the FoodSavant

Double Yolks Squared~!!

2011-06-12T11:51:00.000-07:00

We got gorgeous brown eggs from the Ventura Farmers' Market this Saturday as we do most weekends. We were in a hurry between my photoshoots and Chris's music gigs so we divided our duties and Chris picked up eggs and blood oranges while I searched for boysenberries, apricots and spikey artichokes. Today, (Sunday), morning when I lifted the dozen I thought, "Wow, these are heavy!" then when I opened the carton I noticed they were unusually large and lovely. Chris does have a good eye for value...

When I went to crack the first egg, two yolks tumbled out. Remarkable, but I have had this happen once before in my life. Then, when I cracked the second and peered inside, there was a yolk in each half of the shell. Naturally, I stopped what I was doing and went to get my camera all the while tripping over the dog and having the yolks sliding around in the tiny bowl.

According to one article, finding a double-yolked egg is a less than .01% chance. However, this article also states that because these eggs are also larger, they are more likely to be grouped together. I have 10 eggs left from this dozen and am curious what will happen! but not ready to use them quite yet so not cracking.

Some sources say double-yolked eggs portend pregnancy or a marriage that will happen because of a pregnancy. Others believe it can mean the birth of twins or a windfall or death.

Have you found a double-yolked egg? I hope I get that windfall soon so I can take care of my twins and newly wed husband who needs counseling after being forced to the alter with a shotgun...

Agave Maria's striving for a unique concept

2011-06-02T10:50:00.000-07:00

Photos by DK Crawford and Chris Jensen © 2011

As printed in The VC Reporter

Agave Maria’s
Restaurant & Cantina
106 S. Montgomery St.
Ojai
646-6353
$4.95-26.95

I’d been dying to eat at the oh-so-cleverly named Agave Maria’s since it opened about a month ago. Owned by powerhouse Mary Trudeau, who brought with her one of the chefs from Rainbow Bridge, Agave Maria’s mission (as stated on its website) is to feature fresh, wholesome ingredients.

When we arrived at 5:45 p.m., the patio was alive with voices and children running around the fountain. Festive friends of mine were there, enjoying dinner. We followed their ebullient lead and ordered “Pixie”rita Margaritas made from local Ojai tangerine juice and Azul silver tequila.

“Look at the tequila list in the back of the menu — it reads like a list of Saints!” exclaimed one of them. Indeed, there are at least 40 offerings of sipping tequilas, including three organic choices from Casa Noble and a Platinum Jose Cuervo.

We’d arrived hungry, so I immediately ordered an appetizer. The menu has mostly classic Mexican dishes with a few twists. When I asked the waitress for recommendations, she confessed she hadn’t tasted anything on the menu but then said certain items looked good. We ordered the nachos grande with shredded beef and asked for another menu as we’d only received one.

Meanwhile, our friends insisted we taste their carne asada plate and chile relleno. The asada was tender with a deep, black charred flavor. The relleno was a fresh spicy chile with a medium-thick batter on it, delicious. They left shortly afterward, thrilled, and swore they’d return.

Our final dining companion arrived and we tried to order a drink for her. But the first person to appear at our table couldn’t take drink orders and the waitress, along with the menus we’d tried to secure, couldn’t be found.

I passed my friend the house-made corn chips and salsa. “Hmm,” she pondered after a few bites. I took a bite and found the salsa unusual; it was thick, more like tomato paste.

Our piled-high nachos arrived on a large oval plate. A layer of impenetrable cheese sat on top of the nachos but we found success in removing the chips from the sides of the dish and sort of breaking off parts of the cheese and meat mixture. There were refried beans and shredded beef, a large scoop of sour cream and guacamole, and a hint of pico de gallo. The dish was huge and could easily be an appetizer for six if you didn’t want to fill up before dinner.

There was a steady stream of customers filtering in the entire evening. Other than the outside patio, there is a covered area with cantaloupe walls and a turquoise exposed-beam ceiling that has a cozy fireplace, couches and some tables. I poked my head into the bar and dining room to find a buzzing hive of activity. I started to understand why our waitress disappeared; this new Ojai hotspot appeared understaffed, especially for a Friday evening.

I started with perhaps one of the most unusual dishes on the menu — the shrimp with coconut and lime especial. It was a saffron-hued, gorgeous plate of rice circled by medium-sized prawns with their tails still on. It was delicious and creamy with a hint of heat and tasted exactly like Thai red curry. It wasn’t what I was expecting as a special at a Mexican restaurant but it was quite tasty and everything was cooked perfectly.

I next tasted the cheese enchilada. It also had plenty of cheese on top and was surrounded by a deep red tomato sauce. My first bite, I got the creamy cheese on the inside, the corn flavor of the tortilla and a bitter aftertaste from the tomato sauce as though it had been cooked in black iron or made with seeds.

Next, I sampled my friend’s Pacific red snapper ceviche made with lemon, onions, cilantro, cucumbers, organic tomatoes and diced jalapeños.
The first sensation I noticed was that the fish was pungent as it passed under my nose. The second flavor I got was the pronounced citrus. I could barely taste the fish and it was cut into small pieces that made it texturally disappear.

Finally, we tried the asada salad with paprika dressing. It was the same meat I’d tried earlier on my friend’s plate but it was sliced on a bed of romaine, carrots, tomatoes and jicama. The paprika dressing was sweet with a hint of smoky paprika. It kind of reminded me of French dressing with a kick. The salad had the same ingredients as the dinner salad that accompanied the entrees, only a larger version. I wanted it to have more oomph rather than be the bigger brother of what someone received earlier before his meal. The meat was good and the ingredients were fresh. All the basic components were there but the salad didn’t sing.

For dessert, there were churros and leche cake but the waitress didn’t recommend them. I so appreciate honesty from a waitress but I ultimately felt discouraged because, first, she didn’t know the menu; and, then, what she did know, she didn’t care for.

Agave Maria’s has a beautiful, revitalized environment, perfect location and a brilliant concept. Who wouldn’t want to taste fresh, wholesome Mexican food? I ultimately hope it takes the amazing ingredients found in Ojai to create dishes with more nuance and intrigue, encourages the servers to taste them, and has more staff available on weekends.

Cake!! ~lust t t t~

2011-05-05T20:04:00.000-07:00

My beautiful foodie girlfriends went a huntin' and a peckin' in Los Angeles the other day. I could not make it and was very sad but they brought home a lifetime of cake from Sweet Lady Jane on Melrose.

"Be here at 2 and bring your camera, you won't be sorry"... that was the entire message. I showed up at 2, played for a moment or two and came out with some fun photos.

What's your favorite? Enjoy!!

p.s. please try to refrain from licking the screen...

Seeds of Change Free Seeds Have Arrived!!

2011-04-11T11:32:00.000-07:00

There can be no other occupation like gardening in which, if you were to creep up behind someone at their work, you would find them smiling. ~Mirabel Osler

They're Here! They're Here!! Today my 25 free packets of organic seeds from Seeds of Change Arrived. Twelve days I wrote a blog entry about Seeds of Change giving away free organic seeds through their Sowing the Millions Project. It took 5 minutes for me enter my information and pay $4 for shipping and today they arrived, just like magic! As of today the program is closed because they gave away 1 MILLION seeds!! If anyone else reading this received free seeds, please email me what you got and let's keep up on what you do with them!

I plan on planting some and giving away others. I'd love to hear the list of what you got and see images of the seeds growing and being harvested.

My envelope included hermetically sealed (good for 2 years) certified organic packets of:
2 Zeolights Calendula (medicinal)
Bronze Arrow Lettuce (rare/heirloom)
Purira Chile (extreme heat, off the scoville scale)
Santiam Tomato
Moneymaker Tomato
False Blue Indigo (heirloom)
Bandit Leek
Black Krim Tomato
Carmona Red Lettuce (scrumptious big butterhead)
Misato Rose Radish (spicy late sudden radish)
Evening Stock (fill the evening air with heady, intoxicating fragrance)
Green Glaze Collards (heirloom) (known as Greasy Greens by southerners)
Brune D'Hiver Lettuce (heirloom) (cold hardy)
Integrata de Wild Lettuce (wild looking, cold weather)
Jericho Lettuce (bred in the hot desert of Israel -- bold resistant)
Sunrise Cosmos (can be used as companion to corn to deter earwigs)
Apricotia Poppy (Spanish orange, texture of crumpled velvet)
Galilee LIlac Double Larkspur (rare) (fully doubled flowers)
Pineapple Tomato (huge yellow beefsteak w red streaks, low acid)
Merlot Lettuce (dark maroon leaves, high antioxidant anthocyanins)
Cinnamon Mexican Spice Basil (finest tea basil and attracts pollinators)
Louisiana Green Velvet Okra (smooth, ribless pods)
Early Palla Rossa Radicchio (red chicory, distinctive flavor -- served raw or wilted)
Jerusalem Sunrise Lemon Sunflower (lemony yellow petals)

Free Organic Seeds from Seeds of Change!!

2011-03-31T10:43:00.001-07:00

There can be no other occupation like gardening in which, if you were to creep up behind someone at their work, you would find them smiling. ~Mirabel Osler

What a remarkably beautiful opportunity! Seeds of Change has launched the Sowing the Millions Project and you can get 25 packs of certified organic seeds free!! (you pay shipping) or 75 packets if you are an organization just by signing up. For every seed request, they are also giving matching donations to the American Horticultural Society.

Click here to sign up and get planting! p.s., if you send me photos of your babies I'll be happy to do some on-going posts of all the progress!

Gordon Ramsay's "Kitchen Nightmares" Looking to feature a Ventura County Restaurant

2011-03-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

I just received an email from Gordon Ramsay's "Kitchen Nightmares". They are interested in helping revamp a local restaurant and asked if I'd blog about it. Well, sure I will!

Do I believe quick-fix reality shows can save restaurants? Mmmm maybe? They are looking both for volunteer restaurants and for nominations. Who in Ventura County do you think should be visited by Gordon Ramsay?

In my opinion as a foodie, gardener, writer and critic, I believe we have some of the most amazing resources for food here possible in Ventura County and yet? I am not tremendously excited about going out to eat on the whole. I want to see someone have the opportunity to showcase the strengths of what Ventura County has to offer in a new, fresh way. I believe if the show focused on that it could be phenomenal. Particularly so if they really highlight local produce and cuisine and helped a restaurant that was ready have a whole new life. Here is the info they sent...

NOW CASTING!

FOX's hit show "KITCHEN NIGHTMARES"
wants to hear from Los Angeles!

Are you trying to make some green,
but still running in the red?

Is your food not the best it should be?

Or maybe you have a great location,
but it doesn’t seem to bring in many customers?

Call or Email for Information:
Toll Free: 866-226-2226
KitchenNightmares2011@yahoo.com

Download application or apply online at:
www.theconlincompany.com

and for nominations??

Gordon Ramsay needs your help finding his next
Kitchen Nightmare!

Has your favorite restaurant gone bad? Have you tried a new eatery only to discover it doesn't cut the mustard? If so, we need your nomination! FOX's hit show, Kitchen Nightmares is currently searching for new restaurants to be featured in the upcoming season. If you know of a restaurant that desperately needs expert guidance, we want to know about it! Send us the restaurant's name, location and a brief description why you think Gordon Ramsay should take over.

e-mail us at:
KitchenNightmares2011@yahoo.com
or
call the hotline with restaurant info at 1-866-226-2226.

Nature protects its precious new growth, do you?

2011-03-14T12:59:00.000-07:00

"This is the hardest of all: to close the open hand out of love, and keep modest as a giver."
Friedrich Nietzsche

Today on my walk I was struck by the beauty of these cactus blossoms and then by the volume of spikes surround them. I thought all the way home about why cacti have spikes. What exactly are they protecting? Why don't we have spikes?

From researching I learned that the stem and crown of the cactus is its most vulnerable part. It's responsible for moving, storing and processing water and all of its photosynthetic actions used to convert light into food. The flowers of cacti are how they reproduce and imperative to their growth and survival.

On my walk, I kept thinking about the little budding ideas I have in my mind and about how part of me wants to share them with everyone. I have this desire to give away my very best treasures to the world almost even before I can understand them. Sometimes I give them to benign creatures who give them back or advise me to hold onto them and help me grow them. Other times I've given my precious infant concepts to people who put a cloak of negativity around them before they are even fully formed that often impairs or diseases them before they have a chance to produce. Have you determined who in your world is "safe" to share ideas with and who continually damps them down?

If, like a cactus blossom, your budding ideas are imperative to your survival and what you produce in the world, are you careful to guard who you share them with and when? It's time to find your safe people. God did not give us spikes to protect our thoughts and new treasures but he did give us boundaries. I am learning about how to use boundaries kindly, not as a defense against others but more as an offense to allow budding life to grow.

The cactus flower also requires bats and birds to help its pollen move from one part of the plant to another to fully fertilize. So we too at times need helpful others to move our ideas forward. Part of the wisdom I'm trying to learn is when to keep psychological spikes around my vulnerable new growth and when to let others in.

The cactus spikes protect against predators who want to eat its stem and flowers and sabotage its growth but they allow birds and bats to still seek its nectar. Holding our ideas firmly but with an openness that doesn't suffocate and allows the right others in, is a balance. But if we glean from nature, few plants or animals are completely defenseless. Nor are we meant to be.

When you have new ideas, picture the cactus then challenge yourself to become the best protector and grower you can. Just because we weren't given spikes doesn't mean we aren't meant to foster our creative growth. I believe humans were given choices and boundaries, rather than spikes so we'll learn to be discerning.

Some believe you should greet life with a closed fist and protect and fight and hold tight to what's yours, others meet life with an open palm, defenseless, unprotected and yielding to anyone or thing that comes along. There is a time for both, but I offer up the suggestion of the visual of spines, more like a half-open hand that can both protect and be open to the world and pollinators at the right moment.

Rain Drops on Calla Lillies

2011-03-05T18:19:00.000-08:00

Not everything is about food, right? Is that possible?

Calla Lilies are NOT edible, in fact they are toxic if you do.

They are both a symbol of new life as they multiply and bloom prolifically, and purity if they are white and weddings and death because they also denote resurrection. Whew, what a dual flower!

After the recent rains, I couldn't help but photograph their simple beauty enhanced by raindrops. If I were to pick what they mean? I'd consider virility and strength. When you look at them, what do they make you think of?

It's HIP to be vegan

2011-03-04T15:28:00.000-08:00

Originally printed in the VC Reporter

HIP – A Vegetarian Joint
928 E. Ojai Ave
Ojai
646-1750
www.HipVeganCafe.com
$4.25-12.95

The stars have aligned and a new vegan restaurant has opened its heart chakra and doors to Ojai. HIP is led by Nancy Samuel, a seasoned vegetarian restaurateur/chef (this is her sixth), in the guise of a tiny yogini with a ready smile and serious passion for eating vegan.

HIP is tucked away in the back of what was formerly Treasure Beach Café’s courtyard. Outside is a Zen courtyard anchored with a Buddha statue and plants. Inside are vibrant hues of fire-truck red and sunshine-yellow flowered tabletops. A chalkboard to the right of the counter shows daily specials. Ours was Russian veggie borscht soup and Indian curry quiche. Also featured were raw fudge brownies, cheesecake and chocolates or baked pear crisp or carrot cake.

We sat down with the menus for a moment to ponder our choices. A woman came in to report she’d eaten lunch there two days that week, and the soups she had were the best in years. She said they were so busy she’d waited to return and tell them during a lull — naturally, that made us order the borscht.

We also chose the extremely raw salad, a Hip Hip Hooraw wrap and the tostada. The menu also features a tempeh burger, bake tamari-ginger tofu sandwich and seitan barbecue as well as other wraps, Mexican dishes, salads and sandwiches. To drink, there are fresh juices, kombucha, kevita and date shakes made with delicious homemade cashew milk. (We tasted a sip of the milk alone.)

Our fuchsia bowl of borscht arrived with earthy steam rising from it.

The first bite of the clear scarlet liquid revealed thin slices of carrots, beets and dill with hints of cayenne. It was a pleasure to taste, and a gentleman having a bowl next to us remarked that he thought he’d miss sour cream in it but it was perfect without.

Next, our extremely raw salad arrived.

It was a large bowl loaded with marinated greens like collards, sea veggies, lettuces, slices of avocado, sprouts and a seed pâté. On top were slices of raw, dehydrated onion crisps. The dressing choices were tahini poppy seed, miso ginger and the house vinaigrette.

The marinated greens were divine. I found myself not wanting to add any dressing to them, and the avocado and the sea veggies were abundant with their distinct flavors. But I did dress the lettuces and surprised myself with which dressing I preferred. I thought the tahini would be savory but it was sweeter, and I imagined the miso ginger to be lightly sweet but it was savory. The vinaigrette, which didn’t appeal to me when described, turned out to be this creamy, delicate, green concoction with parsley, onion and balsamic that I could not stop eating.

Our Hip Hip Hooraw wrap arrived, and it looked like some sort of Dr. Seuss caterpillar.If you’ve ever tried to wrap something in a collard leaf you’d know they splinter and break in odd places. It was organic and fun both to look at and to try to wrangle into my mouth.

Inside the delicious fresh collard leaves was a spicy jalapeno pâté, guacamole, lettuce mix and sprouts. I’d been warned the jalapeno pâté might be spicy. (It varies.) My first five crunchy bites were heaven then heat started to grow inside my mouth. These were particularly warm jalapenos and I loved the flavors and crunch of the wrap but next time I’d either substitute the seed pâté, or ask to have half jalapeno, half seed pâté on my wrap. In fairness, they’d recommended I have the seed if I had any questions about spiciness, but I’d wanted to try it. Smartly, it was served with cooling cucumber slices that I savored between bites.

Our tostada arrived and I deemed it “couture vegan.” It had layers of salsa, grated beet, deep-green and purple lettuces, black beans, brown rice and a frilly topping of sprouts, and reminded me of a fancy hat.
First bite, I loved with its filling warmth. We’d elected to add Daiya mozzarella (a vegan cheese made from tapioca and pea protein), and it added a luscious creamy element. The salsa was zesty, the black beans, warm and soupy.

All our plates were large portions; you won’t go away hungry. And patrons are encouraged to bring their own to-go and take-out containers.

We had to sample a sweet. I’m not a huge cheesecake fan but when I heard it’s made from coconut oil, I was intrigued. Just before our cheesecake arrived, a woman came in asking about the coconut pie. “This is my third slice,” she sheepishly admitted. Alas, the pie had suffered a minor accident in the kitchen so they hadn’t put it out, but as it was still delightfully edible, they acquiesced. I begged to have a taste too.

The coconut pie was fluffy and creamy, and I could taste the agave sweetener in it, perhaps a bit too much for my preference? But my companion and the coconut pie-loving lady lapped it up with sighs and almost moans. I, meanwhile, had moments of joy eating the lightly limey, denser, coconut cheesecake.

HIP appears to have brought something to downtown Ojai that it desperately desired — I’ve heard tales from one famous Ojai songstress of a perpetual line coming out of its door. Thankfully, at 2:30, we missed the crowd. The service and staff were very helpful, the random, funky music choices were uplifting; and perhaps, most importantly, though we walked out full, we felt good, truly the hallmark of healthy, livening food.

Vegetables Need Beauty Shots Too -- Romanesco

2011-02-17T21:37:00.000-08:00

I've been searching for romanesco (Roman Cauliflower), an entire year, wanting to photograph and eat it! I heard last year it made a showing at the Oxnard Farmers' Market then :::poof:::: it was gone!

This year, while at The Local Cafe, I overheard farmer Elizabeth of Rio Gozo Farm say that they had romanesco! I begged, pleaded and threatened to pillage her field and she finally agreed to let me shoot a few. I found these fractaled, complex veggies so inspiring! Tonight I couldn't help but post the first photo -- a simple beauty shot.

All the organic produce I've seen from Rio Gozo is stunning and ultimately yes, tasty too. Their CSA folks are so very lucky!

Tonight the romanesco had to be eaten. I steamed it, added a bit of butter, lemon, salt and pepper to it and tossed them lightly and ohhhhhhhh they were delicious. Sadly though, it looks like I'll have to wait another entire year to take more photographs of them but I have several other types of images of them I"ll be adding.

Thanks Johnny and Elizabeth for letting me shoot your babies!

Beacon Coffee Company and Rio Gozo Farm CSA paired up at Lynn Okun's Art Barn for a coffee tasting

2011-02-12T17:27:00.000-08:00

Beacon Coffee Company coffee samples

There's a new artisan micro-roaster, coffee company that just might change the way we in Ventura County savor a cup of java. Beacon Coffee Company, headed by John Wheir, located on Olivas Park Drive is taking beans to a new level.

French presses of coffee to sample and chocolates

I got the chance to meet John and sample two of his roasts, one Honduran and an organic Nicuraguan roast, last week at Lynn Okun's Art Barn in downtown Ventura. She was hosting the weekly pickup for CSA members of Rio Gozo organic farm in Ojai. Newlywed farmers Johnny Fonteyn and his bride Elizabeth,
Elizabeth of Rio Gozo Farm

have been introducing their members to value-added options to include along with their weekly vegetables like preserves and yes, delicious, locally-roasted coffee.

This beautiful, sunny day, we sat and sipped Beacon coffee's carefully roasted beans and nibbled on a sugar-crusted homemade French toast in a black-iron skillet provided by hostess with the mostest, Lynn
A skillet of crystalized French toast

Lynn Okun, our hostess

and unique chocolates Elizabeth brought. As we sat, CSA members filtered in to pick up their boxes of rainbow-hued bright lights chard, perfect baby collards, celery, several lettuces, fennel, cilantro, carrots and broccoli and savor a cup or two.
A few of the veggies from Rio Gozo Farm's CSA box

Elizabeth explained what each vegetable was and members had the chance to talk about how to prepare them as they savored their warm coffee.

Elizabeth and Johnny of Rio Gozo Farm talking to a CSA member

John Wheir also was available to answer copious questions about fair-trade, different ways of roasting and the flavors he's enhanced in each bean.

John Wheir of Beacon Coffee, illuminating conversation on a sun-streaked day

H elaborated on his delicate methods of roasting that enhance but don't hide the bean's flavors. He ultimately wants people to be able to identify the coffee's country of origin by taste alone and to do tastings where people can travel the world with cups of java as their vehicle.

What an incredibly cozy Ventura afternoon filled with foodies, farmers, artists and warm comforting coffee. I ended the afternoon by walking Lynn's gardens and seeing her new sculptures and yes, the pizza oven she built out of earth that I covet.

Lynn Okun's "Loven" pizza oven made of earth

Perhaps soon we'll get together a group to make gourmet pizzas under the stars.

Get to the Heart of the Matter; He said, She said, -- Tale of the J'anniversary Cherimoya

2011-01-11T12:57:00.000-08:00

Approximately three years ago I met Chris and we started dating. I say approximately because there has always been the question of what day is our actual anniversary...When we first went out? when we first kissed? when we declared we'd see no others?

To further compliKate® matters, when writing an article for Edible Ojai about southern food traditions for New Year's Day, I put the wrong date entirely as our anniversary. Now Chris doesn't remember it at all and I remember what may or may not be the right date only sporadically. This year when I went along shopping and thinking of anniversaries and he didn't well I just decided until we clarify it for good, our anniversary will span the entire month of January so...Happy J'anniversary Honey!

This year I started our J'anniversary by making eggnog chocolate chip cookies but as usual, I adulterated the recipe and by using too much graham flour they tasted well, very healthy and very very rich between it and the nog. So I also went shopping at our local farmers' market and found a beautiful small coffee cake and a gorgeous heart-shaped cherimoya (which some spell cheramoya, I'm not sure which is right.)

We let it ripen for a few days and right before eating it Chris reminded me we should photograph it. We both pulled out our Verizon Droid phones and started to play. By the time we couldn't take it anymore and really wanted to eat it, we called it quits and then each sat across from one another at the dining room table staring down at our Droids, manipulating our chosen image (I know, romantic, huh? damn artists), while taking delicious bites of our bananay-pineapply, soft, luscious fruit. Oh my! it was incredible.

After spending time reading about cherimoya and learning it originated in Peru, grows in very few climates and has to be hand-pollinated, I learned it was even more special. We've saved the seeds from the heart-shaped "love cherimoya" and hope to grow a tree from the seeds. one blogger describes the fruit as "Lumpy, costly, but the flavor turns some people rhapsodic!"

Cherimoya season in California is from January to May in California, so keep an eye out at the markets for them. For those of you back in Louisiana and other places, I found an exotic fruit club that will deliver them to your door. :)

I also discovered several recipes for cherimoya souffles, parfaits, and fruit salad that I may try if I one day have an abundance but for now it's almost impossible to not simply cut and eat them with a spoon!

Meanwhile, back to the he said/she said part of the program. Here are the photos Chris and I came up with on a lark. Using basically the same phone, flash and fruit and then later, perhaps a couple of photoshop adjustments...We each staged our own shots but then as always happens had the collaborative help of the other but when it comes to which photo we chose and what we did with them, that's all in the chromosomes and personalities baby...(I think his looks a bit like a Lachapelle.

(the photo at the top is one I did afterward when writing this blog, nothing to do with our original j'anniversary photos.)

Enjoy

He said:

She said:

Island food and décor in Oak View; next stop, Big Buddha Lounge

2011-01-10T20:43:00.000-08:00

*Photos by Chris Jensen
Originally published in the VC Reporter 12/30/2010

Big Buddha Lounge
530 Ventura Ave.
Oak View
$2-$10

Driving up to Big Buddha Lounge in Oak View felt almost illicit. I was simultaneously flooded with memories of the Hilltop Bar that previously occupied its building since 1945, and terribly curious about the huge black Buddha head by the front door. It felt exhilarating to drive to Oak View as a destination to visit this new, chic, furniture-lounge meets restaurant, wine-and-beer-bar experience.

