Starving Sparrow

Talk to me about food!

2011-02-03T14:57:00.000-08:00

I absolutely love good food. I imagine the way a sublimely ripe tomato feels warm and full when I pick it off the vine. I dream about beautifully striated treviso or radicchio piled high at the farmers market. The pale green, deep wine colored red, and stark white mingling together on imperfect leaves. I strive to cook homemade pasta till its just al dente and I can still taste the exact blend of the simplest ingredients... flour and egg.

Lately I've been head over heals for anything green. I can't get enough broccoli rabe, escarole, spinach, and even frozen peas (they make a pretty fresh 'spring' pea soup). I think its due to the complete absence of green this time of year. The landscape here on the Cape is bleak. Winter has scoured this surface down to its most elemental and left us all blinking, adjusting to the harsh surroundings.

My strong sentiment comes from a longing for great food and, even more, for foodie folks.

I feel a bit like an alien from another planet. On my planet, food is everything. Who grows it? Where is it from? How can it be prepared? Let's discuss any and all applications in depth. Let's refer to an expert. Lets grow and cook and eat and talk about growing and cooking and eating. On that planet I learned something new every day. I was inspired.

A bit scary, but that's the gist of it. That's where I 'grew up'. That's where my passion began and was fostered. For the past ten years, without any effort, I was surrounded by friends, co-workers and guests who's interests were like mine. I was spoiled.

Here on the Cape, I have met some extraordinary food folks, had wonderful conversations and eaten delicious local fare. I know the same food minded people are out there. I know there are fantastic products being grown and prepared skillfully by creative chefs and cooks. It just seems to take so much more effort to find them, to connect, to stay connected.

I've been lazy. Its easy to have a passion when you have to do very little to feed it. I'm not giving up my love of food. I've just got to put my money, or maybe some delicious local shellfish, where my mouth is. I have to reach out in many directions and learn to communicate in different ways.

Like the little birds outside our window that have managed to survive this winter of all winters, I have to forage a bit farther afield.

Papa's Jacket

2010-11-08T13:34:00.000-08:00

I forgot my Papa... Not entirely, but a little bit. Growing up, he and I were very close. Two peas in a pod you might say. We are both Leos and the bond between ferocious felines is something to be reckoned with.

Papa died three years ago at the age of eighty-eight. My husband and I were living in San Francisco. We had been there for over seven years and the physical miles of separation had distanced me a bit from Papa in his last years. I was deeply saddened when I received news of his passing, but that man, weakened, thin and pale, was a tamed version of the mighty lion who had been a strong and loyal friend from the day I was born.

I lost him, and all that remained were memories, faint glimpses of our lives together. I enjoyed reminiscing but did so less and less frequently. Papa became a good spirit that I knew was watching out for me and our family from somewhere 'out there'.

Our move to Cape Cod is an ever evolving lesson in life. As our time here becomes less about summer vacation and more about the beginning of a new life, I am confronted by a past that was obscured by thousands of miles. This house was built by my grandparents and every part of this property was touched by Papa. I think of him daily...

A few days ago I was putting away some winter coats in the back of the closet in Gramma's room. I spotted a vaguely familiar pale green, quilted fabric clinging to an old wooden hanger. I snatched it out of the closet and pulled it out into the light.

'I think, I'm pretty sure... this is Papa's jacket!'

In an instant I knew it was his and could see him standing out on the deck in the crisp, cool of early fall, the jacket zipped close to his younger, stronger frame. It might have been the day he decided to build a deck on to the back room, or maybe the day he planted one of the trees out front. He may have been cleaning out the eaves or touching up paint. No matter the chore, there he was standing in front of me in that fantastic jacket.

I looked more closely at the garment. It's a little rough around the edges. The cuffs of the sleeves are paint splattered and I could see Papa's strong, wrinkled workman's hands at their end. I smelled the fabric hoping to catch even the slightest scent of Old Spice, Papa's favorite.

I have to admit, holding it out in front of me, the jacket looked a little small. My Papa was a big man, or so it always seemed. Now I think that maybe it was his spirit, his powerful presence, his passion for life and his family that made him a bit larger than life.

I unzipped it and slid my arm into his. I zipped it back up and stood there for a minute imagining Papa's arms wrapped around me.

The jacket fit perfectly.

I called Gramma to ask if it was alright for me to wear the jacket. Sure, she said, and told me that, after cleaning out many of his belongings over the past few years, she just couldn't give away this one last article.

I think it was meant to be. My fellow leo is nowhere near as far away as I once thought. I'll wear the jacket, live here at the Cape house, for now, and I'll build my new life a bit closer to the people and places I grew up with.

A Few Things to Love Living on the Cape

2010-10-15T10:17:00.000-07:00

My morning run along the bike path at Coast Guard. The view is always incredible, rain or shine.

Tammy's home made fig jam slathered on a piece of curried naan with lots of butter. Breakfast at its best!

Planting over 100 little daffodil and crocus bulbs everywhere in the yard. I anticipate a colorful spring.

Tuna sashimi and Wellfleet oysters. Fresher than fresh. Tasting of the sea.

'Phase 3'

2010-10-04T18:57:00.000-07:00

When Chris and I moved here we spent three days packing up our one bedroom apartment into a small part of a big moving truck. We'll call that 'phase 1'.

Once that truck arrived here on the East Coast we just piled that old life into a shed in my mothers back yard and forgot about it ('phase 2'). We were tired of schlepping anonymous boxes of stuff, truly annoyed by our possessions.

It's October now and most of our gear has been in those boxes since last February. We drove to the Cape this Spring armed with the essentials, never really looking back on the awful, pending task of unpacking and organizing all of our stuff.

Well, you've got to pay the piper sooner or later. For Chris and I that payment will come in installments. We are borrowing a home, furniture, appliances, decor etcetera for the time being. We do not have to unpack those things. We do have to move them. We have overstayed our welcome in the shed and everything, our whole little apartments worth of cardboard boxes, packing tape and bubble wrap has to be moved, once again, to an actual storage unit (phase 3).

In addition, boxes of cold, foggy, typical SF weather clothing that we have had no use for in the heat of East Coast summer have to be unpacked. This past weekend my mom drove up from RI with a carload of those boxes (phase 3 cont...).

I haven't really thought twice about leaving San Francisco since our arrival here until I started pulling those boxes out of the car and peering into the past. It seems weird that a bunch of old clothes might cause one to wax nostalgic, but that's exactly what happened. All of a sudden I got a little sad.

