Progress Report

For the record, here is my arm:

For those of you who have not heard the story, while in Tahoe a couple of weeks ago, I was taking pictures at a snowed-over miniature golf park. (Those of you on Facebook can go check those out. I'll post them here the next chance I get.)

I had my arm looped around an iron fence with those harmless-looking, dull arrowhead-shaped spikes on them, and just when I moved my arm up and over to take another step, my foot punched through the snow and the fence punched through my arm, missing the bicep but nicking the muscle fascia. Five stitches in the emergency room.

The stitches are out now, so my arm is held together with tape. It feels tingly and weird, but nothing seems to be amiss that I can tell. The bad news is that I still can't swim for another few weeks, and we are down to barely 5 weeks before the triathlon. I'm still biking and running, and I still intend to do it, but it may not be pretty. As long as my arm holds together for a few practice swims, I'll just tape it up and go anyway.

Faux Pho

While visiting Seattle, I had some delicious Vietnamese Pho in a little place that was so pretty I wish I'd taken a picture of it. Orange trim, steamy windows with lettering stenciled on them... ah well, sometimes we have to take a picture with our senses rather than a camera.

Those of you who live in urban areas with diverse food cultures available night and day may not understand my preoccupation with Pho, but believe me, if you lived in culturally deprived Napa Valley, you would soon feel the same way. In San Francisco or Seattle, it is possible to whet your appetite for Pho on a whim, but out here in agricultural paradise, we sometimes have to make do. Or Pho, as the case may be. Here's my pretty quick and pretty delicious attempt to replicate Pho quickly at home. See what you think.

Pho at Home

For the broth

8 cups water

6 teaspoons Better than Bouillion vegetable stock base (this is slightly weaker than the recommended amount for other uses)

1 cinnamon stick

6 quarter-sized coins of peeled ginger (peel it with a teaspoon)

2 star anise (if you have it, if not, omit)

2 teaspoons rice or cider vinegar

2 green onions, sliced diagonally so they are pretty

1 pinch red pepper flakes

2 tsp fish sauce (if you have it- I did not)

A sprinkle of soy sauce or Bragg's Aminos

1-2 cups cabbage of any kind, sliced off the head into wide strips

For the garnish (these are not optional)

1 lime, cut into small wedges

1 bunch basil (Thai basil if you can get it), washed and dried

1 bunch cilantro, washed and dried

1 jalapeño or serrano pepper, thinly sliced

2 more green onions, sliced diagonally

1/2 c mung bean sprouts per serving, rinsed and drained

Condiments

Sriracha chili paste (the clear bottle with the white rooster and green cap)

Hoisin Sauce

Optional Protein of your choice, such as thinly-sliced rare beef, cooked chicken, pork or tofu, or even an egg

Noodles

1 package thick or thin "rice stick" noodles, cooked according to package directions until al dente, then returned to a covered pan with a little oil on the bottom to keep them from sticking.

Begin by preparing the broth:

Add all stock ingredients except the cabbage to a stock or saucepan big enough to hold them. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. You'll have to taste for balance: what you're looking for is a very delicately flavored stock with a tiny bit of tang and a tiny bit of savory. As the stock cooks, the ginger, anise and cinnamon flavors will become more prominent. Do not be afraid of the fish sauce! It smells funky, but it adds important depth and complexity. (DO NOT spill it.) Its flavor will also meld into the whole. Wait to add the chopped cabbage until near the end, when the meal is 10-20 minutes away, or it will lose its bright color.

If your noodles aren't cooked, then boil up some water and do that. If your noodles are already cooked, use your simmering time to prepare your garnishes and proteins. The last time I made it, I marinated boneless, skinless chicken thighs in soy (or Bragg's Aminos), agave, ginger, green onion and sesame, and then cooked them in the oven, in the marinade, for 40 minutes at 325, then chopped them up and put them on top of the noodles and broth. Fast and tasty. This would work for pork also. Alternately, you can drop an egg per person into the stock as it simmers, a few minutes before serving. I do not think that this is traditional, but it's good.