Inside, the lounge is island exotic, filled to the brim with Balinese furniture, wooden lounges with throw pillows and a variety of chairs and tables. A bar to the right features carved wooden barstools shaped like large cupped hands. The walls are hues of green, and twig ball pendant lamps cast subdued light as surf music and blues twang over the speakers.

On pretty days you can sit on the huge porch outside that wraps around the back of the building, where the owners are planning to host a dozen or so larger music shows each year. Otherwise, smaller acts are being featured in the intimate funky interior.

All the furniture and accessories are samples of what they sell on their website, so if you are hungry or thirsty or needing furniture, or particularly if you desire all three, this might just be your lucky location.

The drink list is ever-evolving but ours featured fresh juices, including coconut water, served in the shell; wines like Pillsbury Wildchild Crop Circles Blends and Casa Baranca’s Pink Moment Blended Rosé; and a selection of beers from a variety of destinations like Thailand, Mexico, Hawaii, Tibet and Colorado. The drink menu isn’t large but it’s varied and intriguing.

Similarly, the food menu is small but fun. There are salads, flatbreads, skewers, coconut rice and one dessert.

Everything is reasonable to the point that you’ll want to try a few options and share. My favorite part of the menu is that each entree skewer comes with a different salad that complements it, so by ordering all three skewer entrees, we also got to sample all three salads, dipping sauces and coconut rice for $30, which equals about 90 percent of the menu.

Our drinks arrived and we first tried a Lhasa, the first beer allowed to be exported out of Tibet.

We both loved this all-malt lager and the art on its label, but I’ve since discovered some are boycotting it. Google if you, too, are intrigued.

We also tasted the Red Nectar Pale Ale from Paso Robles. It had a sweet, caramel/fruity scent and first note, then a strong bitter finish. Our mouths were just starting to wake up as our food arrived.

Each plate looked beautiful and simple, and the shrimp were skewered on flat pieces of sugarcane. Each dish came with a pristine mound of subtle, tender, white coconut rice sprinkled with black and white sesame seeds, a unique dipping sauce (made in-house) and a bowl of salad.

The shrimp had a chili-lime dipping sauce and was accompanied by Big Buddha’s Pacific Caesar salad, which has a wee wasabi kick to its dressing.

The four large shrimp were well-seasoned and perfectly cooked. The chili-lime sauce was sweet and tart with a slight hint of fish oil. The romaine Caesar with toasted flatbread croutons was cool and crunchy, and the wasabi presence was just enough to lightly notice.

The chicken satay skewers featured flattened grilled chunks of tender chicken and a smoky, spiced peanut sauce. The chicken was also perfectly cooked, very tender and more mildly seasoned, which gave us the excuse to use more sauce. Its Uluwatu salad (named after a Balinese temple), of fresh mixed greens, diced tomatoes, cabbage, carrots, shallots, cilantro and coconut flakes, was tossed with a sesame dressing. The light coconut sweetness and the sesame dressing gave this salad a delicate sweetness that complemented the chicken satay. This was my companion’s favorite salad.

Finally, the beef satay skewers were served with the Big Buddha salad and a teriyaki dipping sauce. In contrast to the other dishes, the beef was tough and chewy. The teriyaki sauce was delicious, and the Big Buddha salad was by far my favorite. It had fresh mixed greens, diced mango, green onion, slivers of jicama, napa cabbage and crispy noodles served with the in-house green goddess dressing, featuring avocado. It was such crunchy fun and had so many different flavors; I almost forgot the chewy beef. The tender coconut rice was very subtle and combined well with each of the dishes.

We also sampled the Pineapple Express flat bread and the Monkey Forest banana rolls as our two sweeter items. The flatbread looked intriguing – Christmas-colored triangles of red and green with hints of yellow pineapple.

It was crunchy and thin. It featured pesto, pineapple, Thai basil, cilantro, roasted red peppers, mozzarella and smoked Gouda. For me, the idea of the flavors was, on the whole, good, but the way they layered tasted sludgy. The pesto was heavy and not very flavorful and sank into the flatbread, making it dense. The smoked Gouda also lent a heavier note, and the roasted red peppers just sort of squeaked around the fresh chunks of grilled pineapple. I think this dish should be reworked.

Unfortunately, I feel the same about the official dessert of the menu — Monkey Forest banana rolls.

It was billed as banana chunks wrapped in spring rolls that are grilled and drizzled with hot chocolate. But the bananas weren’t even warm, the spring roll wrapper was just a hard shell around them with a couple of grill marks, and the cup of chocolate dipping sauce tasted like Hershey’s out of the can. Disappointing and far from what the fun decadence I imagined when I ordered.

Our meal was fun, and the adventure of driving to Oak View for the new hot destination made it an adventure. As we left, a younger crowd looking for beer was filtering in. I applaud the conceptual aspect of this furniture lounge/restaurant that is starting slow with a small, select menu, but I want that small menu to be a home run.

If they can work out the kinks and build on their strengths, it could be a little go-to getaway full of fun and ambience. I look forward to watching how the exotic future of Big Buddha and Oak View unfolds.

Pot Stickers from LooHoo's Inc Asian Comfort Food and Romance at the Wednesday Farmers' Market

2011-01-05T19:04:00.001-08:00

Today I drove down to the Wednesday Farmer's Market in our local mall parking lot. Parking was ferocious and made me glad to be driving a compact. I got out, and cruised the stalls. I like to make a loop before I decide what I want/need that day. I stopped when I came upon this:

I'd heard there were pot stickers at the market but kept missing them. Excited, I ordered a mixed dozen for $10. The lovely Cindy Liu, also a personal chef, caterer and instructor, took my order out of the ice chest, threw oil in the skillet and fired the burners. You can buy them frozen to take home and cook or she'll warm them for you there.

This is her baby, her brain-child. Usually on Farmers' Market days she also has a special, a Chinese beef soup or curry dish but today she was still creaky from the holidays and starting back slow and simple. I didn't mind. :) We talked about her facebook page, for LooHoo's Inc Asian Comfort Food.

She asked what kind of food I like, easy answer, "everything". But I admitted to having a penchant for cooking southern comfort food and/or whatever is fresh and local from our garden or the market. She admitted she loves both French cuisine and concentrating on local foods too.

She kept cooking steaming, sizzling skillets of pot stickers and I watched for a moment before wandering off to explore.

While away from pot sticker land, I pondered buying some organic local beef but my eye strayed and there I was, in front of the apple lady. I choose two Fuji's, two galas, a pink lady and a beautiful round Asian Pear. She was thrilled we were going to sample them and quizzed me on which were which so I could (hopefully) remember and report back on my findings.

Then I came upon gorgeous cherimoyas and bought a perfect heart-shaped one for my sweetie as it's our anniversary. :)

I kept walking and noticed how much beautiful citrus there was. I passed several larger vendors but was magnetically drawn to the man who had only a step ladder, (which doubled as a table), an ice chest and his smile. I bought a container of his sweet satsumas and told him he sounded like Sean Connery. Then he explained he was born in a town "26 Kilometers from Nice" in the south of France when a beautiful older woman who was listening to our conversation jumped in. I left them talking and wondered if romance was in the air?

The Spring Hill Jersey Cheese lady insisted I needed a taste of garlic herb jack, (who am I to say no?) and I considered the last, tiny bunch of kohlrabi for the day. Apparently there'd been a run on it and golden beets!

There was a gentleman selling flat breads and dips who was working his booth like a juggling octopus and literally before I could walk past him I'd stuffed down three samples, a mint garlic cheese spread, lentil spread and cilantro pesto all on spinach flat bread. The prices were all $6 for a container or piece of flat bread. The sweet jalapeno jelly and the mint garlic cheese and spinach flat bread were quite delicious but $18 for them wasn't in my future.

I stopped at Les Bles D'Or (Ojai Bakery) and picked up a $4.50 coffee cake for my sweetie and while the lady was making change a rumble happened behind her and she turned and laughed, saying "there he goes, waving again!". I had to ask and she told me this gentleman always shows up in his loud, rumbling old car each week, circles the market and waves at her. I inquired if there might be a romantic connection..at first she shrugged me off but then she smiled about the potential.

Back to Cindy Liu and her LooHoo's Inc stickers...As I picked them up, a beautiful, smartly dressed Asian woman was eating some and chatting with Cindy. I asked about taking her photo and she refused but said I could photograph her food. What a shame. She was as beautiful as the food.

As I left, I picked up some cauliflower and broccoli. While walking to my car, I saw an older gentleman with fancy-styled white hair and a black leather jacket walking toward me. As he passed, we looked at one another and my instincts said, "That's him!! the waver with the loud rumbly car!" As I got back in my car, he kept turning and staring at me, maybe because I looked suspicious myself or maybe because he was the man who drove by and honked. As he walked into the market, I wondered if our lady of Les Bles D'Or might just end up with a hot date this weekend. The man I "assumed" was Mr. Waver Flirt has quite the ride too parked right next to my car.

I put my potstickers on my dash and dashed home...

When I got home I put them on a plate, got out the chopsticks and prepared for my first bites. Cindy had taken great care to make certain the bottoms and frilly edges were crisped. The pork kimchi were my favorites and had a bit of kick. The chicken were a great, mild, meaty companion to the spicier ones and the veggie, with glass noodles packed throughout were a fascinating texture. What a blast, what a find for a special Wednesday or Saturday Farmers' Market lunch and I cannot WAIT to try some of her specials. Also SO looking forward to following up on the stories of the bread-maker and the waver and the French Sean Connery.

The mysteries of the Chinese Dumpling House

2010-11-12T14:17:00.000-08:00

Photos by Chris Jensen

Originally printed in the VC Reporter

11/11/2010

Chinese Dumpling House
575 W. Channel Islands Blvd.
Port Hueneme
985-4849
$4.25-$14.95

Neon signs compete all along the strip malls lining Channel Islands Boulevard. Blockbuster, Ralph’s, Subway, Starbucks — there are multiple chain businesses vying for attention, and then there is the Chinese Dumpling House, a unique find with a story I long to know.

What first struck me as I was ushered in and told to choose a table was the duct tape used to repair the torn seat of the vintage booths that look like something you might find in a bowling alley. Then I noticed the cracks in the walls and the threadbare carpet.

A pot of hot jasmine tea and two cups arrived along with our menus. As I filled my cup, I watched my partner scanning the pages and flipping, flipping, flipping. There were 195 items to choose from on the menu, and only six of them (including pot stickers and wontons) were listed under “dumpling.”

I was intrigued by the asparagus crab soup, crispy duck served on a lotus bun, and the walnut sliced fish. There were also a section of moo shu, another of egg foo young and 14 tofu dishes. As we considered our orders, crispy noodles arrived alongside a fuchsia sweet dipping sauce with a hot mustard daub in the center.

Going toward the bathrooms to wash my hands, I saw that a large round table’s edges were wrapped in more silver duct tape. I wondered what had happened to the table’s edges that warranted such repair? There was also a table covered in piles of beautiful, fresh green beans and a pair of scissors. There was another booth with various boxes and things piled onto it almost like storage. And the art on the walls was a mix of Mexican, Oriental, tiling and impressionistic pieces.

The bones of the restaurant and the amount of offerings on the menu made me wonder how it was in its heyday. I kept envisioning how things were when the Chinese Dumpling House opened - maybe the duct-taped tables were covered in tablecloths? I don’t know if my vision ever existed but I could tell things had shifted over the years.

When the server arrived, we tried to order the crispy duck but, sadly, it wasn’t available. In its stead we chose the chicken shu-mai dumpling, General (Tso’s) chicken, cashew shrimp, the asparagus crab soup, and the special mixed-meat egg foo young.

Our huge bowl of steaming soup arrived first, and the waitress ladled it into two smaller bowls. Its colors were gorgeous, and as the ladle swirled through the soup, its hues of daffodil-yellow yolks, flowing egg whites, crisp fresh green cut asparagus and pink crab looked like a living, moving version of Monet’s Water Lilies.

It was hot — the kind of heat that burns tongues — and did. But once it cooled, it was mellow and rich and soothing, like the type of soup that could heal a cold.

Our chicken shu-mai dumplings arrived in a tin and were ground chicken wrapped in a rice wrapper with bits of peas and carrots. They weren’t my favorite and certainly not for those watching salt in their diets. They were tender and flavorful but lacked nuance.

Our three entrees arrived shortly after our appetizer, and the General chicken filled the air with its garlicky, exotic scent. Each dish was beautifully presented, and a bowl of fluffy white rice accompanied them.

The General chicken tasted as incredible as it smelled. Each piece of chicken was lightly battered and fried so it was both crispy and tender and the sauce was intoxicating — sweet, lightly spicy and piquant.

The cashew shrimp had a thick, concentrated garlicky sauce with a strong hidden note that tasted like a fermented paste or wine, almost like a deep, rich demi-glace. The shrimp were tender and the cashews toasted, crunchy and sweet. It also had chopped zucchini and jicama that gave it crunch and diversity and ultimately lightened the heaviness of the dish.

The egg foo young special, featuring beef, pork and chicken, was unexpected. Rather than being something like an omelet stuffed with fillings, it was a pile of vegetables that had smaller, pancake-sized patties underneath.

The eggy disks were filled with vegetables and were so dense that three bites started to be too much for me. It was a heavy dish with a lighter topping that just seemed incongruous. I would happily recommend the first two entrees but I personally wouldn’t dare the egg foo young again.

The service was so helpful and kind and personable, and the prices really reasonable. This is the kind of restaurant where, when we pulled out a huge camera and flash, rather than asking us not to snap photos, the waitress cocked her hip and struck a silly pose. It’s comfortable and feels very much like a family-run business.

The mysteries remain. What were the original plans for the Chinese Dumpling House and how in the world did it get the name dumpling house when only four out of 195 offerings are actually dumplings? Let me know if you get the back-story or know its history. Meanwhile, I’ll relish in having found an excellent General (Tso’s) chicken (it’s been years), and I’m willing to bet the fresh green beans will be amazing tomorrow.

Comments from the VC Reporter

Dumpling House. Next time order the garlic green beans (an absolute must), Sesame chicken (better than candy), and the Lemon Chicken. If for some reason they are not on the menu ask anyway.

Stress Eating & Addictions: What do you reach for when the chips are down?

2010-10-24T14:35:00.000-07:00

the present...
Today I wanted to put sugar in my tea. To most that might not seem unusual but I haven't put sugar in my tea for about 6 months now. The reason I wanted to do it now is because I'm going through a very stressful time you see, my dog Noopy whom I was with when he was born, has been sick. I have been in and out of doctors offices and veterinary hospitals and so very worried about him.

This morning started off quite intense. I woke to find him curled up on the chair and as I approached I realized he was tremoring all over and highly uncomfortable. My mind started to panic and imagine all possible frightening scenarios, my adrenaline shot up and tears started to fall. Luckily, thankfully, I was able to do the very first thing I find helpful when stress is overwhelming.

I said a prayer asking for protection for both Noopy and me and then I picked up the phone to talk to my supportive friends and family. Shortly afterward Chris came over and helped me give Noopy medication and his pain subsided. As Chris left I began making my tea, feeling better in the knowledge that he would have some pain relief at least.

As it steeped, I put on laundry and started doing some basic tasks one normally does when not in an emergency state. I then went to my cup of tea and as I pulled out the cream, I considered putting in a teaspoon of organic raw, sludgy sugar. Yet I made a decision months ago that sugar first thing in the morning didn't feel good to my body. I'd done so well and almost never craved it but discovered I do when I am under intense stress. I want that something extra, that boost, that feeling of sugar coursing through my veins and the temporary lift if offers.

But rather than grabbing for a spoonful this time, I listened and noticed what was going on in my body. Then I chose to proceed with my new normal, had my tea without sugar but I also started to consider stress eating and addictions which to me go hand-in-hand.

the past...
Many years ago in Louisiana, my father suddenly passed out in line at the Picadilly Cafeteria. Thankfully my brother was with him. They called the ambulance, rushed him into the emergency room and the Dr.s saw he was having the signs of a heart attack and gave him nitro glycerin to rapidly thin his blood. Upon receiving it, rather than getting better, my father became gravely ill because they had improperly diagnosed him. He wasn't having a heart attack but rather bleeding ulcers that had caused a huge blood loss and giving him blood thinners had put him in grave danger.

I remember walking into ICU to see him. He was white as fresh snow but also had a gray tint underneath. There were tubes and monitors and stands of IVs everywhere and I was terrified I'd lose him. At some point in the middle of that long night, my mother came to sit with him and my brother and I went to go bathe, change and have an hour or so at home.

the dawning...
On the way home I stopped at the local convenience store in my distraught stupor. I automatically ambled to the frozen section and picked out two types of ice cream and stumbled to the counter. I looked up at the line in front of me and there was my brother Nathan with two 6-packs of beer in his hand and some chewing tobacco. We both gave smile nods and slight smiles. He paid, then I did, and said, "see you later" and got in our cars.

That night, something in my head clicked but I didn't know why or what exactly. I went home, took desperate spoonfuls of slurpy rich ice cream, bathed and went back to hospital duty. I saw my brother the next day and we only talked about Dad's condition, never mentioning the night before.

before you can conquer an enemy, you first have to know what or who it is...
Years later when I helped with the care of my mother and stepfather, I became aware of what each of our family members gravitated toward to make them feel better. My mother wanted salty, greasy things like fries and potato chips and my sister craved dairy in the form of creamy, buttery things. To this day my sister eats a tiny piece of raw butter like its the finest dessert in the world.

She believes many crave dairy and creamy things when under stress because we were fed by mother's milk (or some formula), as infants and drinking or eating something similar brings comfort. When we have extreme stress we often crave our mother or parents and the love, warmth and strength they gave us. Perhaps when reaching for ice cream I was also reaching for the support and love of my infancy.

As the years passed and my brother Nathan grew more into a man with more and more manly stresses, he unfortunately turned to his alcohol "comfort" too much. He never learned to cope well with stress though you wouldn't have known it from looking at him. He always seemed so calm and so in control. But he was hiding in his addictions, drinking often when others didn't see him and maintaining an incredible amount of control. Upon his getting sick and tragically dying at the age of 44 I can't tell you the amount of people, (close friends of his!), said, "I had no idea it was this bad! Sure he drank and sometimes too much but I would have never guessed!" We often hide our addictions from others and sometimes we don't even acknowledge them to ourselves. There is power in acknowledgment.

I now know that night at the convenience store we were nodding quietly at our addictions being seen by the other. We'd both chosen a pretty anonymous place to go on the way home, hoping I'm sure we wouldn't run into anyone we knew and have to explain our actions or be seen. We wanted to grab our comfort and go home to soothe ourselves in whatever way we could.

the future...
So what's your stress reaction? Do you turn to cigarettes, alcohol, sugar, white flour, buttery things, salty things, danger, sex or shopping when you are stressed? My belief at this time is that we all have some automatic behaviors we tend toward. Some are more unhealthy than others and some of us appear to have less control than others about the choices we make with what we crave. I also believe we can get better at this.

For me, noticing and listening to what I desire is the first key factor. Realizing I'm under lots of stress and I might want chocolate or caffeine to get a little boost of energy or endorphins helps because then I can make a choice. I have my first reaction, the "crave", then once I really listen to it, I can make a choice. "Would that really make me feel better? or do I need something else?" is what I've started asking after I deeply acknowledge the desire.

Sometimes what I long for is exactly what I want and I have it but often in smaller amounts than I might have had I not heard what my body and desires were screaming. Other times though, I hear that I want a cupcake because it's easy and sweet and fast but what my body really craves deeply underneath the automatic response is something fresh like fruit or raw veggies to help hydrate me and give me a less sluggish feeling. And sometimes, interestingly enough, what I most want is a hug or to be held and comforted and many many in this culture don't have an outlet for that. I am hoping we work to change this issue and become more physically warm toward one another, I believe that alone would help comfort many in pain.

the steps toward a solution...
I realize some people don't have the ability to stop and notice addictive behaviors but if you are one who is becoming more aware of your automatic reactions then you could also walk the line with me. When you don't take these steps, often stress eating and addictions rule you rather than being choices. Becoming conscious of what's going on with you is key.

Here are the basic steps:
(some of these may sound obvious but there is such power in acknowledgment and noticing, don't discount them until you try!)

*Be aware that you are experiencing stress (moving, breakup, new relationship, any physical, emotional, or mental trauma for you or those you love) or maybe not getting enough rest or working too many hours, anything that depletes you can be a stressor... {oddly sometimes I didn't admit this piece and when you don't, the other automatic reactions have power}

*Notice & acknowledge what you are craving. Sometimes I crave moving. When I get bad news, fight-or-flight kicks in and if I move I'm much better off. At hospitals, I am known for running up and down stairs just to let the adrenaline get out of my body. Other times, often after the immediate anxiety, I want to go look at the vending machines for a little 'pick-me-up'. All of these reactions and desires are important informaion.

*Once you've acknowledged your desires deeply (rather than trying to stuff them), and understand the reason why, i.e., "sugar or caffeine gives me energy or a cocktail helps me relax or sex makes me feel loved", then slow down the process a little, realize you have the choice to have that if you want, or something else, and see if that's what you really want and need at that moment. Sometimes it will be, but other times it won't! It's a fascinating process to learn.

*Finally, after you've made your choice, see how you feel and again, *acknowledge to yourself that you are under tremendous stress* and that people under stress often fail to take care of themselves. Try to take a moment to do what Cheryl Richardson refers to as Extreme Self Care. That can mean anything from taking a bath, doing laundry, taking a walk, cleaning our your freezer or cooking yourself a soup. As you are probably still under stress at this moment, give yourself grace not to get everything done but pick one or two. One perhaps that 'must' get done and one that will start to make you feel more cared for.

Remember... there is a reason flight attendants stress that adults put on oxygen masks before putting them on their children. If you are not taking care of yourself, you are no good to someone else. And as Cheryl Richardson also points out, If it feels selfish to eat or perform self care, that's a cue you need it even more.

Now, breathe..........

Zoey's Café serves up mean blues and mixed dining results

2010-10-21T15:53:00.000-07:00

Zoey's Fish n Chips

originally printed in the VC Reporter

photos by Wesley Bauman /WBI. (c)2010

10/21/2010

Zoey’s Café
185 E. Santa Clara St.
Ventura
652-1137
$5-$15

It was a quiet, foggy Wednesday night when we visited Zoey’s. We stepped inside the door, and an outgoing bartender hailed us from behind the bar. There was no server that night so it was recommended we forgo the more formal dining room to the right, and eat in the bar or on the patio.

The bartender came around to turn on the patio heater and move a table close to it. As it warmed up, we sat under the red light and took in the murals painted by MB Hanrahan and M Myers.

Musicians were bellied up to the bar, relaxing before they took the stage for the inaugural Songwriters Round night.

We checked out the menu. I’ve been waiting to review Zoey’s in its new location for a while, but it’s taken some time settling into a menu. In its former location, it served sandwiches, pizzas, wine and beer, and when they changed to the larger Santa Clara location, at first, the menu was dramatically different.

Now Zoey’s menu is somewhere in the middle between the old and the new. It has the familiar pizza/salad options of the past and has kept a few twists from its newer attempted incarnation, such as soup, a nightly pasta dish and bacon-dusted wontons. And there is a full bar so they also feature an array of specialty drinks.

We ordered the Guinness cheese soup, shrimp tacos and an apricot, goat-cheese salad and cocktails. I found my Mojito thin on fresh mint and tweaked with sour mix that made it taste more like a hybrid, mint-infused margarita.

Our appetizers arrived, and we started with the Guinness cheese soup. It had a somewhat sludgy texture and a mild cheddar flavor. My companion couldn’t taste any Guinness, and I realized its presence was so delicate that his drink was overriding it. It was a subtle but satisfying soup.

Our three shrimp tacos featured small corn tortillas filled with seasoned shrimp, cabbage, pico de gallo and cilantro aioli. The flavors of this dish were plain, and the aioli dollop in the middle was only incorporated into two out of the six or so bites. The pico de gallo wasn’t up to par, and in spite of the bartender’s glowing recommendation, I didn’t love the tacos.

The apricot salad’s flavors were sweet and inviting. Dried apricots, mixed greens, almond slices and creamy goat cheese blended well with the sweet, slightly spiced honey mustard dressing. But it was over-dressed so the greens were wilted, not crisp. Both the salad and the shrimp tacos had the possibility of coming together but lacked in execution.

The fish and chips and Thai pizza entrees arrived quickly. We asked for malt vinegar to accompany the fish and chips and it arrived in a ramekin, which made it a challenge to apply a small drizzle. I prefer it in small bottles.

I’d been tipped off by a friend recently that Zoey’s fish and chips were the best she’d had since the East Coast, so I was anxious to try them. Five pieces of battered red snapper sat atop a mound of french fries (chips), and a ramekin of chunky, creamy cabbage slaw sat on the side. The fries and the fish were both steaming hot.

I flipped for the fish. The filets were smaller than the steaks of fish many restaurants give you, and the batter was thin, flaky and crunchy. I prefer the crunchy ends of fish and chips, and the thin fish pieces gave me both the crunch and the moist fish in almost every bite. The fries, however, were lackluster.

The medium-thick-crusted Thai pizza featured chicken, roasted peppers, mango, mozzarella and a spicy peanut sauce.

The sauce, which we got on the side, was very smoky, thick and potent. The combination of flavors and textures in this pizza was intriguing but not a symphony. The chicken was tender, and the moist peppers fought a bit with the cooked mozzarella. The fresh mango chunks were baked, so their flavor was nominal.

Dessert choices came in both liquid and solid form — fudge cake to strawberry shortcake, vodka ice cream drinks and boozy Mississippi Mud Slides. We erred on the side of being able to drive home and tried the fresh berry shortcake, featuring a house-made shortcake.

Its immense presentation was delightful, two layers high of shortcake, fresh whipped cream between the layers, cut strawberries and a white-chocolate pirouette cookie. The shortcake was like a dense, lightly sweetened biscuit and very cold. The strawberry sauce and whipped cream were delicious, but the berries, though beautiful, weren’t exactly ripe and luscious.