I started looking through all those folded pieces of a wardrobe that defined me in a different life. Me managing a fantastic, vibrant, busy restaurant in the heart of a beautiful city, or running through the Presidio watching the sun come up over Chrissy Field and feeling so incredibly lucky to be a part of such an amazing community. Me meeting wonderful friends for coffee, drinks or dinner, or driving to the ferry building farmers market early every Saturday morning anticipating all the tempting treats on offer. Me, in my warm little apartment, cooking dinner, watching tv, reading on the couch, doing laundry, living my life.

I know that our decision to move was the right one at the right time. I'm not sad because I regret a thing. I'm just a little envious of the life I had. It takes time to 'get a life'. We haven't been here long and I'm not the most patient person. I want to look into my closet and see me here with a great job, friends and a place to call my own. I hope that, eventually, new clothes will take the place of the past and reflect a new life that is all mine once again. I think that will be the final phase.

A.R.T.

2010-09-29T20:36:00.001-07:00

We sped out of the beach parking lot on a desperate mission to save a life. I was driving and Chris was complaining that I needed to accelerate. I'm not a speeder and I do not like breaking any the law no matter how desperate the situation. I pushed down on the pedal... a little.

Earlier, we had been on the beach soaking up the last rays of summer sun when we spotted the unfortunate victim. A junior sea gull lumbered awkwardly across the sand dragging his injured appendage. It was obvious he had met some type of relentless foe. His wing dangled at an unnatural angle. He was alert but clearly uncomfortable, and looking for food, stopping just short of beach blankets in hope of a handout. It was heartbreaking from the start.

It doesn't take anything at all to convince Chris to help an animal and this poor, pathetic site put the rescue wheels in motion. He called Wild Care, the wild animal rescue shelter, to find out how we could help. They advised him to try to catch the gull in a towel and transport it to them as quickly as possible. He darted up the stairs and ran home to get the car and a box.

In the meantime I sat with Oscar and kept a close eye on the creature as he made his way slowly down the beach. Chris arrived back shortly and set out to catch the bird with a beach towel and a ceramic bowl of dog food as a lure. Dog food? I brought Oscar and the gear up to the car and then returned to the beach in time to see the heroic capture. Needless to say the bird had no interest in the dog food and was caught sans lure.

We ran the squirming towel up the stairs to the parking lot. Adrenaline flowing, Chris was firmly urging me to get in the car and drive while he held the shrouded animal in his lap. Thankfully, in the few seconds before pulling out, I had a fleeting vision of our speeding car careening out of control as a large, lame, panicked sea bird tried to flutter its way out of Chris's grasp. Our friend was already struggling a bit and I insisted that we take a minute to try to put him in the box rather than drive with him loose.

We got him in the box easily and were off.

We were just at Wild Care two weeks ago with an injured squirrel. We're not sure if he made it but, sadly, our pitiful gull did not. His injuries, we were told, were too extensive and the best they could do was give him painkillers to make his last hours tolerable.

As we drove home we felt relieved that this animal was not left to suffer and starve on the sand. We even laughed a bit. What are the chances of having to rescue not one, but two wild animals in less than two weeks?

Well, here on Cape Cod, apparently pretty good.

Oh, A.R.T.? Animal Rescue Team... that's us.

Summer Is Very Loud

2010-09-28T14:56:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in the living room of Casa del Sol. There are wooden chimes clanking just outside the screen door. The wind from a passing rain storm is subsiding. I can faintly hear the waves crashing on the shore below the bluff. There are crickets and some birds bidding farewell to daylight as evening creeps in.

At long last Chris and I have the house to ourselves. It is quiet.

It has been a wonderful summer. We spent it here in the woods. Walking the dirt road to the beach. Basking in the warm seasonal sun. We enjoyed a cacophony of friends and family and all that Casa del Sol offers to anyone who wants to escape the 'real' world and lose themselves at the Cape.

It's hard to imagine this house without summer and all of it's encompassing sounds, but I can honestly say, so far...so good.

We are adjusting to our new lives and hoping that our choice to stay here on the Cape permanently will be rewarding. We are slowly fleshing out a small business plan and I am hoping that I can take advantage of the impending quiet and concentrate a bit more on putting my thoughts into words here in this blog.

No one in my family has ever spent the year here at the Cape house. To date, it has been a summer home left to the solitude of its location in the winter. I have always had to say a teary-eyed goodbye at the end of the season, wishing that I could stay. This year will be an experiment, a lesson and a test to see if living here is right for me, and for us.

I'm starting now to record what I should have been recording since our move here at the beginning of the summer. The noise was distracting, but I am back on track. A year at Casa del Sol...

Purslane Is In

2010-08-03T09:59:00.000-07:00

This spring we got to do something we have been talking about being able to do for years in SF. We planted our first summer garden. Our goal was modest. We wanted to get a feel for what was possible as well as for the time commitment our small plot would require. We have learned a lot...

Lesson number one, purslane is not a weed. I'm being totally honest when I tell you that I did not recognize this cool green growing almost everywhere in our garden, despite the fact that I must have run into it at the market in SF. Shame on me. For weeks I was pulling it out from in between our rows of veggies unaware of what I was throwing aside.

Purslane is healthy and versatile. High in omega - 3s, it is a crisp, subtly flavored green that can be tossed into salads like an herb. It can also be sauteed, stems and all, with a bit of butter or olive oil and served alongside meat or fish, as well as cooked in a soup or stew. Once cooked it takes on a piquant flavor.

Recently this humble green has garnered a lot of attention. Now that I know what we've got, I'm seeing it everywhere. It is sold at our local farmers market and been highlighted in a number of food related articles I have just read. Planting and harvesting our first summer garden is an ongoing learning experience. Our 'discovery' of purslane and is just one of many valuable lessons learned that I'm passing on.

Eggplant-alicious

2010-07-27T11:30:00.001-07:00

How many eggplant recipes do you know? Until a couple of days ago my repertoire was limited to griddled eggplant with various accoutrement depending on the season and what I had on hand, and that old standby eggplant parmigiana.

Thanks once again to my mom and her insatiable appetite for food from the flea, (she returned from work the other day with three enormous specimen to add to some we had purchased from Kelly Farm Stand) I've got a couple more recipes to add to that list.

The best part about starting with a raw ingredient is the 'research'. I love pulling my books off the shelf, thumbing through well worn pages, writing down notes and envisioning the outcome of each recipe read. Of course the internet is also a rich source of ideas and techniques. I usually spend more time than I need to looking up recipes. Not because it's necessary, but because I get so caught up in all the possibilities.

Eggplant is such an alluring fruit. It comes in many varieties, its shape varies from slender and elongated to small and oval, and the color can be rich deep aubergine, variegated purple and white, vivid green and even red. My eggplants were fairly common. I had a two of the large, firm, oblong shaped variety as well as a few of the long, thin Japanese eggplants.

