Ain't No Big Thing

Well, the Farm Bill has been voted upon, and the Kind-Flake amendment was rejected. I participated and voiced my opinion. I feel better about it than I would have if I had received those emails and deleted them, or put them aside for later. If I need to call my representatives in the future, I have the information and I know how it works. For today, that's going to have to be enough. I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing-- buying organic, supporting local farmers-- and anticipating the next opportunity to speak out.

Heartwarming

I want to thank Alison at Cleaner Plate Club for doing such a fantastic job with her Farm Bill post. As usual, it was well researched, positive, and full of helpful links and accurate information. Seeing that she had responded so quickly and so well to the issue just about brought tears to my eyes this morning. I had goosebumps. Power to the e-people!
Great job Alison!

Here are pictures of the petition we all e-signed being presented:

My Favorite Recent Photos

Farm Bill Vote is Tomorrow

My chef friend writes:
It has come to my attention that our Representative, Mike Thompson [(202) 225-3311 in DC or 226-9898 in Napa] does not support the Kind-Flake Fairness Amendment to the Farm Bill.

The current Farm Bill perpetuates subsidies to large corporations like ADM and Cargill, the net result of which is mega farms, corn syrup in our foods, diabetes for our kids, and no help to local, sustainable farming. Without exaggeration, this is a massive, pervasive problem that affects the health of all Americans and the health of the planet.

This is your chance: this only comes up every 5 years. You can help to keep food producers in our back yards with this amendment. You can help support local agriculture and an end to mindless subsidies for multi-national companies.

The bill comes up on the floor tomorrow. I encourage you to call Representative Thompson and others immediately and ask that they support The Kind-Flake Fairness Amendment to the farm bill. Here are three links that explain the amendment.

http://www.azcongresswatch.com/?p=3358

http://www.mulchblog.com/2007/07/the_new_york_times_onthe_antir.php

http://www.prnewswire.com/cgi-bin/stories.pl?ACCT=104&STORY=/www/story/07-25-2007/0004632581&EDATE=

Thank you for your time.

Vincent Nattress
Executive Chef
Meadowood Napa Valley

PS: Call Nancy Pelosi too! (202) 225-4965 or (415) 556-4862

I'm not usually a caller-inner, but I did it. There are hundreds of amendments to the bill, so be prepared to tell them that it's the one that supports funding for organic farms. I called the Washington office of both representatives. My friend Karen used to work for a senator, so I know that these things do get logged. If we all call, hopefully it will help.

Fessing Up

I should note that I wasn't always the organic food eating, fancy cooking machine that I am now. I have not eaten chain fast food of any kind for at least 3 years, maybe more. I don't remember the last thing I ate, but I don't eat it any more, not even in airports, not even in foreign countries. Especially not in foreign countries. But I grew up on plenty of McDonald's and Taco Bell.

I remember when Taco Bell had two things on the menu: tacos and burritos, and two choices: meat or bean. Meat came in the yellow paper wrapper, and bean came in the white. It was delicious back then, a welcome treat. Back then (I won't say how far back then, but people who can now buy liquor weren't born yet) it was real food. Beans were beans. Cooked, seasoned, probably even a little lardy, but they were beans. Tortillas were tortillas. Meat was meat. Did you know that their beans have been made from reconstituted dehydrated bean powder for years? Who knows all the additives that are put into the stuff? Not to mention the daily mountains of waste generated from all of the disposable plastic and paper cups, straws and paper, and the disposable plastic and paper containers the pre-made food is shipped in before they dump it in the fryer or the cannibal-sized "bean" pot.

But as a kid, Taco Bell was a delicious, and probably nutritious treat. Note that I do not say "Taco Bell Food". No, when you "go get Taco Bell," you go get Taco Bell. They also gave out cartoon character and superhero glasses. Real glass. Pint-sized. Those lasted forever, and when they broke, besides being heartbroken, you could also recycle them.

In elementary school, my class went on a field trip to McD's, and we had a wonderful time. I can still conjure up that perfect balance of pickle, ketchup, and onion on the little burger I made myself. I have many fond memories of meals there with my grandparents. That was our date restaurant of choice when they took me out for a bite. When the arches still came through the ceiling into the lobby.