Zoey’s is (and I suspect will always be) more of a music than a dining destination, but the additions to the menu makes me more apt to return to eat there. It was a half hit/half miss, relaxed night.

As we left, everyone had moved into what was the main dining area on the right, graced with red velvet curtains and low-slung banquettes. Four local musicians sat onstage together and took turns singing their original songs. We ended our night on a high note by melting into one of Lee Koch’s deeply moving, soulful blues songs before braving the thickening fog bank outside.

The Sultry Season of Summer Fruit and Sweet Figgy Redemption

2010-10-08T14:00:00.000-07:00

"Shape is a good part of the fig's delight." Jane Grigson

The pendulous figs hanging from the gnarled tree in our backyard had finally ripened to the point of splitting. I'd watched them for months, (an eternity through my young eyes), from tiny green buds expanding into bulbous blackberry-hued balloons, waiting as patiently as I could to harvest their dark, exotic essence. This process was painstakingly symbolic of how, by the end of summer, I too felt like I could burst open or boil over. The scaldingly hot, sticky summers of southern Louisiana would have started to feel merciless. My skin was a deep golden-orange hue and my hair a shock of dry flaxen straw.

If I wasn’t hiding submerged up to my eyeballs like an alligator in the cool, turquoise chlorine bath of the local swimming pool, I was shuffling around looking for trouble or what I called fun. Summers days were spent outside, starting immediately after breakfast, and our job as kids was to entertain ourselves and remain outside at all cost. In June we felt like we'd never get enough time to play but by the end of the summer we were sated, crispy and bored and starting to terrorize the neighborhood like a band of wild banshees.

Along with Louisiana heat came sudden, violent, summer downpours. One moment we'd be dripping sweat, feeling like our brains might explode in our skull like Jiffy Pop and fabricating fake injuries, illnesses and excuses to retreat inside where the grown-ups mingled in the cool, conditioned air. Then lightning would flash across the sky and the heavens would break open dumping barrels of water upon us. A moment later, the downpour would cease, the sun would part the clouds, and start to soak up the water like a huge, hungry sponge.

With downpours come flash floods, cars careening into the ditches of our corner lot and many confused hermaphroditic megadriles, more commonly known as earthworms. I often observed them squiggling on the sidewalk after a rain, catching their wormy breath, just barely having avoided drowning. Then I would watch as the brilliant sun baked them onto the sidewalk in curlicues like fried onion rings on a gray porous skillet.

That same cruel heat that fried earthworms and burned our bare feet as we hopped across the street from house-to-house also brought with it sugary redemption in the form of luscious, fruity carnage. Fuzzy dripping full peaches whose juices would run down our (oft’ dirt-streaked) decolletages as we bit them, blackberries we tried to maneuver from their thorny vined cages that stained our grubby fingers deep purple and the fruity crescendo of summer... bursting, splitting ripe figs.

In August we became warriors in a strategic battle against the birds, trying to determine would get the most fruit and we weren’t above using tree nets, aluminum pans and slingshots armed with pebbles to keep our prizes. We'd lie-in-wait with our ammunition, just around the corner for our feathered enemies to near.

Figs were the crowning glory of our summer harvest. They were my father’s favorite fruit and each year when they ripened, we'd harvest them gingerly from the tired, laden, branch-bent tree, treating them like precious silken purses. We’d wait until they easily slipped off the tree with only the slightest pull and slowly savor them one at a time, stretching out the pleasure. We'd gorge on them until we were almost ill, and the rest was reserved for pies, cobblers, tarts, jams, jellies and preserves. Fig season was fleeting but our tree was extremely prolific and as seasons were so perfectly designed, we’d get our fill before they’d completely disappear for another entire year.

Figgy Fantasia

"You never forget a beautiful thing that you have made,' [Chef Bugnard] said. 'Even after you eat it, it stays with you - always." — Julia Child (My Life in France)

As an adult, I discovered many new ways to eat figs but one in particular, an adult ice cream made an impression. It was a hot scalding day spent drifting around my parent's pool with a group of friends. My folks were on vacation and my job was to hold down the forte, attend all my classes and beat the merciless heat that was upon us.

I got out of the pool to sun myself and read the food section of the local paper. Marcelle Bienvenu, a famous Cajun food writer and, (to this day), one of my personal (s)heros, had published a Fig Grand Marnier Ice Cream recipe. I read it out loud to my friends and one of them mentioned his tree at home was laden with ripe, untouched figs.

In a flash we'd raided my parent's liquor cabinet, found an old crank ice cream maker in the garage, hit the store for milk, ice and rock salt and denuded Daniel's tree, all whist still damp in our swimsuits.

We peeled (still years later trying to grasp this concept), and marinated the figs in the heady orange liqueur and cooked the concoction on the stove. Poured the mixture into the container, added layers of ice and salt and took turns cranking. We’d hop up on the side of the pool one-at-a-time and turn the squeaky crank handle while the water from our suit bottoms was sucked into the hot porous cement underneath.

After what seemed like hours, (I now know alcohol makes ice cream take much longer to freeze!), the cranking became difficult and we raised the lid to discover a huge frozen glob of ice cream, the consistency of soft-serve!

I excitedly tracked wet footsteps on the brick floors inside to grab a handful of spoons and we dangled in the cool pool, propped up on our elbows and took turns scooping out bites from the frosted metal cylinder.

It was pure boozy, figgy, deliciousness that intoxicated our taste buds. We got high savoring the frozen creamy fruit of our labor and laid on our rafts to float in the cool water all blissed-out in sugary liqueured comas.

Lead Belly Ice Cream

"Fat gives things flavor." — Julia Child(....well, perhaps not always Julia :)

A decade later, I met Sarah, my new food-writing editor, at a classical music luncheon at the planetarium. She'd sounded direct and determined, a huge presence on the phone, and when the bespectacled, petite redhead standing all of five feet approached me with her too-large floppy sun hat and quizzical smile, I was briefly taken aback. She was not only smart but almost magical and a person I longed to impress.

We began sharing stories and somehow my figgy tale unearthed and we became determined to make more of Marcel's fig ice cream. But her recipe wasn't available so I haphazardly grabbed another I found online and we set off.

We drove to our farm and precariously negotiated ladders to pick the fruit. This recipe didn’t require we soak the figs as Marcel’s recipe and it involved lots of heavy cream.

We cooked the figs for what seemed an eternity while Sarah’s freezer hummed along in the background. It was a dark new-moon night and we brewed stout black coffee kept us awake. The mesmerizing chop, chop, chop of her ceiling fan was tempting us to lower our eyelids but her husband Charlie and daughter Hannah kept us awake by popping their heads in looking for a treat.

When the motor finally slowed to a low growl; we unplugged it and peered in. The color was more yellow than I remembered and the ice cream was much denser than the soft-serve I remembered. I dug out the first spoon-bending bite, (the consistency of Play-Doh), and still blindly hopeful, put it in my mouth.

Instantly my tongue became wrapped in what felt like a fuzzy cocoon. Rather than slurpy, figgy, boozy bliss, the ball of dense sweet emulsion melted in my mouth and its sickly taste, that of pure hollow fat, clung to my tongue. “Well?” asked Sarah in a very optimistically tone. I slowly turned toward her and announced, “I’m not quite sure how but we just spent hours creating what I can only call Lead Belly Ice Cream.”

I discouraged her from trying it, my reputation as a foodie and the figgy legend sorely on the line, but she was so curious and impossible to dissuade. I watched her face as she took a bite. She tried to be kind but there was no nice way around this elephant -- it was a disaster. I remember adding a spoonful to my coffee, thinking it might serve as creamer but all it did was ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee.

Too frugal to throw it away, we put it in our freezers where it sat for months. In attempting to recreate a perfect memory and impress my editor, I'd ultimately churned one of my top culinary disasters. Luckily she kept giving me assignments and didn't assume my whole culinary career was a sham but to this day I cannot fully erase that cloying, laden taste from my pallet. Nor can I erase the lore that was spawned that night.

Legends that make and break us.

Kitchen disasters grow in the south in legendary fashion. There's Potatoes Au Rotten, Horribly Salty Banana Ice Cream, Sunken Souffle, the multi-colored layer cake that set off all the fire alarms at four a.m., and Burnt Beet Night to name a few. And as much as my friends love to eat, they love to laugh. The worst stories become the best jokes and Sarah has been recounting the legend of Lead Belly Ice Cream ever since.

Recently, like a Hydra, this story raised its head on facebook and I decided to own it once and for all. Meanwhile searched for Marcelle’s original recipe and miraculously, found it!

Figs are here in Ventura County for a brief window of time. While writing this, I procured some and asked online if anyone had an ice cream maker. Within minutes Charlie (from that fated evening) chimed in, "You're not making fig ice cream, I hope."

Well I am, but the real one again, not its lead-belly brethren and here it is Sarah & Charlie, Marcelle's original recipe should you dare to join me. If I thought you'd fly in, I'd put on a pot of coffee right now!

Marcelle Bienvenu’s Fig & Grand Marnier Ice Cream
Makes about 1 1/2 quarts

1 quart of ripe figs, peeled and mashed
1/2 cup of Grand Marnier
6 large eggs, lightly beaten
4 cups of milk
1 cup of sugar
1 tablespoon of pure vanilla extract

Combine the figs and Grand Marnier in a bowl and set aside.

In a large, heavy, non-reactive saucepan, combine the eggs, milk, sugar and vanilla over medium heat and whisk to dissolve sugar. Bring to a gentle boil, stirring constantly, reduce heat to medium-low. Continue stirring until the mixture thickens enough to coat a wooden spoon.

Remove from heat and let cool for about 10 minutes. Cover and refrigerate until well chilled.

Add the fig mixture and stir to mix. Pour the mixture into an ice cream freezer and freeze according to the manufacturer's directions.

Living Life With A Scrambled Alphabet -- The Hidden Faces of Dyslexia

2010-10-06T19:36:00.000-07:00

Should you only write or speak if you can do it properly? This is an issue I have struggled with throughout my life and for someone who is a writer, it's a very serious question.

Recently this question reared its head in the very public realm of facebook. A writer friend of mine starting making posts, light rants if you will, about people who confused their, there and they're, your and you're and its and it's, and used apostrophes and possessives improperly. I publicly typed "if it's me, I'm sorry" and she assured me it wasn't me she was speaking about. What she didn't realize is it that it easily could have been.

Later my same writer friend made more such statements again and others joined in. The general consensus of those commenting was that a public persona shouldn't post things to represent their business, even facebook posts, unless they were properly written. The idea was that it made that business seem unprofessional and their messages wouldn't be taken seriously. I jumped into the post and questioned that statement, particularly in the facebook forum which, by its very nature is less formal. I also asked, "Is a message only valid if properly spelled or written?" "Should someone who can't write properly not post publicly?"

I later held a private conversation with my writer friend about it and once she learned I was friends with the person who'd created the post in question, she assumed I was being protective of my friend. Well, yes and no. You see, I suffer from my own confusions with the English language. So much so that I stopped writing publicly for several years and in high school I used to hold on to my papers way beyond their due date because I wanted to go over and over my work. I remember a teacher noticed and told my mother I was a perfectionist. She turned a light on for me that day, but there would be other switches to throw too.

The unspoken secret

Just last night my friend who had made the grammatically improper statements in question was chatting with her dear friend and he teased her about her poor spelling. I love how our friends can tell us the good, the bad, and otherwise and they still love us and we them. But my friend made a telling statement about how this man was right, she wasn't a great speller but what really hurt was when others told her what she wrote made her appear stupid and how she almost didn't start her business because it involved being very public vocally and that for her brought back memories of being teased as a child -- all because she's dyslexic. A light went off in my head and I knew she had to tell her story.

Kat Merrick is the owner of Surf Chick, an apparel line and her newest business that she's currently launching is Totally Local VC. She is a mother, an entrepreneur, someone who is dedicated to Ventura County more than almost anyone I know and someone who gets letters and words jumbled because she suffers from dyslexia.

Kat Merrick, photo by Chris Jensen

If you've ever sat down with Kat you'll know she's not only enthusiastic but she's a fast talker. She has a southern drawl, (says punkin instead of pumpkin), and has a thousand ideas to convey at lightning speed and most of them are very worthy ideas, the kind people want and need to hear. But sometimes they come out mixed up when she tries to put them on paper.

Dyslexic Brilliance

What if everyone with dyslexia was afraid to let their light shine? Well? First imagine the world without the inventions of Thomas Edison, Alexander Graham Bell and Albert Einstein. That's just a start really -- George Washington suffered from dyslexia too. And what if Hans Christian Anderson hadn't written his tales or Leonardo de Vinci had been too afraid to give his light to the word? The list goes on and on.

The Language Wounds in My Life

Just this past week I was speaking with one of my best friends who is struggling to teach her dyslexic daughter. She said her daughter, Isabella, outright explains to people "I have dyslexia," whereas my friend tried to hide that most of her life. And there was a quiet, deep moment on the phone where my friend said, "I feel so guilty for having passed this down to her." I told my friend I believe we have the ability to heal more with each generation of our families and it appeared the stigma was part of what she and Isabella were working on.

I grew up with a dyslexic brother who was sent to special schools and made to trace letters on sandpaper over and over to try to learn the proper way to write things. He has since become a successful man with a great command of the English language and is thankful he got to attend special classes and learned to overcome his dyslexia. Not everyone can.

I wasn't diagnosed with dyslexia but I have suffered my own brain-bending confusions with grammar. For years I would write things and my deeply talented mother would help me unscramble them. She was my editor from birth and oddly enough, shortly after her death is when I started writing professionally. Editors would love my writing but tell me I had the order of sentences confused. I would ask them to show me how to do it better and by the time they were finished I would be confused and defeated because I couldn't understand the why or how of anything they'd done and I barely recognized my own work. Then as I started to get a small handle on what they were trying to teach me, I had a bizarre occurrence.

I got a piece accepted to a new paper and as it was going to print overnight, I drove to sit with the editor and make fast changes. This piece had been edited by my professor several times. It had been worked over like Michael Jackson's face -- there was still the essence of what once was but it was so rearranged I hardly recognized it. But I was sure it was better than what I'd written because my professor had finally signed off on it. "At least it wasn't the embarrassment I'd started with, I thought to myself.

"The new editor turned to me puzzled and said, "I think this sentence should be the beginning of this article," and my eyebrows raised. She had chosen the sentence out of the middle that was my lead when I first wrote the article. When I told her that she said,"You have a natural ability and voice, Hone that, stop listening to others." We then rearranged the piece yet again and I left dazed, half elated yet further confused.

What happened to me that day caused me to stop writing for years. I'd had enough. I felt I would never get it right and I didn't want to be humiliated by having poorly written things going to print where they'd live forever, waiting to embarrass me further. When I healed enough from those events to write again, I decided to just write the best I could, inherently and, interestingly enough, my sister helped edit me. But she only tweaked an adjective or punctuation mark every now and again, she didn't rearrange the entire puzzle.

Since I allowed that process to unfold, I've found other stories and genres coming through me and its freed a more authentic voice. I've even won honorable mentions from large organizations and had the Head of the Food Writer's Conference call to tell me not to give up that we need my voice. I might never be the writer my mother was or my professor wanted me to be but I can be the writer I am in my soul as I listen to my voice.

Shining the light where there was darkness

So yes to my author friend, (who by the way is a person I not only admire but even adore), I did react in part to the facebook discussion because Kat is my friend but it was as much about my own wound. I don't want myself or others to stop saying things that are valuable to the world just because they don't always say them right.

Last night as I sat across from Kat at a party and heard what she said, never having known she was dyslexic, a light went off and I knew this story should be told. There are many faces to this letter-warping disability and many unique voices. I hope all who suffer with language barriers get the help they need but I equally desire those who do aren't silenced or shamed into not having voices because they don't always say things in a grammatically correct fashion. Let us shine a light on some of the dark confusions others live in.

Meanwhile, I shared what I'd discovered about Kat with my writer friend and she, told me a couple of stories about dyslexic writers she knows of and sent me this link that I adore by Sangay Glass, titled, "For Dyslexics and The Spell Check Dependent", as well as information on a book that is a visual spelling guide for homonyms.
Do you have your own story with dyslexia to share? struggles and triumphs and humors and horrors welcome! What help is available for dyslexics currently in Ventura County or other areas? If you have tools others don't know about, or your own stories, please let us know!

A Day of Discoveries at the Ventura Farmers' Market

2010-10-02T23:35:00.000-07:00

Today I had one of those organic days, the kind that just flows. It started at the Ventura Farmers' Market Downtown and before I knew it, I was learning and encountering and my life was filled with wonder. Here are a few of my discoveries.

Heirloom tomatoes in particular are at their peak -- it's been a damp, long, wet season getting here but we are now bursting with purple, green, yellow, orange and red wonders. Some of them look like they are from another planet, maybe they are the hidden alien life form!

This past Wednesday, I got to sample brown turkey, strawberry, white and black mission figs at the Midtown Farmers' Market at the mall but today a lovely gentleman turned me on to Adriatic figs. They were stiff competition for my current favorite, the strawberry figs and he's the only vendor I've found in the area.

As we're again in a shoulder season, the Asian stand at the market has long beans in both purple and green and pea shoots for a brief period. They also had okra finally & lovely bitter melons.

Tiny Thai eggplants made an appearance, they are delicious in curries. Here's a recipe that uses both long beans and Thai eggplant.

And angled luffa gourds showed up looking like pod people! If allowed to mature on the vine, they turn into the scratchy luffas you use in the tub but can be eaten when picked immature and green. You can stir fry it into sauces or soup, here for example is an angled luffa and clam soup recipe. Their juice is also reported to be a natural cure for jaundice!

Part of what I learned today is that prunes are not just dried plums, they are very specific type of plum that's a more oval shape. I bought two kinds to try, some are better for cooking, others for eating fresh. Though not fashionable, I love the taste of plums, can't wait to taste them!

Another coup is that Spring Hill from Petaluma is back at both Ventura Farmers' Markets! They have organic fresh cheeses and butter and lots of samples to taste. Their cheese curds are divine, they also have a spicy one called Firehouse that has a soft beginning note and a spicy finish and a garlic variety and an organic sage cheddar that I crave. I no longer have to have my sister go to the Ojai Farmers' Market to get my fresh cheese curds which I use in almost everything I cook. Whew.

As usual, Peacock Farms had amazing displays, especially with their round purple eggplants...

All varieties of potatoes were there:

Bi-colored sweet corn was also featured for a small window of time, perfect for grilling or roasting.

Asparagus spears were lined up like sentinels, guarding the artichokes...

And this has been the best season for white nectarines. Ever. You simply must sample them before they are gone!!

Tuberose is making its brief appearance. My honey bought me some and my whole house is perfumed with their heady aroma.
They are from the agave family and traditionaly used to make leis and for Indian wedding ceremonies -- I could imagine someone planning a wedding around their blooming season. An elder gentleman saw us carrying our bouquet, inquired where we found it and literally sprinted across the market to grab some. I wonder if they were for him or another?

Amarula: there's a new liqueur in town...

2010-10-01T14:42:00.000-07:00

The man at the Liquor Store on the corner of Kalorama & Main St. is a salesman in the most real meaning of the word. He watches what you buy and expands that to help you know more about what you might want.

I cannot visit him without either walking out with more bottles than I ever intended to buy or, he talks me into buying something other than what I thought I wanted. My scorpionic nature always questions on the way home if I was taken or cajoled into something other than I want but then I research the deal he touted, "if everyone else is not selling this for twice the amount, I will buy your next bottle for free," or the rarity of the supply, "This is selling out almost as fast as I buy it, you have to try it!" as was the case for this particular product today. When I research whatever fantastical statement he made, low-and-behold, this slick salesman is always right! And I always love what he suggests.

That day I was buying milk, Grand Marnier and Haagen Dazs. He eyed my selections. "You like sweet liqueurs?" "Ehhh, Not particularly", I dismissively replied. "Ah." he said. He rang up my purchases then as he was putting them in the bag said, "It's just that I see what you are buying and there is something I think you would like. It sells out quickly, will you taste it?" Naturally, I gave in.

Amarula is a cream-based liqueur made from marula fruit of the "elephant tree", that grows only in Africa. The liqueur is made in South Africa. Not only where the fruit grows limited to that continent, it only grows from uncultivated trees and has to be harvested from the wild plains. It's full of vitamin C (important as I know everyone concerns themselves with the nutrients in their booze), and the nuts inside the fruit are used for medicinal purposes.

The shopkeeper spoke Arabic to a man in the back who rapidly appeared with a shot glass. They pulled down a bottle and gave me a taste. "It's good," I said, much like Bailey's. "Ahhh," he said. "But Bailey's is whiskey and cream and other ingredients and this is only the fruit of the marusa and cream".

I would love to do a side-by-side tasting of them but I can say this was delicious, potent and creamy. I'd be beautiful used in desserts, coffee or ice cream -- particularly warming on a foggy, overcast day.

La Gloria Market -- A whole other world right in the heart of Oxnard

2010-10-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

We are not that far removed from a time when folks grew their food in their backyards and hunted or fished for the rest of what they put on the table. In my household we held great reverence for animals that were sacrificed to feed us. We always said grace and more often than not thanked the hunters, the animal and God for our bounty. In the south, where I was raised, we try to utilize as much of an animal as we can and eat parts of them many have never sampled but as some have said to me when speaking of poorer cultures, particularly a while back, "You used what you had."

As I sat with my girlfriend at La Gloria, we started to discuss out backgrounds and I learned that a Mexican household and one from the deep deep South are very similar in some ways. My friend recounted memories of being a child and helping clean intestines with a hose thoroughly before they were cooked down in a pot outside. I told her tales of hanging sausages to cure on a clothesline and how my mother begged me to try brains and eggs, her favorite childhood breakfast. I also can still smell fresh blood being carried on a cold wind as my brothers cleaned and plucked game.

In Louisiana and Mexico, tripe, tongue, head and skin are all eaten on a regular basis. We are coming back to simpler times in some regards across the country and many, including myself, are growing a good deal of their own food and eating eggs laid by their own chickens. For most, we're not at the place yet where we step outside and ring a chicken's neck, scald and pluck it to put it in the pot but we are certainly more aware of where our food is coming from and I believe more appreciative of the sacrifice involved.

Why not consider trying dishes you haven't? Some of them might just become new favorites. Before you know it you might find yourself ordering the pig's feet or cow's tongue from the local butcher... (note: I didn't eat the tongue at La Gloria but it's such a tender, melty meat, if you haven't tried it, you might should!

La Gloria Market
430 S. Oxnard Blvd.
Oxnard
486-8735
$1.00-$7.95

La Gloria Market -- A whole other world right in the heart of Oxnard

Driving through Oxnard one night, the warm light coming from a place I’d never seen beckoned from the roadside. There was something so appealing about La Gloria Market, even from the roadside, I knew I had to eat there.

I contacted a dear friend who is very knowledgeable about Mexican food to dine with me and guide me through any hidden mysteries. She told me La Gloria Market reminds her of being in Mexico, and I couldn’t wait.

We headed to downtown Oxnard one bright sunny afternoon to visit the eclectic market on the corner of Fourth Street and Oxnard Boulevard.

Outside were several benches where generations of men sat together. The large market has two sides. On the left is a supermarket (supermercado) that sells everything from fresh fruit to dried shrimp powder and cow hooves or cookies to cell phones. On the right is a bustling food area.

There is a counter that serves hot foods, a bakery (panaderia) full of cakes, sweet breads, turnovers and cookies in the back corner, and a fresh juice and milkshake bar. When you first walk into the food area, wafts of the aroma of cooking tortillas fill your nose; and to the left, there is a never-ending line for the most popular counter, where scoops of natural fruit ice creams are piled high into Styrofoam cups.

My senses were heightened immediately with so much to see, smell, hear, touch and taste! The lofted, open-beamed cathedral ceilings lent an old-world charm. Each counter had signs, mostly written in Spanish; but, thankfully, the vendors had lots of patience, and most were bilingual.

There were small, carved offerings of vegetables and fruit art on every counter, like a lemon blowfish made with toothpicks and a sharpie pen. There were flags, piñatas and sherbet-colored metal chairs on the concrete floors.

Lemon Blowfish
Mexican pop music piped through speakers to create a happy buzz. A courtyard between the two markets offers outdoor seating next to a beautiful shrine to the Virgin Mary. It’s a bright, fun, engaging environment that transported me back to time I spent in Mexico years ago.

There are more dining options than I can list that vary from the familiar (carne asada tacos, chicken (pollo) burritos, chile rellenos and taquitos) to dishes that aren’t as readily available like tripe (stomach), buche (cheek), head, tongue and pork skin. At times, I felt as if I was in Mexico ordering from a street vendor, but at others, I was back in Louisiana in another culture that celebrates and eats almost all parts of the animal. In honor of our similar though geographically different histories and what bounty we had before us, my friend and I decided to try a bit of offal along with other more standard dishes.

We ordered three tacos, the carne asada, cabeza (roasted cow’s head) and tripa, (tripe/stomach). We also tried a couple of pork ribs; the fish, rice and veggie special; and a chicharrón pupusa, a maize tortilla stuffed with fried pork rind and cheese.

At the counter, there were large glass jugs of fresh juice — papaya, pineapple and watermelon. The first fresh watermelon juice (sandia) I ever had was in Tijuana. It introduced me to a whole other world with its sweet, sludgy, refreshing and hydrating qualities. It remains my favorite drink, and I like it just as they served it — no ice, lightly chilled, no frills. It’s perfection.

I first sampled the tacos, starting with the carne asada – like dipping a toe in the water before jumping in. The tacos were all served on small double tortillas, sprinkled with raw onion and cilantro leaves and accompanied by a spicy, tomato-based dipping sauce and salsas.

The lightly chewy, small cubes of carne asada steak were straightforward, with a touch of crunchy charred edges. The cabeza taco was just the opposite — tender and delicate slowly stewed meat that melted in our mouths; and the tripe, my friend’s favorite, was cut into small bits, fried, salty and tasty or, in her words, “chewy, lightly crunchy bits of deliciousness.”