I've been doing a bit of experimentation with spices lately and so a recipe for Madras eggplant caught my eye first. Madras sauce originated in the South of India. It is made up of blend of chili, cumin, coriander, anise, cinnamon, paprika and turmeric. Some savory ingredients used are garlic, fresh ginger, lemon and chilies. The dish varies and can include some or all of these ingredients depending upon the cook. Typically it has a tomato base and can be used with meat, fish or vegetables.

I began by roasting the eggplant until it was browned but still firm. Then I set to work on the sauce. I finely diced onion, garlic and ginger and cooked them in a pot on medium with olive oil, ground chili, cumin, coriander, cinnamon and smoked paprika.

The recipe I had also listed fenugreek seeds which I had heard of but never used. I didn't have any on hand so I looked up its flavor profile and any substitution suggestions. It was described as combination of bittersweet and maple. There were suggestions to use fennel, mustard seeds or vinegar instead of fenugreek. Given that information, I put together a blend of dijon mustard, maple syrup, fennel seed and red wine vinegar and added it to the pot.

I let the alliums and ginger cook until they were translucent and imbued with the flavor of the combined spices. I added one can of crushed San Marzano tomatoes and let it all simmer. I cut the cooled eggplant into half inch cubes and drained a can of chick peas to add to the simmering sauce. I finished the dish with a handful of roughly cut cilantro and fresh grated nutmeg.

My second eggplant dish was inspired by Alice Waters. Alice listed an eggplant and tomato gratin that sounded so Chez Panisse, simple, highlighting just the ingredients. I imagined it, elegant and concise accompanying a rustic dish of grilled lamb. Just right. It was my intention to reproduce it just as it was written but part way through I thought to make a couple of subtle changes.

I diced a bit of garlic and enough onion to cover the bottom of a gratin dish and sauteed them with bay, thyme olive oil and butter. To that I added oregano. I sliced the eggplant into discs about a quarter of an inch thick and the tomato twice that thickness. When the onion was soft and sweet I spread it into the bottom of a buttered gratin dish. A sprinkling of diced kalamata olives and capers was my addition. Then I layered the tomato and eggplant, drizzled olive oil and seasoned the whole thing with salt and pepper. I baked the dish, covered in the oven at 400 for 45 minutes. I finished it uncovered for another 15 minutes and then let it cool and set before serving it.

My timid additions of oregano, kalamata and capers were a success. The finished dish felt Mediterranean and tasted earthy and brite at the same time. The original recipe is, of course, perfect as is. But, I think, Alice would approve. I hope she would.

Even today, a few days after this eggplant cooking extravaganza, I am still eating eggplant! I have enjoyed it and I'm already thinking of new and different applications for all that I learned.

Mom's Pick

2010-07-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

My mom sells amazing jewelry and miscellany at the Wellfleet flea market all summer. Vendors at this market run a pretty broad gamut. There are t shirt and sock folks, faux Rolex watches and designer handbags, antique dealers, vinyl record and tape cassette sales persons, shoes, rugs, kitchen appliances... you get the gist.

Rather recently, there are also gardeners and farmers pawning the fruits of their labor. My mom is a sucker for a good deal and this produce is certainly a bargain. Not to mention she is a very sociable person and is inevitably lured in by the open, friendly personalities selling honest food.

A couple of days ago she came back from work with tomatoes, some summer squash, a few very ripe peaches and way too many, extremely ripe plums. She told me that the woman selling them would have thrown them out, that they were free and that she was sure I could find something to do with them. I was less than thrilled.

Task at hand... make use of plums. Furthermore, make use of peaches soon to be equally as over ripe. I reluctantly accepted the challenge and began washing off each piece of bloated, soft stone fruit. I would not have chosen to bring these pieces home. They were uninspiring and seemed to have little to offer any 'good' recipe. Maybe a fruit smoothy, but that is hardly a challenge. I decided to spend a little time looking up recipes. Maybe I'd find something that would move me.

After an hour or two plowing through my few unpacked cookbooks and scouring the web, I had a couple of ideas. I also gained a little cache of plum recipe knowledge that I know will come in handy somewhere down the road.

I decided that the seven or eight plums that were literally balls of juice wrapped in taught dark purple skin should become some sort of condiment. I peeled the skin off and then slowly simmered any and all contents until I had a 'jam'. While it was simmering, I added a bit of brown sugar, some cumin, cinnamon, nutmeg and a dash of cayenne. It took a bit of time for it to thicken, but the result was great.

Spiced Plum Jam was delicious on a cracker with a piece of aged Manchego, it was also a treat warm and drizzled over vanilla bean ice cream. I envision it working as a sweet foil for a simple grilled steak or stirred into warm rice for a subtly sweet and spiced flavor base.

In addition to the jam, I also made use of the remaining, slightly firmer peaches and plums in a simple crumble. I combined the stone fruit with frozen blueberrys that gramma and I had picked over Fourth of July weekend, then added a bit of honey, lemon zest and torn basil. I made a quick topping with flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and butter. I put the fruit into a gratin dish, mounded the topping over it and baked it until it was golden and bubbling.

Talk about satisfying... I felt like I had saved the world. Well, maybe just a few forlorn plums but, nonetheless, it was an accomplishment. Nothing went to waste, I learned quite a bit along the way and we all got to eat some pretty delicious fruit well past its prime.

The moral of this story is that moms do, sometimes, know best.

Back on Track with Summer Zuppa

2010-07-18T15:29:00.001-07:00

Let's see... Last post June 6th. That's a long time ago. I wish I could quickly update you on all that has transpired since then, or at least list the highlights. Unfortunately, when time flys all those hours and days seem to meld together. That's not to say nothing has happened. I'm just hard pressed to come up with any really juicy details that might keep you reading past the first day or two. I will work on including some of the highlights in these new blogs.

Chris and I are making the Cape our new home. We decided that rather than recreate our SF life here in the East, we'd try something a bit different. We know we love city life, people, places etc... But, there has always been something about the Cape.

It has been an incredible Spring and early Summer. We planted our first garden, a bit haphazardly as we were rushed putting it in. There were more than a few failures but the wonders of mother nature never cease. We've had beets, some lovely radishes, salad bowls full of spicy, wild arugula and snap peas that couldn't be sweeter if we dipped them in honey. I just picked two zucchini this morning and, last but not least, we are eagerly awaiting the tomatoes.

In addition to our meager harvest, my mom's friend Tom has supplied us with treasures of his own. Yesterday he arrived with zucchini, summer squash, green beans and corn.

Today, I decided to put those veggies to work. It's hot as heck, but for some reason I was inspired to make a summer vegetable soup. My thought was to make it chunky and light on the broth. Basically a pile of delicious, farm fresh produce served at room temperature, not too hot, over a crusty chunk of good bread with a drizzle of basil pesto.

