeous colors of the produce section</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYbnkho-J68oUGp6tXHchPwASQ4Cor-pTWsAzHqIxma8K8G6FbVY7mrw2UADm1lt1xHpiNQSkbGseVAmwEV0uW2LSRBvQKmdpA2aWintHbbw6zlTf5-qeuWpfPrgENZ44bpvdHT3cYAA/s1600/IMG_3461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYbnkho-J68oUGp6tXHchPwASQ4Cor-pTWsAzHqIxma8K8G6FbVY7mrw2UADm1lt1xHpiNQSkbGseVAmwEV0uW2LSRBvQKmdpA2aWintHbbw6zlTf5-qeuWpfPrgENZ44bpvdHT3cYAA/s320/IMG_3461.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Back at Villa Campestri's kitchen, Samuele puts the finishing touches on dessert: </div><div style="text-align: center;">olive oil cake with ricotta and wild berry coulis. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8IxRZpdnFVH1gbMZnSQlKOlkTjUjM6dy85EaLpslzp-LwHnZxX8-8_VoD7E8OKfBAemABqcGyHPh1eTEk92TzMYQl_Vi26WoMvvJmNvC6YdqWwojsXjAu-ZUuTEXkp2H_f9gYrGhKII/s1600/IMG_3557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8IxRZpdnFVH1gbMZnSQlKOlkTjUjM6dy85EaLpslzp-LwHnZxX8-8_VoD7E8OKfBAemABqcGyHPh1eTEk92TzMYQl_Vi26WoMvvJmNvC6YdqWwojsXjAu-ZUuTEXkp2H_f9gYrGhKII/s320/IMG_3557.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Chef Jerry holds a beautiful example of a porcini mushroom. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3v9da7sZwi-dNPtdHDg12NmDybwYpacAD8bpSJ3qxG31vaVK1aXyYK9eUDhKfEJg_Ve3zRZ6YFs4FzSv1ycjgYZAIV5FRgB_0i1f6DTwfkpYu00zk5JGWOzFvF2FouefraYSaWZLv0g/s1600/IMG_3507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3v9da7sZwi-dNPtdHDg12NmDybwYpacAD8bpSJ3qxG31vaVK1aXyYK9eUDhKfEJg_Ve3zRZ6YFs4FzSv1ycjgYZAIV5FRgB_0i1f6DTwfkpYu00zk5JGWOzFvF2FouefraYSaWZLv0g/s320/IMG_3507.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> In Florence, chocolate truffles come in a too-cute cupola box. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nJe9B053Qk1HuhZYpiwuJIMNDpTxq1lHWWGF_PRzzqHs-IO1APrAXRP4Y4_3MjIfXOa36F6hgP7L-pf-msOFPUOG-NO5NjJhJCuh_9WPVbD3GfkCLcq8mBCQjtKOHHBVDFhnvdbS7nc/s1600/IMG_3582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nJe9B053Qk1HuhZYpiwuJIMNDpTxq1lHWWGF_PRzzqHs-IO1APrAXRP4Y4_3MjIfXOa36F6hgP7L-pf-msOFPUOG-NO5NjJhJCuh_9WPVbD3GfkCLcq8mBCQjtKOHHBVDFhnvdbS7nc/s320/IMG_3582.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Porcini Mushroom Risotto with a glass of Vernaccia in hand</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgawMnCIhKA_byO0jE2eFmxdQ-oHm4bS7PBFjDHeZhacyxZSKfVJEExLixqYgHQMjp4cNnsE_EGGadTNz3GMlcfNBCG4Bx1wrOdmuPSqDeL6pegwc0nDGGu5d9fQk2JAgVnhZdStSZNEk/s1600/IMG_3437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgawMnCIhKA_byO0jE2eFmxdQ-oHm4bS7PBFjDHeZhacyxZSKfVJEExLixqYgHQMjp4cNnsE_EGGadTNz3GMlcfNBCG4Bx1wrOdmuPSqDeL6pegwc0nDGGu5d9fQk2JAgVnhZdStSZNEk/s320/IMG_3437.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.villacampestri.com/">Villa Campestri Olive Oil Resort</a>, my home for the week. </div><div style="text-align: center;">(I'm still pinching myself!)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I've learned a lot about high quality olive oil; it can be sweet, grassy, peppery or lemony. It can be structured and complex, like wine. It can also spoil rancid or get moldy if it was poorly pressed or improperly stored. Bright green at first, olive oil will lose its color- and its healthy polyphenol properties- as it gets older or if exposed to high heat during storage. If you have a bottle of nice olive oil, use it! Olive oil is best fresh. The longer it lives in the cabinet or by the stove, the less flavor it will bring to your plate. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I'm hoping to bring home a couple cans of high quality oil from Villa Campestri, named Olio di Cosimo for Pasquali's grandson. It's peppery, bright green, reminiscent of artichoke and a freshly-cut lawn. Once I get back to New York (Mon Oct 24th), I'm planning to make salad, some butternut squash soup, maybe even a pizza to find the best pairing with this delicious oil. Give me a buzz if you want to join! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">With love, from Vicchio</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-48240364935843737942011-10-10T15:48:00.000-07:002011-10-10T16:19:35.270-07:00Coming Full Circle: My Experience Raising Chickens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6OeZ9xCA6yP_81m_21eKPgxAizhuiG2HPzXOQ0vZL1X4d8rLiOTmZna138OVHm2Gms9R7YOpp6J1qNt8CBMT-krqVpHWCVtzF_uwWd1YzIGBmDi9Z6sEyWnvM8YGPJyZwDodcuk2qOk/s1600/IMG_0877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6OeZ9xCA6yP_81m_21eKPgxAizhuiG2HPzXOQ0vZL1X4d8rLiOTmZna138OVHm2Gms9R7YOpp6J1qNt8CBMT-krqVpHWCVtzF_uwWd1YzIGBmDi9Z6sEyWnvM8YGPJyZwDodcuk2qOk/s320/IMG_0877.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>During the summer of 2010, I accidentally killed a chicken in my care at the CIA Student Garden. I carelessly left the roof of the chicken coop propped open with a pole, and when the wind started to blow, the roof came crashing down. I felt terrible, despondent even. Yet, it taught me that accidents happen, that farms are indeed places where animals meet their end. It's how the animals live and die while on that farm that really matters.<br />
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In any supermarket meat department, we find a wide variety of descriptors for the kind of life an animal has enjoyed: grass fed, free range, cage free, hormone free, pasture raised, even <i>happy</i>. While these terms can be confusing and often fodder for jokes about hipsters at Whole Foods in Portland, they represent an important step in the improvement of animal welfare on farms. Sure, these products are more expensive. But it's just like New York City real estate: if you want space, it costs money. It costs money to own the land to pasture, it costs money to tend it. That price pays people to help raise the animals, and to slaughter in a humane way.<br />
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I'm not starting a food revolution here. I'm mostly rehashing Michael Pollan points and figures from the film <i>Food Inc</i>. But thinking about this issue- how animals are raised for food- led me to the Deer Park garden to tend to the chickens in the first place, and eventually led to our construction of a new chicken coop and to a larger flock of heritage breed Buckeye hens. <br />
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Below I've compiled a collection of photos spanning nearly two years in Saint Helena- from the first time I collected eggs, to the slaughter and eventual consumption of our hens. Warning- there are some photos that could be unsettling if you're not used to seeing how animals go from farm to supermarket packaging. It may make you a little squeamish, but ultimately I hope to acknowledge the fact that an animal has died for my nourishment, and thus honor that animal. If I'm going to eat meat, I don't want to sweep that under the rug.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DEq1R5j51n2rytk5Wh0wl8caO84zbG3qBT_9HL29I7uaGbeFN5b0dshLbMpuAjiIuAoI4bHaVo0Cdp1o8vdK5b-Uuy1Up4ml363ZMDGGBrVT96ese5-UP5Boo3Bawr1PXuv8mtZMIlQ/s1600/Canon+32310+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DEq1R5j51n2rytk5Wh0wl8caO84zbG3qBT_9HL29I7uaGbeFN5b0dshLbMpuAjiIuAoI4bHaVo0Cdp1o8vdK5b-Uuy1Up4ml363ZMDGGBrVT96ese5-UP5Boo3Bawr1PXuv8mtZMIlQ/s320/Canon+32310+008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> March 2010: My first time collecting eggs</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlirooXdx4CwKtWULEIM4xbcpmdhwtRPNoaP1tR8KyEWB0v6NpZk8bCODsBeZEFORs9D6qohP-Q8RMnJN8S_yPuKQYdXuzeGrozhd4gy3eCjA6FgVb_fm86TT46j9ng2P6sdqYaCvNMFM/s1600/IMG_1268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlirooXdx4CwKtWULEIM4xbcpmdhwtRPNoaP1tR8KyEWB0v6NpZk8bCODsBeZEFORs9D6qohP-Q8RMnJN8S_yPuKQYdXuzeGrozhd4gy3eCjA6FgVb_fm86TT46j9ng2P6sdqYaCvNMFM/s320/IMG_1268.