tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45969191847337525092012-02-01T23:51:53.637-06:00The Aperitifthe art of friendliness and sociability over a refreshment meant "to open" the appetiteMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.comBlogger801100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-33986391590598897882012-01-25T19:10:00.000-06:002012-01-25T19:10:54.085-06:00A ClassicSince sharing the find of the year with you, I've been doing more thinking about 'the basics'. Those reliable, go-to dishes that never fail to comfort, revive and bring a happy smile to your loved ones' faces.
If I were to make a list of my favorite basics, it would go something like this:
Chicken soup -- of course. And if you know me, you know I border on fanatical in my devotion to this Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-17354233282682390222012-01-15T23:01:00.000-06:002012-01-15T23:01:05.599-06:00Back to Basics
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Happy New Year!
It's a relief, isn't it? As the festive food-and-drink-athon known as “The Holidays” winds down and we all stagger to the finish line that is New Year's Day, I find basic, homey foods are what I crave come January. Chicken soup...braised beef...the beautiful winter greens in the markets now...chard, Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-90480164129218332742011-12-11T20:40:00.000-06:002011-12-11T20:40:21.561-06:00You Too Can Love BroccoliBroccoli was not treated well when I was growing up. My mother tended to cook it...and cook it...and cook it some more, just to be certain she had eliminated any visible signs of green. Back then everyone knew green vegetables were really meant to be gray. For a long time my father's running joke was that broccoli gave him the only thing he could agree on with George Bush...they both hated it.Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-61325135690815204482011-11-18T22:53:00.003-06:002011-11-27T16:05:16.277-06:00There will be leftovers
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{Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-82161099693431482222011-05-26T23:38:00.000-06:002011-05-26T23:38:47.631-06:00An Aperitif for SummerHard to believe that the start to summer is but days away.
If you live in the northern half of the nation, my guess is that your weather has continued to disguise itself as winter. It's been rather lovely here in Northern California for the past few months, but I won't rub it in. What I will do is share a way for you to create a summer frame of mind...with my new, favorite cocktail.
Based Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-24308441538907294802011-05-09T23:18:00.001-06:002011-05-09T23:31:01.857-06:00FoundationsDo they still refer to ladies support (ahem) undergarments in department stores as "foundations"?
Not that that's what I'm about to discuss with you. Really.
What I'd like to share is a foundation that provides a base for things to rest upon.
And no, that's not my sofa, which beckons to me on weeknights, whispering...come...rest upon my cushions...waste a few hours watching American Idol...Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-33096390060206523782011-03-14T00:10:00.000-06:002011-03-14T00:10:46.633-06:00Settling InMoving is never pretty.
From the initial panic of trying to pack ones belongings (...all of them) into boxes...to tidying up the excruciating last bits in the old place (...which seems to take forever) to the stress of what seems to be never ending unpacking in the new place.
That said. It's really quite nice once you get settled in a bit. You learn your new route to work. You start to Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-2305646723429766412011-01-06T22:31:00.000-06:002011-01-06T22:31:59.883-06:00Ruffled FeathersWe are preparing to move...again, and I don't like it.
I keep asking Steve, so, doesn't it seem like just yesterday that we were moving?
General household disarray...half-packed boxes...scattered clutter. It all ruffles my feathers.
There's also a cooking hiatus. The kitchen is starting to get boxed up...the cookbooks too. I will have to chill out for a bit and this just somehow adds to my Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-76750465864218344632010-12-27T20:57:00.000-06:002010-12-27T20:57:11.651-06:00Oh Cranberreeeee! Oh Cranberreeee
The unassuming little cranberry. Forsaken for most of the year, the little guy slides into the spotlight for two short months when it either slides out of a can, or is cooked into a sauce...and then before you know it is gone again. Oh sure, you come across it in juice form--an option on those airline flight attendant beverage carts. But that's kind of it for the tart and delightful cranberry.Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-37365690357257791102010-11-17T00:58:00.000-06:002010-11-17T00:58:11.878-06:00The Other Side of Thanksgiving
Oh, sure...we could be talking about cranberry sauce right now...or rehashing the old pecan vs. pumpkin pie debate. Or, maybe I should try to persuade you of the wisdom of a dry brine, but no...well actually, I can't help myself...I think I will reference an article below about dry brining a turkey, you know...just to get you to consider it.
Really though, I think it's my duty to remind you Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-41031342157973974552010-10-23T17:47:00.000-06:002010-10-23T17:47:51.741-06:00A Staycation
I remember when I first heard the term "stay-cation". It was not long after the markets crashed a couple years ago. The news was full of stories of families staying put and economizing by skipping the expensive 'travel' vacation and pitching tents in their backyards, visiting local museums and playing mini-golf in their hometowns.