I had some chorizo in the fridge so that served to create a base along with some extra virgin olive oil, thyme, oregano, bay, fennel, onion and garlic. To that I added cubed, red potatoes and tons of diced zucchini and squash. I put my covered soup pot in the oven and let it all cook together until almost soft. Then I put it back on the stove and added some chicken stock and water to just cover the contents. In went green beans, fresh corn, a little red pepper and sweet grape tomatoes to simmer for another 15 minutes or so.

I was very hot, and very happy with the result. The soup tasted fresh. It looked like a rustic garden on a plate. I quickly made a fresh pesto from basil, spinach, garlic, olive oil and salt. I crisped a loaf of bread in the oven and tore off large pieces for the bottom of the bowl. Then I ladled the zuppa over the top and drizzled the pesto. Yum!

Last But Not Least

2010-06-06T12:24:00.000-07:00

I really am saving up stories. I was so worried that I wouldn't have enough to write about, that I wouldn't be inspired. Turns out I've got a lot to say.

My sister Sam is twenty one, just graduated from college and very interested in organic farming. A friend of hers from school mentioned a woman that has a small organic farm in Cummaquid just a short drive up the Cape. Sam did a bit of research and learned that the woman runs a farm stand right on Route 6A so we decided to check it out.

We were hoping to meet Jean Iversen. The owner and sole operator of Kelly Farm. Jean is in her late eighties and has been running the farm and farm stand for over forty years.

We found the farm stand empty, not open for the season yet. Sam remembered an article she read giving vague directions to the actual farm. It mentioned a driveway marked by a small white sign with a number on it. We decided to try to drive around a bit in hopes that we might stumble upon it and soon we spotted the driveway and the sign. We pulled down a short dirt path and there in front of us was Jean.

I don't think either of us was prepared for this truly incredible meeting. Jean is about five feet tall and cannot possible weigh more than eighty pounds. She has chin length white hair pinned back on the side with a barrette and a fisherman's hat to block the sun. An oversized, worn sweatshirt, old jeans and work boots drape her tiny frame. Her soil stained hands are wrapped around the handle of a large garden cart with eight to ten tomato plants placed inside.

Sam and I quickly got out of the car to introduce ourselves. Jean seemed a bit confused but quickly welcomed us. She has sparkling blue eyes and a warm smile. She is open and friendly, telling us that she is on her way to deliver the plants to neighbors but has plenty of time to treat us to a brief tour of her garden.

Jean farms about an acre of land. She starts seeds in March by her wood burning stove and then plants them outdoors when the whether permits. She pointed out rows of kale, chard and collards; tomatoes, italian peppers, garlic, onions, strawberries and blueberries. All in all a grand mix of organic produce that, in the peak of the season, will supply her stand and provide many lucky customers with great eats.

Touring through the rows, Sam and I marveled at this older woman's agility and grace. Every step was deliberate and measured. She pointed out each crop and gave us small glimpses of her endless knowledge of the garden and its bounty. The job of starting, planting, weeding, watering and harvesting is intense and Sam and I cannot imagine how this tiny woman, eighty something years young can possibly do it all. We are inspired.

As we finish our tour we ask Jean if she'd like help delivering those tomato plants. It's the least we could do after interrupting her day. She agrees to a ride and the three of us set out up and down the road to drop off the plants.

Back at the farm, we said our goodbyes and backed out of the driveway as Jean began to kneel in her garden. It's early evening and there is still a lot of work to be done.

Graduation Dinner

2010-05-31T10:09:00.000-07:00

My sister Sam's graduation from Boston College was last weekend. After a bit of research, we decided to celebrate the evening before at a restaurant called Hungry Mother in Cambridge.

Initially, I was drawn in by the website. It's unique, antique and modern at the same time. My initial search was for a neighborhood spot that cared about serving seasonal, local food. As I explored the site, I knew I was in the right place.

The space is small, intimate and inviting. The decor is simple, warm and very much in line with the look and feel of their website. We were greeted by a friendly host and seated almost immediately.

The menu is unpretentious and approachable. It reflects the chefs southern roots and the desire to highlight the best of what the season has to offer by using classic cooking techniques. We decided to try the boiled Virginia peanuts, the spicy pimiento cheese with celery and the ham and biscuits. They were great starters. Just enough salty, spicy, savory to satiate and entice at the same time. The best part was that those boiled peanuts reminded Gramma of trips to the South years ago.

We all tried different entrees. I had a couple of first course offerings as my main in order to try more than one dish. The smoked blue fish pate with crackers and bread and butter pickles was fantastic. My sister had asparagus with a perfectly cooked soft poached egg. It is my belief that if you add an egg to anything it is always better and this tried and true dish did not disappoint.

Chris had Carolina rainbow trout. It was cooked just right and served with the most beautiful, seemingly just picked vegetables. There was also delicious gnocchi with guanciale and pea tendrils. Those little tendrils are so tender and delicate, they taste sweet and just like the peas that grow from them. If you haven't tried them they are a springtime must.

All in all each plate was prepared with care and creativity. Our server was incredible, knowledgeable and passionate about both food and wine. The evening was memorable and I look forward to our next visit to this truly inspiring spot.

Sushi and Fries

2010-05-29T10:07:00.000-07:00

Chris and I haven’t had sushi since we left San Francisco. I will admit that although I enjoy it every once in a while, I rarely crave it and almost never search it out unless I’m really hungry.

In SF we would occasionally walk two blocks up the street to Osaka to grab a bite. The appeal there was always the service. The owners also work on the floor as servers and chefs. They are kind and welcoming to everyone, especially regular patrons. I think, more than the food, we were missing our old routine a bit, missing the bustle of our neighborhood restaurant and the warm smiles that greeted us there for so many years.

Knowing that the vibe here on the Cape is much different, we set out hungry with very few expectations. We decided to go to Mac’s Seafood on Wellfleet Harbor. We knew they had sushi because we had been once before and that was reason enough to check it out again.

The evening was cool, but absolutely beautiful. We parked the car, walked up to the patio and were greeted by a smiling host. We were dressed for the weather and decided we’d be warm enough outside at the bar. I love to dine outdoors and I’m much happier at the bar. Perfect!

As we seated ourselves the bartender greeted Chris by his first name. It turns out he is a friend from high school who Chris had not seen in years, Ethan. We chatted, ordered dirty vodka martinis, looked at the menu and began to relax.

The martinis were great. Ethan was engaging and helpful. The bar was buzzing but not crowded like it can be in full summer swing. We decided on a few pieces of raw fish, a tuna roll and grilled yellow tail collar (not sushi, but one of my favorite dishes). Finally we added a side of salty, thick cut fries to fill our empty bellies.