To serve, set out your plate of garnishes and your condiments. (Make sure you've cooked your cabbage in the stock until slightly tender and bright green.) Place a serving of noodles in a big, deep bowl for each person. Ladle in the stock and cabbage, and place your protein item on top. Each person doctors up the bowl to their liking at the table. I recommend using all of the condiments, as long as you're careful with the jalapeños.

If you don't already have a bottle of Sriracha at home, I urge you to purchase one and use it (sparingly at first!) on ramen, pizza (oh, especially pizza), mac and cheese, in peanut sauces, marinades, barbecue. It's our go-to sauce.

All of the recipes I found in books and on-line started with things like, "Boil 8 oxtail bones, skimming every 30 minutes". I don't mind homemade stocks, of course, but I think when one has a craving for Pho, one doesn't want to have it tomorrow, after the marrow bones are boiled, skimmed, and clarified, right? So I wanted to make this something that with all of the ingredients on hand, could be whipped up in 30-40 minutes and would be a little different.

Let me know how it goes!

If There Are Any Lingering Questions

...here are the illustrative Dutch Baby pictures. As of this week, I have had it for breakfast three times. Still just as tasty. Wikipedia says that it is often flavored with vanilla and cinnamon, which we did not do. (Cinnamon and lemon? I don't know about that.) Maybe next time when I demonstrate it for Grandpa we'll try that variation.

Check out the skillful egg-cracking on the part of not-quite-three-year-old Abbie!






Pretty!

A D.B. is often referred to as a "German Pancake" but that really does not do it justice. It is much more like a popover or Yorkshire pudding. In fact, it looks exactly like this Yorkshire pudding that our friend Vincent Nattress made for Christmas dinner with a prime rib. Not at all like a pancake. A pancake is to a Dutch Baby as a foam mattress is to a down comforter. If down comforters were crispy and browned in butter on the outside and delicately eggy on the inside.

What the Heck is a Dutch Baby?

Among the many, many recipes my grandmother collected was the recipe for "Dutch Baby," an unfortunately named breakfast dish that most resembles a giant popover cooked in a cast iron skillet.

My friend Karen gave me Molly Wizenberg's book as a birthday gift. I do enjoy reading Orangette, though sometimes it's hard not to hate Molly for being so clever, such a good cook, and so in love, all at the same time. But I dove into the book on the airplane on the way to Seattle to visit Karen, and by the time I arrived, I had read more than half, cried more than a little, and liked her all over again. As soon as I read her recipe for Dutch Baby, I knew we had to make it, to honor Grandma's obsession. Not only did Karen concur, but she had already printed out the recipe from the website and had been planning it as a breakfast for one of the days of my visit.

Abbie (2 1/2) quite deftly cracked the eggs into the blender and Karen and Abbie together measured the other ingredients and added them. It's a pretty simple recipe, good for beginners.
Whir, stir, melt, pour, bake, and we were there. As opposed to popovers, which take 45 minutes, Dutch Baby takes only 20-25. Great for a Sunday morning when I want to let the dogs snooze a little longer and enjoy my coffee and book before Mike gets up.

I had never made one before, but Karen's mom is an old hand, so Karen led the way. It was delicious! Amazing. The squeeze of lemon and sprinkle of powdered sugar were perfect condiments. It's cooked in butter, so it doesn't require any extra.

I called my grandpa later to tell him. His exact words were, "What the hell is a Dutch Baby?"

In all the years of clipping recipes, my grandma had never actually made one! I made a promise to cook one up on my next visit.

We raved about it so much at dinner the last night that we invited Karen's friend Terri over to do it again the next morning. Unfortunately, due to a forgotten doctor's appointment that required fasting, she was unable to join us, so we had to eat it all by ourselves, and again, had no problem polishing off another beautiful skillet-full.

