Summer Day

The More I See the Less I Know

this photo was on this website, but I'm sure they found it somewhere else

The other day, I asked my co-worker what her name would be if she could have a different name than the one she was given. She thought about it a little bit and said, "I have always liked the name Jolene." I asked her what her middle name would be, and while she was thinking, I said, "Jolene always reminds me of that Dolly Parton song, "Jolene, Jolene..." and started to sort of sing it. "Jolene Jolene?" she asked, as though that was the suggestion for first and middle-- which we found hilarious.

"And the last?" "Clooney." she said without hesitation.

It took me a second to figure out that she picked Clooney not because it sounded especially beautiful with Jolene Jolene (what wouldn't?), but because it would mean she was married to George. But "Jolene Jolene Clooney" is also hilarious. We cracked up every time we thought of it the rest of the afternoon.

The next day, she realized she had forgotten to ask me my choices.
I haven't thought about it in a long time, but I always envied plain, straightforward names that people could easily spell and pronounce. Like Jane.
And that's the end of the story.

Best regards,
Jane Jane Kiedis

PS- There is WAY too much color on this page now. Time to change palettes.

Just Because It Says Natural, Doesn't Mean It's Good For You

Or so say these folks about Agave Nectar. Hopefully Marion Nestle will address this in her book.

Recently Eaten

Green Beans, Yellow Beans, Shallots and Gypsy Peppers: stir-fried in olive oil, sprinkled with feta cheese and fresh herbs.

Greek Salad: Cucumber, red onion and tomatoes, red wine vinegar, olive oil, oregano and feta

Corn, Green Beans and Fresh Black-Eyed Peas: simmered in butter

Frankengrape

Well, chardonnay is fermenting away in its tanks and barrels, and Pinot Gris is next on deck. Pinot Gris, which we all know as a white wine, is actually this color: not quite noir, not quite blanc. In fact, Pinot Gris is a naturally occurring mutation of Pinot Blanc, which is in the same family as Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier. Some vines will actually produce both white and rusty-colored clusters, so the incoming grapes look like this:


Luis snagged this cool cluster from a passing bin. None of us had ever seen the mutation express itself in a single cluster before. The colors actually spiral around each other. The most remarkable thing was the single grape that was both white and black. Cool!

This Week in the Garden

Drink Me

Iced Tea for Grown-ups or Children

Ingredients
8 Decaf Apricot or Peach teabags (Republic of Tea)
Boiling Water
Agave Syrup (aka Agave Nectar)
Soy Milk

Method
Pour boiling water over teabags in a metal or pyrex 1 qt container
Steep 10 minutes
Pour into refrigerator storage container
Add cold water to desired strength, chill
Sweeten with agave syrup
Add soy milk to taste
Yum

No caffeine, no high-fructose corn syrup (check your soy milk to see how it's sweetened), no high-fat dairy, tasty

Black Bean Green Beans

A tasty, easy preparation for fresh green beans. This is a variation on a recipe from Andrew Weil. The combination of black beans, green beans and garlic is supposed to be very good for you.

Black Bean Green Beans
(Or Green Beans with Black Bean Sauce)
Ingredients
1 lb green beans, trimmed and broken into 1 inch pieces
1 red "gypsy" pepper, halved, cleaned and cut into 1/4 inch strips
+/- 3 cloves garlic, diced
1/2 can black beans
1 tsp olive oil
1 tsp soy sauce
1 tblsp "Soy Vey" teriyaki with wasabi if you've got it
(OR 1 tsp soy + 1 tsp honey + 1 tsp toasted sesame oil if you don't)
1 tsp sriracha chili paste

Tools
Saute pan + lid
Knife and cutting board

Method
Saute garlic and pepper in oil until garlic has softened (but not browned)
Add black beans and their juice, heat until bubbling
Add green beans and remaining ingredients, stir
Cover, cook, stirring occasionally, until green beans are al dente
Adjust seasoning to your desired balance

Remember: Salt will intensify as the dish cools, so easy on the soy if you plan to eat these cold the next day as a salad, which, by the way, is delicious.

Virtual Book Club

I would like to invite anyone who reads this blog to join in a little virtual book club with me. I'm going to read Marion Nestle's What to Eat. I also want to read this one: Real Food, but I'm going to start with just the one. It's pretty fat. It's non-fiction, of course, so I don't expect to read every single word, though I might.

I'm reading Stumbling on Happiness and Absurdistan right now, so I should be finished with both around the first of September if anyone would like to join me. I'll also search for other bloggers who have already read or are reading it, and post links to their thoughts. Join me if you can.

Not a Very Good Seamstress

After two late-night sessions with my sewing machine, iron, and a great big piece of beige canvas drop cloth, I have transformed my two red IKEA storage ottomans into two sloppy beige IKEA storage ottomans, with pillows. These might become the sloppy beige storage window seats for my office window if I can figure out how to reconfigure my over-stuffed office to allow that.

The red was getting a little too glaring, so that problem is solved, but now I'm not sure whether I should re-do the top of the one I messed up, leave it as it is, or hire a real person to re-cover these for me in a more professional way.