We sat talking with each other, taken care of by a familiar face, eating our sushi and French fries on Cape Cod. The air smelled of salt, sand and spring flowers. The music was classic rock that transported us back to being twenty-one and free. The food hit the spot.

Leaving the comfort of our well-established lives in California was a big decision. As we move forward here on the East coast, we know there will be times when we long for aspects of that life. It was so nice to discover that even at those times we might be able to slip into a new, but familiar, routine here that is just as satisfying.

If you haven’t had sushi and fries… I recommend it.

Saving up Stories

2010-05-27T14:41:00.000-07:00

Well, if you have been reading this blog since its inception you know that Cape Cod is the best way for me to loose track of time and space. I'm sorry for the lack of communication.

We've been at the cottage on and off since last Friday when we drove up to leave our trusty pooch in the capable hands of Chris's mom, Pam. We dropped the dog and then were off to Boston for the weekend to celebrate my sister Samantha's graduation from Boston College.

Since then we've been back to the Cape to grab the dog, back to Boston for a job interview and then back to the Cape again. Along the way I got to meet with old friends, eat some pretty yummy meals and explore new avenues of the local food community here in my back yard.

I think I've got a couple of good stories. They involve delicious sushi and fries on the water in Wellfleet. An amazing dinner at a neighborhood spot in Cambridge called Hungry Mother and, most recently, a visit to the farm of an awe inspiring eighty-seven year old woman who runs an organic farm stand here on the Cape.

Due to the lack of internet access at the house I will have to relate these stories a bit piecemeal, but I think they are worth telling. Hopefully this will whet your whistle and you'll check back in order to get the full scoop.

leftovers

2010-05-17T16:17:00.000-07:00

I didn't feel like the word deserved to be capitalized. I know, that's a little discriminatory but, they are just leftovers.

Over the past few nights we've had some pretty yummy meals. Braised beef short ribs and gorgonzola polenta, mom's spaghetti and meatballs with a green salad, and a summery baked potato with sour cream, parsley and bacon; and sweet corn on the cob with basil and green garlic butter.

Somehow I ended up with a zested lime and orange begging to be juiced. There were also small amounts of wild arugula, red leaf lettuce, basil, and fresh parsley. Two ears of corn, a handful of tomatoes, ricotta salata cheese and a little green garlic round out the left over list.

I'm certainly no expert but... if I could impart some knowledge learned along the way, it would be to keep a grain/pasta on hand that you can use as a base for 'salads'. For example, quinoa, millet couscous, orzo or pearl pasta can all be cooked in no time and combined with almost anything to make a yummy salad type side or even light main dish.

Tonight, I used quinoa. I chopped the green garlic (any allium will do: green onion, chive, shallot) and combined it with fresh orange juice, lime juice, extra virgin olive oil and salt and pepper to make a bright citrus vinaigrette. Then I sliced up the rest of the tomatoes, stripped the corn kernels off their cobs and picked parsley leaves. I added them all to the vinaigrette. Once the quinoa was cooked and still warm, I tossed it into the bowl with the rest of the ingredients and crumbled the ricotta salata over the top. I also combined what was left of the red leaf, arugula and basil with a touch of olive oil and salt. Finally, I piled the lettuces on a plate and topped them with the warm quinoa salad.

It was light, colorful, flavorful and satisfying.

Leftovers with a capital L.

Simple Stuff

2010-05-14T15:07:00.000-07:00

Tonight I'm in charge of the salad. Salad is my absolute favorite. The greener the better I say!

I combined red and green leaf lettuce with the last of the watercress and some fresh celery leaves. I also added a little shaved fennel (shaved is the idea but sliced super thin is the actuality without my trusty mandolin), some fresh basil and pretty darn sweet grape tomatoes. Even without dressing, this bowl full of emerald leaves and such was tempting, but...

The dressing is the best part!

Chives are everywhere right now. There are lovely little bunches of dark green stalks topped with beautiful lavender colored pompoms out in my mom's garden. They tempt the bees all day long and today they lured me in. I cut a few handfuls knowing exactly what their fate would be, luscious sour cream and chive dressing.

It is so easy, so Spring and so yummy. Just chop up as many chives as you can. Add a little dijon mustard, some sour cream, a bit of red wine vinegar and some salt and pepper. You can adjust the thickness with a bit of half and half or even a little extra virgin olive oil. Mine comes out a little different every time but just as good. And, do not forget those purple blossoms. Taste them. They are the essence of chive! Sprinkle them on top of your salad or, really, anything you like. You will be a gourmet for the day.

It's just that simple.

Macaroni and Cheese

2010-05-12T13:43:00.001-07:00

Macaroni and cheese is oh so versatile, satisfying and delicious. Over the years, I have had three versions that I consider to be stellar, my grandmother's, my friend Robert's and Solstice's.

Gramma's is traditional. It is very cheesey and topped with the perfect crust of breadcrumbs and parmesan cheese. Robert's invoves a creamy bechamel sauce and pancetta. Robert is a chef hence the bechamel and fancy cured meat. I have not eaten that dish for over four years and I still crave it. Solstice is a bar that Chris and I frequented just down the street from our apartment in SF. Their version uses a creamy blue cheese sauce and in they top it with finely diced green apple. Ooh, aah!

Given my affinity for pasta and melted cheese, I have tried my hand at this dish many times. This month's issue of Saveur highlights this comfort food and last night, I was inspired once again.

Although I really wanted to test out their recipe for lobster macaroni and cheese, the frugal shopper in me decided to use up the two links of fresh chorizo and half block of cheddar I had left over in the fridge. Of course, I did shop for a few extras that I hoped would enhance this version.

At the market I found watercress. I haven't had it in quite a while so I put that in the basket along with a head of green leaf lettuce for a salad. I also picked up one red repper and some smoked cheddar cheese to add to the pasta.

When I got home I put my pasta on to boil. I decided to break up the links of chorizo and sautee them more like ground meat to be tossed in with the macaroni. I put the red pepper in the oven on broil so that the skin would blister and char. My cheesey sauce started with a basic white sauce; a little butter, flour and whole milk cooked carefully until thick and creamy. Then I added grated cheddar and smoked cheddar. The cheese melted into that sauce and the whole thing was smoky and rich, and really pretty tasty. I chopped the roasted red pepper and then combined it with the sauce, the meat and the pasta. It all went into a baking dish topped with breadcrumbs and parmesan cheese to finish in the oven.

So far, this is my favorite version of all of my own versions to date. It was smoky, a little spicy, and super cheesey. I tossed the watercress and green leaf with a little mint and a red wine and dijon vinaigrette. It was fresh and light and went well with the pasta.