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Douglas Hayes' hoop coop model we followed </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKql4Cs9wsRmjcPvmjgltGWSRKt8Fj_bGhXPnZZVjTQaepbLHj7ubCn7D2XaD3G9MYvBmfj_fDmgKDDx-B43xTXk9JvKmoskyPLU1TjsVroTLoGzBoW09o-lu8WScq_GByO9GjPXcB-E/s1600/IMG_1266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKql4Cs9wsRmjcPvmjgltGWSRKt8Fj_bGhXPnZZVjTQaepbLHj7ubCn7D2XaD3G9MYvBmfj_fDmgKDDx-B43xTXk9JvKmoskyPLU1TjsVroTLoGzBoW09o-lu8WScq_GByO9GjPXcB-E/s320/IMG_1266.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The roosting racks across the rear of the hoop coop </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4jRUwj77s1JNsw1j8u-BhLsAWCQTMX-GqZkmCFbT48VV3Ewxm_IyukMTCT08LETJAVxbVBL3xZ0FQhyJG3o0yc7rABtcv1Epj1YJBB5t5gzgGNdionltnm3idKXFp8FVB7Y7quxbO3RA/s1600/Deer+Park+Frame+and+Enclosure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4jRUwj77s1JNsw1j8u-BhLsAWCQTMX-GqZkmCFbT48VV3Ewxm_IyukMTCT08LETJAVxbVBL3xZ0FQhyJG3o0yc7rABtcv1Epj1YJBB5t5gzgGNdionltnm3idKXFp8FVB7Y7quxbO3RA/s320/Deer+Park+Frame+and+Enclosure.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The frame built by Chef Patrick Clark and Slow Food Napa Valley Chapter</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc4-WM17a30dpUP0Zi7obFfireA8BOTOXnD-eXxOG8i3Xh1JB5Ps0ki-55Ubg5_ngSCK36gCgQSZzVpGbNyoVhTf7m2zcGU8_UalVxZIeD4iKoJNtjjfz2_LBtHhAatjiuMZDIPrgtxQk/s1600/IMG_1269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc4-WM17a30dpUP0Zi7obFfireA8BOTOXnD-eXxOG8i3Xh1JB5Ps0ki-55Ubg5_ngSCK36gCgQSZzVpGbNyoVhTf7m2zcGU8_UalVxZIeD4iKoJNtjjfz2_LBtHhAatjiuMZDIPrgtxQk/s320/IMG_1269.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our frame in early spring 2011. </div><div style="text-align: center;">(Look how bare the vines are in the background.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguVvycvQbE9MZ2p2NY9Sr1f_d2dOyFIrqzeMOjYD0HCkdVfUhAZOkFyTwEInTjBV_FNJ7BfswQ61j_IUnupahbwjkyZjDXcd8u_Jut_gTGtC26LR4pQAr2Ssdee5ETWvHGFOCgF9r3nuM/s1600/IMG_1571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguVvycvQbE9MZ2p2NY9Sr1f_d2dOyFIrqzeMOjYD0HCkdVfUhAZOkFyTwEInTjBV_FNJ7BfswQ61j_IUnupahbwjkyZjDXcd8u_Jut_gTGtC26LR4pQAr2Ssdee5ETWvHGFOCgF9r3nuM/s320/IMG_1571.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The hoop coop starts to take shape with cattle panel looped over the door frame</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9pcmC5TYWT26MhYIVtPH1fQiP4bb23KE3xNJQxRbW9s59zbu8ThH8ZCgQ33JG7T14i2mU6rD4fNihmvaB1TiJ4ix8wh-b3v2WKL1qX2IzYKWjGOil0prjgJk3MscvFX1EVBbWZRDSWE/s1600/IMG_1577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9pcmC5TYWT26MhYIVtPH1fQiP4bb23KE3xNJQxRbW9s59zbu8ThH8ZCgQ33JG7T14i2mU6rD4fNihmvaB1TiJ4ix8wh-b3v2WKL1qX2IzYKWjGOil0prjgJk3MscvFX1EVBbWZRDSWE/s320/IMG_1577.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jack works on securing the chicken wire</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNg3s3dREkMyeOIVenZpi3u00JObg33gB4KAGAr9i8_eyQfoLQdiIu8qbKNOQo9oGfHBPNWIORvt-QId4ZS4qTQX9ZtQM13Vf93Yn1nZa9M1563vC1Q1FOLdTPDhfgdBKHaRln-3FlMo/s1600/IMG_1579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNg3s3dREkMyeOIVenZpi3u00JObg33gB4KAGAr9i8_eyQfoLQdiIu8qbKNOQo9oGfHBPNWIORvt-QId4ZS4qTQX9ZtQM13Vf93Yn1nZa9M1563vC1Q1FOLdTPDhfgdBKHaRln-3FlMo/s320/IMG_1579.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Looking west through the coop, past our work shed and the pond</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQAKK7CqswC5de3KgJbWl8Qq7oxYlXNWxD2fL-4JCZwLMK0Z_9RAfJ8jdWL0GzS8fIjtLivhYVD455hjlqUJGKtGYa0VlnOVFXdBHk-Jm-_sRgYhNAYmeHYi6jfC4uWnA1Zu04e1HkEg/s1600/IMG_1649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQAKK7CqswC5de3KgJbWl8Qq7oxYlXNWxD2fL-4JCZwLMK0Z_9RAfJ8jdWL0GzS8fIjtLivhYVD455hjlqUJGKtGYa0VlnOVFXdBHk-Jm-_sRgYhNAYmeHYi6jfC4uWnA1Zu04e1HkEg/s320/IMG_1649.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">How to transport chickens in the backseat of your car</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-94jgqdBYqGKp6BmnM7fFzg-u9Kp-DLTzYuLQgHG-ZvodD0XK5Lb5AHp8PUqjKC1hBaRpAVI3vDbkzNhba2WiP2ilscTfQbLIxo8SvDktrhOoA7_Ah35o4ZTiXx4k_YECv4ofwaSxn6U/s1600/IMG_1654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-94jgqdBYqGKp6BmnM7fFzg-u9Kp-DLTzYuLQgHG-ZvodD0XK5Lb5AHp8PUqjKC1hBaRpAVI3vDbkzNhba2WiP2ilscTfQbLIxo8SvDktrhOoA7_Ah35o4ZTiXx4k_YECv4ofwaSxn6U/s320/IMG_1654.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy girls with lots of room</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndAXe6A4H-KwQ2JfhLOKD1fjWPnXPNkfg2-lJXoZu3QW4tGuQOLeFoWqNcJ5u8yuIPlB5oS9SO2xpyvzH84gU87bC4Pppn8AxA3i7kWyXiqB87E0W_O3kD_YiEhShJjhZzhhrXpqh0Lc/s1600/IMG_1661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndAXe6A4H-KwQ2JfhLOKD1fjWPnXPNkfg2-lJXoZu3QW4tGuQOLeFoWqNcJ5u8yuIPlB5oS9SO2xpyvzH84gU87bC4Pppn8AxA3i7kWyXiqB87E0W_O3kD_YiEhShJjhZzhhrXpqh0Lc/s320/IMG_1661.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jack and the ladies </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG9ORkNS8YcCYJ6PMV3wiP0bzWwivL3UMzY4W_A2Iqgj_R75qzG2vdv6qiuUUVF1StnVWOPcNFruqlSkbVFJCqP2g0m39XT5RhYJc56DJE_F3VpMaQR3ORB1CfBOGujMzgCn-BJ3lTLI/s1600/IMG_1667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG9ORkNS8YcCYJ6PMV3wiP0bzWwivL3UMzY4W_A2Iqgj_R75qzG2vdv6qiuUUVF1StnVWOPcNFruqlSkbVFJCqP2g0m39XT5RhYJc56DJE_F3VpMaQR3ORB1CfBOGujMzgCn-BJ3lTLI/s320/IMG_1667.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Much more sensibly dressed than the first time I collected eggs...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Q5wUOeRg9wN_nvKp1mW2mzJB1P1SHkHQTE3I9zizsHu4zcELOZ1PzinTsNaeJAL7c4LmO5wnFpVoCjoVBo1OIuGJwKAIRLAfWVRijzXvv4gyam7L2adP1F0-UG3ENKL815RPbsbKatg/s1600/IMG_1668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Q5wUOeRg9wN_nvKp1mW2mzJB1P1SHkHQTE3I9zizsHu4zcELOZ1PzinTsNaeJAL7c4LmO5wnFpVoCjoVBo1OIuGJwKAIRLAfWVRijzXvv4gyam7L2adP1F0-UG3ENKL815RPbsbKatg/s320/IMG_1668.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">The full enclosure, with padlock to prevent theft<br />
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</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30Di-8eQhUU39a5hDkFcpJD07eQntnCgVrqJGHWKgL-kBZ96pnuYpNQfWp3g4IZ1iMkbLpj6iqXq3ZbRztTEwavIksSTAP8i-LR_NU9GUjw-KE06rBtTcQiyLIr_S59r6N9Rkjsa9CkM/s1600/IMG_3071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30Di-8eQhUU39a5hDkFcpJD07eQntnCgVrqJGHWKgL-kBZ96pnuYpNQfWp3g4IZ1iMkbLpj6iqXq3ZbRztTEwavIksSTAP8i-LR_NU9GUjw-KE06rBtTcQiyLIr_S59r6N9Rkjsa9CkM/s320/IMG_3071.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">A salad for our MyPlate dinner using soft cooked farm eggs</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo23gW9WsY9BNXQ4dmDSTkv0QAmqW5uuvtZjSJmNRE6G7lkESILas_2ADh547YptDQbsRjU_vB5U7dr5BLeAObDl4bWDyyek6nhhmMEKL_Ae160OWmsJBY6fzHM50X90sUxruZCdLL3hU/s1600/IMG_3274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo23gW9WsY9BNXQ4dmDSTkv0QAmqW5uuvtZjSJmNRE6G7lkESILas_2ADh547YptDQbsRjU_vB5U7dr5BLeAObDl4bWDyyek6nhhmMEKL_Ae160OWmsJBY6fzHM50X90sUxruZCdLL3hU/s320/IMG_3274.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Learning how to cut their necks efficiently </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2ETsl9HYpTY585fYicGU-pyqHfrjpX0zfI7Ghe6XvKrJclomj9ZI6GQBQZvFdxDgggCMPSueQ-3Nka1hr-wB4t45Jyx_fv_w1DC3cF2zigKTw8sJ0LSjNqENhWZ82fBhqHax6se36Ts/s1600/IMG_3277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2ETsl9HYpTY585fYicGU-pyqHfrjpX0zfI7Ghe6XvKrJclomj9ZI6GQBQZvFdxDgggCMPSueQ-3Nka1hr-wB4t45Jyx_fv_w1DC3cF2zigKTw8sJ0LSjNqENhWZ82fBhqHax6se36Ts/s320/IMG_3277.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I learned to first bleed the chicken out...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHlrbu21N3Kn67uSAUAm8iiDc9U-3-MM4rDC_RrJTHO7SnjjrQ3v76gqygDQoegvFzT0Lqn_K_y2hCykIxLfT9sqmIAGVwiK46ThLi0BDpJ6jfu1XE1GSmk7nMjeyIQwuDFL6AQKreKw/s1600/IMG_1949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHlrbu21N3Kn67uSAUAm8iiDc9U-3-MM4rDC_RrJTHO7SnjjrQ3v76gqygDQoegvFzT0Lqn_K_y2hCykIxLfT9sqmIAGVwiK46ThLi0BDpJ6jfu1XE1GSmk7nMjeyIQwuDFL6AQKreKw/s320/IMG_1949.