Lately, McDonald's has placed ads in magazines, aimed at mother types, claiming that they care more about your child's nutrition than you do. That's right, because little children will ask for fries and chicken McGarbage and sodas and sweet treats, even if Mommy takes them in there with the intent to get a salad for herself and apple slices and milk for them, which McD's has so lovingly and conscientiously provided. Once they have these pleasant McDonaldsy feelings about the place (gained from winning an epic battle of wills with Mommy in a public place, no doubt), they'll return there as teenagers and adults with newfound freedom and eat all the crap they want. It's easy, it's available, and it's cheap. Yeah, and admittedly, it does taste good. As long as you don't think about what's in it.

I don't know how to make a burrito taste like a fast-food burrito. (It's that SAUCE, that vinegary red enchilada-sauce-ish stuff. I don't know how they do it. And the metallic, finely pre-shredded cheese substance.) But I do know how to replicate a fast food burger. Not a fancy burger, just a plain, small burger. Just to keep you out of trouble if you happen to have a craving.

Faux Fast Food Burgers
Ingredients
Hamburger, formed into small patties
Small store-bought white buns, no seeds
White onion, finely diced
Dill pickle
Ketchup
Mustard, yellow
Salt

Tools
Pan
Knife
Parchment paper and/or kitchen towel

Method
Prepare your bun top: a scant teaspoon of finely diced white onion, about 2 tsp of ketchup, 1/2 tsp mustard (optional) and 3 slices of dill pickle.

Cook your burger in the method of your choice. Make sure the patty is no bigger than the bun, so that it is smaller than the size of the bun by about 1/2 inch all the way around when finished. If you grill, don't let it get charred. I prefer to make a thicker burger and then slice it in half horizontally, using one half of the meat on each burger. The important thing is to keep the meat to bun ratio low. Salt the burger on both sides.

Place hot burger in bun and quickly wrap in paper, then in kitchen towel so that the heat of the burger steams the bun. If you have a microwave, you can also put the wrapped burger in for 10-20 seconds.

Leave it there for a few more minutes and then see if that doesn't taste almost like the real fake thing.

This Week in the Garden

Summer Personified

This time of year, beautiful tomatoes are in everything. This was part of our weekend breakfast: eggs over easy on buttered toast with drippy slices of fresh tomato from the garden and a couple of basil leaves. Now that I've made pesto again, we'll spread the toast with the green paste before the egg goes on and then top it with the tomato. I can't give you an exact recipe for pesto, because I've never used one, but here is how I make it:

Basil Pesto
Ingredients
6 garlic cloves
Approximately half a bag or 4 oz of pinenuts
(though you can use almost any kind of nut and it turns out just fine)
Basil- 2 bunches or as much as you have
Parmesan cheese
Olive oil
Salt- just a pinch

Tools
Food processor

Method
1. Peel garlic, place in food processor, spin until all of the garlic is stuck to the sides
2. Add nuts, spin until there are no more big chunks
3. Add basil, filling the bowl. If you have lots, you may need to do this more than once.
4. Pulse several times to get the leaves to start falling into the blade zone at the bottom.
5. While you are doing this, drizzle olive oil into the top of the processor slowly. The basil will start to incorporate into the nut/garlic mixture. Continue until you've blended in all of your basil leaves and you have a wet paste.
6. Add some cheese, blend, then check your savory balance. If the cheese wasn't salty enough, add more cheese, or if it is already thick enough, a little salt.
7. Use your spatula to spoon into small air-tight containers and freeze for long-term use or refrigerate for short term use.

Note: this pesto is not "blanched" meaning the basil is not put into boiling water and then pressed dry before blending. What this means is that it will only be vibrant green when first opened. I don't recommend using it on pasta unless you don't mind it turning brown. Better on tomato sandwiches, salads and cold dishes, or stirred into winter soups. If you want to serve on pasta or gnocchi and keep that vibrant color, you will have to blanch the basil. If you open a container in the fridge, press plastic wrap down on the surface or pour a little extra olive oil over the top to keep the air out.