The pork ribs were a sloppy mess of seasoned meat that fell off the bone. The pinto beans we chose, frijoles de la olla, were slow-cooked in a clay pot. They were tender, lightly seasoned and slurpy bean perfection.

The pork skin-stuffed pupusa was accompanied by a devilishly red-hued, spicy pickled cabbage slaw (curtido) that had blasts of chili powder and oregano in it. The pupusa itself was crunchy-edged maize dough, with a melted, meaty texture and a distinct fried corn and pork flavor. It was by far my friend’s other favorite dish.

The fish special featured sautéed tilapia, white rice with corn and carrots and fresh broccoli, cauliflower and carrots, and it came with tortillas. This dish felt fresh and healthy, and acted to balance the other, heavier options we’d eaten.

It’s hard to fathom leaving La Gloria without sampling something sweet. We tried the coconut flake-edged jellyroll, and a divine piece of moist chocolate mousse- and strawberry-filled vanilla cake. We also tasted some of the ice creams and sherbets. The fruit flavors made with water were true to the exact flavor of the watermelon, cantaloupe or strawberry and the creamy flavors made with milk, like the coconut (not too sweet and made with lots of real coconut flakes) or the smooth, icy chocolate, with bits of deep dark chocolate bits hidden inside were out of this world.

You could travel across the border for an authentic experience or hop the train right across from La Gloria Market and head to L.A.’s famous Olvera Street for the Mexican Market, but why not first explore what’s right in your backyard?

La Gloria Market offers an economical bevy of sensations right in the heart of downtown Oxnard.

In Search of the Perfect Sunday Bite -- Grilled Figs, Goat Brie Cheese & Applewood Bacon

2010-08-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite movies is "The Mirror Has Two Faces" in which Barbara Streisand and Jeff Bridges play two brilliant Columbia professors who enter into an unusual marriage. Bridges, (Gregory) believes sexual attraction ruined his former relationships so finds doubty, plump, Streisand (Rose), a spinster whom he has no attraction to and settles down into a functional relationship. They marry and live in the perfect non-sexual union - until Rose announces she wants to consummate their relationship and blows everything up. It's smart, funny and as always happens with romance, involves a twist or two.

Barbara Streisand's character, Rose Morgan is in search of two things in life: a man whose kisses make her swoon to the point of hearing the philharmonic in her head and the perfect bite of food. As the movie develops and Gregory turns down her sexual advances, she transforms from the sloppy, loving, feminine mess of a character into a warrior who works out furiously, diets and ends up getting wooed by several men, even those who were previously unattainable. As Gregory returns from a long trip to discover Rose is a completely new woman,he longs for the sensual available woman she was by lamenting, "But I love the old Rose! The one with no makeup and baggy clothes who loves the perfect bite! She eats carrots now, isn't that tragic?" It becomes his job to attempt to win her back...

Ever since that film, I have been looking for, longing for, the perfect bite. I take elements of everything in a dish, trying to create the right proportions for that one, perfect, blissful mouthful. When I worked in restaurants I remember the day I discovered amuse bouche, a preemptive bite prior to a meal literally meant to "amuse the mouth". But amuse bouche at the beginning of a meal thus far hasn't come close to creating that most perfect bite I hope to attain. They are often clever concoctions, more clever than sublime to me. And though I still adore trying each amuse bouche I come upon, I still long for the best of the best, that one momentous bite.

This morning I attempted a Sunday,amuse bouche to start my day with an amused palate. I took some California green figs and washed them. I cooked some Applewood bacon in the black iron skillet and while that was cooling on paper towels I took the black iron grill pan, brushed its ridges with olive oil and cranked it to high. I sliced the green figs in half, and put them face down on the smoking, hot grill. The sizzle and char of the moist figs hitting the scalding grill pan was exotic. Instantly caramelized smells wafted throughout the kitchen. I pressed each fig lightly then when they started to get soft, turned them over.

I then grabbed my wheel of Goat Brie Cheese from Trader Joe's, cut slices and placed them on the figs, now grilling their outsides in the pan. As the brie melted and the fig skins got blackened marks, I took a moment to break the bacon into pieces. I removed the figs from the pan, arranged them on the plate, pressed a piece of salty bacon into each melted brie spot and took it to bed for a shared breakfast.

What we enjoyed did amuse, tickle and delight my taste buds. The creamy cheese, sweet, juicy fig and crispy salty bacon were a divine combination. The perfect bite? Well, I'm still searching for that but it was a good start.

Note:

*Cover the figs for the final grilling once the cheese is on so the the cheese melts fully, it's much more yummy that way.

*Use ripe, fully, soft figs. It's a little more messy but the flavor and texture is beyond luscious!

Summertime at Café Verde: Cooling foods, inspirational views

2010-08-19T11:29:00.000-07:00

As printed in the VC Reporter

**Note; images by DK Crawford; the Spa turkey wrap for us for no additional charge so what you are seeing is a 1/2 portion. Also note I did not use my larger camera there because I wanted to preserve the privacy of spa guests so the food looks much prettier in person. Each presentation was beautiful.
** There are more images available for viewing on the VC Reporter website
Summertime at Café Verde: Cooling foods, inspirational views
By D.K. Crawford
08/19/2010

Ojai Valley Inn & Spa
Café Verde
905 Country Club Road
Ojai
(800) 422-6524
$6-$19

Driving toward Café Verde at the Ojai Valley Inn & Spa reminded me why Frank Capra chose to cast this small town as Shangri-La in his 1937 film, Lost Horizon.

To the left were rolling, golden, grassy knolls and dark green trees; the vistas (though partly interrupted by the huge nets of a driving range) are simply breathtaking. Upon parking at the end of the lane after circling the roundabout, we walked up the hill toward the spa – an old-world building of Spanish architecture that features high vertical, a mosaic-tiled dome.

Spa exterior with mosaic tiled dome

The spa interior was stunning with high-beamed ceilings that overlooked a leisure pool, but we were drawn outside as were 90 percent of the diners, to the courtyard where sunny yellow umbrellas cast shadows over wavy glass-topped black iron tables. There were a large fireplace (which must be sumptuous in the fall) and elegant Mission fig trees heavy with ripe pendulous fruit the size of duck eggs.

Ladies were lunching in their spa robes after treatments, and guests lounged by the aqua pool. The grill vent on the roof created white background noise, and everyone spoke in reverent hushed voices, perhaps due to the serene environment, or maybe they were relaxed from being soaked, pounded and preened – but the tempered talking was infectious, like a library or church.

My last spa experience in Palms Springs left my companion and me hungry and wary of spa cuisine. The ascetic food we received that weekend had us smuggling boiled eggs in our pockets from breakfast and signing up like petulant children to beg the spa dietician for more protein. When I perused the menu and noticed an eight-ounce burger and an open-faced salmon sandwich, I sighed.

It also featured fruit smoothies, fresh-pressed juices, strong caffeinated coffees, beer, wine and fruity, tropical alcoholic mixtures the like of mojitos and coladas — my kind of spa!

The details were divine. Heavy, deep-green, mouth-blown goblets held our water, and thick cloth napkins graced our laps. A basket of sourdough bread and Parmesan flatbreads with olive oil arrived alongside a silver spoon rest full of pickled crudités.

Iced Coffee, pickled crudites & flat bread

We settled on two appetizers and sandwiches to share. As I nibbled on pickled carrots and cauliflower, relaxing into the beauty of a moderately warm afternoon, a hummingbird next to me hovered and drank nectar from magenta flowers.

Each dish was beautifully displayed and utilized several layers of delicate ingredients. The Thai-style spring roll appetizer ($8) featured a single roll with two dipping sauces (a sweet chili sauce, a peanut sauce) and fresh sunflower sprouts on the side.

Spring Roll

The intricate roll was bursting with fresh layers of ingredients that cooled my body as I ate them – the perfect starter for a warm summer lunch. It combined mint, carrots, sprouts, shiitake mushrooms and vermicelli in a rice wrapper.

The portion wasn’t large but the flavors were a divine starting bite.

Bite of spring roll

The chicken lettuce wraps ($9), our other appetizer, were also the spa’s take on a Thai classic. It comprised ground chicken, cupped butter lettuce leaves, diced daikon, fresh mint and flat-leafed parsley, crunchy rice noodles, julienned carrots and a spicy, sweet dipping sauce. It was a bit messy, building your own wraps, and there were no surprises to the dish, but neither of us wanted to stop eating it. It was also cooling, crunchy and fresh on a summer day.

Chicken Lettuce Wrap

Chicken Lettuce Wrap Bite

Our sandwiches were the open-faced organic salmon and the turkey wrap, each accompanied by a salad. At first glance, the salads appeared lightly dressed to the point of non-existence but it was an illusion. The tangy rice wine vinaigrette perfectly enhanced each fresh bite.

The turkey wrap ($15) was a wheat tortilla filled with thinly shaved turkey, Laura Chenel chevre (pungent goat cheese from Sonoma), tomatoes, arugula and a lemon herb aioli. It was meaty, simple and filling. The distinct notes of the goat cheese came forward, and the lemon aioli seemed to retreat. It’s a sandwich I would grab for a lunch on the go, but nothing special – just straightforward hearty flavors. I question what makes this a $15 sandwich; then I look around me at the touches and remember the vistas. They are so delicious you almost want to eat them!

1/2 of Turkey Wrap & Salad

Our salmon sandwich ($19) had a stunning presentation. A large piece of glazed salmon sat on top of a fluffy piece of naan (flatbread). On top of the salmon sat a quarter of a perfectly ripe, sliced avocado and some micro-herbs and greens, including tiny potent purple basil leaves the size of small pearls. This dish was truly the star.

Close-up of salmon sandwich with micro greens

Open-face salmon sandwich

The fish was lightly crunchy on the outside, juicy, tender and perfectly cooked on the inside. The floury naan, sweet glaze and omega-rich salmon and avocado made this dish an indulgent, healthy treat.

In true spa-girl-style, we did not try the lemon meringue tart, the chocolate cake, the fruit and yogurt salad, or the chocolate bonbons residing near the front door. We walked to our car, curved round the golf carts and languished in the stunning landscapes.

Lunch was fresh, pleasing and appropriately cooling for Ojai’s hot summers, I had nothing to complain about, yet it didn’t knock my socks off. I wanted Cafe Verde’s food to be as transcendent as the drive to its front door.

Beet Fair n Square -- Bertha's Fate

2010-08-08T15:55:00.000-07:00

DK Crawford © 2010 photos n text

Earlier this spring I discovered a mystery hiding in the belly of our garden. It looked like huge tufts of swiss chard until I got closer and started doing some much-needed weeding. There beneath the greens lay something the likes of which I'd never seen -- a huge beet shaped like a molar that must have been growing for the last two years. I grabbed chris, dragged him outside and showed him the discovery. We discussed whether to dig it up or not and decided to wait until the Ventura County Fair came along to enter our beloved stowaway in the largest beet competition.

It took forever to get from March when we first discovered it to August and her greens grew larger, sprouted seeds and she started pushing out of the soil in the meantime. At one point, her greens took up at least half of our largest garden and we cut them off one by one in compromise as I wanted to plant other things.

The day finally arrived and I called Chris and asked if he'd water our beet so it'd be easier to unearth from the deep heavy clay soil it lay in. He did and by the time I arrived, he was ready to birth her from her bed. When he did finally get her out, we cleaned and marveled at her. She wasn't the deep red beet I'd envisioned: the bull's blood or red ace I imagined but rather either a golden beet or perhaps my favorite, a chioggia peppermint striped variety and that created a conflict for me.

Chris went inside and I moved the cumbersome beet close to my dog to photograph it, then sat down and pondered. If it was one of the varieties I adored, did I really want to give it up to the fair where it would sit for two weeks being marveled at or did I want to throw a party and do a beet bash or make borscht for 40? I put the question out to folks on facebook and though many were voting for borscht, others and Chris were most inclined to enter it. Finally it dawned on me that I could always go buy more beets at the market if need-be and this wasn't my end-all-be(et)-all moment, so I let her go. Well I did as much as I am able, with the caveat that if we saw a bigger beet at the fair when we went to enter her, borscht it was!

We showed up at the fair and Chris carried our charge all the way across the grounds to the agriculture building. He sat and started filling out the requisite paperwork as I casually snuck around and tried to spy the competition.

I saw some larger beets in the middle of the room but couldn't really tell their size. Then he peaked as I sat with our beet, came back and said, "We can so take them!" And her fate was sealed. Perhaps he knew we'd win, perhaps he was just not wanting to carry our 22-pound root veg back to the car...this I cannot answer.

As we signed off on our charge and handed her over, the intake women ooohed and ahhhed over her. When we were leaving a lady handed some of the judges a bottle of homemade limocello along with her pride of lemons and I quickly realized we could, perhaps should have brought gifts! If my southern training has taught me anything it's to never leave home without a sussie! On the way out of the fairgrounds we discussed the beets name and decided upon Bertha LaBrawn BonBon Beet.

Finally, toward the end of the week we got the opportunity to visit Bertha and learn her fate and well, see here...

There sat a long red beet, proudly wearing a ribbon while Bertha's contorted roots wrapped around the shelf. She may not have won but she is special, strangely shaped and certainly unique. I did note when researching a bit further that last year's winner for giant beet also won this year and it appears she and her sister take most of the root vegetable divisions each year. Somehow that spiked the competitor in me. We'll see if I or we enter again.

Gone Plum Crazy By the Sisters Grimm Enters the Ventura County Fair

2010-08-06T15:17:00.000-07:00

photo by Lisa McKinnon

I recently won my first blue ribbon at the Ventura County State Fair for a an organic plum sauce in the dessert topping category! Very very exciting. As Chris and I were entering jars (and thank heavens for his good handwriting or the labels would have been illegible!), I noticed the tense feeling in the room. Those doing intake rarely smiled and didn't give away too much information.

Jelly Jars All A Quiver at the Judges Table

And some people entered every single category they could, a year long dedication of canning, jarring and stewing. I knew I'd stepped into a world where perfection and tight-lipped pride ruled and well, I was daunted. You see, I fail anytime I even get close to perfectionism -- matter-of-fact, I might be clinically allergic. I can charm and create beautiful moments with the best of them but the minute my 'better than' ego takes hold, the project is doomed -- all must come from the heart.

My plum jelly and sauce making has a long, sorted past that started with the perfection of our great great aunts in Mississippi. This month my latest memoir in Edible Ojai tells about this experience of my sister and I attempting our first jelly-making.

Since that event, I have had several other jelly experiences from pots boiling over and staining much of my kitchen a deep, sticky, plummy hue,

to jelly that gels too much, hardly willing to leave the pot it was cooked in, or gels too little because I refused to add more sugar once the flavor was perfect and well, there you have it --Plum Sauce was born. In all fairness, once opened and in the fridge, it does have a gelled consistency but three weeks after being jarred, sitting waiting to be judged? it was considered sauce.

So from plum sauce to plum hockey pucks, I've seen it all, even once or twice have we pulled off "just so" but that is our Moby Dick, our impossible whale to land so we revere it when it happens . Please enjoy the story of how this all came to be, the journey of Gone Plum Crazy Jelly by the Sisters Grimm.

The following memoir is currently available in the latest Edible Ojai.

GONE PLUM CRAZY: The Flight from Perfectionist Imperfections to Just So

By DK Crawford

Watching my great, great aunts from Mississippi bottle homemade jam and roll out buttery half-moon Parker House yeast rolls from scratch to spread it on was pure heaven. The aunts’ blackberry jam and fig preserves were legendary. The smells that emanated from their kitchen were intoxicating and watching their exacting culinary practices was akin to studying master craftsmen.

They were fiercely intellectual, independent-spirited women my mother dubbed “the three furies.” Products of both the Reconstruction and the Great Depression, they rarely minced words. They commanded respect and demanded perfection. They rode stallions and tended a magical sunken garden. One of the three aunts, Myrtle, regularly challenged me well into her late 90s with lightening-speed mathematical tables and grammar challenges, impatiently tapping her cane on the ground when I took too long.

My grandmother and namesake, Dorothy, grew up under the aunts’ loving yet intense Victorian tutelage. She shared a room with fierce Myrtle much of her life and together they helped mold her into the exacting person she became. By the time I was born, my grandmother was a reserved, lion-hearted scientist who patiently taught me about the natural world.

Her scientific nature shone through almost everything she did, especially in the kitchen. Everything was just so and I honestly can’t remember her ever making mistakes or blunders. Everything she (or her cook Laura) touched turned out well due to tried-and-true recipes and techniques.

One of my grandmother’s culinary coups was her plum jelly. It was a crystalline clear, claret-hued concoction, slightly sweet and lightly tart. Her jelly honored the plum’s essence and subtly enhanced what nature had rightly created.

Though I am my grandmother’s namesake, I am far from exacting or perfect. In fact, the harder I strived to be so, the less possible it became. I used to struggle to hide my mistakes, culinary and otherwise, but finally learned that as a creative, I have more highs and lows than I do steady accomplishments. It took me half a lifetime to accept that I am destined to be perfectly imperfect.

Decades after my grandmother’s death, in Ojai (the valley of the moon), my sister, Lys, had the brilliant idea to step into our culinary legacy in homage to our Grandmother Dorothy by recreating her plum jelly. The tiny plums on the trees outside my sister’s cottage appeared to be just the right variety. Our plan was to bottle and send jellies to our Mississippi relatives for Christmas.

As we waited for my sister’s two laden trees to ripen, I had a crisis that caused me to move from my serene single gal’s pad in downtown Ojai to a fixer-upper in Meiner’s Oaks. With the fixer came three dogs, two cats, a man, a child and one tiny air conditioner in a house that turned into a sweltering, un-insulated coffer in the summer.

My male roommate, Rich, quickly realized he was living with a Southern princess who needed a modicum of climate control and made all sorts of future plans for ceiling fans, attic insulation and yes, more window units.

Meanwhile, with the onslaught of Ojai’s summer, my sister’s plums were starting to shrivel. She had bags of them in her fridge and I had some in mine. One morning we discovered tiny bits of mold on the top of two plums and panicked. Mother Nature had decided for us that, ready or not, by Jove! It was time to jell.

Lys showed up with an urgency usually reserved for medical emergencies. As we rushed the plums from her car to my kitchen we felt the stifling heat starting to build and quickly closed the door. Our goal was to honor the plum’s essence, as my grandmother had, by making the jelly not overly sweet, leaving a bit of tartness and making it that gorgeous, clear consistency.

Lys had ordered organic sugar so we had our precious, crystalline bags that would most resemble the pure sludgy sugarcane flavor of our youth. We’d also decided to use the metal-screw-top jars rather than face paraffin. We rinsed the plums, removed the few that had gone bad, and put them in large soup pots on the sea-foam green antique Chambers stove I’d recently rescued from a local curb.

As the kitchen started to warm, the heat outside started to build and I attempted to adjust the vents on the air conditioning unit in the living room. We added a third less sugar than called for and hoped the jelly would still set. We watched the plums slowly melt down to a soupy, sticky stew. I cleaned the jars and lids and left them simmering in another pot on the stove.

I did not have enough pots and pans, nor counter space, so we had to drain the plums in stages. Every pitcher, bowl, pot and surface was filled with the scalding hot sugary syrup. If a drop got on you, its heat would travel deep below the surface of your skin and the sugar would make it hard to get off.

We let the slow-dripping sanguine liquid fall willingly from the pulp-filled colander, waiting patiently for every precious drop. The literature we’d read said you could squeeze it through cheesecloth but it might make the jelly cloudy, so we coaxed it but tried not to press.

As we poured the strained fruit back into the pot and added the gelatin, we dried the jars and lids quickly. We funneled the deep plum liquid into the Ball jars, wiped the threads and hand-tightened the lids. As the water started to boil, so did we. Between simmering plums, a simmering pot of lids and jars and a boiling pot of water for sealing the jars, it was like a sauna. For survival, with each added degree of heat, my sister and I started shedding layers of clothing.

Jelly making without the proper equipment is challenging and can be a bit dangerous. Filling the jars with the hot liquid is touchy. Lowering them into boiling water and keeping them from tipping over is tricky. After they boil, you then must find a way to pick them up, from the still boiling water and set them on the counter. As they cool you listen for the ping, ping, ping! of the jars sucking on their metal lids—the glorious sound of a successful seal.

Not having jelly jar tongs or silicon gloves or a jelly rack is asking for trouble and it’s a miracle if you don’t get burned. The combination of needing to remove clothing to keep cool(er) and the splattering, boiling, often-sticky liquids invited plenty of skin-scalding opportunities. Just as we were negotiating some of these challenges, my new roommate called and informed me he was coming home.

“Ummm… can’t you come home a bit later?” I asked in a frantic tone as I glanced at my sister hopping in her underwear and apron at the stove trying not to get splattered. And with that question Rich became exceedingly curious. The more I tried to suggest he not come home, without wanting to explain that two crazy Southern women were cooking in their skivvies, the more determined he became.

Finally he insisted he was coming. I dashed around the house looking for the lightest decent layers I could muster. When I explained to my crimson-faced sister we were going to have to put some clothing back on, she glowered at me.

When Rich got home, he charged into the kitchen like it was on fire. The wall of humid heat hit him. He looked at our flushed faces and went into action mode, dragging in a system of fans to try to channel the airflow from the living room air conditioner, oh so far away.

My sister and I took to wetting our hair in the shower and using damp towels to wipe down. Kindly, it wasn’t until much later that evening when Rich asked why we’d chosen a 107+ degree day to take this on.

When my roommate’s child, Noah, arrived home from school, in a fashion similar to his father’s, he charged into the kitchen. He’d been told the Southern sisters were up to something mysterious when his father picked him up.

Upon opening the door, he gawked with his 10-year-old mouth wide open. Watching our sweaty, haphazard production line and the sticky liquid drips everywhere was probably the closest to an I Love Lucy moment he’d ever witness. After the shock wore off, he begged for a bite. I gave him a large jelly-coated wooden spoon to lick and he declared it “the best jelly ever!”

My imperfections don’t stop in the kitchen—they also extend to the realm of social graces and thank-you cards. My grandmother and mother practically had thank-you notes written before they’d even enjoy a gift and always mailed packages and letters on time. My siblings and I have always been slower. We are flawed and often run late. I do email, text and call, but in the Southern realm, that’s not the same. You must send something wrapped or handwritten, that physically leaves one place and arrives at another (preferably on time) to make a genuine connection.

Of course Lys and I intended to send our plum jelly as Christmas gifts but, as might be predicted, our jellies remained throughout the entire holiday season on the pantry shelf. We’d not forgotten; just failed to post them in time. As we opened our thoughtful gifts and cards from relatives, lamenting this fact, my astrologically esoteric sister proposed we send the jellies as Chinese New Year gifts.

We got busy buying tiny boxes and making address labels. While labeling the jars, we came up with a name that appropriately summarized our jelly-making experience: Gone Plum Crazy. We checked to make sure each jar was sealed, signed festive cards as “The Sisters Grimm” and gleefully sent them.

In short time, we began receiving beautifully handwritten notes from our relatives thanking us for their Chinese New Year gifts. And one of cousins wrote that the jelly was clear, not too sweet and reminded her of our Grandmother Dorothy’s. Then, further down the card, she used those words—perhaps the highest praise in Southern expressions—she described our jelly as just so!

Now I can’t quite imagine our grandmother getting scalded in her skivvies making her pristine plum jelly and I’m not even sure we ever managed to send our thank-you notes for gifts received that Christmas. But in one sense, in our own perfectly flawed sense, we had represented. It was the closest we’d ever come…

DK Crawford specializes in food writing and food photography. Originally from the bayou country of Southwestern Louisiana, DK now lives in Ventura. Her most recent work can be seen in the VC Reporter, Ventana Monthly, www.ojaipost.com, and online at her food blog: www.thefoodsavantblogspot.com. She is a longtime member of Slow Food and the Southern Foodways Alliance and received two special mentions in 2008 & 2009 from the Symposium for Professional Food Writers.

All photos and text © DK Crawford 2010 and cannot be reproduced without my permission.

Rio Gozo CSA Mystery Box Leads to Friendly Iron Chef

2010-07-28T17:21:00.001-07:00

(Sungold Tomatoes and Eggplant)

DK Crawford © 2010, all photos and text

I have always been intrigued with joining a CSA, which stands for community supported agriculture. It's where consumers commit to paying farmers a certain amount each week or month for a box of goodies. Most of what comes in a CSA box is fresh veggies, fruits and flowers but some farms also combine with a dairy to provide fresh cheeses or milk. The possibilities are limitless.

I recently got a chance to experience what a CSA box from Ojai's Rio Gozo's Farm looks and tastes like. Rio Gozo translates to River Joy. Located in Ojai's river bottom, they not only grow organic vegetables but lots and lots of joy!

Coming home to see what surprises awaited me on the porch was like sneaking down the stairs in my jammies to look at the bright packages under the Christmas tree. Also, I'd received a text from farmer Johnny Fonteyn saying he'd swing back next week to retrieve the can and his box he left on the porch -- I was so intrigued!

The can with just the right amount of pantina, ehhh rust, was filled to the brim with a technicolor array of snap dragons and yes, they had water in the bottom to keep them fresh for my arrival. Below them was a black plastic box. As I begin to unearth the contents of the box, I was ooohing and ahhhing at each delight!

(The Bounty)

There were gorgeous sunny yellow squash, turnip greens with a tiny slice of turnip still attached, the first orange sungold tomatoes of the season, (that tasted like candy!), a bunch of rainbow swiss chard, shallots, various shades of new potatoes, a bunch of beets + the greens, a cucumber, one blackberry-hued eggplant and a large bunch of cilantro and a bunch of basil. It was an edible wonderland, truly. I arranged the goodies on the porch table, gasping all the while, took a photo and began plotting how to celebrate our abundance just as Chris stepped outside and snatched the cucumber he immediately had plans for when he laid his eyes upon it.