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">...once the head is removed, the chicken is dunked in a scalder, </div><div style="text-align: center;">a hot water bath that loosens the feathers</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9GAGoHU_4Ktm-bA8UH4Ana2UHP8pl7DwLB1cmw0IpTzYsYbwLBIDHl5bX7XXcUev_iD6nYUwe7yvQx6YpPCUi-GY7CjpnDO9UXrO11SqYO8v0wUSzpJu-11-Bx59qT17KE26fIpwvGE/s1600/IMG_1959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9GAGoHU_4Ktm-bA8UH4Ana2UHP8pl7DwLB1cmw0IpTzYsYbwLBIDHl5bX7XXcUev_iD6nYUwe7yvQx6YpPCUi-GY7CjpnDO9UXrO11SqYO8v0wUSzpJu-11-Bx59qT17KE26fIpwvGE/s320/IMG_1959.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">After about a minute in the scalder, the chicken is placed in a plucker, </div><div style="text-align: center;">a spinning bin with soft, rubber fingers that remove the feathers. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TqQWZhsj0e-bq91OmOw6arr2_Og2MLkYTXokeC011t4XMqf114zX7UbyihE_Uow-YxQQ8PaIwx1CKphkNUWXDkMld3byJo02sZX9SGpvjkDcZdLqdAcSv2TvQH8PUuyht6B2vtLcg1E/s1600/IMG_3273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TqQWZhsj0e-bq91OmOw6arr2_Og2MLkYTXokeC011t4XMqf114zX7UbyihE_Uow-YxQQ8PaIwx1CKphkNUWXDkMld3byJo02sZX9SGpvjkDcZdLqdAcSv2TvQH8PUuyht6B2vtLcg1E/s320/IMG_3273.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Learning how to finish the process</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmCXaC7dXqjYxXOFcDPQBynBIczjUtsFM865IzLEk92kjQaWJ4jayyjDP9EReleMWYftHnge5wmFdTXnNRqMlZvegt3stX8Yqvx9RkjIvKqbblHN6_b8kp20m5OkNJmkGdCUN50yiMmQ/s1600/IMG_3272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmCXaC7dXqjYxXOFcDPQBynBIczjUtsFM865IzLEk92kjQaWJ4jayyjDP9EReleMWYftHnge5wmFdTXnNRqMlZvegt3stX8Yqvx9RkjIvKqbblHN6_b8kp20m5OkNJmkGdCUN50yiMmQ/s320/IMG_3272.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">After ice chilling and air drying in the refrigerator. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Check out how narrow their breasts are- not your average supermarket bird. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPbzRcbghXjuZn4ocj_Vf6OHaWJzoLljYjgZCBFyqphimBia1tAdCwcbViw0qt6sarkhVQuMM6Qw8SWkSJdwHsXw0tDcLgzRBytJdQUUyQfW1_xOKDs3FGh5G0ENXzoiOUXPLXt3B5z8/s1600/IMG_3271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPbzRcbghXjuZn4ocj_Vf6OHaWJzoLljYjgZCBFyqphimBia1tAdCwcbViw0qt6sarkhVQuMM6Qw8SWkSJdwHsXw0tDcLgzRBytJdQUUyQfW1_xOKDs3FGh5G0ENXzoiOUXPLXt3B5z8/s320/IMG_3271.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">A chicken broken down into eight pieces, with the remaining frame</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTgNhlqX0GdjzyH5ktxvvOCUsPHNgiWUxymieOI7WNFWa397Mdoi9-r8VOUZjAKu64eY-jfoPOcVewvb7i_XLVHUqfKuDZKRbAeYu81uL-bXoUDWVskoX0traVWLbntK7Okuz7_ZNWXU/s1600/IMG_3282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTgNhlqX0GdjzyH5ktxvvOCUsPHNgiWUxymieOI7WNFWa397Mdoi9-r8VOUZjAKu64eY-jfoPOcVewvb7i_XLVHUqfKuDZKRbAeYu81uL-bXoUDWVskoX0traVWLbntK7Okuz7_ZNWXU/s320/IMG_3282.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">A whole hen Chef Bill Briwa roasted in his ACAP class at Greystone</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5YQHSD9xShSpa88EWyegTZCQtUFdOb7JcSWO8R9UM_QFd-efFlLKDYLf8sFttla9S5LA_veMc80UXDwZUz749AAX4t0u2hdO9SnbRMBDD6Tx1neEO7e49PWZqSTwKPmB4XCqq82vKXg/s1600/IMG_3288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5YQHSD9xShSpa88EWyegTZCQtUFdOb7JcSWO8R9UM_QFd-efFlLKDYLf8sFttla9S5LA_veMc80UXDwZUz749AAX4t0u2hdO9SnbRMBDD6Tx1neEO7e49PWZqSTwKPmB4XCqq82vKXg/s320/IMG_3288.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bringing it all full circle, thankful for the experience. </div><br />
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Thanks to all the friends who guided and supported us along the way- Douglas, Jorge, Brett and Alejandro; Dianne Martinez and Dr. Chris Loss of the CIA; and Adam Burke and Jack Gingrich, who took care of the girls at their home in Deer Park. And to the next class of students at Greystone: I hope a flock of hens returns to Deer Park next spring!Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-62437629253468930302011-09-21T19:47:00.000-07:002011-09-21T19:48:50.689-07:00What Makes a Great Restaurant Dessert?In Baking and Pastry class, our chef instructor <a href="http://www.pastryprofiles.com/Stephen_durfee_pastry_forum.html">Stephen Durfee</a> asked us to consider what makes a great restaurant dessert. He should know a thing or two about it- he was the Pastry Chef at <a href="http://www.frenchlaundry.com/">The French Laundry</a> for years before coming to CIA-Greystone.<br />
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Thrilled at the chance to get esoteric and wax philosophical (can you tell I'm my father's daughter), I wrote the following essay.<br />
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<b>What Makes A Great Restaurant Dessert?</b><br />
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Why do we order dessert even when we’re already full? What is it that makes a dessert desirable? For starters, dessert tastes good, or at least it should. Durian ice cream, peanut crumble and fish sauce caramel could be a dessert, but it’s unlikely, because it won’t taste good to most diners. Chocolate, strawberry ice cream, chantilly: these ingredients appear and reappear in our dessert language because they taste so darn good. Yet, when we start to ponder what really makes a dessert memorable, we yearn for more than just sweetness.<br />
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Let us consider the physical particulars of a dessert. It should be interesting to the mouth. A great dessert has smooth elements, crunchy, crispy, crackly elements. Some ingredients are hot and vivid, while others are chilled and stoic. I remember with pleasure a simple dessert at Kokkari in San Francisco: Baklava ice cream. Well-made vanilla ice cream, not too much fat masking the taste on my tongue; with crispy, caramelized edges of baklava folded in. Neither the baklava nor the vanilla was a taste revelation, but the two textures together were a home run. That dish represents one definition of a great restaurant dessert: simple, well-executed, delicious, and texturally interesting. <br />
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A great restaurant dessert should also be visually pleasing. Depending on the type of restaurant, a dessert’s appearance can vary widely; however, it should be sexy. It does something for you. It sizzles, it smokes, it makes your mouth feel things it’s never felt. A slice of mile high apple pie, though lovely at Aunt Bess’ house, does not qualify as a great restaurant dessert because it’s not sexy. It’s squat, it’s cloying, it’s not elegant. <br />
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In contrast, a great restaurant dessert is seductive. A great restaurant dessert is a striking lady across the bar who makes you want to order one more drink to go talk to her. It doesn’t lay it all out there on the table, much like an intriguing person isn’t the man who speaks the loudest or the gal in the shortest dress. Rather, a great restaurant dessert tempts with a few words on the menu, free of technical jargon and superfluous prepositions. Then, it surprises with compositions not previously imagined, just in the way a provocative conversation flows in unforeseen directions. Consider a dessert from <a href="http://www.alinea-restaurant.com/">Alinea</a> that promises “chocolate ganache,” but fascinates with the addition of gelatin that makes it moldable. Have you had chocolate ganache before? Sure! But not chocolate ganache like this.<br />