I learned to sew in junior high. Thank god there are no pictures left of me wearing the clothing I made for myself over the years.

Oh Sweet Mystery of Life

Can anyone tell me why and when my favorite over-my-head Vancouverite tech-nerd, Darren Barefoot, moved to Malta?

Gentlemen, Start Your Presses

Harvest has begun in the Napa Valley. The sparkling wine houses started up while we were in Washington. Hendry picked its first chardonnay of the year yesterday morning. The smell of wine will soon be in the air. Dusty guys in shorts will pay for their lunchtime sandwiches at Sunshine Market with purple hands. The valley buzzes with action and energy, even as its arteries, Highway 29 and the Silverado Trail, crawl with sluggish grape gondolas. The tourists are forgiven for gawking at pickers and stealing a grape or two. It's part of what makes the cooling transition to Fall not just bearable but beautiful here.

It took me a long time to get over the impending first day of school anxiety that always came with the first truly chilly mornings, and the slightly shorter days, of August and September. I have always been reluctant to take the next step, to move on to the next activity, no matter what it is, and I hate to see summer end. But here, there is always something beautiful on its way. In the garden, the delicata squash are growing to a pickable size, and I can actually imagine enjoying a winter squash again. Tomatoes are still remarkable, but I don't have to have them at every meal as I did in July and most of this month. Pretty soon, the birds will be enjoying the giant sunflowers' seeds and singing their little hearts out.

Progress Report

Remember my little garden? And my planting project? Well, here they are today. The garden got a little mixed up and a little, well...eaten. The sunflowers, which were to form the back wall of the little narrow garden bed, with sweetpeas growing up them, sort of washed forward and around.

The gopher ate most of the nine original basil plants, one by one. One morning I walked out to find just the top leaves of a tender plant sticking out of his evil little burrow, the next, there was a new plant missing and a pile of stems thrown out like wingbones outside a KFC. He/she/devil-hamster also ate the cute little chives with purple flowers, the sweet peas, all the beans that weren't planted in barrels, the blue-star creeper, and almost got the strawberry.

The oregano and thyme seem to be safe, however they are so shaded out by the sunflowers that they are tall and weedy. So much for the pretty little arrangment of herbs and ground covers that were supposed to fill in and be lush and beautiful in a year. The beans in the barrels, however, are thriving.

My knee, in case you were wondering, is doing pretty well. I can run again, and I've actually been doing it. I've even been back on my carveboard twice, though I still feel like an awkward 40 year old on it. Which is about right.

The compost bin, aka the rot-box, is not doing so well. Or maybe it is. I can't tell. It's not that things are not rotting. They certainly are. Mike is sure that I need more nitrogen (he is the compost expert, I have to give him that), but he requires that I dump the existing compost out before he'll agree to get me a bag of lawn clippings from the gardeners. If you saw this black, smelly, lumpy mess, teeming with, shall we say, fauna (crawly fauna, to be more precise) you would not want to dump it either, unless you were wearing a haz-mat suit and protective eyewear. And where? In an open pile outside the fence, to further induce the neighborhood skunk to prowl around the ivy?

I think I need more brown. Compost, theoretically, is composed of greens and browns, and all of my kitchen waste, with the exception of coffee grounds, is considered green. (According to my master gardeners pamphlet, but not according to compost master Mike.) So according to the pamphlet, I need more dry material, like dead leaves or straw. Given the potato-pancake-batter quality of the current mix, I am leaning in this direction, but I'm willing to try both methods. Where DID I put my haz-mat suit....

Babies Like Blackberries

More photos from the Seattle trip.

On the first night, Phil barbecued a beautiful whole Sockeye salmon. This fish was fresh, fresh, fresh, and tasted so good. Karen had gone to one of the many Seattle farmers' markets that afternoon, so veggies and homemade ice cream with market raspberries rounded out a very fine meal.

While visiting near Sequim (pronounced "Squim"), we took a little hike to Troll Haven, an amusement park that never was, and picked a few blackberries on the way. The berries were still mostly sour in the cool peninsula climate, but if you picked carefully, there were some sweet ones. Abbie carefully warmed and macerated hers in her hands, and then either devoured or wore them, depending on how you look at it. We drew straws to see which one of us had to take her out of the backpack, as we were all wearing light colors. Tipping the backpack over and just letting her crawl out was suggested (by her grandmother). Fearless Uncle Mike plucked her out and transported her to the kitchen sink for cleaning.

En route to lunch and sculpture walking, we stopped off for a digestive-system-daring appetizer: Taco Truck Seviche/Ceviche. This taco truck was a taco bus, complete with interior barstools and counters. I had a bite or two of seviche, which was limey and delicious. I also had a tamale, which was excellent. As is usually the case with Mike and I, we ate a lot of pub food in Seattle, because we like to try all the local brews and generally arrive close to one meal time or another (how convenient). Brew pubs also seem to be fairly family-friendly, so they are easy.

Back from Seattle

We had a fantastic time in Seattle last week, eating, drinking, checking out the city and spending time with some of our very favorite people. I have great friends. I really do.