Nerdy But Useful

I bought a little container of these fun colored binder clips at Staples. I loved the bright colors. I use them in the kitchen to close bags of sugar, flax, flour, nuts, whatever. They are also good for hanging little notes on the fridge magnets. I keep them in the drawer with my leftover produce rubber bands, also used to secure small packages, and my permanent marker for writing the dates on potentially mysterious things. Did you know that you can mark on glass with a Sharpie pen and just rub it off later? You could draw little pictures on people's glasses at a party instead of those dumb little wine charms. Sorry if you are a wine charm fan. They are dorky. But people, including myself, can be depended on to lose their drinks. And who am I to talk, anyway?

No. No. No.

Microwave Panini? Please, I beg of you, do not buy these things. There is something so anti-panini, so absolutely insane, about going to the store to get frozen, pre-packaged sandwiches already impressed with toaster marks, then popping them into the microwave at work. It's like buying microwave toast, or biscuits in a can. Ingenious food science, yes, something to feel good about? No. Just read the labels.

Get some nice vegetables, some slices of turkey breast or whatever, a little cheese, and toast your own sandwich. Put a little arugula on it, a drizzle of balsamic or a little Dijon mustard. It's going to taste so much better than these. You can get this basic George Foreman grill for twenty bucks, or you can use two frying pans and weight the top one with a can, the way Mama used to. Or, if you don't care, buy these things, call it a meal and break my heart. Crack open a can of Spaghettios while you're at it.

But what, you ask, am I going to do for a quick nutritious lunch at work? Well, you could always do the Burrito Factory. We used to do this on the weekends sometimes when we were both working outside the house. You'll need two packages of medium-sized flour tortillas, parchment paper (or foil, or plastic, but I don't want you microwaving those), a can or two of black beans, spiced to your liking, some salsa, creme fraiche or cheese if you like, and if you'd like meat in your burritos, boil up some boneless chicken thighs with a little onion. If you have kids, especially teenagers, enlist their help-- and make twice as much.

Mike and I would get all of our ingredients together and make a little assembly line: warm tortillas on the stove top (for easier folding), stack squares of parchment paper, open all of your cans, stir up the beans in a saucepan, and put spoons in everything. Put one tortilla on one square of parchment, place a couple of spoonfuls of beans, one of meat, salsa, cheese. Fold over one side, then the ends, then the other side, and roll the parchment tightly around it. Stack all of your burritos on a plate, tightly rolled. You can refrigerate just like this, or place in a zip-lock bag. Tasty, nutritious, wholesome, and best of all, fast. They heat up quickly and nicely in a microwave, a toaster oven, or even on a panini grill. You could do the very same thing with sandwiches if you wanted, making up a week's worth of your sandwich of choice on a Sunday afternoon, and just pack your own greens for inside. Maybe the office would be willing to go in on a little grill, and you could grill up your own homemade paninis, too. That would make me very happy.

Summer Wines

On warm summer evenings, nothing hits the spot like a cold rosé or crisp white wine with cold marinated vegetables, Tuscan Cold Supper, and/or a green salad. All of these wines are dry, as opposed to sweet. Even better, these top out at less than $20.

Here are a few summer wines I've tried and liked lately:
Manifesto! Sauvignon Blanc- not only is this a zingy, tasty, not too over-the-top Sauvignon Blanc, but it's made by a very nice person.
Hendry Rosé- juicy strawberry flavors, excellent ice cold on a warm afternoon
Etude Rosé- ditto
Fortitude Rosé- a little bit edgier than both of the above, though still refreshing, with a bit of citrus and pith on the finish. Mike's favorite.
Verget du Sud Rosé de Syrah- no hard edges, food-friendly acid. This was great with our paté and Greek salad last night. Each of the pink wines above was made from a different grape. Worth a taste test to try all four.
Hirsch Veltliner #1- tangy, minerally, crisp. Funky label, screw cap. (Mike HATES this label.) In fact, I think most if not all of these wines are in screw cap. Handy for a picnic or the beach.

Wow. This is Wrong for So Many Reasons

I picked up this link to Jezebel from Neatorama. Scroll down to the big picture and wait for the animation to load, then look at all the photoshopping it took to make a beautiful, normal woman into a magazine cover girl. That isn't even her real arm in the back! Her front arm has been reduced and extended-- if it was real, her arm would reach to her knees!