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I never ate at <a href="http://www.elbulli.com/home.php?lang=en">El Bulli</a>, but I’m enthralled by their avant-dessert Natura, which featured fruit treated in multiple ways: pickled, candied, freeze-dried, fresh. It’s as if the El Bulli kitchen was in love with the multiple personalities of fruit, unable to pick just one to highlight. The dish is a culinary version of Picasso’s Cubist portraits: a simultaneous depiction of one object from multiple vantage points. Sexy, intriguing, even confusing, a great restaurant dessert is a challenge. <br />
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In conclusion, a great restaurant dessert captivates with taste, visual appeal, textural interest and often cultural reference. Call it a beautiful lady, a technical wonder, a Cubist painting, or just call it delicious. We may be full, but we’ll order it anyway.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-90791556119791099472011-09-08T20:51:00.000-07:002011-09-08T20:52:06.726-07:00More from the Greystone GardenA little over a year ago, I wrote about our student garden. At the time, I was just falling in love with gardening and growing our own food. Fast forward one year: our two acre plot on the Napa River is bursting with produce, thanks to the hard work of a core group of students who love cooking <i>and</i> working under the California sun. <br />
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Easter Egg Radishes <br />
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Summer Squash Zucchini with blossoms <br />
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Jack weighs a boatload of Padron peppers in our school purchasing department<br />
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Yours truly, with a snakeskin shedding from our garden snakes, Frank and Gina. <br />
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Today's ridiculous late-summer haul, with over 150 pounds of tomatoes, 30 pounds of pears, 20 pounds of figs and zucchini, apples and basil to boot. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT9lPcq7mfQQEZxPtj_igxK4NdUrEa3Yg8y2VuF_7be9hdWcYOM1Lh1JIotzgIti5zIyVGuhmgC6sNsgBiSJ1h8NsWR17ZhLszzALAnDEtbGMvpvkx-FYfwTf4wutjoAkzAm3OUVDwck/s1600/IMG_2713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT9lPcq7mfQQEZxPtj_igxK4NdUrEa3Yg8y2VuF_7be9hdWcYOM1Lh1JIotzgIti5zIyVGuhmgC6sNsgBiSJ1h8NsWR17ZhLszzALAnDEtbGMvpvkx-FYfwTf4wutjoAkzAm3OUVDwck/s400/IMG_2713.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Our garden manager Dianne, with Lucas and pup Bruce. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwQZKXRjtC0Ss2m9O4PwaWDEQbOFH5vBDVoYZP2lp_jl9SEQyBiD-IlliPh5FhUbjdVB_X8gNxsTH25hY3TacCKDZVsGRMeu-Hvjqzx-jeD8Ljsj8xZNcwiJYahiR4e8w7wDhsoewUtA/s1600/IMG_2895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwQZKXRjtC0Ss2m9O4PwaWDEQbOFH5vBDVoYZP2lp_jl9SEQyBiD-IlliPh5FhUbjdVB_X8gNxsTH25hY3TacCKDZVsGRMeu-Hvjqzx-jeD8Ljsj8xZNcwiJYahiR4e8w7wDhsoewUtA/s400/IMG_2895.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Left: Harvesting San Marzano tomatoes as the sun comes up over Saint Helena. <br />
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Last year's blog post about my love for the garden included more words, more reflection, more poetic waxing. Those emotions run deep for me, and I still love the garden even as it takes up more and more of my time. <br />
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This year, rather than writing so much, I'm actually spending every afternoon there. The best thing is- our kitchens at school are using all the produce. And we're shortening the food supply chain, one tub of heirloom tomatoes at a time. <br />
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Special thanks to Dianne Martinez, Jack Gingrich, Adam Burke, Caitlin Henriksen, and all the Greystone students who work to keep the student garden growing.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-65395767839403537152011-09-07T22:41:00.000-07:002011-09-07T22:41:05.746-07:00Eat Here Now- The Alembic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV705vL9ZkMbvWKTbvrxEeXwAuzet1VfU5huV2foVyHe0fIrtMcggcviv7LoVYgEL9Ihg_UEr-GsYcCl9vlDsQ_fplD9I4hKKs-RgkGlSEe_HjRc8X9I5F8DHL-nqICtrQ92ahR3HzZrc/s1600/IMG_1724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV705vL9ZkMbvWKTbvrxEeXwAuzet1VfU5huV2foVyHe0fIrtMcggcviv7LoVYgEL9Ihg_UEr-GsYcCl9vlDsQ_fplD9I4hKKs-RgkGlSEe_HjRc8X9I5F8DHL-nqICtrQ92ahR3HzZrc/s400/IMG_1724.JPG" /></a></div><br />
One place I'm stoked on these days: <a href="http://www.alembicbar.com/">the Alembic</a> in the Haight in San Francisco. I've been several times since the beginning of the summer, and I'm convinced it's one of the best places in the city. It's tiny, so it may take a while to get a table. That's fine by me because their cocktail list is extensive and intriguing: Gold leaf? Check. Peanut-infused whiskey? Check check. That's probably why GQ magazine named them to their <a href="http://www.gq.com/food-travel/restaurants-and-bars/201010/25-best-cocktail-bars-in-america#slide=5">Best Cocktail Bar list</a> last year. But the food really steals the show. The bar snacks go way beyond wings; think duck hearts and togarashi popcorn. Nasturtiums from the backyard garden pepper up the Nectarine and Burrata salad. Or try the beef tongue sliders to break the boring bite-size burger mold. <br />
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Right: Bone Marrow with Caper Gremolata and Garlic Confit. Brash. Decadent. Delicious. <br />
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Below: My friend <a href="http://www.boncekimages.com/index.php#a=0&at=0&mi=2&pt=1&pi=10000&s=0&p=0">Jon Boncek </a>shooting <a href="http://www.facebook.com/stagdining">Chef Ted Fleury's</a> beautiful Hiramasa Crudo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqTLYH0Rtq4IRAdv9pr-6d5exOmHbbUNJ6v-Daf_lSBEsaZb1yWXSJT8jSr4GUfCQsl2aBNOP0eofyoHkb9NsABgpEwp2i_-DP4AKEuCW4b3_f1ueLkw8SclVWWyWyialOu4rMfmMFO0/s1600/IMG_1365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqTLYH0Rtq4IRAdv9pr-6d5exOmHbbUNJ6v-Daf_lSBEsaZb1yWXSJT8jSr4GUfCQsl2aBNOP0eofyoHkb9NsABgpEwp2i_-DP4AKEuCW4b3_f1ueLkw8SclVWWyWyialOu4rMfmMFO0/s400/IMG_1365.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Essentials: <br />
The Alembic <br />
1725 Haight Street<br />
San Francisco <br />
(415)-666-0822<br />
M-Thur 5pm-1am <br />
F-S 12noon- 1 amRuthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-56289722881417731872010-07-21T21:42:00.000-07:002010-07-22T15:26:44.935-07:00Gardening at Greystone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf0b-to-KR7Lp2k-2jUupd7Mi7ui0qHZ-ixPZaajxbfRzUYHE31CHprtJc_AQMk9w8w7IGwn-16MqQBT5oxaCBSNcxntr8KYdTyE2lMl2H8v_RE1-Obv-0PKRkEs38dYCKVSDejCQTuU/s1600/IMG_0870.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcf0b-to-KR7Lp2k-2jUupd7Mi7ui0qHZ-ixPZaajxbfRzUYHE31CHprtJc_AQMk9w8w7IGwn-16MqQBT5oxaCBSNcxntr8KYdTyE2lMl2H8v_RE1-Obv-0PKRkEs38dYCKVSDejCQTuU/s400/IMG_0870.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496597311183166946"></a>"What happened to your face?" Rosario suddenly asked me the other day. My friend in the dish room at school was deeply concerned about the sunspots on my cheeks. I explained to her that I often get funny pigmentation on my skin in the summertime, underscoring that it was totally fine because I'm actually trying to look like a catcher's mitt by the time I'm 40.
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<br />But seriously, the real reason for my super dark complexion these days is the amount of time I've been spending in the student garden here at Greystone. The work can be exhausting, but I consider it an opportunity to get three birds with one stone: gardening, exercise AND some stress-busting vitamin D production all at once.