You have to admit...there is something very appealing about Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-50991930412828741972010-08-30T23:38:00.001-06:002010-09-01T08:55:00.962-06:00FinallySo it was hot here last week.
Finally.
There's been a lot of grousing about the weather here in Northern California for the past couple months. Summer is a bleak time in the City of Fog, but this has been the coldest summer on record in, like, the past forty years.
My husband and I joke that the thermometer seems permanently stuck...at 57 degrees.
And it's August.
For those unaware of ofMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-54403888714908691622010-08-09T00:05:00.000-06:002010-08-09T00:05:36.684-06:00A Cheese Odyssey It's been a busy summer.
My 'project' as I call it, got its start back in May when my sister-in-law was describing her plans for summer activities with my niece and nephew. Her plan for their summer vacation sounded impressive and would provide more than enough fodder for the standard How I Spent My Summer Vacation report come September. (That's so retro, right? I'm sure that now, instead ofMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-45423823019861746622010-06-13T22:15:00.000-06:002010-06-13T22:15:06.052-06:00Bring a Bundt!We went to a friend's place for a barbecue and some ping pong yesterday afternoon.
What? Ping pong, you ask? You didn't know that ping pong is making a huge comeback?! Well it is. Or at least I think it is. If you have a ping pong table hidden away somewhere in the basement or garage, do yourself a favor and bring it out. It'll take you back. In a good way.
Yesterday afternoon's Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-4207060211848051342010-05-30T20:04:00.000-06:002010-05-30T20:04:55.731-06:00The Vacation Rental Blues
It just can't be... I thought to myself as I rummaged through cabinet after cabinet in the "rustic" kitchen of our Yosemite rental cottage last weekend. Not a single saucepan in sight. Nothing that could even stand in for a saucepan. There was a bizarrely huge Pyrex measuring cup. Three coffee grinders. (Really? Three? Why three?!) Two sad-looking little skillets. A turkey shaped platter.Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-56547495936514125652010-04-29T23:19:00.002-06:002010-04-29T23:25:00.947-06:00Weeknight Cooking I read an article today about cooking at home by my latest hero, Michael Ruhlman. He makes the case for taking an hour at the end of the day to cook something and sit down to eat it, together. His point is that "fast and easy" an idea pushed by popular food magazines, tv shows and the 'big food' industry is not really what the goal should be. And I agree, to a point...
We all have those daysMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-82513980277154466462010-04-04T15:09:00.001-06:002010-04-04T16:28:10.861-06:00An Evening with Friends
"We're turning off all the lights!"
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, our apartment plunged into darkness this past Saturday night and then gradually developed a warm glow, as a group of our friends went around lighting candles.
The fact that this all took place in the moments before I was to commence making Pad-Thai-for-the-First-Time-Ever made me more than a little nervous. Who knewMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-40786418874792312392010-03-15T22:52:00.002-06:002010-03-15T22:53:10.082-06:00Twist!Me -- I don't like surprises. No "surprise" birthday parties, no "surprise gifts"...thank you very much. There is uncertainty in a surprise.
The occasional 'pleasant' surprise is okay, I suppose.
A bright, sunny day when the forecast was rain. A ten dollar bottle of wine that's pretty good.
Calculations that show you'll get a tax rebate this year.
Truthfully...I find that things go so much Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-2428125238666346042010-03-04T00:23:00.004-06:002010-03-04T22:12:13.511-06:00Back Into Battle
Remember Battle Chocolate?
Well, months had gone by and my co-workers and I were feeling spunky enough to proclaim it time for...Battle Citrus.
Yet another happy benefit of living here in California is that citrus season during the deep winter months brings with it an entire rainbow of options in the category known as 'liquid sunshine'. So, even though it may rain for fourteen days straight, weMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-66467752170729406882010-01-25T23:50:00.004-06:002010-01-30T13:19:23.776-06:00Ready. Set. Roast!As I mentioned in my year end post, I've been roasting.
There really is not much I have not tried to roast...
Artichokes. Check. (With Meyer lemons...a tasty addition if I do say so...)
A giant bag full of garlic and four types of shallots, given to us by a college friend, who's become quite the gardener and has the good fortune to live in Oregon. Check.
(Sprinkle with olive oil and Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-50384040609931260202010-01-17T22:14:00.007-06:002010-03-08T23:45:30.795-06:00Dining InLet me say right off the bat here that I love eating out. I've always loved it.