We have our own gardens as most of you know but what was so fun about this experience is that what we received was different than what was currently growing out back. Just like your own cooking, sometimes it's amazing to eat someone else's vegetables, especially when they are organic (did I mention that?) and so incredibly beautiful. Plus, Ojai has a different climate than Ventura so eggplants and cucumbers and tomatoes were already taking off at Rio Gozo while we were staring and pining for ours here in Ventura.

We decided to celebrate the bounty with a friendly challenge. Three friends agreed to come over Thursday night to take part in a cooking challenge. Before they showed up I took all the beautiful bounty and laid it on one end of the table. On the other, I laid out what interesting items I'd found when cleaning out my fridge the night before like shrimp, bacon, mustard seeds, coconut milk, coconut, blueberries, balsamic glaze and one really ripe plum. My friends also brought their miscellaneous items -- Andre champagne, tofu, and a half-eaten chicken carcass to name a few... We were divided into teams and started to take turns choosing our items for each dish.
(Mystery Ingredients)

Team A was drawn to the shrimp and added the plum, flaked coconut, fresh cilantro and some balsamic glaze. Team B started with the shallots, turnip greens, mustard seeds, bacon, eggplant and two tomatoes. Team C was drawn to the beets, sunflower seeds, cilantro, creme fraiche, curry powder, blueberries and balsamic glaze. Team A also later created a simple olive oil pasta with cherry tomatoes, basil and parmesan.(Team A)

We each got cutting boards, knives, pans and bowls and started to create. We laughed, drank wine, watched in amazement and covered all the major topics of the world as people tend to do when cooking together. It was a bit like a crazy Thanksgiving. Too many folks were in the kitchen, too few eyes were cooperating on the stove and lots of laughter ensued.

(Action Shots)

We finally got our dishes together, placed them on the table and toasted our first Iron Chef challenge. We filled our plates, grabbed some wine, and started discussing our creations. Some of them were quite simple in appearance like the greens with bacon crumbled on top and the pasta while others, like the plummy purple shrimp and the blueberry beets were rather unusual yet each incredible in its own way. The most difficult was the judging and we all decided not to choose a winner for that night, it was too difficult!

(Fait Accomplis!)

After our dinner I noticed the beet dish had left odd smudges on each of our plates so we did a Rorschach reading of what each configuration meant and made up our fortunes.

(Rorschach Fortunes)

For the end of the evening I made Chocolate Chip Strawberry Cookies (this recipe plus the addition of crumbled dried strawberries from Trader Joe's), and we helped our friends plant a small herb garden for their new apartment. It was a lovely evening, hopefully the first of many similar ones and wouldn't have happened without the inspiration of the bounty that fell on our porch.

If I weren't in the height of summer in our garden I would order a weekly CSA. I love going to the market but there is something even better having a direct connection with a particular farmer. When you pay in advance for your CSA it's like insuring that farms next season and helps them buy seeds and plant and create your food -- it's a gorgeous symbiosis.

Later that week, Rio Gozo invited their CSA recipients to show up at the farm with a bucket and pick as many snap dragons as they wanted. Last year I remember CSA members and their children going to the farm to help plant corn.

Not many of us have time to have our own organic farms but in essence, with a CSA you can have your own personal stake in one. it's a brilliant solution to knowing you'll have organic food delivered each week.

Consider investigating local CSAs around you, this link shows hundreds if not thousands available. You can enjoy produce that tastes like its meant to, fresh from the earth, support your local farmer and be inspired to host impromptu Iron Chef challenges at your home! All you need is willing friends, appetites and a bit of creativity!

What I Love About My Life: Asparagus = Hope

2010-07-26T00:05:00.000-07:00

DK Crawford © 2010

Nothing says you have hope for the future like planting asparagus. If you plant it from seeds, it take 3 years before you can harvest any fruit. If you use crowns or plants, it takes 2. And an asparagus plant lives for 15-20 years so putting them somewhere means you cannot use that area for anything else for up to two decades!

I have always wanted an asparagus bed but kept putting it off thinking, "That's not the right spot," "It's not the right time," "What if I move?" or even worse, "What if the world implodes?!" ...My fear of committing to asparagus is symbolic for my hesitation to set long-term goals, intertwine roots and look toward the future.

With the world having crisis-upon-crisis and life seeming even more tentative than before, it seems such an odd time to plant something that signifies the coming of springtime and hope and whose very nature signifies a good, long life.

To plant asparagus, you first dig a 6 inch deep trench, then place the plants or crowns in this trench 18-24" apart. As the plants grow, rather than their roots moving solely downward into the soil, the larger rhizomes move laterally and form a strong, webbed, horizontal network. So not only does asparagus symbolize spring and longevity, it also speaks of reaching out and connectivity.

What I love About My Life: Though I hesitated to pay $4 for my asparagus plants, I bought them anyway and part of me felt somewhat naughty. Then, even though I didn't think I had the correct bed ready, I cleared some space in a bed that was available and planted them anyway! I felt wickedly rebellious...

Each step I took toward creating this bed in spite of what logic, circumstance and fear were saying made me feel evermore joyful. With each further action, a secret smile started to form inside me, like I was defying the 'shoulds', 'shouldn'ts" and naysayers.

As I was kneeling, packing fresh dirt around their verdant, fern-like heads I realized, in spite of everything negative I read, I do have hope for the future. There is no way I know if I will be here in 2 years to see the first harvest, let alone enjoying its fruit for 20 but being willing to dedicate space for them and let them weave their tangled, forceful roots together in unity spoke volumes.

As I took a moment to gaze down at my small fuzzy forest, I was filled with love, hope and possibility. This tiny act proved powerful, optimistic parts of me are still alive.

We all have hesitations and concerns about the future that cause us to not commit to moments of joy. It might be as small as tucking away special linens for the future, not hanging a picture, waiting to paint a room or not wanting to commit to putting potted plants on a balcony. Or it might be as large as not making that move you've always longed for, not pursuing the career you secretly dream of or waiting to have a baby.

I am realizing that putting these moments off is delaying joy and perhaps now is the time we need to follow our bliss, now more than ever. Is there some step you can take in your life that might bring you joy? Is there something you're putting off due to fears of the unknown?

What dawned on me yesterday was that I only had that one moment and in that moment, my heart literally fluttered with the ritual of planting my tiny forest. That feeling was so worth the risk and fighting all the shouldn'ts, I wish I'd done it sooner! Even if I never see a single spear, I can now say "I have experienced the joy of planting an asparagus bed!" and that moment alone, not its result, has changed me.

** Sidenote: In researching images of asparagus roots I came upon this image of "Jesus of Asparagus", yes I found hope in planting my small forest but just look what someone found in the roots!

Meridians on Harbor -- eclectic, electric and worldly

2010-07-23T11:07:00.000-07:00

Photos by DK Crawford © 2010

(as published in the VC Reporter)

Meridians on Harbor -- eclectic, electric and worldly
07/22/2010

Meridians Eclectic Eatery
2417 Harbor Blvd.
Ventura
676-1756
Text Ur Order 807-2283
$3.50-$13

I was amazed I hadn’t heard of Meridians Eclectic Eatery before! I’ve shopped at Vons on Harbor and frequented the UPS store two doors down from it; clearly my food radar was broken.

Its interior hosts a world of its own — literally. A giant map of the earth takes an entire side of the restaurant, and on the other hangs a revolving art show featuring local artists. Its ceilings are high with exposed kelly green air ducts. All these elements blended with simple modern wood and metal tables give this cafe the fresh appeal of a science museum.

We placed our order at the deli counter, plucked our drinks from the cooler, (choices of ales, lagers and chilled glasses, too), paid and walked away with a bent playing card on a tray to represent our ticket.

Meridians’ menu is a tad overwhelming for a newcomer, with more than 75 choices of salads, soups, pizzas and pastas. If you haven’t been there, it pays to grab a paper to-go menu, sit down and ponder for a moment rather than standing with your neck crooked trying to take it all in.

Also check out the chalkboards behind the register, where specials like salmon tacos, Philly cheese steak, shrimp ravioli with a roasted red pepper sauce and French onion soup were written.

We sat, listened to the salsa music and looked around. My friend noted New Zealand wasn’t really that far from the U.S. when she studied the huge map, and my other dinner companion commented on the surf photography hanging on the opposite wall.

Even though it isn’t a full service restaurant, the staff is very attentive and seems happy. I learned from my friend that the original owner of Merdians smartly made two of his loyal long-time staff members partial owners. Now he gets to travel more, and the restaurant is filled with devoted folks who have a vested interest in its success.

Our salad arrived first and it was huge! My friend commented that a salad and pizza from Meridians could feed a family of four. I’m not sure that’s completely accurate but the portions are substantial, and our $8 salad easily served three.

Fresh spinach, sliced green apples, walnuts and fine gorgonzola crumbles tossed in a balsamic vinaigrette were a welcome start to our summer lunch. It was lightly dressed and came with three triangles of focaccia.

Next arrived our pizza, sandwich, pasta and fries. Our tiny table became crowded and we commandeered the one next to us. It was late and the crowd had thinned so it worked out perfectly.

Our La Pampa pizza arrived on a silver pedestal. It looked like a cross between a spider web and something that might put you in a trance. It had a thin crust, four cheeses, ham, hearts of palm and a hypnotic swirl of salmon-hued aioli.

My first bite was warm and cheesy with a surprising smoky flavor. As I nibbled, I realized the smoky notes seemed to come from the ham and also that the bottom of the pizza had some darker, lightly burned spots; but they didn’t taste burned, rather more charred and smoked.

The hearts of palm were cut into 3-inch slices. The marinated flavor with the smoke and the sweet of the emulsified aioli was intriguing. It’s a rather unique pizza and very rich; just one slice went a long way.

The sandwich we shared, named the Aloha Cowboy, featured tuna salad, grilled pineapple rings, melted provolone and barbecue sauce. It arrived on a half-circle of thin house-made focaccia. The oven-warm, browned bread was lightly crunchy, and the tuna salad just moist enough to be complemented by the juicy grilled pineapple and melted cheese.

We got our barbecue sauce on the side, and I’m not entirely sure it was even needed. One of my companions liked alternating, having a bite with sauce, then a bite without. Either way, it was the star of our luncheon.

Our pasta, the rigatoni, was the specialty. The fat, ridged noodles were paired with chunks of chicken, broccoli spears and sun-dried tomatoes in a cream sauce. This dish was also quite rich, perfect for sharing, and its flavors melded deliciously. The latte-colored creamy sauce was also somewhat smoky, and the sun-dried tomatoes with chewy, candied acidic notes helped balance it.

The two things we as a group found less than par were the cheesy garlic bread served with the pasta and the sweet potato fries — one of new appetizers. The sweet potato fries have the unusual addition of canela, a special cinnamon used in such dishes as Mexican hot chocolate, and their flavors were delicious. Sadly, however, they were saturated with oil. And the garlic bread had a lovely cornmeal crunch on the bottom, but the toppings were flavorless. These side dishes could stand to be reworked.

Meridans Eclectic Eatery’s name represents it well. It has a pleasant atmosphere full of diverse flavor profiles and a happy staff. Though merely a tiny dot on the huge map of Earth, it offers a world of options and prodigious portions for your dollar.

What I Love About My Life: Golden Alpine Strawberries

2010-07-13T10:27:00.000-07:00

photo by DK Crawford © 2010

Thomas Jefferson grew white (also called golden) Fraises du bois, or strawberries of the woods in his garden. These tiny gems come in both white and red varieties and even stronger musk ones.

As with most wild edibles, these small berries are more flavorful than cultivated varieties. They are less hardy, and don't ship well and when you pick them, they kind of deflate in your hand, but their outstanding flavor makes them so worth growing! They have a distinct aroma that's stronger than the large red strawberries you get at the market. They are an epicure's delight when striving for distinct flavors rather than bulk.

I ordered my itty bitty, (almost need a magnifying glass to see them) "yellow delight "seeds from this online store. The seeds grow easily enough but they take some tending in the beginning as they must stay moist --then they are virtually care-free! I bought six varieties to grow and thus far the golden/white ones took the quickest. And what's more is the birds are tricked by the color so won't destroy them like they do the red berries.

What I Love About My Life: Rustling through my wild strawberry plant when I'm out in the garden and picking a handful to snack on as I go along. They are also excellent in salads, cocktails and sauces. My only complaint is mine never make it beyond the garden into the kitchen -- I simply can't help myself.

Lemon Crepe Cake from Petite Reve Chocolates -- Wonderland In Ventura

2010-07-06T13:24:00.000-07:00

Photos by Chris Jensen © 2010

"One Cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well", was printed one of the boxes handed to me by dessert maven Kate Slaton Dunbar of Petite Reve Chocolates, a dessert and chocolate specialty company in Ventura. Twice I've been handed such boxes and twice-blessed to taste her creations.

The first occurred at the Ventura Produce Exchange, part of the Ventura Produce Cooperative started by Maureen Durkin which meets once a month. People bring anything they have in abundance from their gardens or yards to share and each exchange yields new surprises. This last exchange featured mason jars of fresh-cut herbs, succulents, tons of lavender, beets, carrots, avocados, lettuces, the first huge zucchinis of the season, and flowers. The last also had macadamia nuts (which I didn't even realize grew here!), lots of tomato plant starters, and even an unusual squash variety we used to grow in Louisiana! The cajuns call it mirliton and stuff it with shrimp while Mexicans know it as chayote. I was excited beyond belief, it was a vegetable from home I'd recently thought of trying to grow here!

This produce exchange took place and Kate's house and along with beautiful produce and getting to admire her gardens, we were also treated with tastes of both her spice brownies and her light cayenne brownies and Maureen had made a lovely orange drink with fresh mint to accompany them.

At the moment of the exchange, our home garden were hanging on the edge of mass production and very few things were ready to pick. If it'd been a only a week later, I'd have had much more to share than one mere, (albeit gorgeous), bok choy I walked in with. No one seemed to mind that though, as quickly as I set it down on the table, a lady started pulling leaves off it and putting them in her bag. It's rewarding to have somewhere to share your extra produce and to come home with something new! But little did I know I'd make it home with something much more substantial than a handful of lavender and a bite of brownie...

As Kate brought me into her home, we cruised past her blond twins to her kitchen and she handed me a box that must have weighed 7 pounds. I peaked in to see a lightly yellow-hued cake with dollops of whipped cream and curls of fresh lemon zest on top. It smelled like heaven and weighed a ton! "It's my lemon crepe cake," she explained. "And exactly how many crepes are in it?" I asked? "16-20", she answered.

I left with more bites of spicy brownies to savor and a whole cake to share. I've never taken a review on the road in a box but what a fun concept. For that week, everyone who stopped by got a bite, as did the party of pajama-clad, breakfast-at-night-eating girlfriends I met later that week. Chris and I even got to play with the cake in the studio for a scant second before cutting the first slice. Who knew one bok choy would turn into a cake-filled week of adventures?

Fresh lemon curd and crepes have to be two of the finest creations on earth. The first is tart, creamy, rich and smooth while the crepe is delicate and thin yet substantial. Both are decadent alone but how do they stand piled up together into a cake?

The Crepe Cake, called Gateux de Crepes by the French, can be served as a warm savory, featuring such ingredients as spinach and Gruyere, or as a chilled sweet like Kate does with her lemon curd and her whipped chocolate ganache versions.

The cake itself is simply beautiful. The browned speckles and slight yellow hue of the top crepe were decorated with swirls of creamy white homemade whipped cream and curly cues of lemon zest looked like it was dressed up for a party. Along the edges, each individual crepe made a small ruffled frill as the concoction isn't covered in any icing, just the layers of crepes topped with whipped cream and lemon curd. My fear with the cake was the lemon curd would be overpowering. How can you have 16-20 layers slathered with lemon curd and not pucker?

I cut the cake and it was as beautiful on the inside. The crepes had softened into pliable bites. Kate had recommended I eat it chilled, right out of the fridge, so I did. My first taste was like light, fluffy, lemony and creamy and anything but tart. I had to try another bite and another. By the time Chris got off the phone to try a bite, I was halfway through the first slice and now dismantling it with my fingers to taste it in peeled layers, crepe-by-crepe. He quizzically looked at me and realized I wasn't going to share after all so went to cut his own slice.

I watched him take his first bite. He does not care for tart like I do so I was curious what he would think. "That's some good stuff Maynard!" came out of his mouth. "Yup, yup, that there's some mighty good stuff Maynard!" he gleefully repeated over and over between bites. I think I've heard this expression perhaps twice? in the time I've known him. He only says it when he goes into this blissful place unselfconscious place. The crepe cake had brought out that soft underbelly of the male we rarely see, like some National Geographic expose'.

I implored him to join me in peeling off the layers one-by-one and eating them decadently with our hands. It's so much fun! but we noticed when you do it, you taste less of the lemon curd. It appeared that the curd was concentrated more in the center and the whipped cream around the outer edges. The lemon zest was a necessary and welcome crunchy punch, like flavor crystals to enhance the delicate bites.

I did find though, upon trying my second bite that I prefer eating the crepe cake after it's come to room temperature rather than straight out of the fridge. The crepes are both quite filling, (really one piece at a time is plenty!), but they were just substantial enough to chill my entire core after eating a cold piece. After my first piece and wanted a warm cup of tea.

Throughout the week I got to share bites with a hungry teen just learning to surf, her mother, a self-professes crepe fanatic and an entire room of pajama-clad women; sailors to entrepreneurs, chocoholics to dog whisperers and I listened to their comments. "Delicate, delicious, different, amazing, oh my god! and unique," were a few. Everyone wanted to know where it came from, it was truly the perfect cake for a party of discerning gals and really how often do you serve something that has a man bear his soft underbelly?

"curiouser and curiouser", Alice in Wonderland

What I didn't realize about the party I was attending was the theme was Alice in Wonderland and we ended the evening watching the movie on a large pull-down screen. As we huddled in the dark together, curled up on couches in our jammies watching Alice grow taller upon nibbling the "Eat Me" Cake I realized how much sharing surprise cake throughout the week with various friends had similarly expanded my world. Luckily I hadn't eaten so much myself as to grow beyond the size of my peignoir but I certainly had created more shared memories with people than I would have. Interestingly enough, Petite Reve literally translates into "small dreams", if this community of sharing and learning about food is indeed a dream, like Alice, I'm not sure I ever want to wake. Thanks Kate!

Petite Reve Chocolates (805)258-9472

Rice Thai Cuisine -- Ventura CA

2010-07-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

Photos by: Wesley Bauman /WBI. (c)2010
(first photo features Thai Iced Tea and Meang Khrum, second a soju martini)

as originally posted in the VC Reporter

Spicing up Downtown Ventura with hidden surprises
By D.K. Crawford 07/01/2010

Rice Thai Cuisine
387 E. Main St.
Ventura
641-3573
$3-17

Rice Thai Cuisine’s interior is crisp and zen — more like a restaurant you’d find in Santa Monica than Ventura. Due to the layout and simplicity, the interior feels worlds away from its predecessor, Cholada.

They’ve opened up the center and put long banquets on either side. Light pine tables are dressed with white plates and apple-green chopsticks.

Containers of living grass and green and white mums make the space feel alive, and an off-white curtain running down one side softens the space.

The menu is chic and straightforward. It offers classics like stir fries, red, green and yellow curries, drunken noodles and pad Thai but also more unusual choices.

The deep-fried beef jerky immediately commanded my attention, as did the corn cakes (a vegetarian version of fish cakes). I was also drawn to the mussaman curry (sweet and sour) and a pineapple and tomato red curry.

The specialties range from Siamese sizzling spare ribs to deep-fried catfish, a dish named “tofu party” and basil mussels.

Rather than a wine list, you get one for hot tea blends such as wild blueberry, apple blossom and decaffeinated strawberry cherry.

There were also wines, beers and sake and a selection of soju (a distilled rice liquor similar to vodka), martinis and cocktails. We tried the lychee ginger-pear martini with a strawberry sugar rim and the cucumber ginger with the lemon-lime sugar rim.

Both martinis took a while, but our waitress explained they are just learning how to make them. They were lightly sweet, subtly flavored essences with tart, sugary punches of fluorescent-bright flavorful crystals around the rims that resembled Pop Rocks.

Our waitress for the night (part of the family operating the restaurant) had helped create the menu. Her descriptions were precise and helpful.

We decided to sample the meang khum and the deep-fried beef jerky appetizers as well as the pla goong, a shrimp salad featured that night.

As we waited for our appetizers, we noted that nothing but boy-band songs were coming out of the speakers. Simultaneously, King of the Hill played on the television above the bar as a digital screen played slideshows of Thai dishes. The entertainment selections we found to be less than zen.

Our plates arrived all at once and were, on the whole, beautiful, generous portions. Admittedly, the plate of deep-fried beef jerky wasn’t going to win “most photogenic”— dark, curled pieces of meat are just hard to dress up, even on a bed of carrots and lettuce. But the other dishes were stunning, particularly the meang khrum.

Ours came on fresh lettuce leaves, though usually served on spinach. On top of the leaves were diced shallots, cooked shrimp, lime, toasted coconut, cashew nuts and a chili. You drizzle it with a viscous, sweet tamarind sauce and pop it in your mouth in one complete bite.

That first taste was amazing. The sweet shallots, coconut and sauce mixed with the lime, shrimp and the cool lettuce leaf. It was oh-so-incredibly delicious I could hardly wait until the next bite! Then a tiny dormant volcano ignited in my mouth. My eyes became liquid pools and my companion noted I was “crying” at the table.

The waitress had mentioned meang khum contained a hidden surprise. I watched as my companion took a bite and started downing his water.

The fire was so intense that I decided to dig into my next bite to find the culprit. There it lay, well hidden beneath the lovely pile of innocuous ingredients, the tiniest piece of a fresh green Thai chili with its seeds intact. Like cowards, we removed the chilies from our next bites and cried no further tears.

The deep-fried jerky is sirloin that’s marinated, sliced, then deep fried. According to our waitress, it’s a snack often served with beer in Thailand. It’s a bit chewy, though not like jerky you’d find here, and it has a sweet, soy, teriyaki flavor. The dipping sauce it came with was spicy and flavored much like sriracha.

The shrimp salad was glorious. The shrimp were cut in half before being grilled. Crisp lettuce, cashew nuts and green onions were all dressed with a light lime dressing with a hint of fish sauce. This is a salad I must have again!

Our entrée, Crying Tiger, arrived. It’s listed on the menu as marinated beef with an Esan spicy dipping sauce, sticky rice and apple slaw. My companion took a bite of the sticky rice, some of the raw grated apple slaw and a piece of the marinated beef. Then he desperately grabbed his water.

He thought the culprit was the dipping sauce but I failed to find its real heat. Upon further investigation, I discovered several pieces of the same tiny fresh chilies and their seeds mixed into the apple slaw — behold, another hidden surprise!

Our dessert, the Chan(n)el Island Surprise, was something built for a snow queen. Fluffy, white, cool, coconut ice cream atop warm, sweet, sticky rice, surrounded with chewy cubes of coconut jelly and gelatinous sugar palm seeds topped with crispy coconut. It cooled our mouths, soothed our stomachs and was fun to eat.

Rice Thai Cuisine is zen with zing. The atmosphere is serene, the entertainment mixed, and the food full of unusual textures and tastes — a true adventure! Just make sure you always have a full glass of water, and be prepared for hidden surprises!

www.thefoodsavant.blogspot.com

Olallieberry Tea-Infused Cupcakes

2010-06-29T19:01:00.000-07:00

Chris brought home giant, extremely ripe olallieberries, black mission figs, the sweetest blueberries I've ever tasted and more Gaviota Strawberries from the Farmers Market. All are delicious! but since we lost a bunch of cherries last week, I am jumping on using these so we don't miss this small, fleeting window of opportunity as Olallieberries have a very short growing season!

I found this recipe for Olallieberry White Tea Cupcakes and began changing it within the first two ingredients. Instead of white tea, I infused whole organic milk with Twinings Earl Grey Black Tea with Bergamot and a Tazo Wild Sweet Orange Tea. I only infused the milk for 30 minutes rather than an hour. I also used only 3/4 cup of sugar instead of one cup and used brown sugar. Finally, I didn't fuss so much about how I added the ingredients together. I sifted and added the dry in one bowl, beat the eggs and added the liquids in another then blended them all.

These cupcakes are delightfully fluffy and not overly sweet. The huge olallieberry in the center of each makes this impressive flavorful punch. The teas I infused them with are incredible with these berries, matter-of-fact, I didn't care for drinking the Tazo tea nearly as much as I like it perfuming my baked goods! A beautiful first experiment into the world of tea-infused cupcakes!

Olallieberry White Tea Cupcakes

makes 12 cupcakes

1/2 cup milk

1 tablespoon white tea leaves or other tea

1 1/2 cups flour

1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup butter, room temperature

1 cup sugar

1 egg + 1 egg white

1 pint berries

Bring the milk just to a boil and pour over the tea leaves. Let steep for about an hour or more, depending on the intensity of flavor you want.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a muffin tin with cupcake liners.

Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt together into a bowl and set aside.

Beat the butter and sugar together in a mixer on medium until light and fluffy.

Add in the egg and beat until combined. Add in the egg white and beat until combined.

Add in the flour mixture and milk in five alternating additions, starting and ending with the flour mixture. Let each addition combine fully on low speed before adding the next one. After the final addition, let the flour just combine before stopping.

Divide the batter among the muffin cups. Press a few berries into each cupcake.

Bake for about 20-25 minutes, rotating halfway through, until the cupcakes are lightly golden.

Mississippi Goddam: Reflections on the Deepwater Horizon Blowout and America's Response

2010-06-25T15:33:00.000-07:00

Mississippi Goddam title borrowed from Nina Simone

Can't you see it
Can't you feel it
It's all in the air
I can't stand the pressure much longer
Somebody say a prayer...

Lord have mercy on this land of mine
We all gonna get it in due time
I don't belong here
I don't belong there
I've even stopped believing in prayer...