In addition to hosting us, they were good sports for our trek to the infamous Gilbert's Cabin in the Cascades. The cabin was very cool, the forest was indescribably quiet and beautiful, and we had a nice picnic lunch, but it was still a very long trip.

I will post more pictures as soon as I can. Thank you to everyone! It was a great time-- we'll miss you until we see you again.

The Jewels of Summer

Gettin' Ready for the Big Shindig

We're having the annual Thank You party for our wine club members at the winery tomorrow. We're not the sort of winery that throws parties every day, so we've been sweating and scheming, organizing to the point of everything else falling so far off the front burner that it's now on the floor next to the stove. Angela has done a great job.

Pedro has planted new flowers in front of the old house, weed-whacked the dichondra, and he, Frederico and Santiago have put up the vast shadecloth to keep our guests cool and comfortable (utilizing some maneuvers with the forklift of which OSHA definitely would not have approved). Susan, Billie, Angela and I made the flower arrangements with flowers that Susan and Angela picked up at five in the morning at the San Francisco flower market. George has drawn the barrel tasting samples and the old 1970s fridge is stocked with cold white and pink wines.

I think we're ready.

Not Just a Disney Movie

The garden is at last in its tomato-laden glory. The zucchini plants cannot be stopped, and the eggplants are now reaching their gorgeous, glossy, purple maturity. It is, therefore, time to make ratatouille. And time for the long-promised ratatouille recipe. When I make it, I don't worry too much about exact proportions (surprise), and I think I roast it longer, but it is a very forgiving recipe. You can add more oil, or use less if you have juicy tomatoes.

Do go and buy the Herbes de Provence, which give the dish its unique flavor, and don't be afraid to use them. Ratatouille stores well, and is great with some goat cheese for pasta, pizza, risotto, even mixed with a little oil and vinegar as a salad if you leave it on the undercooked side. Ratatouille pizza with goat cheese, on almost any lavosh, flatbread, pizza dough or foccacia, with a little salad, is a super-quick weeknight dinner for us. The original recipe, from Bon Appetit, included a roasted filet of halibut, placed in a spot cleared in the middle of the still-roasting vegetables, which makes a great summer dinner too. If you've already got the barbecue fired up, you can also do this in a heavy pan over the waning coals after the steaks are done.

Ratatouille
1 1-pound eggplant, unpeeled, trimmed, cut into 1/2-inch pieces (note- one one pound eggplant, not an eleven pound eggplant)
1 pound tomatoes, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
2 zucchini, trimmed, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 small red bell pepper, chopped
2 garlic cloves, flattened (I use as many as 6)
2 tablespoons olive oil (I am positively unrestrained with the olive oil. I skip the nonstick spray.)
1 1/2 teaspoons Herbes de Provence

Preheat oven to 400°F. Spray large rimmed baking sheet with nonstick spray. Spread next 5 ingredients on sheet. Drizzle with oil. Sprinkle with Herbes de
Provence, salt, and pepper. Roast vegetables until tender, stirring occasionally, about 35 minutes. (I generally roast for 20 minutes, then stir, roast another 20, stir, and see how I like the look of it from there.)

Loose Ends

Clarification: Gilbert Landre, whose cabin we hope to visit in Skagit, Washington, next week, was my grandfather's GREAT grandfather's brother, not his grandfather's brother. Had to clear that up.

I stopped going to art class, which is why you haven't seen any new pieces in the last couple of weeks. It was slated to be an "Introduction to Media" class, but the teacher had changed the class to a "workshop" after the catalog came out. It turned out to be a loosely organized and chatty watercolor session with some dear but elderly ladies. One very very frail lady was wheeled in once or twice by her equally frail husband to work on a collage. Not very focused on instruction, though there were a couple of talented painters there. The teacher would set up a bland still-life in the middle of the room, and maybe one other person would paint it besides me. The others worked on whatever they felt like working on. Since I had signed up for the media class, she'd half-heartedly offer me some charcoal or pencils or a piece of scratchboard and let me go. I felt bad quitting, since there were really only five people attending the class regularly, but in the end I decided that my time was valuable to me, and if I wasn't getting what I wanted out of the experience, it could be better spent elsewhere. Like blogging.

Here are some photos from the trip I took with my mom to Santa Cruz on Tuesday, as her belated birthday present. The blue house once belonged to my grandfather's parents, and sits at the top of Depot Hill in Capitola. The railroad tracks run parallel to Park Avenue, near New Brighton beach. My mother and I used to walk along them to the beach when I was very little. On the way back, we spotted a flurry of birds in the ocean near Pacifica, and pulled over to see what was going on. There was a peppery smear of smaller birds along the surface of the ocean, and flocks and flocks of gray-black pelicans flying formations overhead to join the action. It was some sort of small fish run, anchovies or something. We stayed for a while to watch the spectacle, which included a small pod of dolphins whose fins we could barely see arcing out of the water. Then we had some cheese and crackers in the car and drove home. All in all, it was a lovely and relaxing trip. Into the fog, out of it, back in, and back out again.