When I was about eight, my family spent a long weekend on Mackinac Island at the Grand Hotel. On our first morning there, we sat in the hotel's formal dining room for breakfast and were treated to our plates of scrambled eggs and French toast delivered to the table topped with high-domed silver covers, which the Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-47006735157679034432010-01-05T00:47:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:46:04.263-06:00Leaving Your Comfort ZoneI used to have one iron-clad rule when it came to cooking.
If, when reading through a recipe, I came across the words "candy thermometer"...
well, in the words of 30 Rock's Liz Lemon... "Deal Breaker!!".
My candy thermometer neurosis was not caused by any traumatic event that I can recall. Candy thermometers are pretty affordable, and even easily found in the cooking utensil aisle of one's Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-62090247388024263952009-12-31T00:41:00.004-06:002010-01-30T13:21:04.789-06:00The Year in CookingSome things about cooking...eating...and food in general that I'm only now getting around to mentioning...
Roasting
I was on a bit of a roasting kick this year. And there's a laughably easy formula I've discovered:
"your choice of vegetable" + splash of olive oil + salt/pepper to taste + hot oven = fantastically delicious.
One can roast just about anything this way. I've roasted carrots, Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-23457544641400722342009-12-18T23:42:00.003-06:002010-01-19T00:22:50.866-06:00Holiday Baking
I know, I know, it's That Season...
...of perhaps one too many glasses of bubbly...of rich foods eaten in copious quantities...of occasionally frantic list-making...and, yes, the slightly wacky music that wedges itself in one's brain for eternity. (Example: Mele Kalikimaka. It's a song from an old Bing Crosby holiday record--with the Andrews' Sisters singing backup-- about a Hawaiian Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-80199122832646493672009-11-16T23:39:00.002-06:002009-11-16T23:41:14.776-06:00A Touchy Subject
People are soooooooo funny about stuffing.
There are some people out there who believe the turkey is the focal point of the Thanksgiving meal. They are so wrong. It's really all about the stuffing, which is why everyone has an opinion about the stuffing.
Years ago, when we first started hosting the Thanksgiving meal, I was a bit of a, hmmm... (should I say it?) well, a bit of a maverick. Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-87043095560924638452009-11-11T23:34:00.005-06:002010-03-08T23:47:03.773-06:00A Farewell DinnerLast month Conde Nast announced the closing of several of their publications, one of which was Gourmet, and the news left me genuinely stunned and somehow...bereft. Sure, I didn't quite know what to make of the magazine over the past several years and I had even let my subscription lapse for a year around the time Ruth Reichl was named editor. But, don't laugh, I've been reading Gourmet since IMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-48990453402945581332009-10-11T22:17:00.031-06:002010-03-08T23:28:49.511-06:00The Search for the Perfect Roast ChickenIf I had been able to participate in the drafting of the Declaration of Independence, I would most certainly have tried to shoehorn in one more unalienable right..."the pursuit of a Perfect Roast Chicken". Because truly, a perfect, beautifully roasted chicken, is...Happiness, actually. Does that sound crazy? Maybe chasing a dream of finding the perfect roast chicken recipe for years and yearsMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-77408916071889867532009-09-30T22:13:00.050-06:002010-03-08T23:29:07.364-06:00I Dream of Sicily
We've been back from a two-week vacation in Sicily for over a week now, and at night, I still dream of the place. This has me wondering about the power of that mysterious connection between Man and Landscape... and of course, Woman and Clam Sauce. More on this in a moment.
The trip was the result of many years of pitching Sicily to my husband as a place worthy of a visit. People have asked, Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-37035695583277159902009-08-10T22:16:00.016-06:002010-03-08T23:28:27.720-06:00Summer On A Plate
You know the song..."You say tomato, and I say tomah-to".Well, any way you want to say it -- I loooooove tomatoes.
My inner tomato glutton is completely satisfied with the move here to California, where the season stretches out for a satisfyingly long stretch. With most of August and September still ahead, I have a smile on my face of Cheshire cat proportions, just contemplating all the lovely Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-89772944620838749532009-07-22T21:22:00.032-06:002010-03-08T23:16:48.418-06:00Grills Just Wanna Have Fun
There is something about cooking outdoors...over open flames. For me, just about year 'round, there's a kind of primeval yearning to sear food over hot coals.
