tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44812037331608541692024-02-20T23:52:34.437-05:00FlartopiaEat Well, Play Well, Live WellAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.comBlogger469125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-49303355979315864292018-08-28T21:38:00.000-04:002018-08-28T21:38:41.404-04:00TransitionsTime to refresh.<br />
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If any long-time readers happen upon this post, they will notice a major change to this blog. Aside from the fact that I'm posting for the first time in over two years. My furry Flartopian muse is different.<br />
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I started this blog in the early years of Rosie's reign, a decade ago. She was the furry chow/lab mix I called mine, and served as a constant thread through eight years of writing. Politics, farmers' markets, annoying tv commercials, vacations, housecleaning, you name it; there was probably a Rosie reference in there somewhere.<br />
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But life moves on, and change visits all of us. Rosie lived to a respectable 13 years of age, and kept a close guard on my every move until the last. In August of 2017, we had to say a sudden and tearful goodbye to the second Dog of My Heart.<br />
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Fortunately, enough time has passed that I can immediately follow that up with the news of our next four-legged loved one. Maddie came to us also from the Humane Society of Charlotte in April of 2018. For weeks and months, I suspected I'd rushed into things, let Miss Chef talk me into the wrong dog, made a regrettable mistake. But four months later, I'm starting to have those heart-squeezing moments when I look at her sad hound expression, or give a belly laugh at her leg-sprawling antics. She's no Rosie, but she's finding her own way into my heart.<br />
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Of course, other changes have come in the intervening years since I last put finger to keyboard for this blog. For four years, I've kept up a part-time freelance writing presence here in the Charlotte food world, and made many friends, apparently garnered a fair amount of respect, and had some memorable experiences. I've worked through various part-time jobs with very small food-related businesses, finally landing a poorly-paid but full-time position in retail management (still food-related, though).<br />
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And now even bigger changes have been forced upon me. Miss Chef's job is going away, and sadly the other opportunities for culinary instructors here in Charlotte have disintegrated. So she cast her net wide, and came up with a position in a small, very rural community college in western North Carolina.<br />
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As I write this, she is sitting in a hotel room in Murphy, feeling ridiculously unprepared for her first day of classes. The job offer and starting date happened within two weeks, and the school seems less ready for her to start than she was. On top of struggling to find the tools and information she needs to start her new job, she's also trying to find temporary quarters for herself, and, if possible, more permanent ones for both of us plus our small menagerie.<br />
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So here we hang in the balance, me going about my daily routine while trying to rev up the job-hunt machine; she swimming through a sea of bureaucracy to find her way to the classroom. These are dark, frustrating days, but we have to assume that we will emerge into a much brighter future. Transitions are seldom clean and easy. I hope that the dirtier this one proves, the lovelier will be the other side of it.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-42421986781754666372016-04-03T11:01:00.000-04:002016-04-03T11:01:03.009-04:00I've Done Some Things<div>
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So much for my online journal. Six months gone and I have no idea what I've been up to.<br />
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Just kidding! I've been working. Two or three jobs, depending on how you look at it. One used to be a job, but they ran out of money and it seems too important to let it fall apart, so now it's a volunteer position.</div>
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Plus freelance writing. Which is what I blame for sucking away my creative juices that used to charge this page. At the moment I am between deadlines, short of inspiration to pitch any stories. Finally the informal writing itch has re-emerged.</div>
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It was a quiet, tight winter, but spring always seems to breed hope. I keep saying I'm working harder than ever and earning less than ever, but I'm surrounded by intelligent, like-minded people, so it mostly seems worth it. In case I actually have an audience left that's curious about what I've been up to, a brief synopsis:</div>
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Job 1 has changed--it used to be as a Spice Merchant (yes, really) at <a href="http://www.savoryspiceshop.com/" target="_blank">Savory Spice Shop</a>. The pay was low, my feet hurt a lot, but oh, was it interesting. Over 400 individual herbs and spices, plus another 170 proprietary blends to learn and guide customers through.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKy3PiOA3oOjR_nD7tPnRfE6FbozFWnZx6II0CRPMKoDyK1LDEkBhoZZHqETv9nclvWEPdoJ9gmUiQ4lFPWO7VpKllLfUM_gw6T8B0R475bgGMyTjCkkXvK4l38PFFEsnPdWYhH1QqYovh/s1600/IMG_20150114_105543_611.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKy3PiOA3oOjR_nD7tPnRfE6FbozFWnZx6II0CRPMKoDyK1LDEkBhoZZHqETv9nclvWEPdoJ9gmUiQ4lFPWO7VpKllLfUM_gw6T8B0R475bgGMyTjCkkXvK4l38PFFEsnPdWYhH1QqYovh/s400/IMG_20150114_105543_611.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My bosses were kind of friends before I started, and I enjoyed getting to know them and my coworkers better. I left on excellent terms, and still stop in occasionally just to say hello.</div>
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Which is easy, since my new Job 1 is just across the parking lot. It's a local grocery store inside a farmers' market/co-op, called <a href="http://www.queencitypantry.com/" target="_blank">Queen City Pantry</a>. Follow us on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/QueenCityPantry/" target="_blank">Facebook</a>; those posts are mostly mine! I'm pretty much on my own in that job, splitting time with another employee, and between the two of us and the owner, we run the store. I already knew the owner, plus many of the vendors whose products we sell.<br />
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One of the best parts of the new job is that I negotiated Mondays off, which means I get a real weekend! It's a day later than most people's, but still, two days off in a row every week feels like luxury now.</div>
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Job 2 is more interesting--I am one of three part-time employees trying to keep a <a href="http://www.carolinaartisanbread.com/" target="_blank">one-man bakery</a> afloat. My titles include, Delivery Driver, Farmers Market Seller, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/carolinaartisanbreads/" target="_blank">Social Media</a> & Marketing Specialist, and Disapproving School Marm. The stories I could tell...but the one-man baker is one of those intelligent, like-minded people I enjoy spending time with, and the bread is killer. If he ever gets his act together, we'll corner the Charlotte market for real, fresh bread.<br />
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In between, I do some writing. I've written about <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/bees-the-next-backyard-chicken-in-charlotte/Content?oid=3629760" target="_blank">bees</a>, about <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/hunting-for-local-food-at-the-regional-farmers-market/Content?oid=3687316" target="_blank">bananas at the farmers' market,</a> about <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/charlotte-chefs-prep-tomorrows-culinary-tastemakers/Content?oid=3726245" target="_blank">sous chefs</a>, about <a href="http://piedmontculinaryguild.com/meet-pcg-member-dani-rowland-living-the-dream/" target="_blank">farmers</a>, about <a href="http://clture.org/jamesbeardcharlotte/" target="_blank">big-dollar dining events</a>.<br />
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I helped my parents mark 50 years of marriage.<br />
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And just now, I've realized I really need to get my photos in some kind of order. My old computer recently crashed, I've started using cloud storage, only to find my phone had been uploading photos for a while. Now I have photos stored in 3 different places, unlabeled, in no particular order.<br />
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But now I have to go to a pig pickin' with a bunch of chefs and other culinary glitterati at a local brewery. Because I want to. And maybe because I'm getting hungry. Hopefully I'll be back here soon to share some stories, but if not, it's probably because I'm sharing some other stories for money. Which isn't a bad thing.</div>
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-62042321299100732822015-10-28T20:07:00.001-04:002015-10-28T20:07:21.658-04:00Love in the Mountains<p>Every October, Miss Chef and I carve out a few days to get away for a romantic anniversary trip. The mountains are part of what brought us to North Carolina, and I am happy we take advantage of their proximity on a regular basis. It doesn’t hurt that our anniversary falls around leaf-peeping season.</p> <p>We usually stay in the area around Asheville, and this year we opted for the small college town of Brevard. We’d stayed here once before, outside of town, but Miss Chef knows the area better than I, having spent a summer here for a high school program at the college.</p> <p>That time we had rented a cabin in the woods, and brought along Rosie. This time we opted to stay in town, finding our best deal at the Inn at Brevard. Though it sounded promising, and I thought I recalled driving by the grand façade several years earlier, when I later looked it up on Google’s street view I was disappointed to see what looked like an unattractive strip motel.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3HoqKKZwmY0/VjFi-i3MOsI/AAAAAAAAJGU/ynk7o5f8zGM/s1600-h/image%25255B7%25255D.png"><img title="image" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="image" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KaqCSjjXDA0/VjFi_2C7-YI/AAAAAAAAJGc/B75LWQIRQCE/image_thumb%25255B8%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="604" height="416"></a></p> <p>Ah well, I thought, we can’t always fall lucky. I knew we’d still enjoy our time away, regardless of the accommodations.</p> <p>Well, I was wrong. We did fall lucky this time. Turns out the main building does have some rooms in it, six to be precise. And somehow, though we’d only booked a couple of weeks in advance, we’d ended up in one of them. </p> <p>It also turns out that this house is indeed historic, built in 1885 for a wealthy widow from Virginia. It has been maintained in that effusive Victorian style marked by delicate, expensive clutter everywhere you look. Normally this style seems irritatingly fussy to me, but I was instantly smitten by its unapologetic charm. I quickly fell in love with this silly place.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QHox9illp2o/VjFjAr-aaLI/AAAAAAAAJGk/FV_cDSClQ1s/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252817%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (17)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (17)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tUMkc4ze1us/VjFjBK5NnqI/AAAAAAAAJGo/yVTcEe4nwzU/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252817%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>This is the main entrance—clusters of chairs interspersed with lace-covered tables mobbed by family portraits and extravagantly shaded lamps, with walls obscured by paintings of various eras and levels of artistry. As we mounted the stairs, I told Miss Chef it reminded me of Harry Potter, and I kept half an eye open for unexpected movement within the frames.</p> <p>Our room was decorated in an equally exuberant, albeit more rustic style.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XFyMO57fiTU/VjFjB0P96WI/AAAAAAAAJG0/pyEYmApp8wI/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%2525285%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (5)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (5)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7fUwEBtzdXY/VjFjCTOXkcI/AAAAAAAAJG4/tu8kJMKp9Q4/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>There were three mirrors in the room, not counting the one in the bathroom. I sadly didn’t get a photo of the freestanding tub, but I did get one of the wallhanging over the bed that entranced both of us.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7Saht7NQNF4/VjFjCy8dLjI/AAAAAAAAJHE/sea3iKwG0OA/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%2525283%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (3)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (3)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lEJZo8v11n4/VjFjDqDVC2I/AAAAAAAAJHM/i8QeB73FTng/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Yes, as far as I could tell, that’s real, thought Miss Chef seemed obsessed with the possible authenticity of the teeth. I suppose this recalls a Victorian gentleman’s hunting lodge décor, though several of the amateur paintings leaned more in the direction of Wild West cabin.</p> <p>The next morning, I had to snap a few more pictures downstairs before we left for the day.</p> <p>The main dining room. There’s a small bar through the white door you see on the far side of the dark wood sideboard. This isn’t just an inn, it’s a bed and breakfast with dinner service open to the public.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5S0C-ZdCneo/VjFjEZSuuEI/AAAAAAAAJHU/QDfd3a9KJ5E/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252810%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (10)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (10)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-M0ZViCBLKbc/VjFjE9RmAjI/AAAAAAAAJHY/k9CufEqc34s/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252810%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>I couldn’t resist the gravitational pull of that highly ornamented sideboard. There was just so much to look at!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3uxpJsOx3_4/VjFjFotAdRI/AAAAAAAAJHk/l7-woFRjrDk/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252814%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (14)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (14)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5ST7X-SIPCA/VjFjGUCMLzI/AAAAAAAAJHs/j-tfOAFN_ys/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252814%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Here’s a shot from the far end of the dining room across the main entrance and into the breakfast dining area. Mirrors, mirrors everywhere.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MsCK4Wgm6Yw/VjFjGyH44BI/AAAAAAAAJHw/xVrn35l7SIo/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252816%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (16)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (16)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kj2NEVx89VQ/VjFjHQLKc_I/AAAAAAAAJH4/hjBOTnriBpc/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252816%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>And another angle into the breakfast room.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zhRf8bvh33w/VjFjH-uITgI/AAAAAAAAJIE/M5OVR5rkBsg/s1600-h/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252818%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Inn at Brevard 10 (18)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Inn at Brevard 10 (18)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3Ax5aLWyRqI/VjFjIZ4MHbI/AAAAAAAAJII/lv4ESbGQVTs/Inn%252520at%252520Brevard%25252010%252520%25252818%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Though we did spend a lovely morning wandering through downtown Brevard, it wasn’t until we headed off in the afternoon toward Asheville that I felt compelled to pull the camera out. We took the long way around, through Pisgah National Forest and along the Blue Ridge Parkway. Miss Chef drove the whole way, for which I was enormously grateful. She seemed to enjoy my ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the ever-changing views as much as the views themselves.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QGj2EayAZN4/VjFjJKvyZJI/AAAAAAAAJIU/R6zFZ5B-cJA/s1600-h/Mountains%25252010%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Mountains 10" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Mountains 10" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MIAg7R_kiq0/VjFjJqb17UI/AAAAAAAAJIY/c3vvsacqo3s/Mountains%25252010_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I retouched this photo to lighten it up, as the day was pretty overcast and the camera failed to capture the scene as well as the eye. I’d guess we finally hit the area during the peak of the fall color. It really looked like the mountains were overlaid with a fluffy quilt picked out in colors of gold, orange, red and burgundy. A color scheme I’d never choose, but which Mother Nature uses to incredible effect.