Oh but this whole country is full of lies
You're all gonna die and die like flies
I don't trust you any more...

from Mississippi Goddamn

**These words are from the lyrics of Mississippi Goddam, as performed in the video above by Nina Simone. It was written in response to how long it too for African Americans to gain civil rights. (Hopefully Ms. Simone wouldn't mind me borrowing part of her brilliant song in light of the current situation.)

America, are we done?

It's day 66 of the Deepwater Horizon oil catastrophe and today the oil has made its way into the Mississippi Sound, an area which had somehow avoided much of the oily assault the rest of the gulf coast has seen. The oil will make land on the beaches in the next two-three days unless an encroaching storm in the gulf builds to hurricane strength and helps it come faster. After hitting the beaches it will also began to seep into Mississippi's wetlands and marshes. It will finish off what Katrina started.

I hesitate to post this because as Chris said, "If you're giving up hope, then it must really be hopeless". I am the eternal optimist and I always hold out hope for the positive, the love and the light to shine through situations but today I have had enough. All the information I have gathered over the last few months has started to meld together like the oil mixing with the dispersants into a sickly, toxic stew. What I am hearing doesn't make sense to me and I have to face that perhaps this is it, maybe we're done.

From the beginning of the Deepwater Horizon Blowout, I knew it was ugly. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I first heard they couldn't get through the horrible weather to attempt to rescue the 11 missing workers that day. I had a visceral, almost electric response again when I heard about the oil coming in to shore with no plan to handle it. Then again, I felt a similar response when I heard about the use of the dispersant Corexit, the one that had been banned in the UK.

In the beginning, friends tried to comfort me saying I shouldn't let things like this get me down, that the oceans would repair themselves, that we'd had far worse leaks than this in the world. I remember sitting in a restaurant the night the first oil made land. I was surrounded by friends yet felt completely alone and helpless. I tried to listen to their comforting words but everything inside me wanted to get on a plane, fly home and mobilize forces to take care of this mess that was about to usurp my native soil. I felt like a canary, the only one who could smell the gasses. I'm sure that's how people on the coast are feeling right now as they dose themselves with yet another round of antibiotics to deal with yet another mysterious respiratory illness and try to ignore the stench of oil and the haze thickening their air supply.

"I am not an abandoner", I wrote to a friend today. But this morning I woke with an urgent desire to flee our beloved country. As the fish and mammals of the gulf are swimming to find more oxygenated water or preen oil off their wings, I too want to run away from what is making no sense. The hairs on my neck/intuitional responses have started to combine with a sinking pit-in-my-stomach feeling that something is very very wrong. First came the "Oh shit, this is bad" knowledge but now the "this is rotten and not making a lick of sense" feelings have made themselves known.

How is it that BP is running this show and we have no authority of what happens in our waters? Our EPA (finally) told BP to stop using dispersants and BP simply refused. How is that possible? BP is buying our media, controlling access to OUR beaches, waterways and fly space and we allow it? They are choosing what they think is important to have cleaned (for the public & press to see). They are also putting American workers at extreme risk by making them jump through hoops to use respirators or potentially denying them access to them because they don't want it to "appear" there is a problem? And the coastal towns having dispersants sprayed over them at night who are suffering --how is THAT being allowed? If we can't control what chemicals they spew into our water and we can't protect our citizens isn't something terribly wrong?

Something is indeed wrong, or dare I say sick in America. Some say it's religiously motivated, others politically and others financially -- that the payoffs are keeping us from acting outright as a country. There are conspiracy theories out there to beat the band and usually I don't fall prey to them but I am starting to wonder. There must be some reason our own country isn't protecting itself, its assets and its people, right?

So the hairs on my neck continue to stand on end with the use of the dispersants, the knowledge of high concentrations of methane gasses pumping out of the well, and the fact this well is sitting on a huge cavernous reservoir and perhaps seismic faults. I am concerned about people swimming and having their children swim in oil and chemically concentrated water, breathing gasses and fumes, the potential of gasses evaporating into the clouds and bringing toxic rain, our water supplies being tainted and eating what may or may not be ultimately safe to consume. And of course my heart is on the floor when I think about the massive killings of the animals. Those horrific images that make so many of us cry really do speak for the micro-organisms, birds, fish, reptiles and mammals better than we can.

No, I am not an abandoner but when I feel unsafe and like my country and my government either don't have the power, don't have the smarts or the desire to act in my and others' best interest, I wonder if I want to be here.

The initial disaster is one thing. Not being able to plug it another. But not protecting American citizens, not getting the real information out to them, letting BP continue to spray toxic chemicals even though our primary government agency for environmental health has demanded they stop, letting them rule the waterways and airspace, not giving respirators to our fisherman and other workers, & BP cleaning up only what they see fit is simply beyond comprehension. What have we come to?!

American is already in a tentative place financially between bailouts, the housing market crash, our wars and inflation. We have another round of mortgage defaults coming down the pipe, wall street is wobbling, credit card and student loan defaults are still on the horizon and we're just waiting for N. Korea to get any itchier so we can, as promised, defend S. Korea. Not to mention our borders are heating up to boiling with Mexico's drug wars.

And now the most dangerous thing has happened of all, we as a country are turning against ourselves. We are all so busy fighting for one side or another and polarizing, we've forgotten we're all in this together. If we don't stop pointing fingers and start finding holistic solutions, it truly will be too late. Somehow we must find the internal fortitude to protect and harbor our own.

If I were a country who hated America, I would look at the state we are in and use it against us. We are crawling on our knees and it won't take much more to strike us down entirely physically or financially. We need leadership, we need answers and we need to pull together.

My History: I was born in Louisiana and raised between there and the Gulf Coast of Mississippi in Ocean Springs. I lost a house to Katrina and have a coastal property that will undoubtedly have oil throughout its marshlands in the near future. My heart pours out to my homeland in this tragedy.

Learn to Properly Use Your Body When You Garden - Workshop This Weekend

2010-06-17T17:14:00.000-07:00

"Lift with your legs!" Your legs, not your back!" "Stop!!" "There you go again, lifting with your back!" my father yelled at me almost daily when I worked alongside him on our farm. I was young and only half-listened, even though he'd had more than one hernia and I'd attended him after a painful surgery to repair one. I was a snotty teen who thought she knew more than the next person and my body could take relentless pounding in my youth and always seemed to recover.

Not so as I've aged, things are different. When I garden, and exert myself, I feel it. When I do something wrong, I know it -- sometimes for a month or more! Injuries can happen quickly in the garden, especially when you're tired.

Just three weeks ago I became unsteady and stepped backwards onto rusty shears and spent my Sunday afternoon getting a tetanus shot rather than completing a bed. And a few months ago, Chris injured his foot while digging holes to plant fruit trees, and gave himself a plantar fasciitis injury, (from stepping on the wrong part of his foot when he pushed the shovel into hard ground), that has yet to fully heal. And sometimes I spend so much time bent over weeding or planting that I feel like the "crooked little man who walked a crooked mile" that straightening out takes a while and I wonder if I'll ever be fully upright again!

Enter Ann of Love House Dahlias who recently sent me an email about a class she's having on her farm. I had the pleasure to write about Ann's magical dahlia farm for Ventana Monthly about a year ago. With thousands and thousands of holes that must be dug yearly for dahlias and plants that are weeded and tended, as well as her own tentative back she must watch out for, she knows a thing about the importance of body mechanics. She told me Michael Curran who works with her has trained other workers on the farm how to properly use their bodies and they've seen far less injuries. Just what I need to learn!

Gardening is becoming very popular and even necessary to some as a way to supplement their diets. Just as we need to use the proper tools to break the ground, so do we need to know how to use our bodies so we don't break them! Below is the information, join me!

Proper use of your best gardening tool - Your Body!

June 19, 2010 We all know that gardening is a great way to get some exercise, but sometimes it can be a pain - literally! - in the back, the hands, the shoulders, hips, knees, or even the feet. All of your tools are designed to be used in a certain way, and your body is no different! Do you still have your user's manual? Did you even get one?! This fun and entertaining class IS your user's manual for mechanically-correct gardening. Learn what "using your legs instead of your back" actually means. Learn to listen to what you body is telling you - which pains are GOOD and which ones are BAD. Michael Curran is a certified Restorative Exercise Specialist and Ayurvedic Medicine Practitioner. He developed this class after two years on the farm, where he has trained dozens of farm workers how to work all day and stay healthy and strong. 10 A.M. 1 hour. $20.00 per person. Reservations needed. Refreshments included. Call 805-648-6808

Food Films at the Los Angeles Film Festival 2010!

2010-06-17T12:12:00.000-07:00

Mr. Okra/ film still from LA Film Festival Website

Nothing better than vittles on the big screen and this weekend in LA 6/17-6/27, there are a handful of great films being served up at the Los Angeles Film Festival!

Also, for those food-inclined, La Restaurants are having all sorts of specials and discounts that coincide with the festival so hold onto your ticket, pass or stub so you can partake!

Udon, , playing 6/19 @4 pm is listed as "a high-spirited comic ode to the power of Japan's Ubiquitous noodle." It will be presented by Jonathan Gold, restaurant critic for the LA Weekly, contributor to Good Food and This American Life and author of Counter Intelligence: Where to Eat in the Real Los Angeles.

Friday 6/18 @ 9:45 & Sunday 6/20 @ 10 pm, Bitter Feast will be screened. Written and directed by Joe Maggio, Bitter Feast is a dark tale of a food blogger who upsets a chef's destiny with one bad review. It's a bloody tale of revenge.

Dumdumdum: Audio Food, plays as 5 min. part of Big In Japan: A Selection of Japanese Music Videos which is 87 min in its entirety.

And Mr. Okra is part of a shorts program that airs 6/19 @ 1:45 and 6/25 @ 10:15 pm. It follows the story of an "iconic" New Orleans food vendor who "peddles his wares from a brightly painted truck".

A Family, is the story of an elite family of master bakers, (chosen to bake for the royal family), whose gets offered the job of a lifetime as a museum curator in New York and how that tests the family. It plays 6/19 @7 pm. 6/20 @ 1:30 pm & 7/23 @ 4:45 pm.

Kings of Pastry plays 6/26 @ 7:15. Watch 16 of France's top pastry chefs in a "mouth-watering" competition for the coveted collar of the Meilleurs Ouvriers de France.

Sugar Bear's Cupcake Shack -- Ventura CA

2010-06-14T14:58:00.001-07:00

photos by DK Crawford, key used to give an idea of size

I am $6 lighter and two cupcakes heavier. Today I popped into the new cupcake shack in Ventura for a sweet treat. It's in the El Jardin courtyard at 451 E. Main St., part of the old location of Zoey's downtown. It's owned by the same folks who brought We Olive to Ventura.

The place is small and sweet, bedecked in pink. A delightful teen helped me and was really fluent in information about Sugar Bear's.

They had 6 cupcake flavors today: Vanilla, Strawberry, Chocolate, Red Velvet, Lemon and a Cinnamon Butter Cream Cupcake, their signature cupcake named the Sugar Bear. Cupcakes are $3 a piece and they also have small mixed dozens of mini cupcakes available for $21.

All the cupcakes look pretty simple and begged the question of what makes them gourmet? I was told they use local ingredients, specifically olive oils from We Olive, local oranges and lemons, more natural ingredients and they aren't overly sweet. They plan on creating seasonal flavors as well as special vegan cupcakes. I bought a chocolate cupcake with olive oil and the signature Sugar Bear to try.

The cupcakes are medium sized and travelled well in their plastic cupcake container. As Chris watched me take them out of the container, he said he thought the prices were high for their size. "I expect them to taste like heaven on earth," he mumbled as I was slicing the knife through, making bite-sized wedges.

First smell of the Sugar Bear signature cupcake was pure butta. The cake itself was light and airy and delicate and yes, not overly sweet while the icing was buttery with a hint of sour cream. The icing itself was quite sweet -- sweet enough to make me cough when I got a good bite of it. But it was really tasty and had flavors I could lose myself in for a while -- like a decadent summer day.

"It's pretty damn good," surmised Chris. "If I were at a wedding and they had these, I'd have more than one." I looked at him suspiciously "Chris, you'd have more than one no matter what!" He agreed and said, "Ok, you're right, maybe I'd have more than two!" We laughed and moved on to the chocolate.

It smelled like a rich, fudgy brownie. When I pushed the knife through it, it was effortless until I hit something hard in the center. I pulled out the knife a bit and a dark chocolate chip fell out. The chocolate cupcake was very very rich and intense. Made with olive oil, the intensity of the flavor carries through each bite. The cake itself was denser than the Sugar Bear and the chocolate crumbles a bit messy as they tended to fall out of the bottom into the paper cup underneath rather than stay part of the bites. Both cupcakes were difficult to try to take pieces of which only shows how tender they were.

The chocolate is perfect for those moments when you're going to bite someone's head off if you don't get chocolate n-o-w! We enjoyed it but ultimately finished the Sugar Bear together and left half of the chocolate because it was too much, too rich.

Having opened just last week, Sugar Bear's is still finding its feet as a new business. The cupcakes were humble in appearance and the flavors, all fairly predictable so far, were limited. The Sugar Bear Cinnamon Cupcake was the most unique and it was delicious. As they've just opened, I know they are keeping it simple for now. They do have some great starts with the local idea and keeping the cakes themselves not too too sweet. I haven't come to a conclusion about them yet, I'll keep watching.

Meanwhile, here are thoughts on two other cupcake makers in Ventura I've tried.

Michelle Michelle's Couture Cupcakery Cupcakes are full of flavor and punch and are artistically presented, like small, jeweled packages. Her flavors are terribly exciting and varied -- tart, sweet, spicy, you name it, it comes through the compact cupcakes. The Jeter Jeter Pumpkin Eater, Cup of Lemonade and After Dinner Mint are a few of my favorites. I could order different cupcakes from her for every occasion or season and never tire. I wrote about her for Ventana and spent a few months trying to sample all her flavors. They are hard to beat.

Also SHoCAKES, formerly sold at Cooke's Smokehouse, (currently figuring out where her next cupcake home will be), are large, sloopy, messy orgasmic madness in the form of a cupcake. I remember trying to cut them into pieces to share at a party and instead I made an icing, cupcakey stew on the plate but that stopped no one. Her Smores and Peanut Butter n Jelly Cupcakes were as close to bathing in cupcakes as I've ever come. They're large, indulgent and a blast!

Review of the Ojai Beverage Company

2010-06-10T09:42:00.000-07:00

Photo by: Wesley Bauman /WBI. (c)2010 as printed in the VC Reporter

Ojai Beverage Company, to beer-finity and beyond!
By D.K. Crawford 06/10/2010

Ojai Beverage Company
655 E. Ojai Ave.
Ojai
646-1700
$3-19

“Arrogant Bastard, Bikini Blonde,” my companion muttered behind me, sounding like he had Tourette’s as we walked to the back of the Ojai Beverage Company. “Weed!” he exclaimed, then stopped and innocently pointed to a bottle. And sure enough, there it was in the cooler, Weed Ale.

With the copious types of beer (more than 750), wine (1000+), liquors and hard liquor we passed just walking from the door to the bar, and their cheeky names, it was hard to even begin to concentrate on food.

We sussed out the seating. There was a high-ceilinged, adobe-roofed patio in back, still warm from the heat of the day. The patio tables were spread out and felt romantic and removed. Inside amongst the bottles, the tables were squeezed closer together, and an upbeat crowd vibed to Nine Inch Nails, Radiohead and Sublime. We chose to sit at the bar tables and gaze over the sea of bottles.

If you can’t find what you want on the drink menu, feel free to browse the stacks. But we found fun almost immediately in the form of flights of beer and wine. We shared three 5-ounce pours of beer for $6: St. Louis Peach Cider, Wyder’s Pear Cider and Old Rasputin Stout Beer. Chupacabras Pale Ale from Baja was also on tap.

As our beer arrived, we asked for water a second time. The bartender, also our waiter, was very descriptive and friendly but certainly more focused on getting us drinks rather than bringing us water. It took a total of three requests and about 35 minutes for two glasses of tap.

The cider/beer flight arrived expeditiously, sparkling in small cylindrical glasses. The white pear cider was slightly tart, fresh, clear and bubbly. The golden peach cider had more rounded fruit flavors, and the chocolaty, thick Rasputin was intense and delicious. One of the Ojai Beverage Company’s signature dessert offerings uses this unique beer in a float, along with vanilla ice cream and a chocolate chip cookie.

Our dishes started to arrive on large square and rectangular white plates. First thought, “Fun presentations!” Second thought, “Generous portions.” The buffalo chicken on endive leaves appetizer was quite spicy and generously sprinkled with blue cheese and bacon. The flavors were exciting but the chicken was chewy, not moist.

With dinner, we shared the interesting reds wine flight: four 1-ounce pours for $10. It started with a young, vibrant malbec from the Loire Valley and ended with a robust blend of five wines from Lebanon. There was a charbono and another multiple blend in between. There were sour, smooth and smoky sips, but that final wine, a full-bodied 2000 Chateau Kafraya from Lebanon, is one I’d like to experience again.

My companion first tasted the Ensalada Helene that comprised arugula, shaved and roasted beets, and caramelized onion topped with thin slices of tri-tip. It was dressed with walnut oil and a balsamic glaze. “It’s delicate,” he commented — truly the last thing I expected to hear about a steak salad. Though the tri-tip was well-done, it was fork tender; and because elements were shaved or thinly sliced, it was indeed delicate. There were also sugary walnuts and sharp cheese crumbles that, together with the beets, onions and peppery arugula, were blissful.

Next we sampled the Leaning Tower of Caesar, a beautifully displayed, deconstructed salad with a twist. Two huge Parmesan tuilles starring as croutons were canted at an angle. On either side of them were sliced, crunchy romaine hearts, sun-dried tomatoes and ripe avocados, all drizzled with a creamy, cheesy Caesar dressing. In the center of the salad sat two gorgeous anchovies that would make a Roman emperor proud. What’s fun about deconstructed food is that every bite is different. What’s frustrating is that it’s hard to get all the intended flavors to blend; and though the presentation was such great fun, the flavors never fully melded for me.

We also tried the three-taco trio (part of a special menu) for $5. Each was folded into two white-corn tortillas. The pork shoulder carnitas, slowly braised in orange juice and Coca-Cola, was by far our favorite. The meat was tangy and moist and had crunchy, crispy caramelized edges. The cubed arrachera skirt steak taco was also tasty with more savory flavors. The third taco, chicken with sautéed peppers, onions and mango-avocado salsa, was tasty, but not the star of the plate. The specials were a highlight — simple, fresh and each flavorfully unique.

Finally, we ended the meal with the Crème Brewlee. Each week they take a classic crème brulée and infuse a different beer into it. This week we lucked out — the beer was Young’s Double Chocolate Stout. Each bite tasted like the richest mocha you’ve had; and if you waited a minute or so between bites, you could feel the burn of the stout at the back of your throat. This dish was something my companions and I are still talking about a week later.

At the end of our evening, we felt transported. The presentations, the eclectic beer and wine flights and specials all added layers of interest to what was already a new menu and dining experience. There is something cosmopolitan about being surrounded by so many offerings from around the globe. It is Ojai, yes, but it’s an epicurious gateway for oenophiles and zythophiles to what lies beyond.

Cherry Chocolate Clafoutis

2010-05-19T10:05:00.000-07:00

Pronounced Cla-foo-tee; The name of the dessert comes from from the verb clafir, meaning "to fill"

My friend Wendie who was visiting brought us a bag of Bing Cherries. I have wanted to make a cherry clafoutis for a few years and now was my chance. I found a recipe, adulterated it and it was lovely. This dish would be excellent with strawberries or plums and the addition of nuts. I cannot wait for the plums on the tree to ripen!

Clafoutis puffs up in the oven a bit like a souffle and starts to drop not long after you begin cutting it. It's fluffy somewhat like a warm angel's food cake full of air pockets. Wendie said it reminds her of German pancakes. It's delicate, celebratory and a breeze to make!

For more intense flavors, don't pit the cherries but if you are a dental chicken you might so your guests won't run the risk of cracking a molar. If you want more of a boozy flavor, add a touch of cointreau, grand marnier, kirsch or amaretto to the batter. We added cointreau to the cooking cherries and it burned off so we couldn't hardly notice the flavor though we did see some lovely darker swirls when it baked.

I made it in a black iron skillet. You could also use a 9" baking pan, square or round.

*try not to open the oven door much or slam it while it is baking as it will fall.

Ingredients:
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt (if you're using unsalted butter)
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons organic sugar
3/4 cup milk (if using liquor, I would use a touch less milk and substitute the liquor)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 pound fresh sweet cherries, pitted (or not for more intense flavor)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter (if you have salted, just don't add the salt listed above)
1 tablespoon organic sugar
1/4 cup of organic semi-sweet chocolate chips
cointreau, amaretto, kirsh or another liquor if desired

Garnish:
Powdered Sugar (shake in a sifter)
yogurt, whipped cream, creme fraiche or vanilla ice cream

Directions:
Heat oven to 425 degrees F and place rack in center of oven.

In blender mix milk, flour, salt (only if you're using unsalted butter), eggs, 2 tablespoons sugar, vanilla extract & a liquor if you're using any. Pulse for a few seconds and scrape down sides with spatula. Once mixed, let batter rest while preparing cherries.

Pit cherries over a bowl, keeping all the juices that fall out.

In a heavy skillet, melt butter over medium heat and use it to coat sides and bottom of skillet. Pour in cherries and sautee until their color starts to lightly change and they are coated with butter, around 3 minutes. Add in 1 tablespoon of sugar and mix until sugar has dissolved into syrup. Pour batter over the cherries and sprinkle in chocolate chips. Cook about 20 minutes, my oven had me cook it longer more like 26 minutes. The dish should look set, puffed and the edges browned.

Serve immediately as it starts to fall the minute it begins to cool.

Review of 394 Restaurant and Lounge Ventura, CA

2010-05-13T13:35:00.000-07:00

Photo by: Wesley Bauman /WBI. (c)2010

As printed in VC Reporter

394 Restaurant and Lounge does the tapas twist
By D.K. Crawford 05/13/2010

394 Restaurant and Lounge
394 E. Main St.
Ventura
667-2120
$4-$22

394 Restaurant and Lounge (formerly Riviera Bistro) is bringing Latin spice to Main Street. What was once a saunter down the Côte d’Azur has shifted tempo into an upbeat Latin groove.

The place was packed at lunchtime. As I moved from the front to the back, the crowd changed. By the time I got to the bar, “All business in the front, and a party in the back,” the ’80s tagline about mullet haircuts, popped into my mind.

Businessmen doing deals crowded the patio; couples sharing bites took the tables in the front and the bar had the raucous, social lunchtime drinkers hanging out together. It was several worlds in one.

The menu is almost completely different, though you will see a few flashbacks to Riviera Bistro. There is still the rich, sumptuous lobster bisque with sherry, the Buena Ventura salad featuring roasted beets, and there are a handful of familiar entrees. They kept the favorites. But most of the menu is brand, spanking new.

394 serves tapas ranging in price from $5.50 to $7.95, or you can choose three to share for $14.95. Choices range from dressed-up savory potato wedges to mango shrimp ceviche or brie, pear and apple compotes.

394 also serves several “signature burgers”: two Kobe burgers ($14, $15), or certified Angus beef (CAB) burgers ranging from $9 for the basic to $15 for two trees with double patties, double fillings and double cheese. It also serves shrimp, tuna, chicken and pulled pork sandwiches. There are also salads and entrees. One intriguing choice is the Grande Quesadilla Especial, a 16-inch tortilla filled with your choice of chicken, shrimp, flank steak or pulled pork.

The interior remains familiar, yet spots of Spackle on the walls show there is remodeling in progress. The color scheme for now is still cranberry, mustard and avocado hues. The stage is gone, and now couches are scattered about, creating cozy seating areas. It’s part restaurant, part lounge vibe.

The CD sounded like a Latin jukebox. My waiter wore a tracksuit with charcoal velour pants and moved like a slinky through the dining room. He looked like a tennis pro and sported a pearly white smile.

He wasn’t the most observant waiter (he forgot to bring me a menu), but what he lacked, he made up for in kindness and a genuine desire to please. He’s the kind of person you just feel better being around. If I’d been in a terrible rush, I might have been flustered by things moving more slowly, but instead I took the opportunity to relax on a Friday afternoon.

I couldn’t resist the tapas. I ordered the trio of tuna on fire, Cabana chicken and al pastor with pork. I also ordered the La Rumba salad and a build-your-own CAB burger with my additions, maple wood bacon and Gorgonzola cheese.

The tapas and burger arrived simultaneously in 15 minutes. There were six servings of tapas (two of each variety), nestled in individual crispy tortilla triangles.

The Cabana chicken featured tequila-sautéed chicken with cilantro and roasted green peppers. Its flavors were comforting, mild and full. If it were a dance, it’d be the rumba, slow and mellow. The next bite was al pastor, marinated pork with diced tomatoes and chopped strips of lettuce, drizzled with a chipotle sauce. It was the zesty, exciting cha-cha-cha of the trio that woke my mouth up. The marinated pork tasted like citrus and the dressing like a spiced thousand island. The final tapa, tuna on fire, featured spicy tuna, fresh mango, diced tomato and avocado with slices of chilled cucumber on top. It’s the hot, spicy, crunchy merengue dance of the group. The three worked in harmony together, and their crispy, warm tortilla shells complemented the soft, warm fillings. I would certainly order the tapas again.

The burger came with the choice of sweet potato fries, patatas bravas or organic salad. I sampled both potato options. The patatas bravas were thick, crispy-edged wedges sprinkled with a hint of cheese and drizzled with the chipotle dressing (also the signature sauce on the burgers). The sweet potato fries were thinner, crunchy, salty and sweet and just simply amazing. Both were yummy for different reasons.

The burger was perfectly cooked and oh so juicy. Its potato bun was lightly sweet, and the maple bacon was cooked so it had crispy edges and a softer center. They were generous with the Gorgonzola cheese and the sharp combined with the sweet and salty is one of my favorite combinations.