Wine Country Restaurant/Food Highlights

I can't say enough good things about Uva Trattoria. Yes, it's Italian, which may be passé to you if you prefer restaurants where they play with your food before you eat it. What I love about Uva, besides the unpretentious but well-made food, is the wine list, with plenty of interesting Italian white wines for summer, and the service, which has that friendly spark that is missing from a lot of restaurants. The staff, for the most part, is perky and knowledgeable. They care. They move through the room swiftly and with purpose. We have been there three times in the last two months, and the food and the service have been excellent. Live jazz plays in their lounge next door almost every night of the week. **Uva has had a change of ownership. Though the food is mostly the same, the service is no longer as attentive and perky. We have stopped going.

A short list of some other favorites to try while you're here:

Buster's Barbecue, Calistoga- Super-casual, the best barbecued tri-tip sandwich ever. Avoid the hot sauce unless you like your head to spin and your lips to throb with pain. We get a side of the hot sauce to dip in so we can flirt with danger.

Zuzu- A tapas restaurant. Vibrant, interesting seasonal flavors in a Spanish style. Small plates for lots of sharing. Eclectic wine list.

Pearl- Unboring comfort food. Well-edited menu, gorgeous fresh oysters. Service is attentive, warm but not fawning. Always a good experience.

Bistro Jeanty- (Watch out-- site has loud French accordion music!) Traditional French bistro, some favorites include the Foie Blonde, Escarole Salad with Poached Egg, Croque Monsieur with a glass of rosé at the bar. Tomato Soup en Croute in wintertime. Don't let the Lamb's Tongue Salad scare you away. The large table in the front room is a community table, so even if you haven't made a reservation, you can sometimes still find a spot in this cozy little restaurant.

Celadon- The sometimes quirky menu has a definite global flair, with lots of intriguing choices. Fun cocktails. I do not, however, recommend having a martini here as the gin is shaken within an inch of its life. The arctic ice pack could be revived with the bergs floating past the olives. Owned by the same people that own the underwhelming and overpriced Cole's Chop House.

Bouchon Bakery- I don't want to love it, but I do. Beautiful, rich, quality pastries and breads. The cheese danish is out of this world. If you have that and a double espresso for breakfast, you'll be fueled through dinner time and then some. Except for the sugar crash.

Napa Valley Olive Oil Company- Skip the touristy place across the street from Rutherford Grill that stores perishable products in the front windows and go all the way into St. Helena, down to the end of Charter Oak Ave. to the little white barn. Don't let the screen door slam as you breathe in the aromas of cheese, olives and dry salami. If you speak Italian, you can practice here.

Jimtown Store- On the way to Geyserville and Healdsburg, this is one of our favorite stops. Lots of neat little toys to poke around in, old-fashioned candies, hip linens and kitchen stuff, great picnic food, espresso and more things than I can name. At least one thing that will make you laugh. If you are feeling decadent, go straight to the refrigerators on the right and get yourself a container of their homemade chocolate pudding and a spoon. And then find someplace to sit while you slip into a pudding-induced reverie.

The Chronicle had a good article about picnicking in the wine country. This link is to the article about Sonoma, but there are links to Napa and even San Francisco picnic spots, with information about a bunch of good places to pick up a picnic.

In Sonoma, on the square, we often go to The Wine Exchange. (Update: what a loss! This shop is now closed!) This cool, quiet spot is a good break from the crowds, even on a weekend. We head straight for the little bar in the back and try one of the five unusual beers on tap, but they pour wines as well. Huge imported beer selection. They know what they are talking about, so this is a good place to ask wine questions and pick up a bottle or two. Cold whites, pinks and bubbles in the fridge for your lunch in the park. The tasty Basque Bakery is just a few doors down, unfortunately it's usually crowded. Nothing like a cold glass of chablis and a potato tart, though...

Yes, Even the Leopard Platforms

Good place for it. Put those back and get something sensible, would you?

The American Dream in a Nutshell

Leave it to good ol' Pacific Union College, home of the squeaky clean Adventist education, to make that final leap and remind us why higher education is worth it. All the Cinnabons your little heart desires. This was posted above the escalator in a mall.