I'm filled with envy when I watch Jamie Oliver throw things into his outdoor wood-burning oven and I can recall years of bitterness over not having access to a grill when we lived in a pre-war apartment building in Chicago with no outdoorMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-20488200724417397622009-07-13T21:36:00.024-06:002009-07-13T23:05:53.096-06:00Battle ChocolateI can't remember exactly how it came up. Mike G. and I were chatting a couple months ago. We have what I'd call your typical producer/editor camaraderie. That means I talk to the back of his head, he nods sagely, pushes buttons and moves the mouse. We choose shots or agree that certain copy is simply not working and, before you know it... television is made. But every so often, maybe while Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-89576517304227940522009-06-29T22:05:00.020-06:002010-03-08T23:29:31.153-06:00Burger Bonanza
Ohh, there's nothing as American as a burger...grilled over charcoal...on a warm summer day. And since Fourth of July is right around the corner, I think I'll share my two, all-time-favorite recipes for the best 'weird' burgers you'll ever make. Go ahead and mock me -- these are not the standard, good ol' ground chuck burgers you salt and pepper, shape into patties and throw on a grill. I'll Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-3344350215006113852009-06-24T22:56:00.020-06:002009-06-25T00:05:25.514-06:00Sunday Morning BiscuitsHere's the thing. When you grow up believing that biscuits spring forth from a cardboard tube your mother buys in the refrigerated section of the grocery store, and then whacks on the edge of the kitchen counter to open, it's a seriously profound moment when you realize this is simply one way...not the only way...of 'making' biscuits. Years ago, when I discovered that biscuits are even better Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-4246683851467390152009-06-18T08:36:00.003-06:002010-03-08T23:30:10.215-06:00Time flies
Where does the time go?!A couple months have slid by, and I'm simply mortified by how easily I slipped into a vortex of work and regular old everyday life that did not include telling you about the things I am cooking, and eating!
So, here's a little catching up...
MARCH
A family wedding in LA. The day after, a bunch of us went out for a delicious dinner in Thai Town at a completely nondescriptMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-73599683020829308192009-02-25T09:45:00.019-06:002009-03-01T15:50:53.465-06:00Chocolate Square(d)Maybe it's that whole irritating Valentine's Day thing, but February cooking magazines always seem to feature an abundance of chocolate recipes. Despite my aversion to all the Valentine hoopla, I do like the yearly chocolate recipe round up because I am always on the lookout for that one perfect chocolate dessert. I remember reading somewhere that having a perfect chocolate cake recipe was likeMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-35495663491313032092009-02-09T22:35:00.016-06:002010-03-08T23:31:29.579-06:00Home CookingClose your eyes.
Now... I'm going to throw out a word or phrase and would like you to tell me the first image that springs to mind...
Pot Roast
My guess is that there's a spectrum of memories connected with this meal which may come to mind...but also a consistent theme. Something along the lines of, "no thanks".
If you'd asked me to play this game a few years ago, I would have blurted out, Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-59988130646626032972009-01-19T09:52:00.018-06:002010-01-30T13:24:31.570-06:00A Real San Francisco Treat
Maybe you remember those awful commercials with the cable car advertising a "San Francisco treat"? Well, wipe the memory of that macaroni-rice-in-a-box product right out of your mind. I'll tell you what a true San Francisco treat is: Dungeness crab.
As luck would have it, I was befriended last year, by a true "local" -- a San Franciscan with a superb palate and a lifetime of cooking and Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-80256539967339352612008-11-12T09:31:00.023-06:002010-03-08T23:32:06.990-06:00Consider the Oyster
No doubt...everything that needs to be said about The Oyster, has been said, and probably more eloquently, more poetically and with more whimsy than what I am about to share.
I am a late-bloomer in many ways and eating oysters is no exception. I don’t recall having anything to do with oysters as a child. (I mean really. What child would?!) As an adult I occasionally ate them, but always Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-3322964247616447502008-10-01T22:08:00.021-06:002010-01-30T13:24:55.771-06:00In The Name of Love
It appears the humble cupcake is having its fifteen minutes of fame.
Bakeries exclusively devoted to cupcakes opened last year in my neighborhood back in Chicago, featuring, um, ‘interestingly’ flavored cupcakes…green tea, chocolate port, persimmon, etc…Fancy grocery stores are offering cupcakes in their bakery departments…right next to the pretty fruit tarts, and chocolate mousse cakes. Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-38421854738998519042008-08-05T22:20:00.035-06:002010-03-08T23:27:36.071-06:00Farmer's Market Redux
Pinch me. Because there are literally moments when I can't believe I have found myself in a place like this. It is the very beginning of August and heirloom tomato season is in full swing here in Northern California. Last Saturday's visit to the local farmers market yielded the picturesque basket of goodies above, but also a supremely exciting moment for this food nerd.