When Karen sends me the pictures, I will post them for you. I encourage you to make one this Saturday or Sunday for breakfast, as I will be doing. Quick, simple, delicious and fun. I have, among the recipe clippings of my grandmother's that I saved, a recipe for the version that is filled with cooked apples, but I'll bet you can figure that out yourself if you feel like putting apples, jam, or any other fruity thing in it. The point is, try it. You'll like it.

Orangette Dutch Baby

Split between two 6 inch cast iron skillets, or make one big one.

For the pancakes:
4 Tbs unsalted butter (melt butter on low in the cast iron pan or pans) I almost never use unsalted except for pastries and pies.

In blender, bowl, or mixer:
4 large eggs
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup half-and-half (milk works just fine, too)

For the topping:
4 oz melted butter (we skipped this extra butter entirely and it was still delicious)
Juice of 1 lemon (just squeeze a little over the top and add more to your individual serving if you need it)
Powdered sugar (sifted over or shaken from a little strainer is nice- don't be afraid)

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Divide the 4 Tbs butter between two 6-inch cast-iron skillets (or one big one), and melt it over low heat.

In a blender, whir together the eggs, flour, and half-and-half. (Or whip with a hand-mixer, or stir briskly with a whisk.)

Pour the batter into the skillets over the melted butter. Slide the skillets into the oven, and bake for 25 minutes. (20 minutes worked for us. They'll puff, then go golden. When they're slightly brown around the edges, and dry, you'll know.)

Remove the puffed pancakes from the oven, transfer them to a plate or shallow bowl, and pour on clarified butter, sprinkle on lemon juice, and dust with powdered sugar. Serve immediately.
(We put the skillet directly on the table with a trivet and squeezed and dusted right there. No additional butter was necessary, though there is never anything wrong with a little extra butter if you feel like it.)

If, somehow, you managed to get to this point in your life without a cast iron skillet, all is not lost. If you have an oven-proof frying pan (no plastic or rubber parts), or a heavy cake pan, that will work, too. If you use a thinner pan, place the rack just above the middle of the oven so that the bottom doesn't burn, but not so close to the top that it hits the roof when it rises. It may rise as much as six inches.

Rose Mary Landre

June 3, 1923- March 6, 2009

Rose Mary Waszkiewicz was born June 3, 1923 at Short Creek, near Glen Robbins, Ohio, to Walter and Valeria Waszkiewicz. Well-known and loved in South Lake Tahoe and far beyond as “The (Banana) Cake Lady,” thirty-two-year South Shore resident Rose Landre passed away at her home in the early morning hours of March 6, 2009.

Rose was raised in the Polish-speaking Detroit suburb of Hamtramck, Michigan where she attended Catholic school, all in Polish until the secondary level. As a young woman, she was gifted with a beautiful soprano singing voice and had aspirations of becoming an opera diva. Her fiery and independent nature that all know so well was forged in her youth as she made the difficult transition from a Polish-speaking home and school to the Detroit public school system.

After a brief secretarial stint, Rose worked in the pre-World War II aircraft industry in Detroit. Soon after the beginning of the war, she was selected to go to Los Angeles as an experienced riveter/driller for the Douglas Aircraft Company in Santa Monica. Due to her diminutive stature, she was in great demand to work inside the wings of the B17s and other aircraft produced in the Douglas plant. She took great pride in her work there. She related a story once about a group of disgruntled male workers, resentful of the female presence, taking credit for some of her fine work. Grandma simply directed the supervisor to take a look at the initials inside the tip of the wing of the aircraft—a place only someone her size could reach—and sure enough, RW was scratched inside. She well earned her name and fame as one of the real original “Rosie-the-Riveters” of WWII.