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FeJJkuvNU8U/VjFjKbQ3PII/AAAAAAAAJIk/nzJEcnXfDLI/s1600-h/Mountains%25252010%252520%25252812%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Mountains 10 (12)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Mountains 10 (12)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8o38HLqH8fo/VjFjK72xppI/AAAAAAAAJIo/mBO-IPhf_4Q/Mountains%25252010%252520%25252812%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We dined at Nightbell, the second restaurant of Katie Button, who owns Cúrate where we’ve had to eat during every trip to Asheville the past five years or so. It was ok, but several of the dishes seemed better in theory than they turned out in reality—flavors overcome with sauces, traditional dishes that were good, but not particularly interesting.</p> <p>We returned to Asheville the next morning, for brunch at Rhubarb, which was much more our style. Lots of locally-sourced ingredients, and Miss Chef was happy to find a brunch that included lunch items as more than an afterthought.</p> <p>Of course I had to explore the offerings of French Broad Chocolate Lounge, which recently moved into much larger, more centrally located digs.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NFT_1rQBRA0/VjFjLRjdnPI/AAAAAAAAJI0/g0EOYpmDyww/s1600-h/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525284%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Asheville 10 (4)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Asheville 10 (4)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--BQuMX7LoSc/VjFjL9VYg_I/AAAAAAAAJI4/9rF4Ah4l6os/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525284%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vUtdiEl3pAk/VjFjMjGsXSI/AAAAAAAAJJE/9IYvILdbcGM/s1600-h/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525286%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Asheville 10 (6)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Asheville 10 (6)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ncaJ8pOqL10/VjFjNISnsPI/AAAAAAAAJJI/7MLlPOax9ME/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525286%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef spoiled me by stocking up on any bar of 60% cacao she could find. She does know what I like.</p> <p>And I know what she likes. So I was perfectly ok with taking another detour on the way home, to visit Fonta Flora brewery in Morganton. Nothing like a midafternoon drink to ease your way back into reality.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--bAc-hVhbH0/VjFjNlIqufI/AAAAAAAAJJU/DKGpVPmloho/s1600-h/Fonta%252520Flora%25252010%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Fonta Flora 10" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Fonta Flora 10" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FejwGitlQwE/VjFjOCcIqlI/AAAAAAAAJJY/nGmGIFMDoDE/Fonta%252520Flora%25252010_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-81855925423111648362015-10-13T18:36:00.001-04:002015-10-13T18:36:40.216-04:00Food, Fights, and Blood<p>When I go so long between blog posts, I usually depend on the trail of photographs captured on my phone to remember what I’ve been up to. And each time I delve down into those archives, I am grateful for what I find.</p> <p>As summer turns to fall, I find I’ve been welcomed to many feasts.</p> <p align="center">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p> <p>At the end of August, there was the first-ever Charlotte Food Fight, organized between the Piedmont Culinary Guild and the local chapter of the American Culinary Federation. The former is a new nonprofit started by Charlotte-area chefs, farmers and food artisans to create a network in support of the local food chain. The latter is part of a national organization best known for its certification program for professional chefs.</p> <p>The event was held in the kitchens of the culinary program of the local community college. Each side presented an amuse bouche, appetizer, main course and dessert. They were plated at different stations, with guests circulating at will, and able to enjoy a North Carolina wine paired with each dish.</p> <p>Naturally, I volunteered my way in, and so did Miss Chef. She is a member of both organizations, while I proudly wear my 4 PCG t-shirts any chance I get.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kCyqTHormWA/Vh2HIPF08gI/AAAAAAAAJBQ/PZKhl58FAxw/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-187pYzZMDqo/Vh2HI5cwEuI/AAAAAAAAJBY/-KQ52Q5kocY/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008_thumb%25255B13%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="516" height="636"></a></p> <p align="center">Photo credit <a href="http://heidibillottofood.com/" target="_blank">Heidi Billotto</a></p> <p> </p> <p>Once our volunteer duties were done, we were free to get in on the fun. Here are just a few highlights of “my” team. (Hey, I don’t give a toss about sports, so why not back these guys/gals?)</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Un_S1dS4jnM/Vh2HJg8jDuI/AAAAAAAAJBg/UPKQn_Zirlo/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%2525284%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08 (4)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08 (4)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pnsLz53hm-U/Vh2HKLRKeuI/AAAAAAAAJBk/u_7PlCKS9z8/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%2525284%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>That’s just one station above, with four chefs working elbow-to-elbow. No attitudes here.</p> <p>This next photo is of the PCG’s appetizer, but I failed to get a description. I remember that’s crab meat on top of a panna cotta, and popcorn shoots as a garnish, but that’s all I remember. This is from one of the chefs I admire most, Paul Verica of <a href="http://www.heritagefoodanddrink.com/" target="_blank">Heritage Food & Drink</a>. His plating is beautiful.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1C__kLIAwTU/Vh2HKph_6JI/AAAAAAAAJBs/wKW5C5jMUIc/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252823%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08 (23)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08 (23)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8nehr_JgciM/Vh2HLCHKitI/AAAAAAAAJB0/SbovMqv6AYM/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252823%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="399"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>This was the main course…simplified, it’s pork with squash purée and chimichurri. Of course, there’s a lot more in there, like pork belly. But whatever…yum.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MfnFBMGgdJg/Vh2HLtbvwGI/AAAAAAAAJB8/2kfxa_hl-_0/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%2525288%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08 (8)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08 (8)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bECHXmv-WjA/Vh2HMac_ezI/AAAAAAAAJCE/uQVLHmY8sQ0/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%2525288%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>The dessert was presented by an all-lady team from 300 East. That’s a squash <em>cremeux</em> that’s being bruléed. I declare this the best way to eat squash, hands down. <a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2R_4L7-tEM0/Vh2HMxUReDI/AAAAAAAAJCQ/cGtESubi6v4/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252817%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08 (17)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08 (17)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EsPO69PDzKg/Vh2HNawq29I/AAAAAAAAJCU/DNwU-kSPE8g/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252817%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eZinj_D_C48/Vh2HN3v5rjI/AAAAAAAAJCg/t1AjHA2OII4/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252834%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08 (34)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08 (34)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ToE-Fp2L6dM/Vh2HOeS7ZwI/AAAAAAAAJCk/5Eyra5XxlRM/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252834%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I’ll save you all the buildup and say the PCG blew the competition out of the water. The chefs, though pretty damn tired, were exuberant about their victory.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GeCZPEEWppg/Vh2HO76CqUI/AAAAAAAAJCw/e1YrXj-T1bw/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252875%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 08 (75)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 08 (75)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LERykd43idw/Vh2HP95OmxI/AAAAAAAAJC0/gnEPHbjmSf4/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252008%252520%25252875%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The event was themed like a prizefight, thus the gaudy championship belt. In the ensuing months, it has made the rounds to all the establishments of the competing chefs. Ironically, as I happened to be in the last establishment this afternoon for lunch, I was asked to fetch it. So right now it’s in my living room. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jp5jhbqCV7E/Vh2HQpCPekI/AAAAAAAAJC8/oJTvRZbat8Y/s1600-h/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252010%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="PCG Food Fight 10" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="PCG Food Fight 10" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bV-xCICuhGo/Vh2HRXD1nAI/AAAAAAAAJDE/vVdX0_d3ook/PCG%252520Food%252520Fight%25252010_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I feel like a winner!</p> <p align="center">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p> <p>In September I was also invited to the first in what is hoped to be a series of food + art events, created by <a href="http://clture.org/" target="_blank">CLTure</a>, an online entity I’ve done some writing for. It featured another of my favorite chefs, Luca Annunziata of <a href="http://thepassion8.com/" target="_blank">Passion8</a> (who incidentally, invited Miss Chef to the initial meeting of what turned into the PCG). He was paired with a local artist, <a href="http://www.alexandraloesser.com/" target="_blank">Alexandra Loesser</a>, and asked to create dishes based on five paintings commissioned for the event.</p> <p>Turns out, they share a fascination with blood.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-C4QHONjuL3M/Vh2HR9VSniI/AAAAAAAAJDM/1u5hDzKJ0oM/s1600-h/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%25252827%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Culinary Canvas 09 (27)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Culinary Canvas 09 (27)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-h9IB2RVaaUQ/Vh2HSeE84wI/AAAAAAAAJDU/MmFDSTZm7BE/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%25252827%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>The artist’s current focus is on showing the contrast of beauty and brutality in nature. We tend to prettify it, thinking that “natural” means peaceful and harmonious. Nope, not always!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FTQVp09yhXY/Vh2HSg3DOFI/AAAAAAAAJDg/BcEggHdMVvg/s1600-h/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%2525284%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Culinary Canvas 09 (4)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Culinary Canvas 09 (4)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-atIfWgb6T8U/Vh2HTHsbymI/AAAAAAAAJDk/Rssxphp-luY/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%2525284%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="382"></a></p> <p> </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tq9hVu_HM7-FNxqlcNiqmICV46Wx9cDaeGGM60KgMM0BDo54x4pZUa9UFzDQQXNTBnRywvaC32V9qkZKF35ACWDDp1jJYrbZI4qME9MjIedvliZqJ5FDXBi2IUeaaBZDSNlLFSKHVuV9/s1600-h/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%25252825%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Culinary Canvas 09 (25)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Culinary Canvas 09 (25)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HcfF0r6eZ_o/Vh2HUGZzMVI/AAAAAAAAJD0/6hwqdiSvat8/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%25252825%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>We got a little break with dessert, thankfully. Just a simple sweet potato panna cotta. Blood free.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Xc7TIc16tm0/Vh2HUoDegDI/AAAAAAAAJEA/RDo4P8zsTWs/s1600-h/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%25252832%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Culinary Canvas 09 (32)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Culinary Canvas 09 (32)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gQygq2-8I74/Vh2HVEHI2TI/AAAAAAAAJEE/WLPkb0tQaWA/Culinary%252520Canvas%25252009%252520%25252832%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p align="center">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p> <p>Somewhere in between those two events, I attended a PCG get-together at a local rum distillery.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YKym04yNo8U/Vh2HV6A-oCI/AAAAAAAAJEM/YoSPJxJMT20/s1600-h/Muddy%252520River%25252009%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Muddy River 09 (1)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Muddy River 09 (1)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yE5zpknuRjc/Vh2HWSkeghI/AAAAAAAAJEU/YBur8lNYuZQ/Muddy%252520River%25252009%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aLEXqUOQ0Wk/Vh2HW8eGP-I/AAAAAAAAJEc/zTZfeWGDAG0/s1600-h/Muddy%252520River%25252009%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Muddy River 09" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Muddy River 09" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fS7kLCSyLpQ/Vh2HXfaR8KI/AAAAAAAAJEk/gfWMknMGhPg/Muddy%252520River%25252009_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>And just this past weekend, Miss Chef and several of our friends took part in the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DilworthSouthEndChiliCookOff" target="_blank">South End Chili Cookoff</a>.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oDz8hXLFGM0/Vh2HX4QE7lI/AAAAAAAAJEw/sdyu8GPRATU/s1600-h/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chili cookoff 10 (1)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chili cookoff 10 (1)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xsmtYTd2Nkg/Vh2HYDyZt1I/AAAAAAAAJE0/dDo9MazcWTY/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1bz3OfQsODw/Vh2HY_UMiXI/AAAAAAAAJFA/HhU4KexQH2s/s1600-h/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525283%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chili cookoff 10 (3)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chili cookoff 10 (3)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1E2Zx-AwJN4/Vh2HZdQ11rI/AAAAAAAAJFE/ABO-UKv8Y88/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i6rTQifQBD8/Vh2HaMmJM8I/AAAAAAAAJFQ/FtF31XE7H_k/s1600-h/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525285%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chili cookoff 10 (5)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chili cookoff 10 (5)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-REOzFejJhnE/Vh2HbLGyREI/AAAAAAAAJFU/LJgYreFMydU/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KCGVX1OQijc/Vh2Hb3gFkdI/AAAAAAAAJFc/McCk4dB6Iy8/s1600-h/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525286%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chili cookoff 10 (6)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chili cookoff 10 (6)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SWAlsc4Vwj8/Vh2HcXtNPJI/AAAAAAAAJFk/WQNXd72Gd00/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%2525286%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It was a very Fido-friendly event. I think it’s organized in conjunction with a local firehouse. For a city with mostly cat sports mascots, Charlotte really loves its dogs.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4i8y9RMYDRA/Vh2HdMViimI/AAAAAAAAJFw/G2shC46_OL8/s1600-h/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%25252810%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chili cookoff 10 (10)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chili cookoff 10 (10)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iurntrBIuLI/Vh2HdiSOxGI/AAAAAAAAJF4/7jLPc85TnzI/Chili%252520cookoff%25252010%252520%25252810%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="492"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>I had to head off to work shortly after this started, but Miss Chef’s team didn’t win anyway so I guess I didn’t miss much. </p> <p>And that pretty much takes me up to today which, though being a Tuesday, is kind of my Friday. So I’m about to kick back and enjoy a little R&R.</p> <p>Right after I figure out what’s for dinner.</p> <p><em>For those keeping up with my writing career, I just had another cover story published, about the place of local food at the big regional farmers market in Charlotte. You can read it <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/hunting-for-local-food-at-the-regional-farmers-market/Content?oid=3687316" target="_blank">here</a>. </em></p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-33206301935573143362015-09-27T20:40:00.001-04:002015-09-27T20:40:58.920-04:00We’re not in San Fran anymore<p>Honestly. I can’t decide if I’m busily occupied or overwhelmed with busy-ness. But blogging hasn’t even registered on my “To Do” list for, like, months. I’ve had a hard enough time fitting paid writing into my schedule, I wasn’t even remotely interested in writing “for fun.”