A few months ago, oneMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-16991966564871564842008-07-16T18:07:00.035-06:002008-07-27T23:30:37.953-06:00Snapshots from a Road TripA man. A woman. A dog. A small-ish, overstuffed hatchback.Driving cross-country has its challenges, only one of which is: what will we eat?CHICAGO to MINNEAPOLISOur first stop was Minneapolis, to visit my brother. He has always been an excellentcook. Even as a kid, when my mother would let us make tacos...his looked like a food stylist had been involved.For dinner one night, he roasted a Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-51904783279386803872008-06-18T08:23:00.014-06:002010-03-08T23:32:48.793-06:00Transition
tran - si - tion |tranˈzi sh ən; -ˈsi sh ən|
noun
the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another
I knew it would be daunting, when I said yes to the job offer. Moving is never pretty...and that's just when you go from one house or apartment or neighborhood to another. This move -- Chicago to San Francisco -- involves thousands of miles and a myriad of details. Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-50681112994255607642008-05-06T08:21:00.012-06:002010-03-08T23:33:38.149-06:00Dynamic DuosThe cheese menu was impressive. Four or five offerings were listed and I was carefully contemplating them all as I enjoyed a post-gnocchi sense of well being at a local San Francisco institution: Zuni Café. My friend, JB, made a little face (well, it was actually a little face, accompanied by a dismissive shrug--as if to say, "so passe") when I mentioned going to Zuni for a meal. Ignoring theMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-8402260637708680622008-04-02T22:11:00.024-06:002010-03-08T23:34:30.470-06:00Vegetable Bliss
I think it was my friend Jane's husband who pointed out that doughnuts are acceptable if one is a vegetarian, and so I cheerfully mentioned this to my dear friend, Bijou, when she told me she had become a vegetarian. We've been friends since high school and she is, and has always been, The Artsy One. Supremely talented with just about every medium I can think of, she made an incredible silk Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-21204121305781200852008-03-19T21:44:00.025-06:002010-03-08T23:35:28.017-06:00Sunday Dinner
So, I moved last weekend. From one temporary apartment, to another. By taxi.
(I'm assuming this will be the first, last and only time THAT's ever going to happen.)
Left behind my quirky-kitchen-with-the-giant-Viking-range and traded it in for a small, yet new, ubiquitous-granite-counter-cherry-cabinet model. The range is electric. Sigh.
Not my favorite...(so annoying the way things go on Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-79447097388304139902008-02-28T21:06:00.018-06:002010-03-08T23:36:45.009-06:00So...About Me
I love those moments when someone you think you know pretty well, says something which surprises you. Or, maybe surprise is not the best word. Maybe it's more like...
someone you think you know pretty well, tells you something about themselves that is unexpected and charming.
Last week, my dear friend, Jane, said 'tag, you're it' in the classic meme, Eight Things About Me. In her list, she Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-28689277414881701552008-02-27T23:04:00.016-06:002010-03-08T23:37:19.435-06:00Just a Little Help
After too many days spent on airplanes, going here and there...listening to people sniffle, cough and sneeze all around me (eeew!) I arrived back at my little
San Francisco outpost with the quirky kitchen, ready to actually cook something. I'll admit it. I've grown a little lazy, folks. Having to think through the logistics of making a meal (for one) with limited kitchen stuff has at times Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-64452556978897126832008-02-12T22:59:00.036-06:002010-03-08T23:38:00.732-06:00Unfamiliar Kitchen Dispatch #2
Putting together a meal in a kitchen not your own has its challenges, only one of which is:
the local grocery store.
Sometimes you land in a place...maybe a beach town, and the choices are somewhat limited. I have already shared the story of the memorable seven-dollar peach on Martha's Vineyard, and yet I have very fond memories of wonderful meals prepared there over the years. Amazing local Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-2745043238003184702008-01-31T22:26:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:38:38.456-06:00Unfamiliar Kitchens
It's a no-brainer. Someone in San Francisco offers you a six-week project...beginning in January and stretching through the worst of a Chicago winter and you say yes. Enthusiastically. Eagerly. You pack all your normal person clothes, oh and maybe a raincoat. No parkas. No long underwear. No ten-pound snow boots and big, silly-looking hats. You leave those behind. Give the husband and Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-11365358726847857712008-01-16T12:51:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:39:16.879-06:00The Depths of Winter
A couple summers ago, my brother gave me a small, potted olive tree for my birthday. It was August. The tree basked in the warm breezes and bright sunshine. Olives appeared. Those gorgeous silvery-green leaves sprouted. Life was good.