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<br />Located between Highway 29 and the Silverado Trail on Deer Park cross road, our two acre garden plot is not impressive at first glance. Started four years ago by a small, dedicated group of students, the student garden is neither well-funded nor perfectly organized. We don't weed every day. The chain link fences that divide our plot from neighboring vineyards wouldn't mesh with a landscape architect's vision for a Napa Valley garden.
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<br />Somehow, none of that matters. I've wandered the neatly manicured rows of the French Laundry garden, across the street from that temple of haute cuisine in Yountville. I've poked around Brix' beautiful beanstalks and I've picked perfect parsley from Plump Jack's herb garden in Squaw Valley. I love our garden the best, if only because it's ours.
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<br />Our student garden has hay bales all over the place, but we know that hay, when strewn over the rows of plants, will help retain moisture. The fava bean remnants have been laying around for weeks, but that's only because we were waiting for them to dry out so we could clear the rows easily with a rake. The rose bushes need to be trimmed. Sometimes, the irrigation tape running the length of the rows will spring a leak, and pools of excess water- and weeds- will erupt uninvited.
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<br />But when smitten, we see what we want to see, and all I see is beauty.
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<br />Left: Serrano chiles waiting to spice up my avocado salsa verde
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<br />On days when I feel overwhelmed in the kitchen, I long for the garden. Cooking challenges me, but gardening soothes me. An afternoon in the garden erases bad knife skills, missed plating window times and disappointing dishes. An afternoon in the garden reminds me that cooking is only the final expression of a long, delicate process of coaxing dirt and seed to bear fruit. An afternoon in the garden gives me cotton-candy sweet sungold tomatoes and eggs with golf-ball sized golden yolks. Edible flowers pop with color that begs to brighten my dinner salad. Blackberries tease me with a few winners but mostly still-bitter fruit. I see geese swoop down to the irrigation pond in perfect formation, while our garden manager, Luis, tells me jokes that shake my ribs with laughter.<div>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EOEU8Kr7oQX-m7gW3MS8800LxeNgWu6S8Hf4C6mm4i9VUn_lP4a-wQvCKbiilaidAs2ELoRaZ1C50iXOYM7pEzpcjC4STVtY3fv2pHn4pxD6GOhTLrqaEqGgAnzrb4X_WhNW0Rg6xX4/s1600/IMG_0874.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EOEU8Kr7oQX-m7gW3MS8800LxeNgWu6S8Hf4C6mm4i9VUn_lP4a-wQvCKbiilaidAs2ELoRaZ1C50iXOYM7pEzpcjC4STVtY3fv2pHn4pxD6GOhTLrqaEqGgAnzrb4X_WhNW0Rg6xX4/s400/IMG_0874.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496848086904012754" /></a>Soon-to-be-blackberries
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<br />Do I sound like my father the poet, waxing philosophical about dirt, flowers and weeds? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I suppose. But things are happening in the garden this summer, both with vegetables and flowers, and within me. I feel closer to the person I want to be.
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<br />Now if only I could remember to wear sunscreen.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpP6PdRPY8IV9zFvWmOLsz2XJ_tw543JiZC_ukuh_AkAFLB4y0B_m5TMDva8og0bRmP9eHuNaEurf2wR5kysIfbs1iJxg-y5VPXrd_KAxA5U0LdM3WKtKQk2ZuS9yzIJy0mvkTF5k9L2s/s1600/iPhone+May+15,+2010+023.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpP6PdRPY8IV9zFvWmOLsz2XJ_tw543JiZC_ukuh_AkAFLB4y0B_m5TMDva8og0bRmP9eHuNaEurf2wR5kysIfbs1iJxg-y5VPXrd_KAxA5U0LdM3WKtKQk2ZuS9yzIJy0mvkTF5k9L2s/s400/iPhone+May+15,+2010+023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496595979416879170"></a>
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<br />When we have enough of it, we sell our produce at the St. Helena Farmer's Market. Left: Our price board from the season's first market in May.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjY04qy_8KuEVrrxwp6NpHbmb2eHaxJgcf0nErFxU-DMObG3fUn-7OrcYQKZ-YgozfVZ8XHoyjd6L1veelSTFIl424G3MEh_uj_eL1JcUQo7RMo0vlVAooVVZTUJxLchprdGqOxHlhPM/s1600/iPhone+May+15,+2010+024.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjY04qy_8KuEVrrxwp6NpHbmb2eHaxJgcf0nErFxU-DMObG3fUn-7OrcYQKZ-YgozfVZ8XHoyjd6L1veelSTFIl424G3MEh_uj_eL1JcUQo7RMo0vlVAooVVZTUJxLchprdGqOxHlhPM/s400/iPhone+May+15,+2010+024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496725217774832002"></a>Edible flowers and herbs for sale
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<br /></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3eeMok3g_6Dbi1_WFH5Vv-lJhlZaszCSctrJ9fJREA6PTvBJWSwT6A9eugje0WzTfwka62Kzt1Fit6ND8LRrD-0Lyuhs9_4HAq-bS412gbj8tgeBLvaqlMKDeG2VAvxsVxQCYmagIMw/s320/IMG_0877.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496727069655571074" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px; "></font></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">The <i>gallina</i> girls<font class="Apple-style-span" color="#0000EE"> </font></div><font class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></font>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYfn6Vz4zXoq3VF7-a0AvFIpQXQ0LpS6DhiLGARWR8r6QgGs7SeTwIxjnzsHrwkw5z5s8r9EVv2Zex08M3A9RBE4b5drgqt1VPrYX4YbBSg32TMJaWiZLfkHFKrQi4U0FN52euIiQNiU/s1600/IMG_0868.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYfn6Vz4zXoq3VF7-a0AvFIpQXQ0LpS6DhiLGARWR8r6QgGs7SeTwIxjnzsHrwkw5z5s8r9EVv2Zex08M3A9RBE4b5drgqt1VPrYX4YbBSg32TMJaWiZLfkHFKrQi4U0FN52euIiQNiU/s400/IMG_0868.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496598458391501618"></a>Sungold tomatoes at various stages of ripeness
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3oXMtPvoQ8WkZOOqO294iu9xpPxbq_C2soWYJQbjLlWQtEJXd0Pl32EhcFItbC8Zee-DO-0VLEko0Amfb0pXfqgC_LsXgwxv1wyLVd7dsjBPe2AVuGKWGWjNqY9yAf86dxu3AV73eyaQ/s1600/IMG_0871.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3oXMtPvoQ8WkZOOqO294iu9xpPxbq_C2soWYJQbjLlWQtEJXd0Pl32EhcFItbC8Zee-DO-0VLEko0Amfb0pXfqgC_LsXgwxv1wyLVd7dsjBPe2AVuGKWGWjNqY9yAf86dxu3AV73eyaQ/s400/IMG_0871.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496847697140954850" /></a>Sunflowers in bloom
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<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoVdAr5pQV7ogvsShNwaCqM4er_8-us5KxfVtxnKFBCf_cqYuO08sZtBpsiFgomZ2vqT8fTWR7R-v3H018mDTI-Sv4ewtPZBU5st3wc9dIWlnmo0cTkqAYxixKXdWs-EIK2qyie-gMx98/s400/IMG_0884.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496727953714291970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px; "></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Dusk at the garden</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><div>
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<br />Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-54692498980919716352010-07-20T14:56:00.001-07:002010-07-20T15:38:01.691-07:00Did you know...? Nigiri and Sushi...what <span style="font-style:italic;">nigiri </span>means? or <span style="font-style:italic;">sushi </span>for that matter? <br /><br />Whether I go to <a href="http://www.blueribbonrestaurants.com/rests_sushi_man_main.htm">Blue Ribbon</a> in New York, <a href="http://www.mamasake.com/">Mamasake</a> in Squaw or <a href="http://www.fukisushi.com/">Fuki Sushi</a> in Palo Alto, I love getting nigiri sushi. But before our Cuisines of Asia class today, I never really knew what I was ordering.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Nigiri </span>is a thin slice of fish laid over an elongated ball of rice, with fresh wasabi underneath for some punch. <br /><div style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://view.picapp.com/pictures.photo/creative/close-nigiri-sushi-with/image/5067673?term=sushi+nigiri" target="_blank"><img src="http://view3.picapp.com/pictures.photo/image/5067673/close-nigiri-sushi-with/close-nigiri-sushi-with.jpg?size=234&imageId=5067673" border="0" width="234" title="Close-up of Nigiri sushi with salmon held between chopsticks" height="234" oncontextmenu="return false;" ondrag="return false;" onmousedown="return false;" alt="Close-up of Nigiri sushi with salmon held between chopsticks" /></a></div><script type="text/javascript" src="http://view.picapp.com//JavaScripts/OTIjs.js"></script><br />However, the word <span style="font-style:italic;">nigiri </span>means finger, and the name comes from both the thin, curved shape of the fish and the hands that create it. The elegant curve is meant to evoke a fish jumping clear out of water. Gorgeous, right? <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Sushi </span>itself refers to the rice, not the elaborate rolls we have come to equate with the name. Su- means vinegar and shi- refers to the cooked rice. Thus, the most important element in sushi is the quality of the rice. Supermarket sushi rice is invariably a cold, sticky mess, more closely related to wallpaper paste than the melt-in-your-mouth quality of good sushi rice. <br /><br />Once we get the rice down, the fish element poses a larger question: what about the health of our oceans? A recent <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/27/magazine/27Tuna-t.html">New York Times Magazine cover story</a> warned of the end of blue fin tuna and the decline of our fisheries. How do I reconcile my love of sushi with a desire to be sustainable as well? <br /><br />Here at school, our instructors frequently point us to the <a href="http://www.montereybayaquarium.org/cr/seafoodwatch.aspx">Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch</a> for the latest information on sustainable fisheries. There's even an <a href="http://www.montereybayaquarium.org/cr/SeafoodWatch/web/sfw_iPhone.aspx">iPhone app</a> for that! You can search by fish or by region, and Seafood Watch will rate how sustainable your choice is. Now it's easy to have your cake...er, fish and eat it too.