</p> <p>Except that I’ve now blown two of my rare writing days doing very little, and finally realized I don’t know what to write. I think this is what they call writer’s block. I’ve never had it so bad.</p> <p>So, to somehow make up for it, or maybe just to get some words down, I’ll unroll the ol’ blog page and see what falls out of my brain.</p> <p>It seem only appropriate, though it’s three months later, to share the highlights from the remainder of our trip West. These will appear in non-chronological order, and will depend entirely on what sparks my memory and what photos I like enough to share.</p> <p>There was a half-day on Alcatraz, which was more interesting than I’d expected, if only for the ferry ride across the beautiful bay.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ema5X89lz9M/VgiMIyqJ2aI/AAAAAAAAI6Q/E13Eg-HfVJc/s1600-h/20150630_091559%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150630_091559" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150630_091559" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQka3KUp0QlVjS_v3fySE8BAuGTSmCcSVftBYZMUFHONxhle-Aoao0oOS_rwpkg9Igp8BKoLBqqIOghaGiwpEKqqIhWOg9kluYM7kf3qkWdcXqFOr-w65N6B1tcKnMoKsTsIYlw8v2VSx/?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Selfie time!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-L8OQVYqg2s8/VgiMJ9LDBBI/AAAAAAAAI6g/GOOlO1N7mkA/s1600-h/20150630_092721%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150630_092721" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150630_092721" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9D2HvmcDuGM/VgiMKuJ0ykI/AAAAAAAAI6o/CVYWhIAqqGU/20150630_092721_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="504" height="379"></a></p> <p>I had no idea there were gardens there, which have been maintained and restored. Made for pretty pictures.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_1VtNk9-mkc/VgiMMHTevWI/AAAAAAAAI6w/QSNU9N9TQ9Q/s1600-h/20150630_113945%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150630_113945" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150630_113945" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1O6q_F4wLxs/VgiMMhBayRI/AAAAAAAAI64/GOx2Otj5Lfo/20150630_113945_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Also, nobody tells you most of the place smells like bird guano in the summer heat. Birds, birds, everywhere.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_ZCkzjGCVLA/VgiMNPAhblI/AAAAAAAAI7A/YAImq-P-yF0/s1600-h/20150630_112900%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150630_112900" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150630_112900" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7Z5iYwGpV-c/VgiMN14SjFI/AAAAAAAAI7I/JtUjAiIhc8o/20150630_112900_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xnrcaNOZjjM/VgiMOACjbgI/AAAAAAAAI7Q/tluuCJ-8FJg/s1600-h/20150630_114005%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150630_114005" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150630_114005" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IcKZwWywTjo/VgiMOsnnxaI/AAAAAAAAI7Y/k03qSe8wQWg/20150630_114005_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Requisite shot inside the cell block.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xyLnWJ1tSqg/VgiMPUO2SbI/AAAAAAAAI7g/nphDAxZEIQo/s1600-h/2015-06-30%25252015.14.27%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="2015-06-30 15.14.27" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2015-06-30 15.14.27" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b-GnDrTcm48/VgiMPwuDOCI/AAAAAAAAI7o/ymMESCJzSoo/2015-06-30%25252015.14.27_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>There was our day trip down the coast to Monterey, to visit the aquarium, a bucket-lister for me!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4wgLeYKhz4Y/VgiMQCjk9LI/AAAAAAAAI7w/iH6Yk2A86ZU/s1600-h/20150701_105135%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150701_105135" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150701_105135" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IfTxxdQOwZg/VgiMQuwpVqI/AAAAAAAAI70/T2iDGrAhtMI/20150701_105135_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef has a thing for sea otters, so that was one of the first exhibits we stopped at.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bVSSrUC1gc8/VgiMRCI6imI/AAAAAAAAI8A/MqD3rhMK768/s1600-h/20150701_110611%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150701_110611" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150701_110611" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6kpfbaKWVE4/VgiMRu_oGzI/AAAAAAAAI8I/LZpRQBWm3u4/20150701_110611_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Having visited many an aquarium, including the amazing 6-million gallon tank at the newer Georgia Aquarium, I was a little underwhelmed at how typical the exhibits were. And then I stopped at the kelp forest exhibit. I think my jaw may have dropped, and I know I got a little teary-eyed from utter delight.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iNDX80QhzvU/VgiMSDoPnyI/AAAAAAAAI8Q/IF2ELUsTVVE/s1600-h/20150701_150537%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150701_150537" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150701_150537" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8e2qc2DN1fg/VgiMSgMid7I/AAAAAAAAI8Y/rK7ZIL7zG6I/20150701_150537_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>This is a fraction the size of that Georgia tank, but the huge strands of kelp swaying in the artificial waves and the natural schooling patterns of the fish make you feel like you are standing on the floor of the bay. I was surprised to remember I was perfectly dry and not in a submersible or something. Amazing. I came back again at the end of our visit, just to soak in a few more minutes of sheer bliss.</p> <p>We may or may not have spent a lot of money in the gift shop there. Miss Chef does have an astounding number of sea otter themed shirts now, though.</p> <p>For our foodie friends back home, one of the biggest highlights was our day in Napa Valley and our evening at the French Laundry. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-efcGdYKY4bU/VgiMTjHndUI/AAAAAAAAI8g/U0nV-em2LW4/s1600-h/20150702_101900%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_101900" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_101900" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VUyUuhtJD0I/VgiMUOOwv_I/AAAAAAAAI8o/RpHRe6bK3N4/20150702_101900_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Entrance and cellars to Schramsberg, one of the oldest wineries in the valley. Those bottles are stacked about 14 rows deep, if I remember correctly.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YbiBnOjfZVg/VgiMU0SVLVI/AAAAAAAAI8w/4fw-C2ksyfs/s1600-h/20150702_104658%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_104658" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_104658" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8w0EiTcWA-A/VgiMVe6g6XI/AAAAAAAAI84/cZLS9c9gKeU/20150702_104658_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Our tasting room was very dramatic. And delicious.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tP_3qr31iEU/VgiMV2Yn7JI/AAAAAAAAI9A/PxUmrWepXgw/s1600-h/20150702_110928%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_110928" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_110928" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nR14qYb_U0I/VgiMWT0UvMI/AAAAAAAAI9I/L_JxPjaAq9k/20150702_110928_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ODsODBF_6hI/VgiMXEyV9aI/AAAAAAAAI9Q/sj813D1zCos/s1600-h/20150702_164852%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_164852" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_164852" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Rh-7HaNNdE8/VgiMXpuqNlI/AAAAAAAAI9Y/2eRX28BKHEw/20150702_164852_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>We only visited 4 wineries, but managed to end up with 14 bottles plus two memberships in wine clubs.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sm57TQ81iXQ/VgiMYMLiyqI/AAAAAAAAI9g/mtS5E0VMVPo/s1600-h/20150703_122210%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150703_122210" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150703_122210" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-M_pQf8P8W1o/VgiMYkKWsHI/AAAAAAAAI9o/Ii7o2N59lOM/20150703_122210_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Sending those bottles home in climate-controlled shipping was so prohibitively expensive we ended up buying the packaging and checking them as additional luggage. Every bottle made it safely home.</p> <p>That afternoon we took a short nap in order to stay awake through our dinner at the French Laundry that night. Our reservations were at 9:15! When we arrived, we had to wait about 10 minutes in the courtyard, which was no hardship.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FsLEtoMUn4c/VgiMZgA0QfI/AAAAAAAAI9w/B9aoZgqZr4s/s1600-h/20150702_211305%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_211305" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_211305" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-RG-KKvfHhJw/VgiMaNAkFMI/AAAAAAAAI90/Wc8mbSG7MY4/20150702_211305_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It’s hard to describe the experience of dining in America’s most famous restaurant. I was surprised the menu wasn’t more innovative, but Thomas Keller is interested in doing pure, quality food grown nearby, rather than pushing the envelope. The service was impeccable, and not in any way intimidating. The servers were warm, though professional, and took care of every detail with poise. One detail: when you leave the table for the bathroom, they don’t just fold your napkin, they bring you an entirely new one. Laundry, indeed.</p> <p>Something about the place keeps you from pulling your phone out to photograph every dish, though you know your Facebook friends are dying to hear how dinner went. Too bad for them. I took only two pictures inside.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-np44oTi1Jpo/VgiMaWhmmyI/AAAAAAAAI-A/5_CNV_okPGc/s1600-h/20150702_213754_001%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_213754_001" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_213754_001" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iWpMucVhiig/VgiMa00smrI/AAAAAAAAI-I/u_g4LMU5Nbs/20150702_213754_001_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>This is what I posted for my Facebook friends. You get to keep the laundry pin that comes with your napkin, and it becomes kind of a talisman for Those Who Have Been.</p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-o7VaXfbZ7Lo/VgiMbTYDMwI/AAAAAAAAI-M/l2-7GtWeMxw/s1600-h/20150702_223653%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150702_223653" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150702_223653" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YYwHfjgEY5o/VgiMb2XeJaI/AAAAAAAAI-U/PrwoeaE95f0/20150702_223653_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>I stared at one of these across the room for an hour or two before figuring out these weren’t stylized initials or Russian characters. They are laundry instruction symbols! Get it? (Machine wash, no bleach, iron)</p> <p>We didn’t leave until after 1 am. Along with copies of the menu, we also got some goodies to take home.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fPjSCzzdJe0/VgiMcZma1PI/AAAAAAAAI-g/R3Dg5m8YQH4/s1600-h/20150703_091000%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150703_091000" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150703_091000" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-edOdbsR0Zpg/VgiMc_k26MI/AAAAAAAAI-o/C1ZLjESVISE/20150703_091000_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>So long Napa, you were very good to us. </p> <p>At some point, we also had dinner at Chez Panisse, where Alice Waters kick-started the whole local-food movement, way back in the 70s. Well, that’s Berkeley for you, I guess.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t9YZpeeVyZk/VgiMdZeV9SI/AAAAAAAAI-w/IykONAf-abE/s1600-h/20150629_193426%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150629_193426" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150629_193426" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QpNbzyNDYT0/VgiMd48BmlI/AAAAAAAAI-4/fbVKe341YYw/20150629_193426_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>That was one of our better meals—totally classic French-inspired. Old school, but still fresh and interesting. I also broke the world’s record for painful bladder stretching on the way back via Bart. Half a bottle of wine plus lots of water will do that to you.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4F1nznj6fYc/VgiMenoBxBI/AAAAAAAAI_A/tXRlQ5H14CQ/s1600-h/20150629_164602%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150629_164602" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150629_164602" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tAVr3waSclw/VgiMe70_gwI/AAAAAAAAI_I/9Y86Bdk4bDU/20150629_164602_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>With all the amazing food we ate and places we visited, many people asked upon my return what my favorite part was. The answer has to be, just about everything. California is so different from everywhere else I’ve been, I loved getting a feel for a completely novel landscape and climate.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NyJHury5HL8/VgiMfkubmPI/AAAAAAAAI_Q/kdG_0ApQA80/s1600-h/20150627_143926%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150627_143926" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_143926" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PwXDcCikw1M/VgiMgAW75yI/AAAAAAAAI_Y/f54K04SFdGY/20150627_143926_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UVbQVpZaQCM/VgiMgtCYM1I/AAAAAAAAI_g/_GUCUn7F7Ig/s1600-h/20150629_134912%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150629_134912" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150629_134912" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_7-JJx2j9zs/VgiMhAVXN0I/AAAAAAAAI_o/0vshoBF9d9M/20150629_134912_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7i6pMSYQJpc/VgiMhn7MGZI/AAAAAAAAI_w/tImLqvSRJN8/s1600-h/20150630_120442%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150630_120442" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150630_120442" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Jsn5Ip6aM4s/VgiMiDKPTfI/AAAAAAAAI_0/MFAWJie-ndA/20150630_120442_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p align="center"><font color="#4f81bd">Golden Gate Bridge shrouded in midday fog, from Alcatraz ferry</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YAXbd7dQoT8/VgiMi8MNNsI/AAAAAAAAJAA/5forMamG1Ms/s1600-h/20150701_093416%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150701_093416" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150701_093416" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2U3EiNcn_DI/VgiMjQyWN5I/AAAAAAAAJAE/eQ_BRowF6X8/20150701_093416_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p align="center"><font color="#4f81bd">Huge fields of strawberries and artichokes on the way to Monterey.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1h0cdHwA_lA/VgiMj9wSJOI/AAAAAAAAJAQ/1jyFobjTRiE/s1600-h/20150703_124558%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150703_124558" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150703_124558" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Vy3qrzFMKdQ/VgiMkd1K2qI/AAAAAAAAJAY/cCBiOp1YdT4/20150703_124558_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p align="center"><font color="#4f81bd">Sonoma Valley, which looked more like wine country than Napa Valley.</font></p> <p>I was also delighted to forge a stronger connection with my family out there, getting to know my aunt and uncle as an adult, meeting one cousin for the first time, and hearing some old family stories from a different point of view.</p> <p>As for the most memorable thing I ate? I think that would have to go to the <em>pain au chocolat</em> from Tartine Bakery.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1pHp0tYXHeU/VgiMkzdHQPI/AAAAAAAAJAg/Zl53HXFKQaI/s1600-h/20150629_095719%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150629_095719" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150629_095719" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ILjuV2mt8e4/VgiMlbRGrcI/AAAAAAAAJAo/0zQ6DmxPKrc/20150629_095719_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>As usual, the end of the trip arrived before we were ready for it. I took a few last shots from the plane as we headed away from the sun, back to the eastern side of the continent.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zsbklpHVz0A/VgiMl7uSxcI/AAAAAAAAJAw/HxcGwHKqMOg/s1600-h/20150704_130632%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150704_130632" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150704_130632" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-I5cez7D8h8U/VgiMmV2XsdI/AAAAAAAAJA4/_4UZQs9MXfQ/20150704_130632_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p align="center"><font color="#4f81bd">Some mountain or something, probably east of San Francisco. Notice how dry the land is.</font></p> <p>And that, my friends, is that. Now it’s fall in North Carolina, and we’re already planning our annual mountain getaway next month. In between, lots of work, volunteering, special events and full schedules. One of these days I may catch up with myself. In the meantime, hope y’all enjoyed this vicarious vacation. I know I did, just now.