Despite the pride she took in her work, Grandma was practical. In 1943, she made what turned out to be a fateful decision to take a job waitressing at the B-19 Restaurant next to the Fox-Westwood Theater in Westwood Village near the UCLA campus. A certain red-haired Navy sailor/student from UCLA visited the restaurant with his classmates with increasing frequency. Their first date was to a beach party. Sympathetic friends could see that the young man was shy, and invited them to attend together.

From that day on, they spent almost every afternoon walking Hollywood Boulevard or sitting under a tree on the campus, talking for hours. Butter was subjected to wartime rationing at that time, but a few extra pats were somehow hidden between the hotcakes on his plate when he’d visit her at work between morning roll-call and class. After a convoluted courtship involving a bus trip to see his family in Capitola, California, and a Christmas break hitchhike by Lowell all the way from Texas to Detroit to meet hers, Rose and Lowell Henry Landre were married by a Justice of the Peace in Wayne County, Michigan in June of 1945.

Together, Rose and Lowell established homes in places as diverse as New Orleans, Okinawa, Japan, Augsburg and Heidelberg, Germany, Forts Benning in Georgia and Bragg in North Carolina and Fort Richardson in Alaska, during Lowell’s extensive military career. Considerable time was spent in California’s Monterey Bay region, both in the Capitola and Santa Cruz area, where Lowell was from, and at Forts Ord and Hunter Liggett and the Presidio of Monterey. They were blessed with three sons, Lowell Dean, Lance Henry and Lee Raymond, the elder two of whom are still living. During the many years that Lowell was absent plying his trade around the world, Rose was both father and mother to three very adventurous young boys. That was a real job.

In 1977, upon Lowell’s retirement from the military, they relocated to their home in South Lake Tahoe. An avid cook and baker, Rose’s home was never without a sweet treat. She collected recipes and cookbooks, and always enjoyed finding new things to make. Rose and Lowell made many, many friends all over the world, due to their kindness, linguistic abilities and outgoing natures. She gave away thousands of her patented homemade banana cakes, and would sometimes bake ten or twenty each day. IF you were lucky, and you rated a place on the list to receive a plastic-wrapped cake with a hand-colored label, it was a pretty special honor. We miss the smell of those cakes baking at Grandma’s house.

Rose is survived by the love of her life, husband Lowell, two of her three sons, Lowell Dean and Lance Henry Landre, grandchildren Tamara Landre, Nicolle Landre, Laura (Landre) Clendenning and Michael Landre, great-grandchildren Kayleigh Jones, Jessica Wood, Justus Hunstable, Dylan Landre and Casey and Conor Clendenning. Had she lived to see her 86th birthday this June, she would have been delighted to meet her first great-great-grandson, Milo Jones.

Grandma, to say that we miss you would not be enough to convey the loss we feel at your passing. The world has a big hole in it without you. We love you now and always.

We give special thanks for the care and concern given to Rose during the long and difficult course of her final illness to: 1) Doctors Hoffarth and Miller. 2) All the departments and functions of South Lake Tahoe’s Barton Memorial Hospital from Emergency to Hospice. 3) Each of the 24/7 on-site caregivers of Carson City’s Advanced Home Health Care and their management and staff that together maintained Grandma’s well-being and comfort as long as possible. At Rose’s request there will be no funeral or memorial or wake. Her cremains will be privately placed alongside those of her youngest son and her first grandson in the near future. If you need or desire to commemorate her, do a good deed ASAP and then hug someone and breathe a special air-kiss to Rose.

*Note: this is revised from the original version I posted a few days ago, with additions and changes by Grandpa.

In Like a Lion...

I woke this morning to the sound of thunder. The rain has been coming down for days. We are creeping closer to our annual average, but still below where we need to be to remove the "drought" label from California's status report. Snow is falling in the Sierras, hushing the patter of rain with which it alternates.

For those of you who are also concerned about my grandma, let me say that she is not well. She is now much less well than she has been.

Like the time between the lightning and the thunder, this is a quiet and apprehensive time.