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-87950278030725130732010-07-13T14:46:00.000-07:002010-07-13T14:56:11.621-07:00Tip of the Day: Cleaning A Pan with a Burned BottomI learned today's tip from the ladies in the dish room at Greystone. Day after day, they take our scorched, greasy pans and clean up our mistakes without grumbling. I've burned a couple pans pretty bad, but they taught me how to release the nasty, tough bottom layer without hours of soaking or scrubbing. <br /><br />Fill the pot with enough water to cover the burned area and place it back on the stove. Turn the burner on to medium-low and just let it simmer. In the meantime, do other dishes. Try to make the dish over again, this time without the bitter, burnt taste. Or, if the creation can be salvaged, go ahead and eat. Twenty minutes at a low simmer will release the burned crust easily. Simple as that!Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-16636897879846784202010-07-08T09:47:00.001-07:002010-07-08T12:06:10.212-07:00The Key to Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_lprbiA6S2fGk8H8MKwab2yGVBKE-1HQw2vBFa3sDkc55xeZkG6ypbYM6AfGBPKyI3fz8zDzEBzX8mYpDJTPbM339CP7yY_eoMZWGx-PPSnDMar0CxmzV8PROdCCVtrKDpcw3fnaOug/s1600/cookies+with++milk+5.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_lprbiA6S2fGk8H8MKwab2yGVBKE-1HQw2vBFa3sDkc55xeZkG6ypbYM6AfGBPKyI3fz8zDzEBzX8mYpDJTPbM339CP7yY_eoMZWGx-PPSnDMar0CxmzV8PROdCCVtrKDpcw3fnaOug/s400/cookies+with++milk+5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491578205999858578" /></a> Everybody loves a good chocolate chip cookie; they're simple to make AND they're wonderfully delicious. The recipe I've been using for years came off the Toll House chocolate chips bag. I love how easy the measurements are with just one stick of butter and one egg. <br /><br />However, recent conversations with Corrie Beezley, a Greystone graduate who now runs her own cookie bakery <a href="http://www.sthelenafarmersmkt.org/VendorList/vendorfood.html">The Farmer's Market Pantry</a>, revealed that I've been missing two important components in cookie baking: <span style="font-weight:bold;">1) I haven't been using enough brown sugar, and 2) the cookie dough should be baked from frozen, not room temperature. </span><br /><br />Following Corrie's advice, I tweaked my recipe a little. Instead of equal parts brown and white sugars, I upped the brown sugar ratio. I also used room temperature butter and egg, and then froze the scoops of dough before baking. This technique prevents the dough from melting across the pan. Cold butter holds it shape better and produces a taller cookie, rather than the flattened pancake type I've struggled with for years. Be patient with first, the butter coming to room temperature and second, the freezing process before baking. By freezing the dough, I finally achieved the moist, chewy cookie I've been trying to bake for years. <br /><br />Notice I'm not saying they're the best EVER- those of us who have been to Wildflour Bakery in Squaw Valley know that would be a tough claim. But this recipe comes from years of tinkering and a few small changes in the method that really make a perfect homemade cookie. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Chocolate Chip Cookies</span><br />yield: 16- 2" cookies <br /><br />1 stick butter, softened to room temperature (do not microwave to soften, this just produces runny cookie dough) <br />1 egg<br />1/4 cup sugar<br />3/4 cup brown sugar <br />1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract <br /><br />1 cup + 3 TBSP flour <br />1/2 tsp salt <br />1/2 tsp baking soda <br />1/2 cup chocolate chips <br /><br />1. Combine the butter, egg, sugars and vanilla until creamy. <br />2. Mix the remaining ingredients before adding to the butter mixture to insure ingredients are evenly spread. <br />3. Combine dry ingredients with butter mixture.<br />4. Using an ice cream scoop, make balls of dough on a plate and place in the freezer for at least an hour. Be patient. This step is the crucial part of the recipe. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjlx6GtvLPIOe76-o74Dg7nrNVOfI4RPAccroFPwaXqvThYaEC7rbCshbp5k3mXOSZJMHdFg-ZnF_s0fW5IMCMugwvfWMg53rHqFGR5ITfGeZONvwCaHrKV4ycOhvoAUovB4jeysf_cA/s1600/cookies+scoop+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjlx6GtvLPIOe76-o74Dg7nrNVOfI4RPAccroFPwaXqvThYaEC7rbCshbp5k3mXOSZJMHdFg-ZnF_s0fW5IMCMugwvfWMg53rHqFGR5ITfGeZONvwCaHrKV4ycOhvoAUovB4jeysf_cA/s400/cookies+scoop+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491583524869322562" /></a><br />5. Preheat oven to 375F. <br />6. Grease a baking sheet with a little butter, or use a SilPat silicone sheet if you've got one. <br />7. Place the cookies an inch apart on the sheet, and bake for 12 minutes, or until very light golden in color. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74YJiCeRDV_mWPM0Bn-OI6H9JZO3W44IFkjqsP7DnnuAJMC6yY7_W4UXK1AiH0uaA5UVuHp6zWQbEWgB9SiJ552RCREu_PxsCGouku2fSOcngNEZ6NzjQIMT3VEFpbAtCbejLR9J2hEI/s1600/cookies+on+sheet+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74YJiCeRDV_mWPM0Bn-OI6H9JZO3W44IFkjqsP7DnnuAJMC6yY7_W4UXK1AiH0uaA5UVuHp6zWQbEWgB9SiJ552RCREu_PxsCGouku2fSOcngNEZ6NzjQIMT3VEFpbAtCbejLR9J2hEI/s400/cookies+on+sheet+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491583703338263218" /></a><br />8. When the cookies look like they're a minute or two away from finished, pull them out and allow them to finish cooking on the pan. This technique creates a soft center without over-browning the outside of the cookie. Even if the cookies look underdone when you pull them, another two minutes on a hot pan will finish them off nicely. As soon as the cookies are firm enough, transfer to a wire rack or paper towel to cool. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0u4F2VW8O1OQxTsGP9L1o9cAbk62ZAjhLy5_JeyV5JmpwOkEuAKTRQC_Bc3Uo2mlekCgo_X6by0lRsDhp0z-LAaCWf84XmNEAcddxDv8K6WU5BfCk6IK5ud4FwfblwpTd1J-guyfIelc/s1600/cookies+on+rack+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0u4F2VW8O1OQxTsGP9L1o9cAbk62ZAjhLy5_JeyV5JmpwOkEuAKTRQC_Bc3Uo2mlekCgo_X6by0lRsDhp0z-LAaCWf84XmNEAcddxDv8K6WU5BfCk6IK5ud4FwfblwpTd1J-guyfIelc/s400/cookies+on+rack+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491583898923410322" /></a><br /><br />9. Pour yourself a glass of milk and enjoy! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiou0Ke4r8gQYq1MuQSOzFiW0EqPZppLkLYHJwA_5xvfr9Pr061aNPuendSIM7EbmOuPu4qhs7SsX5fPgNeKkxLrt93128krHw67Tt22xa7UiY8PYZPUMCNGcwmvarxuW0scNF_1VfSxBM/s1600/cookies+with+milk+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiou0Ke4r8gQYq1MuQSOzFiW0EqPZppLkLYHJwA_5xvfr9Pr061aNPuendSIM7EbmOuPu4qhs7SsX5fPgNeKkxLrt93128krHw67Tt22xa7UiY8PYZPUMCNGcwmvarxuW0scNF_1VfSxBM/s400/cookies+with+milk+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491584086557261970" /></a>Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-43418164725115221592010-07-07T06:39:00.000-07:002010-07-07T06:59:21.400-07:00Tip of the Day: Kitchen ToolsPeople often ask me "What is one kitchen tool you can't live without?" While there are a few specialty tools that really make the difference between the professional and the home kitchens, most tools aren't anything nifty or high tech. Specialty stores like Sur La Table and Williams-Sonoma would have you think otherwise; how else are they going to sell that Christmas Tree shaped spatula or motorized bread knife? <br /><br />The truth is: <span style="font-weight:bold;">most of the tools you need are already in your kitchen, you just need to re-purpose them. </span><br /><br />Don't have a super sharp chef's knife for slicing tomatoes? Don't have a mandolin either? Use a serrated knife. The teeth will grab the tomato skin while you slice, keeping the tomato from squirting away from you under a dull knife. <br /><br />Tired of cupcakes, muffins or cookies that turn out all different shapes and sizes? (I've run into this problem when children feel slighted because of a much smaller cookie or cupcake.) Use an ice cream scoop for even amounts of dough. With cupcakes, the ice cream scoop transfers the batter to the liners with much less spillage than a spoon. <br /><br />For large parties, use an ice cream scoop to portion guacamole, mashed potatoes, and potato or pasta salad. (Just be sure you wash it after those chocolate chip cookies!)