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-90644952549411221012015-07-08T12:35:00.001-04:002015-07-08T12:35:27.681-04:00San Francisco Day 2<p>Looking at my photos, I have to admit this day was mostly about food. But in our defense, it <em>was</em> Saturday, and that always means farmers market morning, even on vacation! We had been admonished by foodie friends not to miss the <a href="http://www.ferrybuildingmarketplace.com/farmers_market.php" target="_blank">one at the Ferry Plaza</a>, so off we went.</p> <p>Since one of my multiple jobs back home is with a small bakery, I had to check out the variety offered here. In summary, there was a lot of it.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mQ3UZjrmmWU/VZ1RCi7Z_DI/AAAAAAAAI3U/I_VpC_aOd74/s1600-h/20150627_1040564.jpg"><img title="20150627_104056" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_104056" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D7kRdl8ZDrg/VZ1RDeoSycI/AAAAAAAAI3c/jhY8TcxM7ys/20150627_104056_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>The seasons are different here than in North Carolina, but there are also some crops I’ve never seen at our markets back home any time of the year.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-35x4ZdJMKag/VZ1REDKxhFI/AAAAAAAAI3k/OgWwGhKltfs/s1600-h/20150627_1047114.jpg"><img title="20150627_104711" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_104711" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VBlbO-enTDw/VZ1REp9cXBI/AAAAAAAAI3s/V3kxKDoPQJ8/20150627_104711_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Artichokes are a type of thistle, and I guess this is what happens when you don’t harvest them in time.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-u3O7J0wNMt4/VZ1RFw7Ii1I/AAAAAAAAI30/VyNNPDnEiBI/s1600-h/20150627_1114144.jpg"><img title="20150627_111414" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_111414" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DntrvUj-Wjk/VZ1RG7R3ROI/AAAAAAAAI38/ltAbSSjw14g/20150627_111414_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>After working our way through the whole place, we took a long walk up to Fisherman’s Wharf, made stop in a cheesy souvenir shop, then we met up with my older cousin. He had offered to drive us around a bit, so our first point of order was a short trip across the iconic Golden Gate Bridge.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mptO7iXeig8/VZ1RHkeeYtI/AAAAAAAAI4E/5SEbXdLvDfU/s1600-h/20150627_1437264.jpg"><img title="20150627_143726" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_143726" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-46pu4TTImFs/VZ1RIIjtylI/AAAAAAAAI4M/1fG_CTJdRMA/20150627_143726_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>And while I hate photos of myself, and this isn’t an especially good one of either of us, here’s proof that we were there. Also, if you look closely you can see evidence of the excellent sunburn I was working on that day.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3aKNZx9iBBs/VZ1RJtc-4tI/AAAAAAAAI4U/RARtRnATeXM/s1600-h/20150627_1443204.jpg"><img title="20150627_144320" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_144320" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gOj7rfTuhUE/VZ1RK3XpnaI/AAAAAAAAI4Y/brukHccpTdU/20150627_144320_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>After our photo op, Miss Chef was dying for a good burrito in the Mission District, and my cousin had a favorite dive to take us, called <a href="http://www.esquire.com/food-drink/food/a19748/el-farolito-best-burrito-winner-15120286/" target="_blank">El Farolito</a>. There was a short line, but we food fanatics enjoyed the show while we waited. (This is where the video was supposed to go, but YouTube isn’t cooperating, so you just get a still photo.)</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_FGp1B0OOIM/VZ1RLnssGbI/AAAAAAAAI4k/KN6qWAZZ-h4/s1600-h/20150627_155427%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150627_155427" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_155427" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cQTEzkdFiT8/VZ1RMHltD3I/AAAAAAAAI4s/IZhY89BbDxc/20150627_155427_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>For the rest of the afternoon we walked a bit around the neighborhood and down Valencia Blvd, then eventually drove home to change for dinner and pick up a couple of other diners. Our destination tonight was <a href="http://www.zunicafe.com/" target="_blank">Zuni Café</a>, right on Market Street.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FaHi9gfb3uE/VZ1RNMaBGfI/AAAAAAAAI40/X2tFxmjDCEY/s1600-h/20150627_184630_001-13.jpg"><img title="20150627_184630_001-1" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_184630_001-1" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cOqmDBb6L8g/VZ1RNxtqtjI/AAAAAAAAI48/vYOFfaPY2Kk/20150627_184630_001-1_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="359"></a></p> <p>Now this was the day after the Supreme Court decision on same-sex marriage, and the beginning of San Francisco’s Pride celebration, so along the way we saw lots of rainbow accessories, pink tutus (on both sexes), and the occasional body paint in lieu of actual clothing. All in good fun, if often accompanied by a slurred word here or a stumbling gait there. Anyway, I thought the hostess stand at the restaurant was charming.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hCh_WISLRSM/VZ1ROkHBXKI/AAAAAAAAI5E/-Gvs4U4HuVs/s1600-h/20150627_1846254.jpg"><img title="20150627_184625" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_184625" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dUHCjTybqmQ/VZ1RPgTW6PI/AAAAAAAAI5M/qxghgP-6hRU/20150627_184625_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>As to the food, we had also been admonished to absolutely order the roasted chicken, which is cooked and served atop fresh, schmaltz-soaked bread. One order is supposed to serve two, so four of us got two orders. Which (to skip ahead a bit) fed the family for the next several days. Loooots of leftovers.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pPO0nvb6zFc/VZ1RQq3wldI/AAAAAAAAI5U/JfL6uKzGwOs/s1600-h/20150627_2006144.jpg"><img title="20150627_200614" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_200614" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zAdxAkcl4pI/VZ1RRgVDlxI/AAAAAAAAI5c/zhZWLJpfUNE/20150627_200614_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>And here’s the happy dinner gang: me, Miss Chef, my younger cousin who I’d met for the first time an hour before this photo was taken, my older cousin and his girlfriend. And my ripening sunburn.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9lNjHNYc9YQ/VZ1RSSxxpiI/AAAAAAAAI5k/FNKfTAbo01E/s1600-h/2015-06-28-07.36.313.jpg"><img title="2015-06-28 07.36.31" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2015-06-28 07.36.31" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-M9CSfMZ-tKQ/VZ1RTVIFEuI/AAAAAAAAI5s/_jRYLp6kSDg/2015-06-28-07.36.31_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The remainder of the evening’s entertainment came in the form of the streams of revelers along the sidewalks as we got stuck in traffic. More tutus and body paint, more stumbling gaits, but all in good cheer. I was just glad I wasn’t driving!</p> <p><em>I’m breaking this down into daily segments, so if you want even more, here’s <a href="http://flartus.blogspot.com/2015/07/san-francisco-day-1.html" target="_blank">Day 1</a>.</em></p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-51529649481162643942015-07-05T21:51:00.001-04:002015-07-05T21:51:52.838-04:00San Francisco Day 1<p>For Big Trip 2, we were gone 10 days: 2 days of travel and 8 days of adventures. I took 364 pictures. We ate at…um, a lot of notable restaurants, including Chez Panisse and the French Laundry. Needless to say, this one earned the right to be called a Big Trip.</p> <p>So let the fun begin.</p> <p>Here’s our home away from home, ie my aunt and uncle’s house on the south edge of the city.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-w42JkLWZHC0/VZnew-Y5sRI/AAAAAAAAIxQ/fA3oFbkXsSY/s1600-h/20150626_113125%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_113125" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_113125" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-87km57veTdI/VZnexuS-PnI/AAAAAAAAIxY/FAVgRA37KG8/20150626_113125_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Theirs is the yellow house on the left, at the start of a nominal slope. In the distance to the right is where you might see some of the city itself, but it turns out they live smack against the base of Mt. Davidson, one of the foggier areas of town. The character and weather in this city can change completely from one block to the next.</p> <p>Our first activity of the day was to walk up that mountain, at least part way. We navigated our way on foot through charming if confusing curved and sloped streets lined with cheek-to-jowl blocks of homes. It didn’t take long for the gardener in me to go all agog at the unfamiliar flora along the way.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IMx2RijtkEY/VZneyTQQA1I/AAAAAAAAIxg/2pqAmM73PRQ/s1600-h/20150626_114800%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_114800" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_114800" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Dar1CDdUAj8/VZnezBXOJ5I/AAAAAAAAIxo/nIWG28ECDzI/20150626_114800_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The impression of being in a very different natural world was confirmed as soon as we entered the footpath to the top.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wR5Aj4iwZAM/VZnezyfB6wI/AAAAAAAAIxw/rjHlqT5LAJY/s1600-h/20150626_115300%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_115300" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_115300" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-imdcMhGW-Lo/VZne0VF1GiI/AAAAAAAAIx4/lAcX2bAsmjI/20150626_115300_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>We didn’t go all the way up—there was no point with all the fog—but we did find some interesting scenery all the same.</p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oJYSzezD9_8/VZne1JCVmeI/AAAAAAAAIyA/UoglHzoytXs/s1600-h/20150626_120304%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_120304" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_120304" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5yGUY17yneA/VZne1rFJ7jI/AAAAAAAAIyI/2DNNhV21Zqo/20150626_120304_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Mq7ObDFn18k/VZne2I6MYoI/AAAAAAAAIyQ/iwsiNGLQ8QM/s1600-h/20150626_120722%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_120722" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_120722" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1Bt4NBUMyT0/VZne2tTqP6I/AAAAAAAAIyY/bTtTbzxJL10/20150626_120722_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Great place for a cabin-in-the-woods horror flick, eh?</p> <p>After we wended our way home, my aunt, who is Thai, took us out for some pretty authentic dim sum. The menu and ordering routine would probably have confused us without her guidance, but we ended up with a table full of interesting flavors. Which is exactly what we wanted.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sCME6KNJBHI/VZne3fkcefI/AAAAAAAAIyg/AEkwgHuYr2c/s1600-h/2015-06-26%25252014.00.37%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="2015-06-26 14.00.37" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2015-06-26 14.00.37" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-p1Ws6Hh5P7w/VZne4CdeaVI/AAAAAAAAIyo/bOXcZonEKb4/2015-06-26%25252014.00.37_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZRsRrnB_Pwk/VZne4nzmkWI/AAAAAAAAIyw/dOuiVTz2oNM/s1600-h/20150626_131127%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_131127" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_131127" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dnioS7PvvKo/VZne5RFNlMI/AAAAAAAAIy4/6-nJ6VPaxeQ/20150626_131127_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>After lunch we wanted to go to the Ferry Building, so my aunt dropped us off at the most convenient underground Muni station (Muni covers underground, buses and aboveground trams; Bart is kind of like the RER in Paris, designed for suburban commuting. The famous cable cars are a separate system.) That stop happened to be at Castro, the heart of San Francisco’s gay community. And this happened to be the day after the Supreme Court made its historic decision regarding same-sex marriage. Needless to say, there was a tangible spirit of shared jubilation here.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GMOP7khaeTs/VZne55PEw6I/AAAAAAAAIzA/j_Q82vwew04/s1600-h/20150626_143956%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_143956" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_143956" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_H5dftVl36w/VZne6etkN-I/AAAAAAAAIzI/ykT8IdJ959g/20150626_143956_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-toCa0_oxmhM/VZne7HidGUI/AAAAAAAAIzQ/t8zeVmf1ysk/s1600-h/20150626_144044%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_144044" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_144044" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pGjFMw4yUGI/VZne7pLnM_I/AAAAAAAAIzY/eRT4a-VgGBE/20150626_144044_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6q5KApqStxg/VZne8aFEBmI/AAAAAAAAIzg/wHdmhSvCilI/s1600-h/20150626_144310%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_144310" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_144310" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ib-H3QOQGYc/VZne9MA2KqI/AAAAAAAAIzo/p4v8MbmJB8E/20150626_144310_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We strolled the area for a bit, then hopped the Muni to the terminus downtown and found our way to the Ferry Building, home of the city’s biggest farmers market. This was Friday afternoon, so the real fun wouldn’t be ‘til the next morning, but there are plenty of daily vendors to peruse.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oEnKdLByYPs/VZne9s8zHQI/AAAAAAAAIzw/-cKCEB5rTOk/s1600-h/20150626_152454-1%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_152454-1" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_152454-1" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-e_GHRv_lC94/VZne-DOmSxI/AAAAAAAAIz4/h5L1XzXXYLY/20150626_152454-1_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="304" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-taRO4scT4dw/VZne-o0xxOI/AAAAAAAAI0A/frAfm8obg6g/s1600-h/20150626_152847%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_152847" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_152847" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uohQV0XC2Gk/VZne_A4jNQI/AAAAAAAAI0I/dN4e-vUulk4/20150626_152847_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>What a great slogan—to the point!</p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--8zJcog9ib0/VZne_3hMH3I/AAAAAAAAI0Q/iWg0OiyRQfw/s1600-h/20150626_152718%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_152718" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_152718" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_UrWN9PQS4w/VZnfAe5neiI/AAAAAAAAI0U/oZ3N1NYJXBg/20150626_152718_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef was mesmerized.</p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wpac6kqmtz0/VZnfBJ9IYOI/AAAAAAAAI0g/y6Odwg7LGEs/s1600-h/20150626_153528%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_153528" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_153528" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PtAtKNjh2F4/VZnfB95hV4I/AAAAAAAAI0o/XJGjfYHINg8/20150626_153528_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Of course we bought two.</p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ourTPT8wQLA/VZnfCRGv9UI/AAAAAAAAI0w/lAIsI29Dzvw/s1600-h/20150626_154429%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_154429" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_154429" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LdiHUEUGgyQ/VZnfDPcKakI/AAAAAAAAI04/sS7LL6pZPPM/20150626_154429_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>There were other things to look at besides food, like this sweeping view of the Bay Bridge.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UqBiNPkLyMM/VZnfDucoQYI/AAAAAAAAI1A/8k2gy1cQlP0/s1600-h/20150626_160351%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_160351" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_160351" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iKSWdXRyU04/VZnfEbjIaHI/AAAAAAAAI1I/q9FBKFQkbZ0/20150626_160351_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>We walked a bit along the piers and got a nice view of the city skyline.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3YkCdcjmhOg/VZnfFI8DusI/AAAAAAAAI1Q/ryfq4jDBl_I/s1600-h/20150626_170251%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_170251" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_170251" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wUUMDLtfTQU/VZnfF58k2QI/AAAAAAAAI1U/ASBdFoknmlo/20150626_170251_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Then we cut inland and dipped our toes in Chinatown before picking up the Muni again.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--_u9DQtf5S4/VZnfGY5h5EI/AAAAAAAAI1g/2pvDx0kFWzM/s1600-h/20150626_173647%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_173647" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_173647" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QCXnX10lCVE/VZnfHFIYpeI/AAAAAAAAI1o/--6TQZw6oMo/20150626_173647_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BzVHd7X-R-M/VZnfHrTSgrI/AAAAAAAAI1w/8VEeTJgmBig/s1600-h/20150626_173101%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_173101" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_173101" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-apiW_6t8Xuc/VZnfIcj7kzI/AAAAAAAAI14/dJr-DN2v7Q4/20150626_173101_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>This was one of the few nights we did not have fancy-pants dinner reservations, and my aunt was planning to cook a simple Thai meal for us.