Winter arrived and the tree suffered. The leaves fell off. For a plant, it looked unhappy. Instructions that came with the tree directed me to find a Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-76625404247410671192007-12-17T17:27:00.000-06:002007-12-30T16:43:19.713-06:00The Agony and the EcstasyMy hands were hurting and I was feeling surly. Not a single present was wrapped, a dozen errands were waiting and I had been rolling out cookie dough for over an hour. Steve and the dog hightailed it out of the apartment, no doubt trying to get out of the way of Angry Baker. What possessed me to make roll-out, decorated cookies? I have a very complicated relationship with baking, and these Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-67661545758509284262007-12-10T17:19:00.000-06:002007-12-11T16:05:29.836-06:00A Bakery Unlike Any OtherMAKE LOAVES, NOT WAR, says the banner stretching the width of the Arizmendi Bakery in San Francisco. Two cyclists in serious riding gear are filling their travel coffee mugs. A woman in the corner is reading The Art of Persian Cooking as she sips her coffee. I’m munching the most amazing cheese roll, ever… and pondering how it is that San Francisco has such an abundance of wonderful bakeriesMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-78119966828918135602007-11-26T21:32:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:40:36.914-06:00A Thanksgiving Salad for Winter
Shockingly enough, one of this year’s Thanksgiving hits was – you won't believe this – a salad. Imagine that. Originally concocted by a bunch of Brits and composed of an unlikely mix of ingredients it was a perfect foil for the turkey and other sides, and had the extra benefit of booting boring old green beans from the menu.
I first had The Salad at an amazing Thanksgiving meal in Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-52492552333104125112007-11-20T11:47:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:41:05.998-06:00Thanksgiving Traditions
The beauty of Thanksgiving is how many different ways one can choose to celebrate a glorious concept – gratitude -- with food. Everyone has traditions and favorites. My friend, Didier, is making beef tenderloin for his guests. Steve’s Louisiana-born boss will be deep-frying his family’s turkey. Friends on the East Coast will be firing up their grill for the bird. We’re going the standard Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-34419502677889733962007-10-18T20:31:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:41:39.903-06:00France, Je t’aime
There was that very first time I heard French being spoken on the street, in France. I will never forget it. A tidal wave of happiness washed over me. It was thrilling for this Francophile, let me tell you.
Since the sixth grade when a family tree school project led to the discovery, far back on my father's side, of a great uncle who had been married to a French Woman, I have been Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-4011120179943170962007-10-11T16:32:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:42:14.426-06:00Thank Heavens
One could feel a collective sigh of relief in the neighborhood this week as fall FINALLY wandered in a month late. I overheard someone on the bus say that it was incredible that a person could get both heat stroke (yikes! Can you say Chicago Marathon?!) and frostbite within a week in the same city.
I’ve been a frustrated cook for the past month or so – my CSA box keeps delivering squash and Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-78081118788962607652007-10-02T15:04:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:42:48.020-06:00Deserted KitchenMY MY MY...it's been a nutty couple weeks. The pots and pans look neglected and the stove is silent...err, the HOOD is silent, actually. Those of you with commercial grade hoods know of what I speak.
First, there was a weekend on my own and the Indian food takeout place up the street was calling my name. Why can't I order just one thing from there? Maybe it's the beguiling trio of flavorsMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-90679267701468255562007-09-18T16:53:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:43:32.577-06:00Perfectly Plum
As you may already know, I don’t have terribly fond childhood memories of the Eastern European-style desserts that are my heritage. As opposed to the heavy tortes laden with liquor and nuts, I've always liked Things Baked With Plums. Maybe baking with plums is a Euro thing? I don't know. It just seems like you see plums being used more frequently in desserts there. Anyway, there was a kind Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-13250331867193562202007-09-13T21:08:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:43:49.981-06:00High Noon in OklahomaI'm driving down a desolate stretch of highway just outside of Tulsa for work. It's raining. The car is a rental...a hulking Dodge Charger in an odd shade of minty green. (The man at the Avis desk seemed disappointed by my blank look when he told me the type of vehicle I was getting as an upgrade. )
There isn't much around. Some refineries. Occasional scraggly trees and mildly rolling Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-68313230595959969742007-09-07T13:39:00.000-06:002007-09-08T07:08:27.726-06:00Anniversary BrunchPerhaps it was last year's wallet-busting dinner at Spiaggia that made the case for a thriftier anniversary celebration or maybe it was just being in the mood to celebrate without a big fuss. Either way, we decided to try the new (this summer) brunch at Green Zebra as this year's anniversary treat. As we sat in our comfortable banquette in the serene dining room, perusing the menu, I realized Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-360427582600119372007-09-04T13:51:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:26:32.733-06:00Tomato Glutton