<br /><br />Don't have a melon baller to scoop perfect spheres of fruit or to clean out cucumber seeds? Use a tablespoon measure. <br /><br />No rolling pin in your kitchen for pizza dough or pie crust? Wash off the side of a wine bottle. <br /><br />Is the salesman at Williams-Sonoma urging you to buy elbow-high oven mitts made of space age silicone for a cheeky $150? Tell him to buzz off; those gloves only make your hands sweat. Instead, keep a folded kitchen towel hanging on your apron string or just sitting on the counter by your workspace. You're not Homer Simpson in a nuclear reactor; you're a cook! <br /><br />So don't sweat the equipment, really. Make like MacGyver and get creative with whatever you've got. Nine times out of ten, professional chefs are doing the same thing.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-15689886282472925602010-07-06T10:39:00.000-07:002010-07-06T10:55:17.165-07:00Mango Avocado SalsaSummer is the perfect time to take advantage of big, fresh tastes like mango, avocado, cilantro and lime. Make this salsa with grilled fish for a light and flavorful dinner, or serve with a vegetable quesadilla to revitalize your lunch routine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72bu5zLm8FtA5ovfoAYyLnwdgAJ1JbdWl6OkedhtJ6ZPegb917IqkBsTJidxhyphenhyphenLDxb0N0Bzs8n-OrjKjG-PF8Hztum9PvnyYYHMceOJS3RJiB7EI_uiPCnMYlIDPBPlc7r5EKEgHNAow/s1600/july+6+2010+food+SF+sunrise+007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72bu5zLm8FtA5ovfoAYyLnwdgAJ1JbdWl6OkedhtJ6ZPegb917IqkBsTJidxhyphenhyphenLDxb0N0Bzs8n-OrjKjG-PF8Hztum9PvnyYYHMceOJS3RJiB7EI_uiPCnMYlIDPBPlc7r5EKEgHNAow/s400/july+6+2010+food+SF+sunrise+007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490849313872137090" /></a><br /><br />Above: Pan-seared sea bass on a bed of arugula greens and mango avocado salsa, topped with crispy leeks. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Mango Avocado Salsa </span><br />yield: 2 cups (enough for 2 dinner portions, or 1 portion of salsa dip) <br /><br />1 ripe mango <br />1 avocado <br />1 red bell pepper<br />1 shallot (small, purple onion look-alike) <br />1 leek (cut off the woody green top and just use the white bottom bit, but trim the roots) <br />1 ear of corn, grilled and cleaned off cob (see yesterday's post)<br />1 jalapeno pepper<br />1/4 bunch of cilantro, rough chopped <br />1 lime, juiced and zested <br />salt and pepper <br /><br />1. If you're using the salsa as a bed for grilled fish, thinly slice all the vegetables and combine. It will resemble a shoe-string salad. If you're making a salsa for chips or dips, chop everything into rough squares. <br />2. Toss with the cilantro and lime juice and zest. Season with salt and pepper to taste.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-2731335664217640552010-07-05T15:48:00.000-07:002010-07-05T16:36:46.961-07:00Tip of the Day: Clean Corn QuicklyThe perfect summer vegetable? Corn on the cob. We're in prime corn season at the moment, and sweet corn on the cob ranks high on my list of things to throw on the grill. Yet, pulling the husk and the silk threads can be a little annoying. The thin silk strands can stick to the kernels, making more prepreparation than you bargained for. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Don't peel the husk or silk before cooking your corn. Instead, throw the whole ear of corn, husk and all, right on the barbecue</span> or straight into a 350F oven for 10 minutes, at least. The heat will cook the sticky silk threads and make them easier to pull off. <br /><br />Protected in the husk, corn can stay on the grill or in the oven for nearly 30 minutes and be fully cooked through. Leave the corn for a shorter time if you just want to peel the husk and silk, and then boil the corn in water. I prefer to toast the corn "naked" on the grill for a slightly smoky taste. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Summer corn ideas</span>: <br /><br />Pull the husk and silk back, but don't detach from the cob. Tie with a short piece of twine for an elegant backyard presentation. <br /><br />Turn the corn vertical and run a knife down the cob to free all the kernels. <br />Then: Add to a chopped salad with tomatoes and avocado. <br />Add to any salsa for some bright yellow color. <br /><br />Stir kernels into cornmeal dough for cornbread; bring to your local summer chili cook-off.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-68278352565002525402010-07-01T10:26:00.000-07:002010-07-04T09:45:34.189-07:00Best Summer Idea Ever: Pizzas on the Grill<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijD1FDtQp2PmWcII0XuTlFiM98ROgq3eQWsVYhsjn4K6w0BqYfQXExTOkzfTryhQO6cbcCgEg1d9OfIyK_xy5L3pRPvre9PYqoLl9Dik34IObP-WQk0Nrad40w7gCm8ASIfBP4NsnQ6Dc/s1600/PIZZA+duo+on+grill.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijD1FDtQp2PmWcII0XuTlFiM98ROgq3eQWsVYhsjn4K6w0BqYfQXExTOkzfTryhQO6cbcCgEg1d9OfIyK_xy5L3pRPvre9PYqoLl9Dik34IObP-WQk0Nrad40w7gCm8ASIfBP4NsnQ6Dc/s400/PIZZA+duo+on+grill.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489397710211373442" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It's the Fourth of July, and everyone has the grill going. If you're in need of barbecue inspiration, here's a list of (nearly) everything under the sun that can be grilled: <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/30/dining/30mini.html?_r=1&ref=dining">101 Reasons to Light the Grill</a>. NY Times Dining columnist Mark Bittman recommends the simply genius (#89 Cuban pork sandwiches and #97 Pound cake) and the playful stretch (#3 Tofu? #10,11 AND 12 Corn, and #101 Olives for a dirty martini. Really?). Filled with mostly good suggestions, the list does suffer one glaring omission: grilled pizzas. Trust me, these thin-crust charred pizzas will end for good your off-again-on-again abusive relationship with the frozen, grocery store variety. Just try it. You'll never cook pizza in the oven again. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">But won't the dough melt through the grill?</span> you balk. <span style="font-style:italic;">How is that possible?</span> my friends ask incredulously every time I've made pizzas in this way. The key to cooking a pizza on the grill is <span style="font-weight:bold;">heat</span>; the grill must be hot hot hot. Think of a wood-fired oven; those babies are glowing red. By keeping the cover on the grill for at least ten minutes before cooking, you're essentially pre-heating the oven. <br /><br />The next crucial component is the dough. Pizza dough is easy to make, and can be made well beforehand. Actually, the dough is best if it's made the night before and allowed to rest overnight in the refrigerator. However, if you don't decide on dinner plans until the last minute, don't worry. You can make the dough, let it rest while you prepare your toppings and still be good to go. <br /><br />This dough recipe comes from my good friend Deborah, a fellow culinary student at Greystone in St. Helena. Though initially hesitant to share her secrets, Deborah eventually caved to my constant pestering after I saw her cook pizzas on the grill at school. The thin crust pizzas crisp up in a few minutes with the barbecue's high heat, and the char marks on the crust impart a smoky, rustic flavor that neither a pizza stone nor a regular baking sheet can produce. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Pizza Dough</span> <br />yield: about 10- 8in. pizzas <br /><br />4 cups flour (you can substitute up to 2 cups of whole wheat flour if you like) + additional flour for the counter/rolling out process<br />2 cups warm water <br />1 oz yeast (1 little packet) <br />1 tsp sugar <br />1 TBSP olive oil <br />salt to taste (I like 1-2 TBSP) <br /><br />optional: 1/3 cup rough chopped herbs, like marjoram or oregano to give the crust a little color. I had some dried oregano and marjoram in the spice drawer, I just tossed some into the dry flour before adding liquid. <br /><br />1. Pour warm water and sugar into a small bowl; add yeast. Give the mixture a quick stir and let sit 10 minutes to activate yeast. <br />2. In a large mixing bowl, combine flour and salt (and herbs, if using). Make a little well in the middle of the flour. <br />3. Smell the bowl of yeast; it should smell like a bakery at 6 am full of fresh, warm bread. Add the olive oil to the liquid. <br />4. Pour the liquid into the well in the flour. Mix well with a wooden spoon. <br />5. The mixture will be a little wet, so add a small handful of flour as you mix it until the dough is manageable. It should ball up and not stick too badly to the sides of the bowl. Once you can handle the dough, sprinkle a large handful of flour on the counter or on a cutting board (put a wet paper towel under the cutting board to hold it in place). Move the ball of dough to the floured surface and knead for 5 to 10 minutes. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtcQ33rkQrGFhGEW_6BtJsWhphaiz-ID0uEiLGsLvie3w_LyPyP5m7HAjnpmJ0MZ5rf_WWx9ocGwTODQyTcqO1QuzZg4V_wANED1BCvjzpYiuQtWvEleM6xAKX4-TEpLSDkCN66enYJmc/s1600/PIZZA+kneading+dough.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtcQ33rkQrGFhGEW_6BtJsWhphaiz-ID0uEiLGsLvie3w_LyPyP5m7HAjnpmJ0MZ5rf_WWx9ocGwTODQyTcqO1QuzZg4V_wANED1BCvjzpYiuQtWvEleM6xAKX4-TEpLSDkCN66enYJmc/s320/PIZZA+kneading+dough.