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KP-q6QE3wEQ/VZnfJBGaPYI/AAAAAAAAI2A/ntX8puwEux0/s1600-h/20150626_192217%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_192217" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_192217" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Vf4y6e5vgq0/VZnfJgNdKTI/AAAAAAAAI2I/pW0YHI-zuNQ/20150626_192217_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>One sign you might be in the kitchen of a Thai cook:</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SdH2o2mUskA/VZnfKDc5PMI/AAAAAAAAI2Q/4gTeODgn6uc/s1600-h/20150627_081551%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150627_081551" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150627_081551" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VU1aJZG6cfc/VZnfK21GYsI/AAAAAAAAI2Y/LDTJpd-qqe4/20150627_081551_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Most of the family gathered for dinner, including one of my cousins and his girlfriend.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qG8bvIXlRI4/VZnfLhcpKrI/AAAAAAAAI2g/c8oPhaUz2iE/s1600-h/20150626_200127%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_200127" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_200127" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rrlMy4xQxcs/VZnfMciIPhI/AAAAAAAAI2o/l0BFiz0JAEU/20150626_200127_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Spicy green beans with tofu, and garlic prawns and calamari. Look at that beautiful presentation. Simple, huh?</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BxPiKbaZUxk/VZnfNJRgzxI/AAAAAAAAI2s/kxhyHs9TR8Q/s1600-h/20150626_200228%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150626_200228" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150626_200228" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GkJ_qHUORCs/VZnfNrqrmRI/AAAAAAAAI24/qhpd04nzKkg/20150626_200228_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Once again I have clogged a page with an overload of photos. So I guess I’ll do the same as our last Big Trip, and break this down day by day. Besides, it’s about bedtime here now, and I have to be at work in the morning. Oh yeah, back to reality! That’s ok, our air conditioner is on the fritz, so I’ll be happy to be in some cooled air for most of the day. Adventures never cease around here…</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-37982449234782846532015-06-17T16:49:00.001-04:002015-06-17T16:49:27.160-04:00Update 2 of ?: Garden<p><em>It’s been a long while since I wrote a blog post and there’s a lot to catch up on. But rather than get dragged into one long, neverending story, I’m breaking it into several little bits, a la <a href="http://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">John Grey</a>, Earl of Bwythn-y-Llan. Who knows how many I’ll accomplish before the day wraps up?</em></p> <p>The big news this week around these parts is the weather. After weeks of spring deluges, the rain has trickled off, and we’ve had only one good shower in the past month. It was dry enough before that for me to have drained my 40-gallon rain barrel, one 2-gallon watering can at a time. I was relieved to get a refill before Mother Nature turned off the spigot for good.</p> <p>So, with occasional watering, this was my garden last week.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YX6UzAJvgO8/VYHdKDk5lZI/AAAAAAAAIuo/wIma6UL6X9Q/s1600-h/Garden%25252006%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 06 (1)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 06 (1)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1mVhsbk5uHg/VYHdKuvr91I/AAAAAAAAIuw/hgZZKTDQxGc/Garden%25252006%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Not overwhelming, but the right-hand pea trellis had finally turned into the lush wall of vegetation I was looking for, and the pods were starting to fill. Sadly, last year’s pea-eating pest was back at it, and I didn’t know how to dissuade it. The damage was too high for rabbits, so I assumed the lately-arrived squirrel population (our neighborhood is still developing a tree canopy, so we’d been squirrel-less until the past year or so). I sprinkled cayenne powder, tucked onion tops and garlic scapes into the vines, and tied shiny bits of paper and ribbon onto the trellises. The onions seemed to work for a day, but nothing else had any effect.</p> <p>Then Miss Chef happened to catch the thief red….feathered.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BqnBiXKrWGE/VYHdLV561TI/AAAAAAAAIu4/94VPIoKNMXU/s1600-h/cardinal%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="cardinal" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="cardinal" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DL3-lZ6ucgI/VYHdL7SnFdI/AAAAAAAAIvA/m_uwl5Uoq6E/cardinal_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="504" height="433"></a></p> <p>Yes, she saw a cardinal eating my precious peas! Now, I’ve been very conscientious about creating a little bit of habitat here for wildlife: no chemicals for lawn or garden, a little patch of wildflowers I let grow in the backyard, avoiding invasive plants, and of course the birdfeeder and birdbath. I stopped filling the feeder after spring had turned and I deemed it easy enough for them to find natural food sources. But after Miss Chef’s report, I filled both the feeder and the birdbath…however, I’ve not been diligent about it, so it’s hard to tell if it helps.</p> <p>In the meanwhile, this week’s forecast looks like this:</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-v488Jat5TCU/VYHdMdzVIFI/AAAAAAAAIvI/aGjawT0iPVk/s1600-h/Screenshot_2015-06-17-16-20-41%25255B6%25255D.png"><img title="Screenshot_2015-06-17-16-20-41" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Screenshot_2015-06-17-16-20-41" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sDgJcbnPI6o/VYHdMylJoKI/AAAAAAAAIvM/Y-a7TDBg5Vk/Screenshot_2015-06-17-16-20-41_thumb%25255B10%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="347" height="469"></a></p> <p>And according to Mr. Weatherguy on the tv, there’s no relief in sight. It’s only been a few days into the heatwave thus far, and here’s how my garden looked this morning.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yTH9rVII8pI/VYHdN_qy33I/AAAAAAAAIvY/YNhHytMCdqg/s1600-h/Garden%25252006%252520%25252817%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 06 (17)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 06 (17)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-76Qg2d-OtNg/VYHdOrG9sqI/AAAAAAAAIvg/ZfNPJfUKWS4/Garden%25252006%252520%25252817%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The deep shade makes it look darker and lusher, but take a second look and you’ll see signs of stress. The peas and nearest tomato plant are turning yellow from the ground up. For the tomato, that’s a common virus which will eventually kill the plant, but I can still get a little harvest from it. For the peas, that means it’s too hot and too dry. I haven’t been getting up early enough to water as frequently as I’d like, and frankly I’d rather save my dwindling supply for upcoming crops like my beans, peppers and squash.</p> <p>But darn it, those vines keep putting out new sprouts and flowers amid all the yellowing leaves.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IjpnRmVCjbU/VYHdPKwoCzI/AAAAAAAAIvo/h5xWwL2dFg4/s1600-h/Garden%25252006%252520%25252819%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 06 (19)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 06 (19)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PxIKW6Nkyvw/VYHdPnXsygI/AAAAAAAAIvw/1DNtAjMBHD0/Garden%25252006%252520%25252819%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>So I was out there this morning, trying to at least get them through the week. But since checking the 10-day forecast, I think it may be time to stop kidding myself.</p> <p>The garlic and onions have been indicating they’re ready to come out, too, and while my onions have been rather pathetic, I did pull out some handsome heads of garlic.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jg3p3WasYWU/VYHdQcW_3iI/AAAAAAAAIv4/r6-rP6NCYgw/s1600-h/Garden%25252006%252520%25252812%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 06 (12)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 06 (12)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DXHkxSgrVak/VYHdQ8iy4iI/AAAAAAAAIwA/3OLLbN6dBg8/Garden%25252006%252520%25252812%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Dirty, yes, but handsome to my eyes.</p> <p>While those plants are gasping their last, the resilience of my squash plants entertains me. This is what they look like in the heat of the afternoon. You’d think they were toast.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t4miin7PRxA/VYHdRsrK6HI/AAAAAAAAIwI/-5kRvvFvZYQ/s1600-h/Garden%25252006%252520%25252821%252529%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 06 (21)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 06 (21)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-AvRZd4L4nRU/VYHdSNmM9hI/AAAAAAAAIwQ/ydyTIuHzAiU/Garden%25252006%252520%25252821%252529_thumb%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Yet once the shade rolls on in, they look like this within an hour:</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PG95JOgp9yA/VYHdS0nEleI/AAAAAAAAIwY/c0H2g4k0SPA/s1600-h/Garden%25252006%252520%25252816%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 06 (16)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 06 (16)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0KhDjkg4fmbzC4KNsjftElOkcQANObOJm7McOOT6QTMOEPvzXYKzrH4cvsEglGdcgrjKSrJ_6tWPS_zpdKwOA75Zl9YjxSiRNt5CcFyYJ4pVJzONYIf6zt9G-6QTqGgQCOcWSS35QIHC/?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Amazing, eh? And even better, they’re working diligently on growing me some squash.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SMb-ZW0aoNE/VYHdU5kY_5I/AAAAAAAAIwo/6-IpUeCffKE/s1600-h/20150617_154251%25255B1%25255D%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="20150617_154251[1]" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20150617_154251[1]" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cN_WUfQFHlc/VYHdVbA-tQI/AAAAAAAAIww/F5-xmaddB6U/20150617_154251%25255B1%25255D_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Heck, if I can get just one crop through the next couple of weeks, I’ll feel like a successful gardener.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-7342026376609275912015-06-17T14:52:00.001-04:002015-06-17T14:52:00.330-04:00Update 1 of ?: Rosie<p> </p> <p>Sometime this year Rosie turns 11. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QsjUdAycPpg/VYHBvDlKO9I/AAAAAAAAItg/tR8Uty9Vv30/s1600-h/Rosie%25252006%252520%2525283%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Rosie 06 (3)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Rosie 06 (3)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-olsNJJk3hgk/VYHBv64GJ0I/AAAAAAAAIto/xb_kre-2xqM/Rosie%25252006%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>You’d hardly know it, short of looking closely at her eyes, which have developed the typical cloudiness for an older dog. She’s as energetic as ever when she grabs a toy and does her “I want to go outside” dance (which closely resembles her “I’m hungry” and “I want some attention now” dances.) And while she’s developed at least one white whisker and the little patch on her chin nobody ever sees has grown a bit, by all appearances she hasn’t aged a day since she walked in the door almost 9 years ago.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ucE-sIBmm5s/VYHBwXmOExI/AAAAAAAAItw/h9onO5kq-VE/s1600-h/Rosie%25252006%252520%2525284%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Rosie 06 (4)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Rosie 06 (4)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRrMTNAY1BWMUIXtaBX-BAsrZ9JF9ntBtcCXAvsU3TI50_SodoyvkjQa31VY2MrlkDMiMOdMhHHm3srvn1IE-LIQGOkRELykOoFAutO8u65oU6lRJY7DBkvymn2_CSIWnbN56ILlwEPPrU/?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p align="center"><font color="#4f81bd"><strong>So fierce</strong></font></p> <p>Yet one telltale change is marking her time on Earth. Over the past several months I noticed her hearing seemed to be diminishing. Her ignoring of my “c’mere”s seemed a little beyond passive stubbornness, and it was obvious from her startled waking growls that she was no longer able to hear the cat’s plaintive greeting meows. I mentioned this to the vet during her annual checkup in May, and she confirmed there was nothing outwardly wrong with Rosie’s ears, so it was surely age catching up with her. She’s such a sweet, responsive girl it didn’t really matter; she rarely used “I didn’t hear you” as an excuse.</p> <p>But one morning last week at breakfast, Rosie was looking me right in the face when I gave her the “ok” to eat. (I make her sit and wait when I place her bowl on the floor. I told you she was a Good Dog.) After I gave her the command she just continued to smile eagerly at me, awaiting permission. I tried again louder, then a third time, at a shout. It wasn’t until I added a swipe of the hand in the direction of her bowl that she jumped up and dove in.</p> <p>She’d done this before, hesitating as if she weren’t sure I really meant “ok.” But usually that was accompanied by a false start and some tail swishes. Not today. It was as if she’d forgotten to turn the volume up in her world.</p> <p>Over the next few days Miss Chef and I repeatedly tested the dog’s hearing, calling her loudly from right behind. It became apparent from Rosie’s startled reactions whenever we touched her that she had no idea we were anywhere nearby. Seemingly overnight, her hearing had gone from “poor” to “practically nonexistent.” Thank goodness she’s such a calm dog and never reacts aggressively when we frighten her. I’ve been searching for gentle ways to awake her from her naps—waving my hand in front of her nose worked once, and tapping the floor if she’s not on the carpet works too.</p> <p>Though it may seem like “aw, such a shame,” I’ve actually been kind of enjoying this new adjustment. I guess it’s the scientist in me, testing new ways of communicating and interacting with her. Fortunately I had already taught Rosie many hand signals—<em>come</em>, <em>sit</em>, <em>stay, look over there</em> cover most of our daily needs. Oh, and the “Where’s your toy?” shrug. Yes, I taught her that! I’m glad she’s such a quick learner, and had picked them up almost effortlessly along the way.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VwXRgRHeQZw/VYHBxou2d7I/AAAAAAAAIuA/iQR5VGo2_hs/s1600-h/shrug%25255B3%25255D.png"><img title="shrug" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="shrug" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3dRgfGa3xM0/VYHByXkh7jI/AAAAAAAAIuI/mSHBaZuubRQ/shrug_thumb%25255B1%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="504" height="356"></a></p> <p align="center"><strong><font color="#4f81bd">This is not me. Also, crazy eyes are not part of the signal.</font></strong></p> <p>The only thing I wish I’d developed a signal for was “good girl.” Because I can tell she misses the balm of verbal praise. She often comes over just for a little pet-pet, seeming to want that reassurance that she used to get so frequently via tone of voice. I’m trying to teach her a “good girl” sign now, but it doesn’t seem to have clicked yet. That’s ok, pet-pets are a nice substitute, if a little hard to achieve when one’s hands are full.</p> <p>And then there are some other benefits. Like when I want to go from bed to bathroom to bed again without a dancing, huffy escort who thinks any post-sleep movement means it’s time for breakfast. Or when I let her in the backyard, she no longer hears me close the door and turns around with a look of betrayal; she just goes on about her sniffing and peeing business.</p> <p>So, all in all, I’m content that it’s her hearing that’s gone, rather than sight, mobility or general well-being. And aside from missing her “good girls,” she doesn’t seem to care at all. As long as she’s still able to hang out in the front yard and sniff the world wafting by, Rosie’s a happy pup.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6Zd3NXJwYQA/VYHBzGSvPFI/AAAAAAAAIuQ/gWj9kMUjNvs/s1600-h/Rosie%25252006%252520%2525286%252529%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img title="Rosie 06 (6)" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Rosie 06 (6)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j_XugBwT1do/VYHBztCKvUI/AAAAAAAAIuY/xxWDnjFT7xY/Rosie%25252006%252520%2525286%252529_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="329"></a></p> <p> </p> <p><em>In case you were wondering, that second picture is her yawning. Not so fierce, actually.</em></p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-48365978402397966892015-05-25T13:34:00.001-04:002015-05-25T13:53:42.954-04:00Garden Journal: Now we’re growing!<p>Through late April and most of May, I was disappointed in how my garden looked.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-AuWOtIRRK6E/VWNc4r_PlYI/AAAAAAAAIpw/8KiIaIVYeNQ/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%2525284%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (4)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (4)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Kw7ho9THelE/VWNc5bqbdGI/AAAAAAAAIp4/YefQ3fet-zA/Garden%25252005%252520%2525284%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Oh, it was growing, and mostly weedless, but it sure didn’t look lush. My peas in particular weren’t making the progress I wished for.