Chris thought it needed more salt... I don't think so;)

Grandma's Spaghetti and Meatballs

2010-05-10T07:14:00.000-07:00

There is no written recipe. At least none that I've ever seen. Gramma's Spaghetti and Meatballs is just that, Gramma's. I'm pretty sure she sent some form of written instructions to my sister- in-law, Lara, a while ago but it really isn't Gramma's unless Gramma makes it.

My mother and I arrived at the house in Harwinton Thursday afternoon. The day was warm and smelling a bit like summer and the Connecticut hills were brilliant green. Mama and Papa's yard was immaculate and the house was as welcoming as always. Gramma was sitting in the breezeway, taking a break from her numerous daily chores.

Doris, my maternal grandmother, is eighty six years old. She walks about a mile a day around the neighborhood to stay in shape. It is a routine she and my grandfather maintained together until his death a few years ago. On this day she surely spent time cleaning something in the house before weeding one of the gardens or performing some other outdoor chore. She also made her famous baked beans, no small task, and brought them to the family of a friend who had recently passed. Finally, she made spaghetti sauce and meatballs for our dinner. She is truely amazing.

We sit down together at the small kitchen table. Mom drains the pasta. Aunt Claire and I sit waiting anxiously and Gramma brings a steaming pot of sauce and meatballs to the table. In a way this whole scene is a bit of a ritual. Gramma fussing over last minute additions to the meal. Does everyone have something to drink? Her family helping themselves, a bit greedily, to a nourishing meal that only she could produce. There is always more in the fridge should there be a last minute mouth to feed and, if your lucky, Gramma will send you home with a frozen quart container of the sauce. You can heat it up in your own kitchen, whenever you need her company. This meal always plays out the same and it's familiarity is part of what makes it so special.

I'm sure a recipe might get you close but there is a reason it is Gramma's Spaghetti and Meatballs. It has sustained her family at small and large gatherings, in different kitchens over many years. The dish is simple. Perfectly cooked pasta coated with melted butter and topped with her own savory meat sauce, italian sausage and moist, rich pork and beef meatballs. Grated parmesan is the garnish and usually she serves it with a crisp salad of iceberg lettuce, shredded carrots and a red wine vinaigrette. There is always a loaf of crusty bread for sopping up the sauce. And, a spoon set at each place for those who prefer to use it to twirl. Papa always did.

I believe that there are things in life you must try to imprint in your memory because once they are gone you will never be able to experience them the same way again.

Thanks to my Gramma and her fantastic spaghetti and meatballs for the best memories.

Feed the Bird

2010-05-05T18:04:00.000-07:00

I try to make dinner every night. I have a lot of recipe ideas and dinner is an excuse to test them out. Most of the time I'm working with pretty simple stuff. On nights like tonight I'm not recreating some elaborate gourmet meal or trying a complicated or foreign technique for the first time. I just want to put something together that is nourishing and tasty.

There is this great little place called Sandy's just down the road and they carry lots of fruits and veggies from local growers along with the usual specialty items that are sometimes hard to find at the grocery here. Yesterday they had fiddleheads, morels, and ramps in addition to their usual selection. I was tempted, but we're on a budget so I settled for an eggplant, some green onions, a meyer lemon and pearl pasta. I wasn't quite sure then how they would all come together...

This morning my mom returned from the grocery with fresh chorizo. Slowly a plan began to emerge. What about a pearl pasta salad with chorizo and griddled eggplant? I'm a big fan of all things green so I decided that the pasta salad should be served over a green salad. I already had mint and arugula in the fridge. If I tossed that in a meyer lemon vinaigrette it might just be delicious.

So, here it is.

Wild arugula and mint with a squeeze of meyer lemon juice and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil beneath pearl pasta tossed with green onion, shaved fennel, chick peas, sauteed chorizo and eggplant. I also added a bit of fresh parsley and meyer lemon zest to the pasta to brighten the flavor.

A simple and satisfying bite for a hungry bird.

Getting Lost

2010-05-03T11:15:00.000-07:00

We left for the Cape a week ago yesterday. Our plan was to stay a couple of days to help Chris' family with some moving.

What happened? Why are we still here?

Well, I'm pretty sure we're lost.

The Cape can whisk you away without the least effort, leading you down paths you rarely allow yourself time to explore. You wind your way through days and sometimes weeks, stopping frequently for only the simplest pleasures. You are isolated in the most welcoming of ways. It is all encompassing and very hard to leave.

We have spent our days moving furniture and sifting through boxes of memories long forgotten in the attic. We raked innumerable piles of pine needles from the yard, built our first garden from scratch and spring cleaned the cottage. We have taken our time talking to friends, family and the occasional stranger about any and every topic imaginable. And, we have cooked and shared some wonderfully simple meals.

A warm salad of frisee, arugula, crisp bacon, roasted potatoes and a perfectly poached egg was a great late night bite. Linguine with oven roasted tomatoes, grilled fennel, tarragon cream sauce and seared scallops turned out quite yummy. Chris's perfectly grilled steak with a warm pasta salad hit the spot after a long day out in the yard. And, homemade pea soup warmed our bodies and souls on a particularly cold and blustery spring evening.

We were supposed to drive back today but, here we are pushing our stay one more day.

It is warm and rainy. The trees that were bare bones just a day or so ago have soft, new leaves. The air smells like summer, cut grass, wet pavement and marshy salt.

We've left the cottage to access the Internet in hopes that a little taste of 'the real world' will help us to find our way back, off the Cape.

Maybe tomorrow :)

Driving... Me Crazy

2010-04-24T10:49:00.000-07:00

I am not a good driver. I'm pretty sure there are those out there who are born to drive and those who are not. There are a lot of people who would like to consider themselves in the first category, even though they belong in the last. I'm honest. I'm no good!

Chris and I drove to Boston yesterday for a job interview. He was the interviewee so actually I drove. I hated every minute of it. Driving on the highway is like being on a roller coaster. I'm hurtling forward down the highway, cars in front, in back and to the side. I've got to maintain speed to keep up, I can slow down but I cannot stop mid ride and just get off. I'm trapped.

In addition, it is mentally draining. I need to pay constant attention because, surely, many of my fellow drivers are, just like me, not really meant to be driving. Any mistake, even the blink of an eye, could truly mean my own demise. I don't trust anyone on the road.

Needless to say, we made it there and I did not drive on the way back to Rhode Island.

I try to view things like this as experiences that make me stronger and braver. A face your fears kind of attitude. I've been a driver since I was sixteen. I've looked this particular fear in the face many times. I'd like to think that, even though driving doesn't get any easier, every time I choose to drive rather than not to drive I gather a little bit of courage that I can use somewhere else down the road of life.