The Rumba salad appeared about eight minutes later and was the only ho-hum of my dining experience. It featured romaine, avocado, roasted green peppers, crumbles of queso fresco and tortilla strips with a lime cilantro dressing. It had so much promise but, sadly, its lackluster dressing left it flat. If it had had the same zip the marinade and sauces had, it would have worked beautifully.

Besides a new theme, menu and vibe, 394 hosts a Sunday “Funday” brunch with endless mimosas and live music. The brunch features crepes stuffed with scrambled eggs, chorizo or jamon. Honestly, the fillings sound more like a heavier burrito or calzone rather than crepes but apparently they are a hit.

If you like sampling small plates and eating fancy burgers in a local restaurant with a smooth Latin vibe, 394 might be your new spot. Most of the food I tried was delightfully flavorful and well-prepared. As some of the bar crowd left, they called out to those who remained that they’d be back later that night. As I stepped out into the light, most of the lunch crowd was gone but the “party in the back” raged on.

www.thefoodsavant.blogspot.com

The Day Before I Saw Food Inc, Am I Really Ready?

2010-05-06T09:01:00.000-07:00

"You'll never look at dinner the same way," Food Inc

As I wake up to prepare dishes for our local potluck and viewing of Food Inc I have such mixed emotions. I'm excited to see friends and family. I'm excited about the dishes I'm making and flowers I'm arranging but I am somewhat dreading watching the movie because it has changed the way so many of my friends view food. Funny. I think I am pretty concsious about where things comes from and try to eat more healthy than most including buying only organic meat and growing most of my own vegetables but there is the fear of what scenes might be disturbing to children and what information might further change the complexity of my eating patterns.

I sourced ingredients which wasn't easy. Meat, particularly was complex. I did find grass-raised cattle finally and at least one local source for chickens and ducks. Fish was another matter. I am entirely frustrated with what I've learned already. Maybe that's part of the problem?

I was just opening the packets of locally raised beef. I don't eat beef much but when I do have that rare taco or burger, it's a treat. I used to think nothing of opening a sealed pack and making a dish. Today, however is different. Because I am dreading what I will see and because I know the beef is more local and I was told how they "finish" the cows by moving them into a pasture in Oak View and keeping them grazing and "low adrenalin"...because I was told all of this, I'm starting to take it personally, as though I know these cows.

I wanted guests to be able to taste the difference between grassfed and corn fed meat, because we've forgotten how meat is meant to taste and how things will taste if the animals themselves were eating the diet they were meant to. I want us to have an 'ah hah' moment.

The blood in the packaging is different. Packed by supermarkets I rarely see much blood. When I buy organic and particularly this ground beef, there is fresh blood. I get grossed out and don't want to touch it, then I stop myself, almost like a slap on the face and say outloud, "There is no meat without blood, this is something you must remember!" And it is pure and real and I am walking through it. (psychologically)

I remember when my father had one of his organic cows slaughtered for beef. This is why he'd raised the cattle and wanted to bring this healthy food to our family. My brother went to help him process and package it. It took all day and was a rough, exhausting situation. And I received that beef and cooked it for them yet had this same reaction. It was so much more real and yes, there was more blood. My brother was worn down and my father later had to trade cattle with another organic farmer because it was too hard on him. Though a farmer all his life, dealing with life and death on a daily basis, he had this attachment to cows and loved "his ranch" and "his herd".

When did I become so removed from my food? Hunting, fishing, cleaning animals...This took place around me constantly but now I am in this pristine bubble as though I haven't witnessed this before.

Maybe it's my fearful mind playing tricks on me. Maybe it's the product. I just hope I can eat tonight. Like a student about to walk into orientation I wonder so many things. What will now be expected of me? Will it make sense? Is this a step that will forever change my life? But I cannot know how today will change me until tomorrow. None of us can. But I am a student and I go there and see.

Jumbo Asparagus!! The Harbinger of Spring

2010-04-28T19:06:00.000-07:00

I love when food proves me wrong. I'll take a thumb to the nose from an artichoke any day if it means I'm learning about fabulous tastes!

This week my lesson came in the form of large verdant spears known as jumbo asparagus that interestingly enough belongs to the lily family.

For some reason my snobbery only permitted me to go toward the tiniest of spears. I use them in anything and everything but my very favorite preparation is grilled with olive oil, salt and pepper until they are slightly charred and melt in my mouth. This week was different. We were made a point of gathering as unfamiliar (to me) vegetables as we could at the Farmers' Market. Sometimes I get in a rut and it's easy to reach for the same flavors over and over. As I was trying other new flavors, Chris said, "why not?" when I mentioned I hadn't ever cooked with jumbo asparagus and he was right. Why not grab the ingredient I hadn't personally used and make my own real, first-hand decision about whether I liked it or not.

After taking the photo above -- notice the spears are as large as or larger than my thumb...I snapped off the giant heads as I do with smaller spears and instantly noted not as much came off! I investigated the large ends assuming they were woody beyond hope but they weren't! Barring about an inch on each spear, the rest sliced easily beneath my knife. My first assumption, that they were somehow tougher, was wrong. As their circumference is bigger, I made medallions and prepared to saute them.

The first dish I used it in was a frittata, the second a stir fry and my final dinner with it that I'm eating now is my healthier version of pasta carbonara. It is beyond the beyond yummy, still gives me the creamy, sharp cheesy and salty flavors of the richer version and I've decided jumbo asparagus is my new spring ritual! I will still appreciate the tiniest of spears and continue to grill them but now I'm infatuated. If these are at the market again next week, consider them sold!

*Little known fact: Jumbo asparagus actually comes from the youngest of plants. Unlike trees that grow larger with age, these grow larger with youth! That's why the spears are so tender and more rare! Quick, try to get your hands on them if you still can. But if you are at the Ventura Farmers' Market please please save a bundle for me!

*California produces 70-80% of America's aspragus

(I didn't write down exact quantities but wanted to give you the idea of how to make a healthier carbonara yourself)

Healthier Pasta Carbonara:

Boil some whole wheat pasta, (I used corkscrew). Slice and saute jumbo asparagus spear medallions in a bit of olive oil and butter and a few cayenne flakes. Add some slices of pre-cooked turkey bacon to the asparagus. When asparagus is almost soft add a bit of organic 1/2 n 1/2 or milk if you prefer (2 tblsp or so). Grate in some parmesan cheese, stir and lower heat. Drain cooked pasta, add to saute pan and toss. Add salt n pepper to taste, grate a little lemon zest over it for freshness and voila, mange! Mushrooms, peas or sliced colorful bell peppers would be an excellent addition to this dish.

From Pot to Plot, Buying New Babies for Your Garden

2010-04-28T12:50:00.001-07:00

(image: © DK Crawford my own seedlings I started at home)

In our Victory Garden Classes we are learning so much! The worm composting class last week had so much vital information, my head is still spinning! I am letting it gel a bit before I put tidbits on paper but here are some great tips for buying baby veggies already in pots at the Farmers' Market or Nursery.

How to choose healthy seedlings:
First look for color, no browning on the edges, yellow leaves, droopy leaves or bugs. Look under the leaves for bugs both in the nursery and in your garden because that's where they hide. You don't want to bring them home with you and if you are inspecting plants at home, the sooner you find the beginnings of an infestation, the better!

Roots:
It's good if you see a few roots coming out of the bottom of a container because you want plants with well-developed root systems but if you are going for one of these, gently try to remove the plant out of the pot by lightly tapping the bottom then tilting it on its side and letting the plant rest sideways in your hand. Don't pull on the stem of the plant as you might damage it but you want to make sure that it is not root-bound which means the roots have developed so much they are now forming a hard ball inside the container and the plant has no where to go.

Root-Bound:
If you get it home and the container is absolutely full of hard-packed roots then you'll want to do a little surgery which sometimes takes a firm hand. Grab the bottom of the root ball and use your hands to pull the roots in half about halfway through the entire ball. Don't do it too forcibly as you don't wish to destroy all the roots but you must aerate them by pulling it apart and getting some space in the root ball before you plant.

Multiple Blessings in One Pot:
Often commercial Nurseries are selling more than one seedling per pot but you wouldn't know to look! Yesterday I realized the brussels sprout baby I'd bought was actually 6 entire babies! You want to look at the stems and the foliage. See if it appears to be more than one and then, as you take it out of the pot and are starting to gently tease and remove the dirt around the roots, see if the babies begin to naturally separate. I now realize I've planted several seedlings in one hole several times when I could have quadrupled my plants just by knowing to separate them!!

DO NOT DISTURB:
Now that you've learned how to deal with root-bound plants and separate multiple babies in a pot, let me completely confuse you. Some plants HATE to have their roots tampered with. Among them are: cucumbers, melons, carrots, parsnips and most root vegetables. I've heard squash don't like it either but I've had luck being careful about how I transplant them. The veggies that hate being messed with are better either directly seeded into a garden or take special care to leave their roots intact when you are putting them in the ground. If there are too many plants together you can clip the weaker specimen's stems at dirt level to let the heartier plants thrive and the others die off.

We All Need a LIttle SPACE of our own, Plants are No Different:
Don't put plants on top of one another. Having the same plants competing for space actually results in a lower yield -- sometimes less really is more. I learned this my first year of planting zucchinis. The four I'd squeezed into one area did far worse than the two I put in a similar sized plot. The two far out-produced the four and were healthier and produced longer! There are exceptions. If you want to sprinkle flower or herb seeds between plants, especially ones that keep bugs away, that's ok. That doesn't crowd out seedlings the way another whole veggie plant might.

Tomatoes Want to go Deeper than Most:
Tomatoes need intense root systems to support their rubenesque fruit. When buying tomatoes seedlings at the nursery, try to find ones without any fruit or blossoms. You want to get them home and let them develop serious roots and lots of leaves so they can support the fruit you hope they'll bear! When home, take all the bottom leaves off the tomato plant and just leave the uppermost canopy of top, larger branches. See the little hairs all along the side of the tomato stem? They will all eventually be roots too. Dig the hole deeper and plant the entire stem, right up to that canopy.

Amend, amend, amend BEFORE you plant:
Add some compost to your soil, even if you do it in small increments. I you dig a hole for your seedling, pull out some dirt and mix in some compost. The ideal ratio is about 1/2 and 1/2. Try to get the area around the plant weed and root-free and have the soil be at least somewhat soft so the plant will both hold some water and it will have soil it can push its roots out into.

All Dirt is NOT the Same:
Plants are often planted in a potting mix that lets water go straight through it. Nurseries water plants several times a day and you will not be doing this in your garden. Hopefully your garden is well amended, (see above) meaning you've mixed in compost or other organic matter to make your soil lighter and richer. You want to get as much of the potting mix used by the nursery off the roots as you possibly can, as gently as you can. If you just take a plant from a container, particularly a root-bound one, and stick it in a hole in the earth, it may die from lack of water if the soil doesn't hold it, or from the roots not being able to permeate the ground if you have not amended at least that one area in which you are planting.

A Pinch to grow on:
After making my hole and amending the soil where the plant will go, I always put a couple of tablespoons of high quality, organic fertilizer in the bottom. It's sort of like leaving a care package under the roots so they'll have some food to give them energy as they acclimate and then start to grow.

Water -- Get to the Bottom of Things:
Once you've unpotted, cleared the roots of other dirts, amended the soil, fertilized and separated the plants as you need, put the plant in the hole and add back some of the amended dirt. Firmly though gently push the dirt around the edges of your plants. Then give them a drink! Make sure you are watering with a gentle stream via a watering can or the shower feature on a nozzle and water below the leaves, at dirt level if you can! Many babies can't bear having wet leaves and often the stream is too powerful for them as well. Always water at soil level if you can with the most gentle method possible. If you have the option of drip lines? they are awesome too. Once the plants are deeply watered you can add a bit of hay around the base to keep them moist.

Review of The Italian Job Cafe Oxnard CA

2010-04-22T10:29:00.000-07:00

(photos by Chris Jensen)
As Published in the VC Reporter

The Italian Job Cafe -- you'll leave wanting more
By D.K. Crawford 04/22/2010

The Italian Job Cafe
2810 Harbor Blvd.
Oxnard 832-4945
$4.95-17.95

From the moment we walked through the door, The Italian Job Café was uplifting. Smells of freshly baked bread scented the room, sunshine streamed through the windows, Italian music filled our ears, and we were greeted with open, genuine smiles by not one, but all the people working there.

When scrutinized, the cantaloupe and British-green color scheme combined with the glossy dark wood furniture felt partially like a tearoom, partially like an English pub. The space between the tables was a little tight, and the green ceiling above us felt a little low but, ultimately, these nuances disappeared because the overall ambience was so elevating.

The Italian Job Café is owned by a husband and wife team who had their first restaurant in Rhode Island. Upon moving to L.A., they were forced to evacuate twice because of the Malibu fires and fled up the coast. It was then that they discovered Oxnard’s beaches and lifestyle and started planning their move.

Fabrizio, from the Italian island of Sardinia, is the warm, sincere, Italian half of “The Job,” who runs the kitchen while Alison, originally from Yorkshire, England, works the front of the house, sprinkling happiness with an almost fairy godmotheresque charm.

Both my companion and I found the menu appealing. Classic lasagna or spaghetti with homemade, tender meatballs were tempting, but then so were more unusual offerings like the lentil pancetta soup, the roasted portobello, white bean, goat cheese and spinach salad, or the fresh whitefish filet with a horseradish pistachio crust. The menu was also peppered with colorful European vernacular like strozzapreti (“priest-stranglers”), a gnocchi dish and bistecca, a New York steak served with “bubble and squeak” potatoes.

Ultimately, we chose a small salad, a pizza, a pasta and salmon dish to sample. While we waited, a breadbasket appeared with saucers of buttery olive oil and a small silver carafe of balsamic. The warm, herbed focaccia with its light crust tasted as good as it smelled.

As our salad arrived, I overheard the owner Alison talking to other customers. When they asked about making a substitution on the menu, she replied in her peppy Northern England accent, “If we’ve got the ingredients, we’ll make it!” This restaurant aims to please. Later, I heard the same man proclaim to his friend upon exiting, “This should become the busiest place in town.”

Our Caesar salad was so fresh it could have been grown at the table. The lettuce was cool and crunchy with small toasted croutons. My companion described it best as “delicate.” The lightly dressed salad had the slight heat of garlic, the sweet of romaine hearts, the creaminess of the yolky, authentic Caesar dressing and the salty hit of Parmesan. We also tasted the slightest hint of anchovy. “It’s as though the anchovy was lightly dragged over the lettuce a few times,” he joked, then he said it was the best Caesar he’s ever had.

Our bianca pizza arrived with cracker-thin edges. It featured mozzarella, goat and blue cheese with caramelized onions, Italian ham, fresh herbs and white pepper. The center was soft and melty, and the sides were crisp. The combination of cheeses was done with such a discriminating hand that you got the hint of goat and hint of blue. They married well and complemented the hit of fresh rosemary and ruffled Parma ham underneath. The sweetness of the onion completed it. It, too, was delicate, the kind of pizza you can eat at lunch without feeling stuffed.

The tortelloni di zucca featured sweet puréed pumpkin and ricotta pasta with the “slightest touch of amaretto,” according to Fabrizio. The sauce was a remarkable saffron hue of creamy tomato and pesto with diced fresh tomatoes.

The flavor combination of this dish was addictive. The basil, tomato and pumpkin flavors combined to create this new layer of taste that had me rethinking the role of a tomato as fruit.

The almond-crusted salmone mandorle was served on a bed of pesto fettuccine with sautéed fresh spinach. The ground almond crust on the fish was not lightly crunchy as I’d hoped, but the chef later explained that the piece of fish he’d chosen was a thinner tail section and he didn’t want to overcook it. I would certainly rather have perfectly cooked fish with a less crisp crust. My companion quite liked it, but for me the other dishes were superior.

Fabrizio came out and introduced himself at the end of the meal as Alison had at the beginning. He showed me some of the dinner specials he’d recently served: gnocchi with artichokes and sage butter appetizer and a half-moon ravioli entree with wild mushrooms and sweet corn. Mostly, he likes simple flavors, especially at lunch.

“The Job” serves gelato and sorbetti imported from Italy and desserts like an Italian bittersweet chocolate mousse cake and torta della nonna, a Tuscan grandmother lemon and pine nut pie. There is also get a spumoni gelato on Saturdays but it sells out fast!

As we shared bites of pomegranate, hazelnut and English trifle gelato (that tastes like zabaione or eggnog), we realized we’d been there for more than two hours! Dessert was sweet but the whole experience was sweeter. Part of me wants to keep this restaurant a secret; it’s that lovely.

www.thefoodsavant.blogspot.com

Cooking With Your Sixth Sense

2010-04-19T11:54:00.000-07:00

We all have those moments when something or someone taps us on the shoulder and tries to get our attention. Sometimes it's as simple as a nudge that you might need to bring a sweater to an event; other times you get life-changing messages like you shouldn't get on a particular plane or trust what someone is telling you. These instinctual flashes happen with cooking too. Paying attention to these momentary insights can mean the difference between a euphoric dining experience and a disaster.

I personally should ALWAYS listen to the little Chef Boyardee in my head who tries to save me. I may not remember every time I adjusted a recipe because my inner voice told me to but I can sure remember almost every disaster that occurred when I didn't! They are fun to laugh at later but they might leave you hungry for the night!

There was the night of the Roasted Banana and Salted Caramel Ice Cream that turned out so salty I wanted to drink a gallon of water after a few bites! I remember measuring out the salt thinking, "really?" and then I thought "well, their pictures look delicious, surely they know what they're doing!"

Another near disaster came with a Jamaican Jerk Marinade Recipe. "Wow, that sounds like a lot of habaneros and a lot of vinegar." At 1/9th the amount of habanero pepper they suggested, the recipe left everyone who tried it in tears. And the vinegar? Oh my! Luckily I was making several batches of the marinade so I saved the fire/vinegar batch on the side as I adjusted the rest and added bits of that first batch at the end to the larger batch. I added it slowly mind you because it was still too strong to just throw it all in!

I have over-stirred rice dishes, breaking the grain, because a recipe told me and basically made mushalaya rather than jambalaya. I have made lead belly ice cream that consisted of nothing but yolks and heavy cream. Countless times I have over sweetened something by following a recipe. To my taste, the world of baking can often be cut in half sugar-wise. Too much sugar and my tongue goes catatonic. I can't taste other flavors, I don't want to eat much of it, I bounce off the walls and want to fall into a large coma-esq nap in an hour. But that's more of a general taste issue with me and baking rather than a horrible misprint on the cook's part.

My cousin who helped edit "Square Table" which has won numerous awards said each of the recipes in the book were tested by three independent cooks and graded before they made it in the book. She kept a box on her front porch and the testers would show up, take the recipes home and return them with their marks. That's certainly the 'ideal' way to write a book or publish recipes.

With the ever-growing need for content and fast publishing chefs, bloggers, home-cooks and others, there will be more and more mistakes in content and recipes. If you're anything like me, you like to "try out new recipes" for a party. It's a fun challenge for me and lets me enjoy something new as well at dinner. But again, this is asking for disaster unless you really key into your inner voice that's saying "that much sugar? really? salt it again? more chipotle?"

The key is to try to allow enough grace to move slowly through new recipes and listen deeply. If any flags do arise and you have the time, you can always adjust. You may try adding a bit of the recommended ingredient to a bite of what you're making or stir in the large-seeming proportion in smaller bits. Staying attuned to the sounds, smells and tastes of what's cooking can also help you notice when something is done before the time a recipe recommends.

Have you experienced disasters with recipes from a cookbook or that you've gotten online? Have you had moments where your instincts have told you not to add as much of something or to omit something entirely and you have or haven't listened?

As cooking is like art to me I tend to get the basic underpinnings of a recipe to give it a foundation, like the basic techniques that make it work and the chemistry needed for success if I am baking, but then I turn creative and often ad lib to get where I am going. If I don't write down what I am doing at that moment, it will surely be lost for later. I love cooks who keep cookbooks and pens nearby in the kitchen and mark through problem areas, turn down corners and put starts on things that work! Those are treasures passed down from grandparents and mothers that will never steer you wrong! I need to get that organized so I will not have to reinvent recipes each time anew. Then again, maybe I like doing some of that :).

Would love to hear your experiences.

Note Added: Cookbook recall due to typo. This ingredient managed to offend a population rather than simply ruining a dish, read on!!

Thou Shall Not Take Sugar in Your Morning Tea or Coffee

2010-04-16T10:12:00.001-07:00

I have few perfect rituals in my life but my morning tea is one that I thought found perfect, almost holy.

I wake, put on the tea kettle, choose my particular mug, (the one that is the right size, shape for my hand and mouth and insulates the tea properly). Once the kettle sounds its mournful cry I pour the water over the tea an inch or two, then I swirl the cup to let the tea "bloom" (as some do with a french press and their coffee). The liquid becomes dark and aromatic before I pour the rest of the cup and then cover it, letting it steep for at least thirty minutes. I have a black tea with bergamot blend that I have chosen for this ritual because it's mild. As it steeps it gets richer and fuller and perfumed but never bitter. I then stir the tea, keep the tea bag in, add organic 1/2 and 1/2 and two beautiful spoonfuls of sugar. But today is different.

Today I will not pick up my spoon, slide it through the amber-hued grains of sparkly raw sugar crystals and pick up a heaping dose. I will not watch the gem-like grains tumble into my cup of tea nor stir several times to make sure the sweetness is distributed throughout the entire warm mug.

Today I will try my morning tea without any sweetness and in anticipation, I feel already naked; like a vital part of my day is missing. I am akin to a quitting smoker who wakes that first day and lost without the morning ritual of opening the box, putting the cool sweet-smelling cigarette between their lips (they do smell sweet before they are lit), sparking the lighter, hearing the sound of the end of the paper engulfed in fire and finally getting that much anticipated first drag. I know these rituals and this loss because I was once addicted to smoking. This is of course different but similar. The anticipation, the hook, the loss.

I also know the feeling of entitlement. "I should be able to do whatever I damn well please! Whatever makes me happy! This is my life and life is short!" But yet life is short and sometimes we need to make tough decisions to make our time here healthier and of a better quality. Once you have faced an addiction head-on and kicked a habit or at least learned how to choose daily not to participate in an addiction, you know what this feeling is and can recognize it. Today I address the world, "Hello, my name is DK Crawford and I am addicted to sugar."

Like any good addict, I have bargained to keep my habit. "I'll only eat organic sugar and all-natural products." "I'll use another type of sweetener, or darker sugar." "I'll eat everything else healthy to justify a slight indulgence later".

The sugar discussion started for me years ago with various alternative health practitioners. I was told to cut down, use splenda, stevia, xylitol, raw honey, agave syrup, you name it! I have been told to lay off the white stuff that some have suggested might even be more addictive than cocaine!

Many years ago when faced with a health crisis, a guru at a health food store in Ocean Springs, MS recommended I take chromium supplements. She explained that as farming has changed, so have nutrients in the soil and our food doesn't contain the same vitamins and minerals we once got through nutrition, chromium being one of them and as we don't have the chromium we need, we crave more sugar. Well I tried the pills and the most remarkable thing happened...I stopped craving sugar!

But as those in denial do I stopped taking the pills and have been in sugary bliss ever since. Years later I tried a chromium supplement and it didn't have the same effect. I am researching if there is a particular one that is better than another or if I perhaps need a combination of minerals. I am also starting to grow my own food more and as the adage goes trying to "feed the soil, not the plants". It is important for us to build our soil so it's creating nutritious food again! It's kind for us, the earth and the animals who thrive on and in it. But that is only part of the puzzle.

I am happily not facing a health crisis at the moment but I am getting messages. Like Oprah once said, "Life sends you messages – first it will put a pebble in your path, then a rock, and then a brick wall. If I don’t hear the plink of the pebble, the rock shows up." I am not looking forward to hitting a brick wall. My recent first pebble was a few months ago when an alternative pracitioner told me to use unheated raw honey in my morning tea rather than sugar. Then an ayurvedic practitioner told me to stop using sugar in my tea and all-together. Then about a month ago I got a virus and a holistic M.D. told me that sugar would feed my illness and recommended I get off of it until I was well. Mind you, I had not mentioned sugar to any of these individuals, they simply brought it up themselves. Do you also hear the plink,plink,plink of pebbles? I started to feel like I was wearing a huge S on my forehead.

As my virus finally went away and I was better, I pushed the warnings under my finely woven carpet of denial and got the most interesting phone message from my brother out of the blue. "Hey sis, I was reading Dr. Oz's book and he said people who use sugar in their morning tea or coffee are more likely to develop pancreatic cancer than those who don't. So get off the morning sugar or swap to a sweetener ASAP!" Hmmm. That's three messages about my morning tea specifically in less than 6 months. And I know a thing or two about pancreatic cancer because my mother died of complications from it. That's the rock, now I'm listening because I really hate smashing into brick walls.

So I listened but tried to keep a little sweetness in my morning. If not sugar, then what? And the answer came in a few forms; xylitol, stevia, or agave nectar. Agave was the easiest to pick up at the store so I did. I started using it 2 weeks ago thinking I was helping my body due to its lower glycemic index levels. It was still good though didn't taste like my sludgy raw sugar. I was devoted in this effort and would carry the syrup with me when I slept away from home, so I wouldn't have to use sugar packets.

Last night at 12:01 am, I got another rock via email, an article about agave nectar entitled "This Sweetener is Far Worse than High Fructose Corn Syrup" Crap! Of course I've been off High Fructose Corn Syrup for years and even saying the name of that ingredient is like Beelzebub to me! So the rocks are bigger and bigger and rolling in my direction and damnit I want to get this before a bolder crushes me or worse. Thus how we came to today.

I am not vowing to get off sugar in its entirety, but I am trying to look specifically at this morning tea issue square on. I believe there is something to spiking one's blood sugar early in the morning with nothing else on your stomach that's bound to be disruptive although I don't begin to understand all the biology behind it.