</p> <p>Well, maybe it’s time, or that great downpour we had last week, but finally things are starting to pop out there.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1iN9a_t5Cl4/VWNc6Q595zI/AAAAAAAAIqA/uQ1gcWlVD0A/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%2525289%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (9)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (9)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-X2PDaK7IkA4/VWNc7KeeqYI/AAAAAAAAIqI/YnuP_7QPMFM/Garden%25252005%252520%2525289%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Three weeks’ difference has made me happy. I had one rogue radish pop up, and let it bloom there in the front. I was happy to see tiny little native bees on it last week. I recently read that those overlooked species do more pollinating that all the honeybees who get all the press. So I’ve been looking with pride at the clover in my unmowed lawn and thrilling at the constant swarm of miniature visitors to the parsley flowers growing wildly between our patio pavers.</p> <p>And I doubt that’s the only reason, but surely it helps explain the great luck I’ve had with pollination this year?</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dx4T2J0Cs38/VWNc76ucuaI/AAAAAAAAIqQ/rPfAkC-jM5g/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%25252813%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (13)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (13)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ILlHwqwqwSM/VWNc8bl-eAI/AAAAAAAAIqY/OzN_w3RySiM/Garden%25252005%252520%25252813%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Last year at this time, only one tomato plant had put on two tiny green fruits, but this year all 3 of my plants have bunches of fast-plumping tomatoes hanging on them. I’m only hoping they don’t all come ripe when we’re in San Francisco!</p> <p>The peas, while behind last year’s schedule by about a week, are finally looking plentiful.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6Is_VoqVx40/VWNc9Ip3YMI/AAAAAAAAIqg/qJjp-dlNrbs/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%25252810%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (10)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (10)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TF7X5_L3Vr0/VWNc9vhjxBI/AAAAAAAAIqo/eL-4kb3n9VY/Garden%25252005%252520%25252810%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>And while <em>last year’s</em> beans were already flowering by this point, these guys look pretty happy…besides, they’re a different variety.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LJWwJdF9e0U/VWNc-dLzGnI/AAAAAAAAIqw/dQqeelYFNrc/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%25252819%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (19)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (19)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WQEaxb5jh1s/VWNc-4HrBSI/AAAAAAAAIq4/XHHggd5KNlI/Garden%25252005%252520%25252819%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="324"></a></p> <p>Usually I grow bush beans because I don’t want to be bothered with poles. This year I wanted to try a pseudo-<a href="https://plantfreak.wordpress.com/2012/03/02/the-three-sisters-garden-corn-beans-squash/" target="_blank">three sisters</a> approach, with poles instead of corn (modern varieties take lots of space & water). Sadly, my squash plant didn’t germinate here, so it’s just beans and poles. Oh well.</p> <p>Luckily, my other two squash plants did germinate, finally.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-e8SNzcqwZyA/VWNc_y3ePdI/AAAAAAAAIrA/S1UbbY9c0Sw/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%2525287%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (7)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (7)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yssmLNVwcFc/VWNdAqxfMyI/AAAAAAAAIrI/6Y-1Ngc3BEg/Garden%25252005%252520%2525287%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>They are in our fabulous raised bed built last year—the hoops and covering were supposed to help me get a jump-start on spring gardening this year, but I dithered so much about what I wanted to put in here that it’s now a total summer bed. There’s a lonely onion and a cilantro plant in the back. I took this photo right after Miss Chef harvested about 1/3 of the cilantro, so it’s doing better than it looks from here. In fact, I think it’s planning on bolting (flowering) soon. Fortunately, I’ve got a few other cilantro seedlings scattered around other beds, so we’ll be able to enjoy it a bit longer. The seeds are coriander, which is an easy spice to harvest, and fun to use. I should plant cilantro more often.</p> <p>Part of the reason my garden doesn’t look quite so jungly as last year was my surrender on the broccoli front. I had about seven plants come up from seeds, half a dozen that survived transplanting into the bed, but only 3 that made it through a last, brutal freeze in March (or was it April?) I could have bought plants, but they take up a lot of space, so I thought I’d be reasonable and just grow what I have.</p> <p>And now it’s time for examples of “right plant, right place”…and its opposite.</p> <p>This is my biggest one.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqV0gFvtFNSWkhz98sOZz1OMm4R_axAmVbTTDtOGWHnvD3xngv3yaOXVabwdBOOzN2VIn2QeuVv29VJZtqf6XR3OvqeJL22xpnYFmy2wlzujQwG7YrnHpdsx8PBAy6n7I_VQk-tsc_-p9P/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%25252817%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (17)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (17)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EIqhzV9SSKI/VWNdB0inl2I/AAAAAAAAIrY/djv92EpR_Bk/Garden%25252005%252520%25252817%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Handsome fella, isn’t he? Now here’s the one on the opposite corner:</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUNjtgnlCusWzUxqZYoCcmR7ffeLRe10Tn2L_xyItC0sblWollIsYP8rT6Ivx8c6zCSfKQ40CGyjaPKI29WTzoIrbvUtp0iJV8ylDH_vZIcm_pM56037u1l3i9NkYJrS_UuAKCvroT-WH/s1600-h/Garden%25252005%252520%25252814%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 05 (14)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 05 (14)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-stCd4baOIjQ/VWNdDIxMiTI/AAAAAAAAIro/VXAPFoyhv8s/Garden%25252005%252520%25252814%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>I’m not sure what the difference is here, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the garlic, either the shading or anti-companion status. Lots of things don’t like to grow near garlic. Also notice it’s more bug-eaten than the other, which I think is more effect than cause here. Healthy plants can resist pests and disease better, which is one of the benefits of using natural methods like companion planting, feeding the soil through compost, and mulching for water retention. Part of the end result is less need for pesticides.</p> <p>That’s enough Gardening 101. There are more interesting things to look at. Like flowers!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Xv3hJbYlnaA/VWNdEKUHb8I/AAAAAAAAIrw/PR8momtzAEc/s1600-h/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525282%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Flowers 05 (2)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Flowers 05 (2)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SuryF1RUl58/VWNdEop-sPI/AAAAAAAAIr4/mI-3TWSGHW8/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Well, this looked more impressive a few days ago, when there were fewer dead ones and more new ones. But I’ve got a nice self-propogating mix of galliardia, coreopsis and brown-eyed susans established in my front bed now. I should dead-head the spent blooms to encourage more flowering, but it’s hot out here in the afternoons!</p> <p>At the bottom of the driveway, Miss Chef’s asiatic lilies are giving their annual show right now, too.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dtbxdmXLYjVArbZa9LkdFARI8rZlUIKs6qOtZg4JSNov57u2dhv5zR-sSP7jZbCD2umNl86md43YXew32qMNDN1jA5we7pqvR8kMNVSLQF4ypK6QCEIvtVfTYp9mkaLuHCiTf4jMlGJq/s1600-h/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525283%252529%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img title="Flowers 05 (3)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Flowers 05 (3)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tyKHM4Nvn00/VWNdGZPRBlI/AAAAAAAAIsI/v7dKiaZz51c/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a> </p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Q8cEbVjOysI/VWNdHEKr2xI/AAAAAAAAIsQ/DzyIHbRYP8Q/s1600-h/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525285%252529%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img title="Flowers 05 (5)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Flowers 05 (5)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xR9z_TEQwCA/VWNdHn7VE7I/AAAAAAAAIsY/exN_5WRhtY0/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>And walking back to the house, I noticed one of our Mystery Trees has started bearing fruit. Wish I knew what it was!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i9i_pvGwBW4/VWNdIEdfcNI/AAAAAAAAIsg/_gSG7K-QJAQ/s1600-h/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525287%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Flowers 05 (7)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Flowers 05 (7)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DFoQfVuMGhQ/VWNdIleCjfI/AAAAAAAAIso/8_bYL5F2J_4/Flowers%25252005%252520%2525287%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Also, this oddball popped up next to our neglected herb bed.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZWO8U6sKJ2I/VWNdJYSQkrI/AAAAAAAAIsw/C6Gh2Py_Zi0/s1600-h/McKenna%25252005%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="McKenna 05" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="McKenna 05" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-w3P6GvfyKjY/VWNdKIgGZfI/AAAAAAAAIs4/8JOo7bEXQug/McKenna%25252005_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I think I’ll keep this one.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6BJDUY24dzI/VWNdKyqNmWI/AAAAAAAAItA/8HD6rglamEw/s1600-h/McKenna%25252005%252520%25252813%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="McKenna 05 (13)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="McKenna 05 (13)" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qaC802UWBVo/VWNdLUPLxXI/AAAAAAAAItI/W48vGDrKKu0/McKenna%25252005%252520%25252813%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-78083983654370955362015-05-09T19:58:00.001-04:002015-05-09T19:58:53.613-04:00First tomato!<p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--HnPtxUO-fg/VU6fIkIBZNI/AAAAAAAAIn8/6ZTjdN6nDMQ/s1600-h/IMG_20150509_185816_313%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150509_185816_313" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150509_185816_313" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZJ6zs7Rt3Ss/VU6fJeX4xmI/AAAAAAAAIoE/xePefSLlFg8/IMG_20150509_185816_313_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It’s tiny. It’s green. Apparently, it’s a little fuzzy…but it’s the first of the season!</p> <p>Also, some of the seeds I had decided would never come up, came up. One day bare soil, the next…beans!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3JKG7SxfruM/VU6fKDUiF8I/AAAAAAAAIoM/ei-rwikZIbM/s1600-h/IMG_20150509_193200_036%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150509_193200_036" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150509_193200_036" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PVLMSn1o8OA/VU6fKxCS20I/AAAAAAAAIoU/MC9ixqw5taQ/IMG_20150509_193200_036_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Dunno what happened to those leaves, but I planted two at each stake, so we’re gonna play survival of the fittest. Gardening can be brutal, didn’t you know? </p> <p>Wow, this picture came out fuzzy. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1mdBzoyoiao/VU6fLkf9-1I/AAAAAAAAIoc/UtyrYebl8bk/s1600-h/IMG_20150509_193250_020%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150509_193250_020" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150509_193250_020" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-c0JgluVS2j8/VU6fMYF42YI/AAAAAAAAIok/T8d9vzsO67Y/IMG_20150509_193250_020_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The garden seems less green than usual this year. Still, the peas are finally getting the idea and climbing the trellises, though I had to help a few of them out. And the tomatoes have grown enough that I needed to loop some string around the stakes (thus the discovery of their firstborn). It’s been pretty warm here, getting into the low 80s (27-ish C), and I’d love some rain. Sadly, none is forecast anytime soon and I’m getting nervous this may turn into another drought summer. I really prefer when Mother Nature takes care of watering for me.</p> <p>In other news, my favoritest pastry chef in Charlotte recently opened a brick-and-mortar location, and I stopped in today to check it out. Here’s a little something to make you hungry.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2QJuyC47Wck/VU6fM5j1YYI/AAAAAAAAIos/iiJBRj6nyEA/s1600-h/IMG_20150509_141335_078%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150509_141335_078" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150509_141335_078" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qxEBJe0cQFA/VU6fNvJOTWI/AAAAAAAAIo0/qe-VjbAYS1A/IMG_20150509_141335_078_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eP3vnTo3twI/VU6fOfEkeaI/AAAAAAAAIo8/ZjG7bc2VzzY/s1600-h/IMG_20150509_141358_973b%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150509_141358_973b" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150509_141358_973b" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8WqsKjZJPzk/VU6fOwSVqZI/AAAAAAAAIpE/tPJXhnb2JQg/IMG_20150509_141358_973b_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="416"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>The chef is French—oh so French—and makes the best <em>pain au chocolat</em> I’ve had stateside. Time to work my network and get this man some press!</p> <p>That’s about all the excitement I’ve fit in this week, between delivering bread and scooping up spices. That’s ok, even my quiet weeks keep me occupied. It’s good to be busy again!</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-73522360026389350222015-05-02T21:59:00.001-04:002015-05-02T21:59:32.634-04:00Food, flowers and Big Trip 2!<p>I was chatting the other day with my “boss” about my various paying gigs (she’s been a sort of acquaintance/friend for years, so it doesn’t feel like a typical boss-employee relationship), when she concluded, “It sounds to me like you’ve got four jobs.”</p> <p>I try not to think of it that way. But I have been pretty busy.</p> <p>On April 19th, my writing gigs got me a free pass as a media judge for one of the Competition Dining events being held in Charlotte. (<a href="http://clture.org/seven-to-taste-local-food-favorites-bring-their-talents-to-competition-dining/" target="_blank">Here’s one of the stories</a> I wrote about it; in brief it’s a single-elimination bracket pitting a series of local chefs in secret ingredient matchups; the diners get to vote on each course without knowing which chef cooked what.) A couple weeks after I got my tickets, Miss Chef was invited to be a Pro judge for the same night—so we got to go together! And one of the organizers knew us, so we were seated together, even though we went via different organizations and had different contacts at the event. Cool, huh?</p> <p>There were six courses, but I won’t include all my photos. Here’s one of the apps:</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dYM4XOR6_J4/VUWA39xByaI/AAAAAAAAIl8/l3UcstWCVyc/s1600-h/IMG_20150419_191853_426%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150419_191853_426" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150419_191853_426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUT5xlvRE-xCsHaIYAzE2tZfa-FQ3qbetlqA-XpQhZ5qWCrJH2lbEe0U2XBUnVHLgyP30NTyYf1i61CWUOkckYSWAV89GvGIeDZmf_4tXz4iSN9aAIoDYzO-OVaEF4uUS0e6Hv0YXXQPj0/?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>It’s a tortellini made with purple sweet potato, wrapped around rock shrimp and accompanied by a bit of lobster tail. Poor me, right?</p> <p>Actually, it was a challenge to keep up the flow of tweets, Instagram photos and Facebook updates while still tasting and entering my scores for each course. I normally wouldn’t blast out every single course of a dinner like this, but I figured I was there as a media person, so I was going to earn my dinner.</p> <p>Here’s one of the desserts:</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Du-wkJVrKas/VUWA5OUgrVI/AAAAAAAAImM/T6_Ap8S8GTQ/s1600-h/IMG_20150419_204022_426%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150419_204022_426" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150419_204022_426" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FwdD6BYjeU4/VUWA5jbbyrI/AAAAAAAAImU/FLsLqX0qQxY/IMG_20150419_204022_426_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It’s an empanada, a cheesecake bite and toasted marshmallow, all made with different kinds of sweet potatoes. Oh, in case you hadn’t figured it out, the secret ingredient was five types of sweet potatoes, from five local farms. Both these dishes were by the winning chef, who defeated one of our good friends. I hated to see Chef Coleman go down, but it was a just victory, as he had some execution issues on a couple of his dishes. Besides, the winner was from last year’s state champion team, so it wasn’t exactly an easy battle.