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489395860980861250" /></a><br />I tend to use kneading time as a stress release. Remember your boss who likes to ignore/berate/harass you? Now's the time to work that out. The more you work the dough, the more you activate the yeast and start the formation of the dough texture that we love so much. <br />6. Once the dough is elastic, place it back in the mixing bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let it rest in a warm spot in the kitchen for about an hour; it will grow in size. This is desirable. Don't freak out. Your dough is alive.<br />7. After an hour, punch the dough down and reshape into a ball. At this point, you can put the dough into a gallon plastic Ziplock bag and leave it overnight in the refrigerator. It will continue to grow in size, but at a much slower pace because of the cooler temperature. <br />8. If you're using the dough right away, break it into baseball-sized clumps, and roll out into pizza rounds. If you don't have a rolling pin, a wine bottle works. We MacGyver'ed this move at a recent dinner party and it served us just fine. Less-than-perfect circles add to the rustic, homemade quality of these pizzas, so don't trip too hard on the shapes. <br />9. Lay each rolled out pizza onto a piece of waxed paper, layering wax paper between each one. Put the tray of stacked dough in the refrigerator until just before you're going to make the pizzas; the colder the dough, the better it will transfer from the waxed paper to the grill, and the better it will hold its shape. <br />10. Get down to it. Clean a hot grill with a wire brush. Lay the dough straight onto the grill rack. When the dough cooks half-way through, it will be rigid enough to flip. Turn it over and then spread a thin layer of sauce, leaving a border all around the edges for your crust. Top with cheese (always less than you think you need, too much cheese contributes to saggy pie a la Pizza Hut) and whatever toppings you can imagine. <br /><br />For sauce, I like Rao's tomato sauce and Buitoni pesto, both available at most grocery stores. (The ambitious can make their own sauces too; that blog entry is forthcoming. ;-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7iVyTX9J500t_ILhYTNbHzt20HEQR3E9_-CnL8mDeV7GMeciNvHFHvtliQbqj2Bo_M-4az7GWJI0E5uWe4GDOcUbIpk-ZxRsJ_3Lepx3-HsKLzYm5J_FdLSIMqr-bPsDsERD3T_4Jis/s1600/PIZZA+on+grill.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7iVyTX9J500t_ILhYTNbHzt20HEQR3E9_-CnL8mDeV7GMeciNvHFHvtliQbqj2Bo_M-4az7GWJI0E5uWe4GDOcUbIpk-ZxRsJ_3Lepx3-HsKLzYm5J_FdLSIMqr-bPsDsERD3T_4Jis/s400/PIZZA+on+grill.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489396564004802946" /></a><br /><br />Since the heat comes from below on a barbecue and the pizza dough cooks so quickly with this technique, I like to cook my toppings beforehand so they only need to warm through. That way, once the cheese is melted, you know the pizza is done. It also helps to have all your toppings ready in bowls; easy access to the toppings is key to inviting guests to create their own. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxI7VVlew8O3m0fmYDoSf871GONjdX_GxfN3h5wERqhwBoLz4ktnkYxFMpnZll_Oy_DfvwGHT8AF6GQ9ro8SOtQ8oIpr21qAcUBg7bmDNYqnnVtee2X9H6xRIS4N2o-ItNOf11ycs-09M/s1600/PIZZA+toppings.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxI7VVlew8O3m0fmYDoSf871GONjdX_GxfN3h5wERqhwBoLz4ktnkYxFMpnZll_Oy_DfvwGHT8AF6GQ9ro8SOtQ8oIpr21qAcUBg7bmDNYqnnVtee2X9H6xRIS4N2o-ItNOf11ycs-09M/s320/PIZZA+toppings.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489396076150100562" /></a><br /><br /><br />Some of my favorite toppings are: <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Caramelized onions</span>- thinly slice two yellow onions and cook them in a saute pan over medium-low heat for 20-30 minutes, stirring every so often. <br />Below: onions at the beginning of the process. Let them cook down until they're brownish and sweet, seen in the white bowl in the photo here to the right. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_bFdmKduySToCfgmQXet9lNvn3fMQkoTmRdSuYRSyxahsB0gGVhTc4i3_KmT4NUKUvDnZ3rvafMUX3kcnoSLGlemG3_CG6yLpDjxgVwZdiXe-ZqEbq8x2i7oZbJ5PVUPmq9hJLmAIeA/s1600/PIZZA+caramelized+onions.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_bFdmKduySToCfgmQXet9lNvn3fMQkoTmRdSuYRSyxahsB0gGVhTc4i3_KmT4NUKUvDnZ3rvafMUX3kcnoSLGlemG3_CG6yLpDjxgVwZdiXe-ZqEbq8x2i7oZbJ5PVUPmq9hJLmAIeA/s320/PIZZA+caramelized+onions.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489396955531797186" /></a><br />Your kitchen will smell good enough to bring the neighbors around, and the onions will develop a deep brown sugar color and taste. A good task to knock out while the dough is rising. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sauteed mushrooms</span>- slice white mushrooms and saute over medium heat with a tablespoon or two of white wine. When the wine is nearly all cooked off and the mushrooms are soft, reserve them in a small bowl for topping later. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Shaved Parmiggiano Reggiano cheese</span>. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Dollops of goat cheese. <br />Rounds of fresh Mozzarella.</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Roasted garlic</span>-take a whole head of garlic, paper skin still on, and place in an oven-safe pan. Coat with a little olive oil and just leave the pan in a 375F oven for 45 minutes, or until the softened garlic can be squeezed easily from the paper. A little sticky, this roasted garlic paste can be spread right onto the crust or dotted onto the sauce. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Arugula or Spinach. <br />Thinly sliced tomatoes. <br />Pepperoni or salami.</span> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grapes sliced in half</span> (really! An unexpected but welcome sweet note) <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Fresh basil leaves</span>. <br /><br /><br />My favorite combination: caramelized onions, goat cheese and arugula on a pesto pizza. Yes, I love goat cheese on everything but this combination of flavors is sweet, rich, slightly bitter and salty all at once. On the pizza below: tomato sauce, sauteed mushrooms, caramelized onions and Parmesan cheese. Also a winning mix of flavors. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVyQkek-tzaO5VGA4i0eKgWaJpRcQU8ljdn8llHUtVxd9G0EIm263g2pPNA9z2hTbylq2Vr_XggVaPcJfvLUagCR9s6IKY0jwjVlTzLHoFs-EH3YH_ca9qM0JfJYPIsVPkv6BsSJupt4/s1600/PIZZA+finished+1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVyQkek-tzaO5VGA4i0eKgWaJpRcQU8ljdn8llHUtVxd9G0EIm263g2pPNA9z2hTbylq2Vr_XggVaPcJfvLUagCR9s6IKY0jwjVlTzLHoFs-EH3YH_ca9qM0JfJYPIsVPkv6BsSJupt4/s400/PIZZA+finished+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489397245458650514" /></a><br /><br />Unlike burgers or tri-tip steak, which can monopolize the grill and bring out macho fire-monger tendencies, the grilled pizza party encourages all guests to participate in the production of the meal. <br /><br />Herein lies the beauty of grilling pizzas. Everyone can top their pizza as they see fit. The only requirement is that we gather around the grill and discuss our topping tactics and techniques with a cold beer in hand and the setting sun shining in our faces.<br /><br />Happy Fourth of July!Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1553428001690945671.post-79968290787006828432010-05-13T05:51:00.000-07:002010-05-13T06:08:18.020-07:00Tip of the Day: Better Grilled ChickenIt's a midweek evening. You've just gone for a run after work, you just showed the gym who's boss. You come home and you're starving, but you want to make a healthy dinner. You toss a large spring salad, you grill some chicken breast, and you sit down for a vegetable and protein feast. Except your grilled chicken tastes like chalk board dust pressed into a little brick of a breast. It's dry, stringy meat that brings nothing to your meal. What gives? <br /><br />Here's a little trick to keep chicken moist <em>and </em>healthy: <br /><strong>Keep the skin on the chicken breast (or any piece of chicken) when you're cooking it, and use both a pan and the oven to cook a moist, flavorful piece of meat.</strong> Put a tablespoon or two of olive oil in an oven-safe frying pan and let it heat up. Once the oil is slick and viscous (it will slide easily around the pan and look shimmery), place the chicken breast skin side down and let it sear for a few minutes. Don't move it; you'll lose juices and it shouldn't burn if you have enough olive oil. You don't even need to turn it. After the piece has a little color, pop the whole pan in the oven at 400F for 7ish minutes. When you remove it from the oven, the chicken will have retained its juices and flavor, saving you from choking down chicken-shaped cardboard clippings. <br /><br />I admit that in college I used a Foreman grill to cook chicken, but I'm never going back. The design of the Foreman grill squeezes out any and all juice (read: flavor). Leaving the skin on for the cooking process helps retain those juices. If you're really watching the calorie intake, remove the skin AFTER the cooking process, since the skin will protect the meat from moisture loss and burning. If you're down with crispy, golden goodness, leave the skin on. You'll be reminded that chicken doesn't have to be boring.Ruthiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427525885642655387noreply@blogger.com0