So? you ask? What is the morning tea like? At first sip I was amazed at how much it tasted like....well....tea! Without the sugar spike on my palate, I get more tea flavor. And then it also tastes a little like the Atchafalaya Basin which I know only because I've knee boarded there. :) I am not sure if I will even want to continue my morning tea ritual without sugar, is it even worth boiling the water? but I will try it for a while. I have heard that it gets better and soon I won't even miss my glistening jewel-esq spoonfuls. Sigh...

Master Gardener Victory Garden Certification Classes

2010-04-09T15:23:00.000-07:00

I am so excited that this weekend I start attending the Victory Garden Certification Classes taught Master Gardeners. I became an avid home gardener about four years ago and in the last two years have become pretty serious about growing most of my fruits and vegetables.

Last year I started making lasagna gardeners using layers of compost, leaves, grass and such to basically create my own soil in my garden beds. I also went to adding some raised beds.

The first year of my endeavors in Ventura I had some major coups and some glorious failures. As I've been determined to do everything in an organic manner and even moreso, by not using any pesticides but rather working with beneficial insects and substances like milk pray as a fungicide. It's fascinating what is possible and I've been on a steep learning curve. Last year I gained more confidence in my research ability and a keener eye to catching problems early when they showed up for our and did much better.

I have ordered so many heirloom seeds I almost need a personal organizer and of course! I'm looking at expanding the gardens again. What's fun is Chris has joined me in this effort in the garden and love of growing things so now I have a partner in crime. There's nothing quite like working the land with someone together in harmony and actively creating food and beauty in nature. Happily he will be attending the classes with me.

I will try to blog some of what I'm learning so you can come along for the ride. The Master Gardener teaching us specializes in making school gardens which really excites me! We will be learning at Saturn Elementary in Los Angeles at their impressive school gardens!

Here are the topics we will cover:

Week 1 (Sunday April 11): planning, tools, seed starting, building raised beds, choosing containers, plant selection (what to grow and when to grow it)

Week 2 (Sunday, April 18): transplanting, soil preparation, irrigation, mulching

Week 3 (Sunday April 25): pest management (weeds, diseases, insects), beneficial insects, organic pesticides and fertilizers.

Week 4 (Sunday May 2): composting, harvesting, seed saving, review, recipes, graduation and certificates

Lemony Artichoke Stem Slices with Toasted Almond Slivers

2010-04-05T23:34:00.000-07:00

I am in love with growing artichokes. When I bought them at a local nursery, a curmudgeon standing behind me said they "weren't worth it." "They take up a lot of room and you maybe get one artichoke". But I still wanted to try! Another person told me I'd have to wait at least a year to see the fruit of my labor. I felt foolish yet oddly determined as I paid for them at the counter. We planted them in the late fall of last year and boy did they grow -- about 6 ft in circumference each. As the plants kept growing, and crowding out other vegetables, (mostly the beets), I saw my boyfriend becoming impatient. "They are really large!," he'd say. "Can we move them in the summer?" "Do you think we could trim some leaves?" My boyfriend is a beet freak and was concerned one crop would impede the other.

I begged patience but I too was starting to wonder if Mr. Anti-Artichoke was right. Then after about 6 months of waiting, something miraculous appeared in the center of the bush -- a tight, green artichoke bud! Like any other new parents, Chris and I watched expectantly. Soon other babies appeared alongside the larger bud and to date we've eaten 8 artichokes with many left on the plant and our second artichoke, a large globe also has its first fruit! I am thinking about stuffing this larger artichoke with a sausage bread crumb mixture when we harvest it. It might be an entire meal on its own.

The artichokes we've grown and harvested moments before steaming them are meatier and moister than those I've bought at the market. It is truly like the flesh of the leaves tastes more like well MEAT than any others I've experienced. We're having gorgeous, hearty meals from them! But there is a part of the artichoke I've become obsessed with that most throw away. To me this versatile part is becoming my favorite part. That right, I am in love with artichoke stems!

**If you don't grow your own artichokes you can still often get the fruit with the stems attached at a local farmer's market!

Now in general I love to cook most stems. The stems of broccoli are delicious! and I cook crunchy stems of chard along with my leaves. I almost growl at people at farm stands who dare ask if I want them to remove my beet green tops and their tiny stems. Imagine! I picture the smart person who came up with that question who goes home each night with a delicious bag of greens to savor in privacy! But artichoke stems are taking this fetish to a whole new level. They have the full flavor of the artichoke heart with lots of versatility.

Preparation:
To start, cut off your artichoke at the second level of leafy nubs under the fruit -- we usually get 4-6' of stems with them. I put the cut stems a lukewarm glass of water on the counter like I would a flower. When I trim up the artichokes I cut off the stems to make them sit flat and score a small x in the bottom to help them steam. Then I set the fruit to steaming and take on the stems.

Peeling:
I peel the stems with a vegetable peeler then slice them in 1/4" slices crossways. They should be tender to slice. If they are not, don't use them because they will be bitter. The longer the stems are and the older the artichoke, the more chance they will be tough. Put the cut stems in a bowl of water with a squeeze of lemon to avoid discoloration.

Ingredients:
2 Artichoke Stems, peeled and diced and put in water with lemon squeeze
1/2 a lemon
Olive Oil
Butter (optional)
Salt
Pepper
1/2 cup almond slivers

Cooking:
I put about 1 tbl of butter and 1 tsp of olive oil in a pan. (you can use all olive oil if you like). I then add the almond slivers and start to toast them, stirring often. When the slivers are lightly browned, I push them to a side and add my disks of artichokes. While in the pan I put a grind of salt and pepper on them. When one side is browned, I turn them over and add salt and pepper on the other side. When the other side is browned, I then add a generous squeeze of lemon to them, stir around in the pan to mix in the salty, lemony, buttery flavors and remove them to cool on another plate before eating. They are better than potato chips, really addictive! They would also be a lovely addition to a stir fry.

Growing Notes:
** You can divide your artichokes in early spring by digging them up and using a knife or shovel to vertically divide some of the leaves, still leaving the roots in tact on the two parts.
** They make great hedges or dividers
** Aphids love them as much as we do so lady bugs are you best friend!
** fyi, you CAN remove, or trim leaves. These plants are VERY forgiving so please, do SAVE the beets!

Banana Coconut Chocolate Chunk Bread

2010-04-05T14:56:00.000-07:00

There is a joke going around about how I rarely make a recipe without adulterating it -- it's like some sort of compulsion. Another twist on this disorder is that I often research something and combine 3-4 divergent recipes into one dish. Why is cooking sometimes stressful in my world? perhaps because I don't just take on one unknown, but often a few at a time. The results can be either brilliant or catastrophic but it's always an adventure!

My boyfriend left some bananas browning on my counter. He said he'd take them home but kept forgetting. As their age spots started to equal the amount of yellow left on them, I decided to take action. I found a simple foolproof ancient banana bread for the basic chemistry of baking involved and had every intention of keeping to the recipe. But by the time two ingredients were in the bowl, I'd already strayed. Luckily, it turned out brilliant beyond my wildest hopes.

It has a crunchy crust due to the larger stone ground flour I added and the large flakes of toasted coconut which made it chewy/lightly crunchy. I also used up organic chocolate chips that had melted together into an amorphous blob in the heat one day. The chocolate chunks being larger and less consistent than chocolate chips made for bites of crunch and bites of melted, gooey bliss -- almost like a lava cake. I recommend using the graham flour and coconut large coconut flakes I did (available at Natural Food/ Health Food Stores or online) as I believe that really 'made' the texture. Those products are linked in the ingredients list.

Banana Coconut Chocolate Chunk Bread

INGREDIENTS
3 ripe bananas, smashed
1/3 cup melted butter
1 tsp butter
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 tsp brown sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
1 cup of all-purpose flour
1/2 cup graham rustic stone ground whole wheat flour (I use Bob's Red Mill)
6-8 oz Semi-Sweet Chocolate Bar or other chocolate that can be smashed into larger chunks
1 cup large unsweetened coconut flakes (I used Bob's Red Mill)

Needed:
1 large mixing bowl
wooden or other mixing spoon
saute pan
hammer or rolling pin to smash up chocolate into rough chunks

METHOD
No need for a mixer. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). With a wooden spoon, mix butter into the mashed bananas in a large mixing bowl. Mix in the sugar, egg, and vanilla. Sprinkle the baking soda and salt over the mixture and mix in. In a saute pan melt 1 teaspoon of butter, put in coconut and brown over medium heat. When it starts to get a light yellow glow, sprinkle 1 teaspoon of brown sugar in and toss it over the heat. Remove from heat. Take chocolate bar still in the wrapper, wrap it in a kitchen towel and smash with either another pan, a hammer, or a rolling pin. You want the chunks varied and not too small, about the size of quarters and some nickels would work. Add the flour to the wet mixture in parts and mix. Add the toasted coconut in and the chunks of chocolate and blend. Pour mixture into a buttered 4x8 inch loaf pan. Bake for 1 hour. Remove from pan by turning over onto another surface or large plate, let cool a bit and slice.

Forbidden Fruit: Exploring Sensuality and Fantasy in Food Photography

2009-05-13T23:12:00.000-07:00

I am having my first photography exhibit tomorrow from 2-6 pm at The Gallery at Ventura College. This is a body of work that explores the sensuality, textures, beauty, form and enjoyment of food, how we look at it and interact with it. I know it's short notice but the opportunity knocked and I answered! I will be there on Thursday and we'll serve snacks, but there will be a gallery sitter for most of Friday. There are two other artists also exhibiting in the gallery with me and they are very talented. Hope you can make it!

Details:
Host: DK Crawford
Type: Music/Arts - Exhibit
Start Time: Thursday, May 14, 2009 at 2:00pm
End Time: Friday, May 15, 2009 at 4:00pm
Location: Ventura College Art Gallery (in the MAC building)
Street: 4667 Telegraph Rd
City/Town: Ventura, CA

Munching at the Farmers Markets

2009-04-16T12:47:00.000-07:00

I finally got to pitch a more "Wacky" review for the VC Reporter about what one can immediately consume at local farmers markets. I did a comparison of sorts between the Saturday Ventura Market and the Sunday Ojai Market. The Ventura Market is coming along but the Ojai Market is worth driving in from L.A., just to visit. Truly a beautiful, magical small town experience.

We got to sample juices and kettle corn, macaroons and raw chocolate. Easter lillies, fresh strawberry pies and tomato starters with names like "Mortgage Lifter" were all lined up like Velveteen Rabbits, looking for homes. There was a new fudge vendor at the Ojai Market, so happy to be there! and a dog bakery with expensive treats for our four-legged guardians. At first my dog poo poo'd the yogurt-covered motorcycle I'd bought him and tried to get us to give him our smoked salmon instead by employing a huge, hollow-eyed gaze. As that didn't work because a) we're cruel and b) the salmon was too good! he succumbed to eating his motorcycle and actually did tricks for more.

The Raw-Stamina chocolate people in Ojai are now selling their version of raw fudge made with almond milk. Farmer & Cook almost killed us with the sticky spelt shortbreads -- highly addictive! Some of the most amazing things we had were form Mt. Olive -- boy do they have their act together! Samples of salad dressings, caramelized walnuts and tapenades abound! Do try their persimmon walnut chews, they are DIVINE! and the Pine Needle Juice is very interesting. We tried the pork, beef and pineapple gourmet tamales (sold at both markets) and liked the pork with green tamatillo sauce best. The pineapple one tasted more like a pineapple lifesaver than real fruit -- was very sweet but once we put some of the smokey hot sauce on it, it balanced out a bit.

We are currently fighting over the last of the chewy cheese curd globules and dipping them in Mt. Olive Pear Butter from the market is a transcendental experience. There's a vendor at the Ojai market selling re-useable shopping bags and Eric Nivelle had his beautiful photographs and cards for display. I took a moment talking to him about a particular photo he took of a homeless woman pushing her shopping cart in front of a Law School and he shared the story with me. That woman is a PHD who once had the world at her fingers and now spends her life pushing her shopping cart and living on the streets. I hope to hear more about her story one day. We are all vulnerable and life is ever-changing.

As we left the Ojai Market and wandered home with our goods, the guitar player was fervently singing "I Saw the Light!" and I stopped to snap a shot of the Cheese Man next to him whose shirt said "What a Friend We Have in Cheeses". Ojai is just like that, a wildly eclectic, often oddly harmonious blend of occurances. We walked home by the welded, twisted sculpture on Aliso street that asks people to names it. Chris took the chalk and put "Authur" and I grabbed it and dubbed it "Strudel" as we walked by. The duck lady of Signal St.'s Easter ducks were out in full and I noticed another interesting assemblage by her. Look at the slideshow above. I am not going to assume what she was trying to say.

If you find interesting new things at the markets, please leave comments about it, always looking for new products to write about and try!

Dahlia Delights

2009-04-08T14:26:00.000-07:00

Here's the latest article in Ventana Monthly I wrote about an amazing dahlia farm here in Ventura County. Not only are the couple who own it magical but the blooms they grow are just spectacular. Love House dahlia will ship bulbs to you every spring for planting. If you've not seen many dahlias they range in size from small pinwheels the size of an oreo to huge dinner plate-size blossoms. And, in keeping with the theme of thefoodsavant, they are edible!! Enjoy!
DK

Food Photography, Giant Cookies and a Review

2009-03-19T23:58:00.003-07:00

First, I used my cookie recipe from this blog to bake a giant cookie! Instead of making the dough into a log shape, I put it in parchment and patted it into a round disk about 1/2 an inch thick, put it in the freezer for 30 minutes, removed it, left it on the parchment on top of a pizza stone and baked it in a preheated 350 degree oven for 27 minutes. Divine! The model had a hard time not diving in and was really happy when I finally said, "Ok, bite it!" Everyone should experience the joy of having their workspace filled with the smells of fresh baked cookies.

The only issue is that I wanted the center moist and so it was hard to pick up without cracking. If you wanted a cookie that would withstand more handling, bake it longer. I was making it for the photo you see above. I am currently working on a photographic body of work that explores sensuality and fantasy in food photography -- stay tuned! I will post images as they are made.

Meanwhile, here is my latest review for the VC Reporter on a winebar and restaurant in Camarillo. I don't have much in the way of photos to show and if you read it you'll see why. This has sparked a controversy I will elaborate on soon. Meanwhile what do you think??

A Blast from the Past -- Visiting Fresh & Fabulous in Oxnard, CA

2009-03-12T13:03:00.000-07:00

Going Back to the Dime Store Lunch Counter

My newest review is of Fresh & Fabulous in Oxnard CA, a quaint lunch spot and bakery that's owned and run by a dietician/nutritionist.

I knew the food would be health conscious which is it, but not to the point of foregoing flavor. What I didn't know is that they are expanding and moving to a new location within the same building -- the old Woolworth building in downtown Oxnard. They will take over the location where Experi-Mental Cafe was housed and with it gain more seats for patrons.

I am pleased to see a restaurant thriving during this wild economy. But perhaps the best part of the review was visiting the bathrooms, yup, that's what I said. "You might want to bring your change," said my dining companion as I mentioned I asked to be excused. "Huh?" "Trust me, she said, you'll be sorry if you don't."

There is an amazing Woolworth museum (perhaps the only one in the country), full of memorabilia and some of the oldest working games and vintage cosmetics
machines I've seen. Enjoy the photos and here's the review as printed in the latest VC REPORTER.

Review of Ojai's Treasure Beach and Cafe'

2009-02-26T14:09:00.000-08:00

Local eatery serves up local ingredients in a unique boutique

A few weeks ago I had the joy of going to Treasure Beach and Cafe' and wrote about it for the VC Reporter. When I spoke to them that day they told me they'd started serving Sunday brunch and I must say the menu sounded scrumptious!

They specialize in fresh preparations of seasonal, local ingredients and list the local, often Ojai, food sources on the menu. They also change the menu every week to fit what's available from growers.

I have posted more photos after the jump so you can see just how yummy it was. Here is the review in the VC Reporter.

Hope you enjoy!!

An Angelic Meeting on Mardi Gras

2009-02-24T16:28:00.000-08:00

Poached Egg on Jambalaya

Gotta Have Your Beads!

I believe that each person we encounter throughout our day leaves an impression on us. Sometimes it's a person's smile or what they do for you, other times it's what they say. If we are lucky, we only come upon people who uplift and inspire us but truly that isn't always the way life is. That's why my experience felt special.

I had a fabulous Mardi Gras in Ventura, Ca. I donned what beads I could find, walked around with my honey and had food at our local Cajun joint. I had aspirations of cooking but they had to get in order behind the other things I'd dedicated to doing this week.

I was sooo glad to have a spot to visit where I could at least see etouffee, jambalaya and crawfish on the menu. And it's only a few blocks from my house so it was super easy!

While there I also had the joy of meeting a gentleman who touched me. His smile, countenance and spirit were a joy to be around. Here is the story of our meeting.

Sr. Claire Saizan We Love You

2009-02-21T17:59:00.000-08:00

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to write about one of the educators who shaped my life and the lives of SO MANY! This story was supposed to be her take on the upcoming Millenium (boy am I aging) but she and I got off rapidly on other tangents.

On facebook I have run into many other Sacred Heart Grand Coteau graduates who speak fondly of surviving the Sr. Saizan bootcamp experience. :) She was a prickly pear with a razor-sharp mind and this sweet, sweet heart if she let you see it. She was known to throw a book (or two), scream in frustration and "tap" someone on the head with her cane and a scowl if they dared pass a piece of litter on the sidewalk without picking it up. She turned 99 on January 2, 2009! Few have inspired (and intimidated) so many!

Here are some of my favorite Sr. Saizan memories in random order.

*In high school she took me on as her special project, called my parents and talked them into having me stay late after school most afternoons so she could tutor me in math and whatever else I was doing poorly in.

*The day of graduation...after I'd cried my eyes out cause I didn't want to leave school and face the big bad world, I was balancing a glass of punch on top of my diploma (folder), she and others came to hug me and I spilled punch down her top.

*Upon visiting her after graduation, feeling so grown-up and hopeful, she asked what I was majoring in and I answered "French!" thinking she'd finally be proud of me. She narrowed her eyes and glared at me and said, "French? Why are you studying French? Didn't you make all those pottery pieces that won awards?" "yes, I did but....(I started to say when she interrupted), "And isn't your mother an artist and your sister and artist?" "You, MY DEAR, are MEANT to be an artist!" "It's in your genes, why are you going against your genes?" ...
As I muttered and started to walk away she further added insult to injury by asking me if I was still "boy crazy". ugh...

Why I put myself out there again to interview her, I'll never know. But the best part of that experience was when she and my grammer-nazi-esq (sorry sarah) editor went pen-to-pen when she reviewed the article as she'd required BEFORE it was printed. I'd never even heard of a gerund and though I still don't understand it? It haunts me to this day. Though I guess in the end she was pleased enough that she called my publisher and recommended he hire me as a full-time staff writer which he did.

There was one other moment when I visited her later and mentioned I'd been making jelly? I think it was? She asked if I had any left and when I told her the jars were spoken for she smiled and sang a little "Greedy, greedy gumdrops" song to me while shaking her finger back and forth.

Relating to her was like being a bug under a microscope. You enjoy the attention but at times it's a little unnerving. That said, I love her, I know many others do. Would love to hear your battle stories and adorations if you'd like to leave them under the comments!

DK

Below is the article I scanned. Some of the page cut off so I added the missing text as you'll see. Click on the pages in order from top to bottom to enlarge them and tell the story as it was printed. Just hit the back button when you're done with one page, then click on the next!

Edible Ojai New Year's Article on Southern Innoculations

2009-01-01T13:07:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year everyone! Here is my latest Edible article all about New Year's Day culinary traditions meant to bring one luck and money. Recently I've gotten into the 'all in one pot' concept for southern new year's dishes but I still appreciate all the variations. Click on the images and they will enlarge.

May you be blessed beyond your wildest dreams! Today I am simmering a pot of turkey chili with organic onions, garlic, tomatoes, sweet corn, swiss chard, and black-eyed peas. It's a very simple recipe and portions needn't be exact. Just sautee' some chopped onion and garlic in olive oil until translucent, add in ground turkey (I like Shelton's because it's not dry), add in a large can of diced tomatoes, and chopped stems of swiss chard. Chop the rest of the chard leaves and add about ten minutes later, then some fresh or frozen organic sweet corn and either canned or pre-cooked soupy black-eyed peas. Finish with some chili powder, salt and pepper to taste -- go slowly with it. I then grate a little of the Mississippi State University Edam Cheese Ball I received from Aunt on top and it's bliss! I call this dish Turkey Chili and it has the flavor but not the heaviness of a regular chili and perhaps best of all is you can make it all in one pot!

I wish you health, wealth and happiness,
Enjoy!!
DK

Couture Cupcakes, Steaks and the Green Fairy

2008-10-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

Photo by Kim Riddle

I had the honor of writing an article for Ventana about Michelle Michel the cupcake lady with a dream and a gift. Chris took me to the Weaver Wines Sex and the City afterparty that thanks the volunteers who'd helped pull of their fundraiser. (Chris taken the amazing photo of the women hosting the party) On the invitation were various restaurants supplying the food for the party. He casually read me the list over the phone and I lit up when I heard something about couture cupcakes? "From where?" I asked him. "I don't know, they are just on the list". "But are they from a restaurant?" I inquired. We went round and round on the phone and had no answer but an exciting mystery awaited us that evening.

We walked into the party and were given foam pink slipper/ coasters with our names on them that hugged our wine glasses. The little touches of the party were amazing but I was acting like I was at Barney's on sale day and though the host greeted us with great aplomb, I was very concerned about not missing the cupcakes.

They were to my right on tiered, mirrored, silver, serving platters. They were tiny, vibrant bite-sized wonders. I drug Chris away from the polite greetings he was involved in and we devised a plan. I took a chocolate one and he a pink one and we met near the wine bar. I ordered a sparkling libation and got ready. Our plan was to each eat half of our little cupcakes so we'd get to sample more than one without looking like hogs. As they poured my drink, I looked to the left as Chris approached and noticed his little cocktail napkin was empty.

"Didn't you get a cupcake?" I asked. He nodded with chagrin and said "they're so small honey! and it was really really good." "They are much to small to split," he surmised. I infuriatingly took my bite of half and gave him the other and told him it was now up to him to go pillage the cupcake trays again to get another. (actually I told him since we were going back all bets were off and he might as well get each of the three flavors for us to taste).

He did and we did and they were incredible. My favorite was a ganache-covered little jewel called Chocolate Covered Strawberry. His was a lemony number.

I made it my mission to meet the maker and told her I wanted to write about her one day. Finally it has come out! Michelle is thrilled and says the orders are pouring in. I'm so excited for her! She is such a beautiful, shining light of a person -- her energy is like a cupcake.

Since working on the article I've had the honor of sampling many many flavors of cupcakes. So far a few of my favorites are the Chocolate After Dinner Mint, Pink Lemonade (Michelle thinks I'm obsessed with this one), Cinnabun and Jeter Jeter Pumpkin Eater. Her homemade buttercream frostings are whipped heaven and her cupcakes are both light and substantial at the same time.

One day I want to go play cupcakes with Michelle. Maybe when she has a huge order and is completely overwhelmed I'll get to go help her bake and frost! Meanwhile I love seeing someone following her dream -- especially if it involves food!

Southern Foodways Conference

Meanwhile, next week I leave for the Southern Foodways Alliance Symposium in Oxford, MS. I haven't been in a few years but I hold such memories of the "Gone Grits Crazy" lecture one man gave where he has us up on our feet shouting 'GRITS! GRITS! GRITS!'. He was completely devoted to a heirloom strain of grits and grew them and sold them. They are like nothing else. Another gentleman, a specialist of beans, passed around samples of greasy and wax beans and let us have seeds.

This conference is called The Liquid South: From Well Water to Sparkling Muscadine and here is the brochure. My hope is that I make it there in time AND get to be a part of Meet the Green Fairy: An Absinthe Tasting.

Primed

Finally, I've been asked to do an article about a local carnivore who's following her dream. I will post more about this when I can.

I hope to post photos and info from the Symposium and just from Oxford which is such an amazing town.

Mange!

In Search of the Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie

2008-09-20T16:17:00.000-07:00

I've been spending a bit of time researching what makes a good chocolate chip cookie. Opinions are as varied about cookies as they are about politics and I'm sure they could make or break a friendship.

What I've been looking for is a not-too-sweet, way chocolatey, crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside cookie that you can enjoy either hot from the oven or a day or two later. Some cookies are good hot, some good cooled, few are good both. I have to say this latter quest is the most difficult one to research as the cookies I've been making rarely last the evening, let alone two days!

I desire at some point to make a somewhat wholesome cookie but this is not the time. I've been in search of pure, culinary bliss and thus far, this is what I've found from my combination of internet, cookbook searches and experimentation.

Chocolate Lust uh Chip Cookies

1 stick of butter (salted) (1/4#) {or if you use unsalted butter, you can grind some sea salt over the cookies right before you bake them)
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 16 oz. bag of semi sweet chips (I use organic)
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 cup light brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
1 egg @ room temperature

Sift into a bowl and combine the flour and baking soda. In another bowl cut cold butter into pieces, add sugars and lightly beaten egg and vanilla. I use a mixer to combine these. Then in stages slowly add flour mixture to wet mixture and when combined add chocolate chips and mix in with hands.

Take dough and roll into a log shape in saran wrap and put in freezer for 30 minutes then transfer dough to refrigerator and save until ready to bake. Let it thaw or soften enough to slice it before you cook it. Will last up to a week.

When ready to bake, cut disks of dough about 1/2-inch thick, cook in pre-heated 350* oven for about 11 minutes. Remove from oven when edges are lightly browned. Take off cookie sheet and let cool.

Simple!

*also works beautifully with fresh chopped mint, milk chocolate chips, blueberries and/or freeze-dried strawberries chopped up (source Trader Joe's)