A Work in Progress

2010-04-22T15:04:00.000-07:00

Starving Sparrow has a new face... and a cute little body! Thanks to Chris, the little bird at the top of the page is forevermore the Starving Sparrow. Just right I think.

This blog is a work in progress. I'm learning how to communicate in a new way and how to share bits and pieces of my life and my loves with whomever is inclined to follow. My years in San Francisco were like building blocks, they are my foundation. Now its time to build my house. I'm going to need some help. Chris and I have some pretty ambitious plans. Getting jobs in a new city, buying a home, building a small business and, maybe, even throwing a little sparrow into the mix.

I want this blog to be a way for me to access all that positive energy out there. Its a reciprocal relationship between you and I that I'm going to rely on for good advice, thoughtful commentary and support along the way. You, can count on me for a true story and a passion for food and life that I can't wait to share.

I'm off to feed the bird. Stay tuned...

Fried Fish

2010-04-21T19:34:00.000-07:00

It's 10:30... Closing in on my bedtime but I had to document my first foray into the world of deep fry.

It all started with cod from Saturdays market. I had two perfect fillets left over after I made the soup a few days ago so I froze them. I'm not the best freezer. I feel like there must be some trick to it. Freezer burn is my arch enemy but I took my chance once again and carefully bagged those fillets in hopes they'd be there for me when I needed them.

This morning I pulled them out and miraculously they defrosted perfectly. I was off to a good start so I decided to try my luck at a technique that has always intimidated me. Deep frying.

There are a few reasons I was a bit put off by the fry. There is a lot of oil involved. It just seems so wasteful. Every recipe I have ever read calls for a thermometer. I don't have one. And, there is the batter aspect which I was pretty unsure about as well.

My thought was to put together an East coast meets West coast fried "fish 'n salad". I looked up a recipe for fish 'n chips online to get an idea of the process and proceeded cautiously. First I fried potato wedges. Fried fish needs chips. I fried twice and they came out perfectly golden and crispy. So far so good. Then I put together a really green salad of escarole hearts, parsley and mint with a creamy chive dressing and oven roasted tomatoes.

Last but not least, I dredged my seasoned fish in a bit of flour, then in beer batter and dropped them into the oil. I kept a close eye and adjusted the heat a bit when it appeared things were frying to quickly. Beyond that there's really not much to it. I'm not sure what I was so worried about. The fish turned out great! Super crispy on the outside and perfectly moist and flaky inside. I put those yummy little golden nuggets on top of the salad thrilled that I had conquered my fears.

I know it probably doesn't seem like much but a small success in the kitchen is always so encouraging. It really did make my day know that I learned something new and executed it correctly.

What's for Dinner

2010-04-19T12:18:00.000-07:00

Tonight my mom has a friend coming to dinner. I love trying to come up with a meal using only what I've got in the fridge. Waste not, want not. It's Monday and this task is not so tough as we just went to the market on Saturday and have still got quite a bit of yummy food to nosh our way through. Talk to me in three or four days and see if I can still come up with something given the little I've got left.

I've decided to make tarragon roast chicken with braised baby beet greens. They are the most picture perfect little leaves. All green with dark red veins running through. I almost hate to cook them 'cause they are just so pretty. Because our chicken is on the small side, I'm gonna include a citrus risotto with goat cheese as well.

The cool thing is we've got everything we need right here in our little kitchen. Even cooler, we'll be using up a few things that have been hanging around a bit too long, like a couple of mineola tangerines, tarragon and a package of goat cheese.

So, that's the menu. Chris and I are gonna try to document the process in a little step by step photo shoot. Fingers crossed. If it turns out, we'll give posting it a whirl as well.

Fish Soup

2010-04-17T13:55:00.000-07:00

I'm making fish soup.

It's a cold, drizzly, dreary Spring Saturday and my mother, aunt Claire and I drove to the market this morning to gather some fresh, local bits and bites for the week. Of course, I plucked spring garlic and pea shoots from the first farmer who had them. They are staples this time of year and I will eat them every which way until they are gone. In addition I picked up a lovely fresh chicken, eggs and bacon, huge bags of spinach and beet greens, a loaf of perfectly baked bread and fresh mussels and cod. Enter fish soup.

Two days ago Chris and I were in Somerville MA touring about and our friend, Meaghan, took us into a little specialty shop in Union Square. They were carrying a particularly eye catching, aka well marketed, brand of fish and lobster broth that I bought to try. Now, I am a huge fan of making your own anything and normally I wouldn't have bothered. But, I read the label and was pleasantly surprised to see that the ten or so ingredients listed were all totally identifiable and all things I would use in my own stock had I the time or inclination to make it. Sold.

At first I thought risotto, but the beautiful mussels and cod I bought this morning were clamoring for a soup. Maybe its the day. It really is so raw out. I started my soup three hours ago with the bacon. I added some leeks, celery and green garlic. I'm a sucker for fresh herbs so in addition there was a little bay, thyme and oregano. I chopped carrots and potatoes into nice little cubes. I washed spinach and prepared a chive butter for the griddled bread that will accompany each bowl. A bit of red wine, the fish broth and some diced, canned San Marzano tomatoes and it's simmering. It smells great.

So here I am, its 5:00pm, not time to eat yet. I've got the fish ready to go in the fridge, the bread sliced and the soup on the stove on hold until... later when everyone else is ready to eat. I am so impatient. I want to eat it now. Even though I know it will taste better later and that then I'll be able to enjoy it with my family, I still want it now.

This happens a lot when I cook. I love the process. I love getting everything ready, filling little bowls with carefully chopped this and that and then putting it all together to create something delicious (most of the time). Its just when I get to the end, I cant wait to finish. I want to put it on a plate and taste it to make sure its good. I feel a bit crazy about this but, I'm sitting here right now wishing I were devouring that soup. So, wish me luck. Neither mom or Chris is ready for dinner yet. I'm just about finished with this blog. It has been my one and only distraction.

Later? Maybe.

Working Hard

2010-04-13T15:09:00.000-07:00

Well, jobless is sometimes productive...

I've spent a couple of days organizing myself. When you have a job, a lot of to-dos disappear into the "I worked hard today. I'll do that tomorrow." mindset. My current status does not allow for that kind of excuse. My yield is not in dollars and cents, so all of those to-dos have to count for something.

Anyway, I've got some new systems in place that I plan to use well into the future. Keeping track of recipes and recipe ideas has always been something I have done half-assed. I've got a couple of ragged journals and that's about it. Despite my lack of love for all things technological, I realize that if I want to be more organized I need to get into the habit of recording the recipes digitally. Paper is so in the past.