Oh the annual paean to The Tomato! I wonder… does any other fruit, or vegetable for that matter, achieve this much attention and such worship? So much is written about the glory of a summer tomato that I will humbly keep this short and offer you a couple of my favorite ways to eat them. The season for garden-ripe tomatoes is something I look forward to every year, and when they first begin toMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-85912342881171379442007-08-27T14:07:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:25:49.120-06:00The Great Chicken Breast Boycott
There was a time in the early 90s, when I felt compelled to make a stand against the ubiquitous “boneless, skinless” chicken breast. Chicken breasts were inescapable. Their low-fatness had been revealed to the world and the nation was clutching at this “healthy” ingredient like a life preserver. There was nowhere to hide from the rubbery tasteless stuff that had taken over. It was a staple Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-22585948989427602162007-08-07T17:24:00.001-06:002007-08-07T17:31:33.448-06:00A Heavenly Goat CheeseJust a quick note about one of my favorite goat cheeses! I found this cheese a couple years ago…it’s called Camellia and it’s made by the artisan cheesemakers at Redwood Hill Farm. Here in Chicago, I buy it at both Fox & Obel and Whole Foods. By the way, the name, Camellia, is after one of the owners' beloved goats.Let me just say that the first time I tasted this tangy, lush Camembert-style Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-42017748096903877822007-08-07T12:20:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:20:12.709-06:00Italian Genius
The smell of a handful of fresh basil brings joy to my heart. Even the two or three small sprigs I buy in the dead of winter…you know the ones…they come in those horrible little plastic containers. I chop them into a chiffonade and scatter them on a pizza or that old standby, vodka pasta… and presto! The entire dish comes alive. Behold the Power of Basil!
So, when summer comes, and I spy Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-89816266082808798652007-08-02T10:45:00.000-06:002007-08-02T12:11:49.881-06:00Dinner and a movieThe Netflix pile sits, ignored. Nothing has moved in our “queue” in months and Steve is making lukewarm threats of canceling, or switching to only one dvd (horrors!). I’m not sure why, but I lose interest in all things video or television in the summer. It just feels right somehow. Maybe it’s a kind of vacation. Summer evenings should be for lazily flipping through magazines, turning the Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-65651679794188982007-07-30T13:09:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:25:00.945-06:00The Essence of Summer
The story of The Peach has taken on near-mythic proportions. Everyone has stories they bring out on occasion and for the two of us, whenever any conversation includes discussion of organic produce or buying fruit in season, we feel compelled to tell the story of The Peach.
It was the early 90s, we were on Martha’s Vineyard for our annual summer vacation and thought we’d pick up some fruit Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-51825659858599609162007-07-24T15:17:00.002-06:002010-03-08T23:24:25.381-06:00Success & Failure
Wow. Who would have predicted Cookie Triumph again – this time with Peanut Butter cookies —and so soon after last month’s achievement of baking nirvana?
And, who would have guessed that just a few short days later, I would find myself peering, prodding and poking at a dismal mess in a pan…an Italian vegetable pancake gone awry.
Here’s how it unfolded…
This weekend, to satisfy a weeklong Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-80260288136105636632007-07-19T14:25:00.000-06:002007-07-19T14:37:15.316-06:00Bittman Rules!!!!Yesterday's brilliant 101 Simple Meals in The New York Times Dining section was perfect, not just for the summer, but any season, because we all have known that weary, "I don't know...what should we eat?" feeling at one time or another. This list promises to kick-start a meal in a flash. I've printed it and it's up on the bulletin board in our kitchen--as I imagine it is in hundreds of other Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-24225066034072588602007-07-18T11:42:00.002-06:002011-08-08T21:49:17.691-06:00In Praise of Excellent Dinner GuestsSo, after going on here about not using the oven very often in the summer…a couple of deliciously cool days swept into the city and inspired me to fire up my Hummer of a range for a small dinner with two dear friends, Michael and Didier.
Planning a dinner menu for these two is a delight and it got me to thinking about how there’s an extra joy in cooking for a certain type of dinner guest. It’s Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-6260766559271040212007-07-11T16:46:00.000-06:002007-07-14T07:59:13.137-06:00The Pleasure of a Solitary LunchPlease don't think I'm odd if I confess to enjoying lunch out, alone. There's something very appealing to me about a civilized, sit-down lunch (is it the European roots?) and the solitude one can enjoy with good food, something to read and people to watch. I know, I know...for some, the concept of eating out in public (and I'm not talking Chipotle here...) alone, makes them uncomfortable , but Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-19702827913755137602007-07-11T15:01:00.001-06:002010-03-08T23:21:05.125-06:00Wilted
It was a moment of canine-human telepathic communication. Henry-The-New-Puppy looked at me beseechingly with his little blue-black eyes. “It’s HOT” he telegraphed, tiny, pink tongue flapping…his pot-bellied little body slumping to the sidewalk. I nodded back in complete agreement. We stood there for a second and then shuffled back into the building to the din of blasting window unit air Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-21644395063415518902007-07-06T10:49:00.002-06:002010-03-17T09:39:31.424-06:00My Big Fat Breakfast
Oh the wonderful laziness of a holiday morning. Yes, the 4th fell right smack in the middle of the week this year… but a day off, is a Day Off! That means having time to linger in pajamas, savor a cup of coffee and then make a big breakfast. Marcia’s Law says that a “big breakfast” should somehow include pancakes.