The Next Eight Weeks

Ok, I mentioned this on facebook, so some of you already know, but I signed up for my first triathlon. Yep, that's right, me, your friend Tam. Eight weeks from now, at Lake Berryessa in May, I'll be swimming, biking and running my little self across and around the lake at eight in the morning.

How do I feel about this? I'm trying to stay calm and not freak out. The numbers seem doable: 1/2 mile swim, 11 mile bike, 3 mile run. All things that I do already or can do. I'm hoping it will be fun. For now, I'm just trying to keep myself from getting injured so that I can finish the darn thing.

I know nothing at all about how to go about this. In case you are considering dipping your toes in the triathlon waters as well, or just want to come along for the swim, run, ride, I thought that I would share the things I learn along the way.

So far:

1. This from the former triathlete physical therapist I saw today to help me with my mild IT band issue:

To test a running shoe to make sure it has adequate support: a) first, push in on the sides of the back of the shoe, where it cups the heel. They should only bend in 1/2" on each side. b) Next, holding the front and back of the shoe from the bottom, twist in opposite directions, to see how much flex there is. Again, the shoe should be fairly rigid, and shouldn't collapse. c) Last, hold the shoe at the front and back again, and bend it upwards. If the shoe "breaks" or easily bends at a right angle at the arch, where your foot doesn't, it might force your foot to bend or push off awkwardly to compensate.

This is why the $50 special Asics I got on sale from Big 5 make my feet feel flat and my knees feel tired, but the same brand, different style, that I bought from a local running store for twice that, don't. Some styles offered by the same company offer more support and stability. Save your knees and hunt down the right shoes for you. New running shoes should be as comfortable as bedroom slippers. If bedroom slippers came with a nice firm corset of support around the arch and heel, that is.

2. Running shoes should be changed every 500 miles or so. Figure out how much, roughly, you run a week, and from there, figure out how long your shoes will last. If you're just starting out like me, this may seem like a huge number that you'll never reach, but you will eventually. Do this on the day you buy them and put it on your calendar so you're thinking about it BEFORE your feet and knees remind you. I suggested to my local running store that they send out a postcard (even email) every season or twice a year to their customers, reminding them of how much better they'll run and feel when they keep their shoes up to date. (It goes without saying that you should not get new shoes the week or day before your event, just in case, so plan ahead.)

3. A friend who is a triathlon pro says to take a can't-be-missed bright towel for your changing/transition area. Something like neon pink or a bold print, so that you can sort your stuff out from the crowd. He also suggests a little dish tub and a container of water for rinsing your feet after the swim, as sandy toes do not feel good once on dry land. It was also news to me that you can't be naked in the transition area. I had envisioned little Victorian-era canvas cabanas in neat little rows, or at least, a very crowded bathroom. This is going to take some planning...

4. The consensus seems to be that the bike to run transition is the suckiest. I'm trying to think of it as the home stretch.

5. Wetsuits, should you need one, can be rented for the day of the event. The company that does it rents it to you for 40 days, so you have time before your event to practice in it. If you like it, and you keep it beyond the 40 days, you keep it, and they keep your deposit. If you're done with it, send it back and pay just the rental fee. Cool. I perused the pictures from last year's race, and it looked like 90% of the people wore wetsuits in the 70-degree water.

6. Some people use toe-cages on the bike so that they can bike in their running shoes to save time.

That's it for now. If there is anyone who has advice or tips for me, send 'em on in. If there are any beginner triathletes out there who happen to go to Health Spa Napa Valley and want a buddy for run, bike or swim, let me know, too.

Getting Our Money's Worth

(self portrait with alligator)

This was my third visit to the Academy of Sciences, this time with the whole Nattress family. The taxidermied animals in the dioramas are odd, a little disconcerting to the children accustomed to seeing things alive. But they are beautiful, lovingly-rendered taxidermy, and they do hold still. My charter membership runs out at the end of this month if I don't choose to renew it, so I'm glad we've gotten to go several times so far.