There are a million and one programs out there for this specific chore, but my husband suggested I use a program called Evernote. You can use it for keeping track of lots of different things; ideas, interesting articles you read, photos. Basically, an easy way of taking notes and keeping them online. It's pretty flexible, it's free and, for now, it's what I'm using.

So far so good. I've got a bunch of recipes entered using a system for cataloging that works for me. It feels good.

Pawtucket Market

2010-04-11T09:59:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the gap in posts. I have every intention to update this blog as regularly as possible. We've been 'sorting it out' as they say. Living rent free in your mothers basement, with no job and very little responsibility might seem like a dream to some, but for Chris and I it is a bit of a challenge.

We moved back East from San Francisco, in part, because we felt removed and out of touch with our families but we did not realize how independent we had become over the years. Our life out West was our own. We underestimated what our responsibility to our families would be once we eliminated our 3000 mile buffer zone. There was a lot that went on day to day that, thankfully, got lost in distance and time changes. I'm sure that most of this minutia is exaggerated because we are not in our own space, and once we are on our own things will not seem so intense. This whole life change is a learning experience for me and right now I'm trying my best to soak up all that I can, as fast as I can, in order to adapt.

On a less personal and much more fun note, I spent yesterday morning at the Pawtucket Farmers Market. I drove about an hour to a big, industrial, brick building that had been re-purposed to house artists studios along with the Saturday market throughout the winter months. I have been craving green garlic and pea shoots. They are a sure sign of Spring at the Ferry Building in SF and I was hopeful that, although Spring has just barely sprung here, I might find these simple pleasures at this market.

The main hall where the vendors set up their tables had high ceilings and brick walls along with white wash beams that made it fresh and new. The wood floor was weather worn but polished and creaky beneath my feet. I arrived too early to make any purchases so I wandered slowly through the space eying each stall as vendors set out their goods. There were farms with beautiful pastel eggs and tons of baby salad greens. There was a man with fresh fish and shellfish that looked like it had just been plucked from the icy Atlantic. Poultry and meat, multiple varieties of apples, root veggies, winter greens and perfect looking baked goods all tempted me.

At exactly 11am the bell rang signaling the opening of the market. Quite a few folks had been strolling around early on and within a short period of time the hall was bustling. There was a jug band to enhance the warm and lively scene. Children with fresh food in their hands and mouths jiggled and danced. I watched and longed for my own market so far away, thankful that this one was here.

I found pea shoots right off the bat. The green garlic was a bit harder to locate, but eventually I found that too. The look, smell and taste is so indicative of the season. It is grassy green and has a light fragrance, a savory version of the soft scent of spring flower buds. The flavor is bright but not as intense as mature garlic bulbs. It reflects the newness of the season and the warming changes in the weather before the intensity of the summer sun sets in. ...BTW, I just spent five minutes googling the 'smell of garlic' so I could be more precise. Not much on the "interweb" to clarify. If anyone has got any specific descriptors I'd love to hear them.

In addition, I found kale flowers to use as salad garnish, downed a delicious bottle of fresh cider before I even made my way out of the building and found a local cheese company, Narragansett Creamery selling the most rustic, perfectly smelly, sharp and creamy Gouda-like cheese. Couldn't resist!

All in all, my morning was buoying. In the midst of so many adjustments it lifted my spirits to fall back into an old and familiar pattern, the Saturday market.

Direction?

2010-04-05T12:59:00.000-07:00

I realized today that the beginning of this chronicle is going to be a bit 'food' sparse as I'm just starting that learning process here in the East. Eventually, I want this blog to be more about food than me. I hope, as I put one foot in front of the next on this new/old coast, that my life will become wrapped up in all things edible and the amazing people who grow, breed, cook, sell and eat the best of what this environment has to offer.

I spent my day hanging out with my husband's family at their home in Cape Cod. It was great to catch up but I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself. It's been over two months since I had a job. Chris has got freelance work to keep him busy and all I've got is my "research". Where are we going to live and work? Where could we hope to open our own small business in a couple of years? I spend hours online looking at real estate in different cities and checking out restaurants and the "food scene" in communities we are interested in.

I'm excited about the possibilities but I miss a routine. I miss making money and not feeling guilty about spending it. I miss learning and interacting on the fly. I miss having my own home and, most of all, my own kitchen. I do appreciate that this time of transition is necessary in the life change we have implemented. I know that soon I'll have a job and, probably, wish I had more time off. Hopefully, I'll have a little money too. I envision cooking in my own kitchen in a home that we own and, down the line, I see our own small cafe thriving in some warm, thoughtful community.

At the moment though, I'm feeling a bit impatient and discouraged. I'm eager for the next step in this endeavor and waiting for something to point me in the right direction.

Till tomorrow,
js

Easter Dinner

2010-04-04T19:27:00.000-07:00

Quick note... I'm tired.

Food is not always meant to be the star. Sometimes a simple meal is just that. It allows for a conversation beyond what's on the plate. It brings us together and allows us to enjoy one another.

js

In the Beginning

2010-04-03T15:04:00.000-07:00

I'm just gonna start writing... I've been thinking about this blog for quite a while. I haven't got a profile nor do I have a grand idea about what this whole thing might entail, but I'm gonna start right here.
Today was beautiful. The birds are chirping, there are crocus and daffodils popping up in every random spot. It is my first Spring on the East Coast in ten years. Everything I took for granted growing up here is now a gift.
We've been delayed... My husband and I were scheduled to head to the Cape today to join his family for Easter but he had to work. I spent my day cleaning my mothers house and our car, doing laundry, running errands and attending to our dog Oscar. I have been putting together "dinner" (not so traditional, just a home made bite and an excuse to touch base with each other for a few minutes) for Chris for the last hour. He's been computing for two days straight. No time for a fancy meal. I'll use what I've got.
In the refrigerator there is exactly one eggplant, a bag of carrots, a small head of broccoli and some fresh herbs that need to be eaten before we depart for Cape Cod tomorrow. This is my favorite thing to do. I feel so thrifty using up the last of the last in the fridge. It takes a minute, but I decide on a roasted vegetable salad. I take my time, browning the eggplant while the oven gets hot enough to roast the carrots. My idea is to get all the veg cooked, toss them with a vinaigrette and finish with mint and parsley. Along the way I decide to add some chopped castelvetrano olives into the mix too.
All this brings me to... my first blog entry. The salad turned out yummy. I'm biased, I know. But, that's the thing about cooking. You put all this time and energy, or maybe just a little time and energy, and then something actually works out. It makes my day. It inspires me and gives me courage to try something a bit more intimidating. Like writing.
So, for now, this is it. I wanted an informal beginning to what I hope will be an incentive to put my random thoughts into words. Now that I've got this down, I have to continue. Wish me luck and let me know what you think every once in a while.
js