I’m not really sure why I love pancakes so much. All I can tell you is Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-5185856224509228542007-07-02T14:19:00.001-06:002007-07-02T15:02:04.875-06:00CityphileAs a television producer and travel maven, I subscribe to the belief that one can never be too prepared. For me, the fun of planning a trip (for business or pleasure) is the research, which I tackle with relish... especially, "the essentials". And by that, I mean the basics, which I like to determine early on.First: hotels. My taste runs to unpretentious, smart, stylish…with a splash of charmMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-90511032815125450712007-07-02T09:02:00.000-06:002007-07-06T11:01:26.704-06:00La Famille d'OignonSo as I was unloading this week's produce/CSA box on my counter I detected a theme...the humble onion was enjoying the spotlight. There were lovely young red onions...more spring onions...(eek, more spring onions...I still have most of the bunch from last week!) and there were some space-age looking garlic scapes. umm, I only know the wacky, corkscrew thing-ys were scapes because the weekly CSAMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-57072469675784050982007-06-25T13:54:00.001-06:002007-06-25T14:19:08.383-06:00In Pursuit of The Perfect CookieLet me preface: I am not a baker. Not in the way some of my friends are. You know who you are, people…Darcy, you and your English Trifles and Pumpkin Loaves…and Michaela, She-Who-Makes-Her-Own-Stollen-From-Scratch at Christmastime…and, The Treumann Siblings…Julie and John David…keepers of a super-secret, to-die-for brownie recipe I can’t seem to pry from either one, drunk or sober.And then, Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-80945616409362888802007-06-21T11:16:00.000-06:002007-07-06T11:03:17.746-06:00Frittata: Where Have You Been All My Life?There was a whole bunch of excitement here yesterday...over a box of produce! (Ok, that's overstating it a bit. There was eager anticipation on my part, and puzzled amusement on Steve's...) The arrival of our first delivery from Home Grown Wisconsin , our weekly "share" of organic vegetables and fruit, which will continue through the end of October. The e-mailed newsletter arrived that Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-14011825861778862322007-06-15T09:04:00.000-06:002007-06-21T13:57:26.725-06:00Cocktail HourIt's called "magic hour" in my business. That glorious time of day when the sun begins to set, bathing everyone and everything in the most flattering, golden-pink light. For a short time, every day...ordinary people look like matinee idols, small towns become captivating, and cities the stuff of postcards. That magic, in summer, begins somewhere around eight o'clock in the evening (as opposed Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-33215274857491986142007-06-12T16:04:00.002-06:002010-03-17T09:33:05.779-06:00Spinach...ReduxA couple Sunday’s ago, I tore out yet another recipe from the New York Times Magazine section. I’ve stopped stuffing them in the bulging 3-ring binder where I keep such things and now have a new ‘system’…stuff them in cookbooks where similar recipes reside. Crazy…yes. Disorganized…I know. But it’s working, for now.
Anyway, this recipe is part of Amanda Hesser’s Recipe Redux series which runsMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-8782421279738030852007-06-07T09:53:00.001-06:002010-03-16T09:45:43.121-06:00A Bounty of ProduceYears ago, I stumbled across a recipe for a mushroom tart in a magazine. There was something easygoing and warmly encouraging about the author's tone -- and the accompanying photo was GORGEOUS...a tangle of wild mushrooms, sauteed and crispy golden, strewn across a burnished, flaky puff pastry rectangle. What's not to love? I decided to add it as an appetizer at Thanksgiving that year. The Marciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4596919184733752509.post-35300045025340797652007-06-06T15:57:00.000-06:002007-06-06T17:14:32.364-06:00Andiamo!!I look at it as making up for lost time. As a finicky child of legendary reknown in my family, there were only a few items I deemed palatable in my early years. (sigh...even back then, I was a control freak.) Kraft Macaroni-and-Cheese was one. Ate it every single day for lunch during kindergarten. Followed up with The Year of Liverwurst-on-White-Bread. My parents were concerned. They grewMarciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452839369823284339noreply@blogger.com0