Hot Town, Summer in Modesto

Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city

All around, people looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head

But at night it's a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat it'll be alright

Summer in Modesto. Bare, bright cool mornings already simmering with potential heat. Tempers rising with the temperature through the day. My sister and I, newly relocated from the more temperate Salinas valley, would crawl, sweating, from our beds in the middle of the night and awaken in the bathtub, or on the cool linoleum, during the weeks-long, triple-digit heatwaves. I remember opening the refrigerator, half asleep, looking for something to cool me down, and finding a giant open can of pineapple-orange juice and guzzling it straight from the can, sweet, metallic juice running down the sides of my neck. I also remember falling asleep, limp and sweaty, holding a glass of ice water or juice on my chest and being awakened by the shock of cold liquid spilling into my ears when I nodded off and my grasp relaxed.

This was Modesto, and this was the 70s, the height of the energy crisis and a drought. Air-conditioner use was severely restricted by my dad. This meant no air-conditioning at night, or during the day when no one was home. Except someone, meaning me, did get home at 3:00, at least an hour before my dad got home and the automatic timer turned the air on, so sometimes the house was positively sweltering. We were reprimanded many times when Dad got home and the air was still on 70. (Because if you turn it down really low it gets cold faster, right?) Our elderly neighbors, Ray and Vi, kept their house so cool, all the time, that the neighborhood kids would look for excuses to go and visit them, even if it ended up being standing in the doorway for just a minute, feeling the cool air rush past.

We spent a lot of time on the lawn on the shady side of the house when it was put in, drinking gigantic cups of iced tea or diet coke (it's no wonder I can't have caffeine any more!) But as the sun began to go down in the evening, and bedtimes no longer applied (9 o'clock for as long as I can remember) relief began to filter through the air.

Running through the sprinklers was a neighborhood affair. (Because you should only use the sprinklers at night or in the early morning, to thwart excess evaporation.) We kids would run through any sprinklers that belonged to our immediate neighbors, and then maybe take a lap around the block, dodging prickly black crickets flooded out of their hiding places, sidewalks still warm from the day's sun. Sometimes we'd freeze our t-shirts wet and later creak them open and use them to cool the backs of our necks. I think we also froze someone's bra, maybe all of our bras, after a sprinkler session at a slumber party.

At school, air-conditioned to the point of being chilly, recess was a matter of navigating scalding blacktop, rubber mats and hot metal bars. There wasn't really any shade on the playground. All-important was timing your rush to the eight-spigot drinking fountain just before the lines formed, waiting for your turn at the mountain-cold water, and drinking as much as you could, sometimes until your head hurt, or until the yelling started to escalate behind you. If you got the timing wrong, you were ushered back into class clammy and parched. I had a special strategy of carefully folding a brown paper towel from the bathroom into a one-inch-wide strip, wetting it, and placing it behind my collar band, under the collar itself, to keep myself cool.

Sometimes on the weekends or in summer, we'd walk from our house to the local school's pool, barefoot, learning over the course of the first week of summer to bear the heat of the sidewalks themselves, but dashing across the hot asphalt or walking on the white stripes of the crosswalk to cross. The pool was designed for therapy in the school's programs for disabled children, and it was therefore covered and slightly warm at all times. The relief it provided from the heat was more from the diversion it provided, and the relative coolness of walking back home in a state of evaporation.

When I was around 11 or 12, a little girl named Rhonda who lived a few blocks away invited me to come swim in her pool. Almost no one in my neighborhood had a pool. In the next development, the houses were slightly larger, the yards slightly more accommodating, and that's where Rhonda lived. We spent our time mostly in the shallow end, submerged to our waists, replaying songs from Grease over and over on a little tape-recorder at the side of the pool and making up dance routines, copying the movie choreography of Summer Lovin' or Greased Lightnin'. (Did any of those songs not end with n'?) Neither of us was destined to be a cheerleader or a dancer, but oh, those afternoons were bliss. (oh!...those su-u-mmer ni-iiiights...) I still don't remember why they ended, but they eventually did.

In high school, we could finally get out on our own in the evenings, and I still remember how wonderful it was to be able to be out at night, sleeveless, sitting on a park swing or driving with the windows down, the smell of warm peaches in the air, freedom and limitless potential all within our grasp like fruit on a tree.

And babe, don't you know it's a pity
That the days can't be like the nights
In the summer, in the city
In the summer, in the city

More summer here.