</p> <p>As April wound down, I made a point of backing off on pitching stories, as I’d piled up too many deadlines before starting my two regular jobs and was about to have a nervous breakdown. So while I do still have some busy, busy days, I’ve finally started to have some free blocks of time. Of course, what else was I going to do with that during the lovely days of spring, but tend to my garden?</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LkuuNmF4hUs/VUWA6WREwbI/AAAAAAAAImc/uyqrXrLI-5w/s1600-h/IMG_20150429_103852_163%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150429_103852_163" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150429_103852_163" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ez0JV6NL58k/VUWA7JNWU3I/AAAAAAAAImk/bfubcBYIc0w/IMG_20150429_103852_163_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Although some of my herbs didn’t do well this winter, the spring garden is finally gaining way, and I’ve just put in my summer plants. You can see the squash and cucumber seed packets in front! On the left of the pathway, inside the stately row of tall garlic plants, the tomatoes have taken up residence. On the right side, you can see the peas finally making a break for the trellis, and the faintest of green smudges that are my tiny carrots and onions.</p> <p>See?</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UEbm3tBNx8c/VUWA8GzzurI/AAAAAAAAIms/kOUtrIOzoAI/s1600-h/IMG_20150429_104756_891%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150429_104756_891" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150429_104756_891" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b4QDHc9GLCY/VUWA8-WWiaI/AAAAAAAAIm0/qY9sa9G7ygk/IMG_20150429_104756_891_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I didn’t do a great job of reviewing my companion planting information from last year’s workshop, but I do remember that onions chase away lots of pests, and they don’t need much room. So I’m happy to grow as many as I can get!</p> <p>Here’s a view from the other end.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9HGIfGnI3SM/VUWA9g5LSgI/AAAAAAAAIm8/ncYLzcg_5iA/s1600-h/IMG_20150429_104734_298%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150429_104734_298" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150429_104734_298" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-92jKc7jGxBg/VUWA-EO3veI/AAAAAAAAInE/_x-uwN3vzI8/IMG_20150429_104734_298_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>On the left are three tall stakes I’m using in a partial adaptation of the three sisters planting—no corn, but there are bean seeds at the bottom of each stake, and a squash seed in the center. Every year is an experiment in my garden. Now, I could also point out the two little bell pepper plants on the right side, but I doubt you can really see them, so you’ll just have to believe me. That thing you might want to think is a pepper plant is one of my three remaining broccoli plants. I don’t hold out much hope for a good harvest, as they’re still really small for this late in the spring. Still, I grew them from seed, so they’re gonna get a chance to prove themselves.</p> <p>This past week I actually had an entire day off, with no writing deadlines, so I even had time to play with nonedible plants. These are some of the dozen or so marigold volunteers that came up in the garden. I potted some up to give away, because I couldn’t stand to toss them all in the compost pile.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu97yYNq3snB8LoprTeWjCULSIuX40D5EK0Zyflz51helrYoLR8aBJsU6JjgJpxEf8YgaRWBoj7CRh5leh4NSStdz2v6cfdfLixdec_4PpBbWSgz0z6qOIyMwrclLH8qVDrUeClUOj6gW-/s1600-h/IMG_20150429_103903_582%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150429_103903_582" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150429_103903_582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjm1-cnCqH6fEhLgZEHVjyoHv7oJSct17dlJT-1sjNiu-WvLt7cIOTjo1xEOPYecdNwsH1K0aLLsU61AuuD5oCFaGL_H1e3ZQ8jAqDYLrJ55hw00CSOH-lF82DDvKgH8WmrJdDE_O0ADWP/?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>A couple of Facebook friends queried whether I was sure they weren’t ragweed! After researching images, I can see why they’d be worried, but I’ve never had ragweed on my property, while I have had lots of prolific marigolds. I ended up planting one in a front bed, and look forward to teasingly posting photos of my “ragweed” flowers later this summer.</p> <p>I also treated myself to some begonias and a decorative sweet potato vine for my big pot on the front stoop.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_hdStEa5QUY/VUWBAMvKArI/AAAAAAAAInc/bspIudRrE-w/s1600-h/IMG_20150430_141249_302%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150430_141249_302" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150430_141249_302" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ii7SnwwFBnU/VUWBApnWzkI/AAAAAAAAInk/YGw9LrKitw0/IMG_20150430_141249_302_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>I love the white begonia flowers with the darker bronze leaves, but they can be really hard to find. I hit up a local nursery and got mostly white flowers. Close enough.</p> <p>So, what’s this about Big Trip 2? If you were along for the ride four years ago, you’ll certainly remember our <a href="http://flartus.blogspot.com/search/label/Big%20Trip" target="_blank">Big Trip</a> to London and Paris. This one’s not quite that big, but this summer we’re finally heading off for another long flight—this time to San Francisco!</p> <p>I’ve got family out there, including a 20-something cousin I’ve never met(!), and a Thai aunt who is all about some serious home cooking. Once again we are totally overplanning, but this time it’s Miss Chef scheduling everything. She’s already made two big reservations for us: at <a href="http://coirestaurant.com/" target="_blank">Coi</a>, a hot new restaurant all about local food, and (drumroll) at the <a href="http://www.thomaskeller.com/tfl" target="_blank">French Laundry</a>, arguably the most influential restaurant in America in the past 20 years. It’s incredibly difficult to get reservations, and I never thought I’d get the chance to eat there. But Miss Chef was determined, and after an hour spent dialing and redialing and sitting on hold, she finally got us seats--at 9:15 pm. Better late than never, right?</p> <p>I’d probably better stop eating tomorrow.</p> <p>Anyway, we’re also hoping to do a day trip to Napa valley, and another to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, another bucket list item for both of us. I’m sure I’ll need another vacation to recover from this one, but life’s all about making memories, in my book.</p> <p>Right now, though, I’ve got to make some clothes clean. So much for my glamorous lifestyle.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-19654341551622082152015-04-08T16:17:00.001-04:002015-04-08T20:34:13.024-04:00I wasn’t hibernating<p>In the past, I’ve put up posts around this time of year sort of apologizing for a recent lack of activity here on the blog. This year I’ve had a longer absence than usual, but for once it wasn’t from a lack of energy. No, rather than hibernating, I’d say I’ve been pupating.</p> <p>It doesn’t sound very attractive, but I’m imagining a butterfly’s chrysalis. Wrapped up out of sight, the intriguing caterpillar within seems to be sleeping, but actually all kinds of interesting changes are happening inside. While I’ve been off this page, my three-dimensional life has been, well…interesting.</p> <p>What has been going on since my last post in January? I have to turn to my photos to recall…thus the risk of letting my blog go unattended.</p> <p>In February we had one of the area’s infamous ice storms. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-YDOUXUnO67E/VSVP70htQVI/AAAAAAAAIjQ/rCgI1YryV-4/s1600-h/Storm%25252002%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Storm 02 (2)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Storm 02 (2)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-x4TeuPvi5vE/VSVQB5CCXEI/AAAAAAAAIjY/4E-fIct8GQc/Storm%25252002%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Not having a regular job to head to, it didn’t inconvenience me much. In fact, since Miss Chef’s classes were cancelled for a day or two, we had a lovely little mini-vacation together. Although, to be honest, Miss Chef was itching for some alone time. Having an under-employed family member is hard on everyone.</p> <p>I say underemployed instead of unemployed, because I’m carrying on with my freelance writing gig. February also saw me visiting a farm I know well, for a lengthy interview. My two-week trial as a delivery girl for Tega Hills’ lettuces turned into an <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/examining-the-to-in-farm-to-fork-via-the-microgreen/Content?oid=3598648" target="_blank">article</a> about the behind-the-scenes action that gets local food from farm to table.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-tOW2xXGpuQQ/VSVQCX7h7FI/AAAAAAAAIjg/qM4mxRPNeBs/s1600-h/Tega%252520Hills%25252002%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Tega Hills 02 (1)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Tega Hills 02 (1)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3PAR8YnzjKk/VSVQC47LG2I/AAAAAAAAIjk/dShlljTNV30/Tega%252520Hills%25252002%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJ7I29x0UZxMrsWduFHQI_TvH-p7skgIa5zR2RFZ5tffwbbHa7MkvtEDf5sqzptQfLcS0IKaYI9BH9BgOYXQ6hy8Bg2irsLnKqFWIrpEgZ2z9KncWVMOIVmsDfOMe1MMunK92NhxPqRNB/?imgmax=800"><img title="Tega Hills 02 (9)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Tega Hills 02 (9)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-uPpM_3CcPkE/VSVRUUF_mmI/AAAAAAAAIj8/GwpeXiWWpPg/Tega%252520Hills%25252002%252520%2525289%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I’ve had several other stories going out recently: a personal favorite about a <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/shopping-with-chef-luca-annunziata/Content?oid=3585902" target="_blank">chef</a> who hits three local farmers markets every Saturday morning, promotional pieces about a <a href="http://clture.org/discover-wealth-flavor-heritage-food-drink/" target="_blank">couple</a> of chef-owned <a href="http://clture.org/global-flavors-find-home-davidsons-kindred-restaurant/" target="_blank">restaurants</a>, a <a href="http://piedmontculinaryguild.com/meet-pcg-member-lee-menius-the-inevitable-farmer/" target="_blank">farmer profile</a>, and some <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/charlotte-chefs-go-head-to-head-in-competition/Content?oid=3594700" target="_blank">coverage</a> of a <a href="http://clture.org/seven-to-taste-local-food-favorites-bring-their-talents-to-competition-dining/" target="_blank">dining event</a> that will become relevant a couple paragraphs down.</p> <p>While writing kept me from sinking permanently into a pile of fragrant pajamas and potato chip crumbs, March was the big climax of my pupation, when everything seemed to coalesce at once. A former colleague from my old banking job recommended me for a temp-to-perm position through a staffing agency, doing the exact kind of work I’d been doing before. For 9 years. While everyone in my life told me I needed to do something more meaningful with my talents. Still, my savings were dwindling, and the prospect of a good, regular paycheck floated in my imagination like a desert island in a sea of impending bills. So I grabbed on—did two interviews in one day, got the job and signed on the dotted line.</p> <p>At the same time, I was invited to a press event for the beginning of an annual chef competition here in Charlotte. This was a remarkable, eye-opening experience for me. First, I was invited—I didn’t have to hunt this story down, it came to me! Second, I’d never been to an official press anything, so it was interesting to see how these things roll. It was a little surreal seeing some chefs I consider good friends put on their PR faces for the cameras.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-EtfYJthdSts/VSVRprhs4rI/AAAAAAAAIkE/1JNx1TFp1EI/IMG_20150305_120248_555%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800"><img title="IMG_20150305_120248_555" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150305_120248_555" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-WmTAzLoUUio/VSVS1FAJpdI/AAAAAAAAIkQ/72bNC2HiKkU/IMG_20150305_120248_555_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Third, people knew me. One of the other well-known food writers in town—who I wasn’t sure even knew who I was—greeted me as a colleague and complimented my writing. Two or three chefs I knew via Facebook or reputation approached ME just to say hello and shake hands. It certainly gave my spirits a lift, and I drove home giggling, “I’m <em>famous</em>! People know me!”</p> <p>Don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head.</p> <p>Still, this event highlighted for me how important my mini writing career has become to me, and that I’m actually starting to play a role in Charlotte’s local food scene. It was going to be tough arranging interviews and menu tastings around an 8 to 5 job, but I was determined to keep a toe in, and keep that creative bug alive.</p> <p>Then things got interesting. A position I’d been hearing about at a local farmers market was finally posted for applications. The local spice shop where I’d inquired in December about part-time work suddenly had an opening. It was temporary, maybe 6 months, but it created a possibility I hadn’t had before. I’d been very occasionally delivering bread for a baker I’d done my first print story on almost a year ago. If I could get him to promise me a steady number of hours, maybe I could pay the bills with two part time jobs, or hold on to see if the market manager job came calling, and still keep a flexible schedule for writing.</p> <p>I’ll spare you the drama—and it was a ridiculously dramatic week—and tell you that’s just what I did. I opted for 13 hours a week doing deliveries, 16 to 20 hours at the spice shop, with random interviews and deadlines in between. All paid well under the hourly rate I’d have gotten sitting on my ass in front of a computer. (The farmers market job is still up in the air for now.) For the third time in my life, I made a decision based on my heart rather than my head. The other two had made me happy, so I was hopeful this would too.</p> <p>Then we Gathered.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-odOgOD4Jr48/VSVTATLBo7I/AAAAAAAAIkY/S7B_aYgqN0E/s1600-h/Guests%252520%2525283%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Guests (3)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Guests (3)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-417tdHPwrVk/VSVTBCiuE3I/AAAAAAAAIkg/EDUbsQEbVDw/Guests%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Yes, it was time for our next quarterly underground dinner, and I was fully in charge of “Front of House” again. Miss Chef was concerned with some execution problems we’d all had at the previous dinner, so she limited this one’s ticket sales to 16 guests. That made things easier for me, plus she had a former student come along to help out wherever we needed her.</p> <p>The dinner went very smoothly, and I was pretty happy with my side of service. The tables were set before our first guests arrived (a big change from our fall event), and I was more or less ready to handle any hiccups along the way. I even had time to cut some daffodils and greenery from our front bed to make the tables elegantly festive. Or festively elegant.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-WHSSpHsUiuc/VSVTB3-CuEI/AAAAAAAAIko/TrejbZ8OgXw/Flowers%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800"><img title="Flowers" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Flowers" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-8i7brZ-AANg/VSVTSIMD5eI/AAAAAAAAIkw/xPTxhLWFQ_4/Flowers_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>I don’t want to fill this post with all the food pictures from the evening, but I have to share the inspired dessert table that Miss Chef and Chef Lynn came up with. The venue has a huge work table in the middle of the room, so they covered it and created edible art with the flavor profile of chocolate, orange and ginger.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-m_w9dDPqaFI/VSVTSjKZ5bI/AAAAAAAAIk4/U1ZbZu_CD9w/s1600-h/6%252520food%252520art%252520%2525285%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="6 food art (5)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="6 food art (5)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-DMOp40mHnyk/VSVTeCWSxhI/AAAAAAAAIlA/ElwPzObNk3k/6%252520food%252520art%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>There were smears of chocolate, dustings of cocoa, dribbles of caramel, oozings of toasted marshmallow, pillows of nougat, pillars of gingerbread, and smashings of orange cremeux. We handed our guests dessert spoons and glasses of port, and watched as an otherwise genteel dinner turned into a party full of laughter and lingering conversation.</p> <p>I’d call that a success.</p> <p>Then I took advantage of my last week of unscheduled freedom and bugged out for a visit my parents on Jekyll Island. I only had 3 days or so there, but it’s always good to check in. Besides, they needed some dog time, and Rosie can always use some beach time.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-e7rR92VfLf4/VSVTploOoAI/AAAAAAAAIlI/AabJTpzaAio/IMG_20150317_122955_134-1%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800"><img title="IMG_20150317_122955_134-1" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150317_122955_134-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-pTF-_MLFOzg/VSVU1cv7eUI/AAAAAAAAIlU/XHnTL-RWqbo/IMG_20150317_122955_134-1_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="366"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>I worked remotely a bit too, pitching stories, finalizing edits and managing the donation station I run at a farmers market (another little side job that nets me about $50 a month). But once I came home, I hit the ground running and haven’t stopped since. I’m adapting to having a schedule again, after nearly a year of controlling my own time. I’m getting used to standing for eight hours at a stretch, learning new roads around the outskirts of Charlotte, memorizing 170 spice blends (and where the over 400 pure spices are arranged on the shelves and in the storage room), and trying to figure out how many half-days I need to write a story.</p> <p>Somewhere in there, I got the spring garden started.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-O2ed8Qfivvc/VSVVA39Wv0I/AAAAAAAAIlc/jEn7227fw9c/s1600-h/IMG_20150408_111238_407%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150408_111238_407" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150408_111238_407" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-eEf4-wy5kO0/VSVVBeKNDNI/AAAAAAAAIlk/3cOVWewXvtI/IMG_20150408_111238_407_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It’s a bit sparse looking, but you can just see my peas coming up under the trellis. There are also about 50 onion bulbs scattered around (not to mention the bajillion marigold volunteers and hundreds of ‘mater volunteers sprouting too). The greenish clumps in the pots are my herbs that wintered over, and the fringe of green around the edges is my beloved garlic crop I planted in the fall. You can see one of my broccoli plants on the bottom left corner, too. I’m hoping I have enough space for tomatoes, beans, peppers and squash when it comes time for the summer garden to go in, which will be soon.</p> <p>Between digging in plants, lifting crates of bread and standing for hours at a time, my feet hurt, my back is sore and the rest of my muscles are stiff. I spend my days trying not to forget emails, phone calls, meetings and deadlines I mustn’t miss. Mornings usually find me waking early and lying in bed worrying about how to craft a lede or whether the Piri-Piri spice is in Exotics or Curry.</p> <p>And I couldn’t be happier. I was really worried about whether I’d regret the stability of that desk job—and I still don’t know if I’ll meet May’s mortgage payment—but I’m thrilled to be working with like-minded people again. I may be earning a pittance, but my employers respect me and I finally feel like my professional life matches my personal life. I guess I feel whole again.</p> <p>And now this newly-emerged butterfly has to flit off to another interview. Who knows when I’ll be back here? I hope it will be soon, if for no other reason than to keep track of the garden’s progress for my own future reference. I’ve got to have some consistency in my life, after all.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-63558841480288368862015-01-24T19:50:00.001-05:002015-01-24T19:50:01.566-05:00January Garden<p>I’m not so sure how I feel about this year-round gardening thing. Sure, it’s great to pull some fresh veggies out of your backyard in the middle of winter, but I kind of miss the winter break. Not that I’ve been working too hard out there!</p> <p>So, to recap, for the first time I tried a fall “garden.” In August I planted broccoli, a few brussels sprouts seedlings, and tried to start some onions from seed. In theory, the brassicas enjoy the cooling weather of fall, giving harvests between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The onions sprout and, like the garlic, winter over for a summertime harvest.</p> <p>As you’ve probably guessed, it didn’t work that way.</p> <p>The brussels sprouts hunkered down and did nothing. One of them disappeared without a trace by September. Three attempts at seeding onions resulted in a half-dozen feeble seedlings which all got buried under the great Poop Drop in November (they were too small to work around). The broccoli did slightly better, but they were not about to adhere to my mental time schedule.</p> <p>It wasn’t until the beginning of November that the broccoli started acting like broccoli.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-yTHcHAtFjgk/VMQ9kg-862I/AAAAAAAAIgo/GNKL_6mO3i0/s1600-h/Garden%25252011%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Garden 11" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Garden 11" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-iLUtShtyUrc/VMQ9lewCzBI/AAAAAAAAIgw/FpN84hNZ4ns/Garden%25252011_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Barely. I have been deeply grateful that I have real row cover material this year (thanks Mom & Dad), so I was able to leave it over the plants without worrying about them overheating, or being blocked from sunlight and rainfall. When we had a week or so of nights above freezing, I could easily enough uncover them for a little sunbathing.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Daem9DFGsck/VMQ9mA3hjFI/AAAAAAAAIg4/OJa3yCfeNJ8/s1600-h/IMG_20150107_161619_465%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150107_161619_465" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150107_161619_465" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-0GEG3TOmoJY/VMQ9miJrG6I/AAAAAAAAIhA/4scJtjBXUgA/IMG_20150107_161619_465_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The flower pot is to protect the cover from the pointy-ish end of the support stick. I took this picture the first week of January, so you can see it took nearly two months for this crop to get anywhere near harvest size. Or five months from planting, which was probably another month or two after seeding.</p> <p>These are some well-aged broccoli.</p> <p>There was a little bonus under there, too. Over summer I let some of my springtime lettuce go to seed, and these guys came up close enough to the broccoli to include them under the cover. So I had a little fresh January greenery on my sandwiches for a week or so.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-a6ADGV8uGww/VMQ9nbMcgdI/AAAAAAAAIhI/siQvmcgMnxs/s1600-h/IMG_20150107_162136_408%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150107_162136_408" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150107_162136_408" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-UIxWd_MNSfs/VMQ9n2Hs8rI/AAAAAAAAIhQ/o6C5J_xIyBI/IMG_20150107_162136_408_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Another week after these photos we were hit by a serious deep freeze, with temperatures in the single digits and wind chills around zero. (Yes, it does get cold in North Carolina, just not for long.) So I harvested everything I could…four decent-sized heads.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-e5INwo4aqKw/VMQ9oZRwgaI/AAAAAAAAIhY/bg3O7XAZyHQ/s1600-h/IMG_20150107_171515%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150107_171515" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150107_171515" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-jDsfaOKFx6k/VMQ9pHAYgLI/AAAAAAAAIhg/0At_P8PIWp0/IMG_20150107_171515_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p>They’re smaller than the ones the farmers grow, but they are beautifully compact with a lovely dark color. I assume that means more vitamins.</p> <p>I immediately blanched and froze them, filling a quart bag and a little bit more. I was surprised to find this hitchhiker during the process.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-KKCP7AwCcbQ/VMQ9rQRpBUI/AAAAAAAAIho/S84ss_PVWBQ/s1600-h/IMG_20150107_171858%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150107_171858" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150107_171858" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-x5eSGk07aWg/VMQ9r49YtwI/AAAAAAAAIhw/mk8V_SZyz9s/IMG_20150107_171858_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p>I then checked all the other heads and didn’t find a single other worm! That’s amazing, and a big benefit to “fall” gardening.</p> <p>I wasn’t sure if broccoli could survive a deep freeze under cover (I actually have two layers over most of it), so as an experiment I left behind the smallest main head, along with the decapitated plants. If they do survive, I should get a fair number of secondary heads, bumping up my harvest a bit. At the moment, the results are surprisingly indefinite. Some of the plants look completely dead, others have some dead leaves and some healthy ones, and most of the small heads are looking ok for now. I think the one main head I left is a loss. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about “fall” gardening, it’s that things happen at a much slower pace than in spring and summer, so I’ll let this experiment play to its end.</p> <p>A week after my pre-freeze harvest, it was time to do this.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Fu93_gSmFwE/VMQ9sTX9HII/AAAAAAAAIh4/OkLJUzDkvIQ/s1600-h/IMG_20150118_111056%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150118_111056" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150118_111056" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-KSk2q7yBhgE/VMQ9szhoq2I/AAAAAAAAIiA/spn95g0FcJc/IMG_20150118_111056_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p>Yup, I just started seeds for spring! And while the old generation gives its last gasp outside, the next one is just getting started inside.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-UY6Us89G3XY/VMQ9tVPlBiI/AAAAAAAAIiI/agJ4wP0iI3I/s1600-h/IMG_20150121_131120%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150121_131120" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150121_131120" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Z6fIwNugsJ4/VMQ9t80KGaI/AAAAAAAAIiQ/1kh54UsJyfk/IMG_20150121_131120_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p>To quote my favorite author, “So it goes.”</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-4644912074364357472015-01-16T13:36:00.001-05:002015-01-16T13:36:07.826-05:00How did that happen?<p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-K3dB4y-CjG0/VLlaE5hCI5I/AAAAAAAAIfc/ENp0PyOHEBY/s1600-h/IMG_20150116_124546_851%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20150116_124546_851" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20150116_124546_851" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-XkeILMxf5SU/VLlaFig59BI/AAAAAAAAIfk/5Z-e84-3fKI/IMG_20150116_124546_851_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Last week I was joking with a friend about how misleading my typical grocery store cartload looks. “There’s absolutely no produce,” I said, “but it’s because we buy all our vegetables at the farmers market.”</p> <p>It wasn’t until today, as I pondered my most recent grocery list, that I realized how little we really buy there anymore. Every week or two I have to pick up dog food, milk and orange juice. More often than not I add some deli meat and cheese slices. And the rest is pure Guilty Secret food: Coke, potato chips, bologna.</p> <p>But that’s about it. If you get rid of the junk, all we <em>need</em> from the grocery store is milk, orange juice, dog food and sliced things to put between bread. Everything else we have found ways to source locally <em>and</em> affordably.</p> <p>This seems incredible to me, because it happened without my noticing. I became aware years ago that during the summer I would generally wheel my cart right past the produce section without slowing down. Since we had started to eat seasonally, it was simple to find salad fixings, potatoes, and squash at any of our local markets, at least during the high growing season. </p> <p>Then about a year ago, a last-minute menu change necessitated a run to Harris Teeter for boneless chicken breasts. (Normally we get locally-raised leg quarters, or whole birds that we roast or break down ourselves.) After perusing the brightly lit shelves of the Poultry section at the grocery store, I hefted a packet of mostly-unfrozen breasts and carried it to where Miss Chef stood by our cart. “I can’t really tell, but I think there’s eight in here,” I told her. “I think there’s another layer underneath.” She gave me a patient, if somewhat pitying look and said, “No, there are only four. That’s how thick they are.”</p> <p>I didn’t believe her. She still handled industrially raised birds at work, but I had gotten so used to the reasonably-sized breasts of pastured chickens—you know, the ones that are actually capable of holding up their own body weight—that my brain absolutely could not conceive of the size of these monsters. It wasn’t until we got the package home and unwrapped that I was really convinced. I was also a little freaked out, and wary about eating such freakishly overgrown meat.</p> <p>That was my first hint that I was on a completely different rail than the average American eater. Our first forays into eating seasonally and locally came as an “every little bit helps” effort. Even if we still bought industrially grown bacon, at least our eggs were sustainably produced. Little by little we found new markets and vendors—Uno Alla Volta brought us mozzarella to go with locally grown tomatoes, Carolina Artisan Bakery made the bread to go around those sliced things, farmers started raising more laying hens to meet demand. Fish markets have exploded, mushroom growers are competing for most exotic varieties. And we’re swimming in it all, stocking our pantry with local flour, butter, potatoes and beans.</p> <p>Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, we largely opted out of the mainstream food culture. We’ve made the mental adjustment to consider which farmer has carrots this week, rather than assuming we can always pick some up at Harris Teeter. And I don’t even go into the meat section of the store anymore (well, except when I’m having a craving for a bologna sandwich).</p> <p>So no, we’re not perfect local eaters. We eat out way too often during the week, and not at the fantastic local restaurants I’m always promoting online. I am addicted to Coke (the legal kind). And I eat way too many sandwiches when I should be cooking some of that local pork in our freezer and cabbage in the fridge.</p> <p>But the very fact of our shortcomings gives me hope. Because my concern about our local food movement today is that it doesn’t reach 90% of Americans. The people who want the most for their dollar still have to be convinced of the value of fresh, seasonal foods. But if we allow for imperfection in everyone’s food choices, maybe we can use the taste of ripe local tomatoes as a doorway drug. Maybe that’s the foot in the door that will lead them to try some of those carrots and pasture-raised eggs. Then maybe, like me, they will find themselves 10 years down the road with a grocery cart empty of everything but orange juice and Coke.</p> <p>Because, c’mon, we all need a bad habit, right?</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-13970654785859095232014-11-28T17:49:00.001-05:002014-11-28T17:49:41.773-05:00Garden Update: Before, After, After<p>It seems that Thanksgiving is, for me, more than just a time for feasting with loved ones. Not that I have any problem with the whole feasting part of it.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-oY_bnCv1QkM/VHj7yfILQ7I/AAAAAAAAIcw/BwxbIfmpQD8/s1600-h/IMG_20141127_122920_335%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141127_122920_335" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141127_122920_335" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-QH-LgmsiI7o/VHj7y0KQgeI/AAAAAAAAIc4/Ok0ky2YgDDA/IMG_20141127_122920_335_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Say, er, goodbye to Falstaff. He was one of the “lucky” survivors of the 50 turkey poults <a href="http://amusebouchee.blogspot.com/2014/07/farm-visit.html">I saw arrive at Carlea Farm</a> back in July. Running an obstacle course of disease, owls, hawks and coyotes, 27 of the little buggers made it through to November. After four months of slow growth on pasture, gobbling up grass, weeds, bugs and some supplementary feed, Falstaff made the ultimate sacrifice so that we could enjoy a traditional harvest meal together.</p> <p>As you can see, Miss Chef honored his sacrifice by making him both beautiful and delicious. Thank you, Falstaff.</p> <p>Now it just so happens that the month of our harvest celebration is also the month best suited for me to ensure future harvests. Even with my first experimental fall plantings in place, the garden bed is mostly dormant right now.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-imCq_55o8xs/VHj70AGV9EI/AAAAAAAAIdA/8ptU5EWDCrM/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_151301_914%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_151301_914" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_151301_914" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-mJXGE_bffwI/VHj70-sAkFI/AAAAAAAAIdI/Oz7sVoZJ9W8/IMG_20141120_151301_914_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>In the back, hiding my slow-growing broccoli plants, is my jerry-rigged row cover. The material was purpose bought, but the posts are leftover from my raised-bed projects, and the edges are held down by a motley collection of rocks, pvc pipe sections and spare lumber. Most of the greenery you see is herbs—lavender, rosemary, oregano, sage and thyme. There are a few carrot fronds hanging out; they can survive all but the most intensely cold winters. As the trees lost their leaves, I used them to cover the soil in a couple inches of free, natural mulch. Some of my neighbors even helped out, though they didn’t know it. </p> <p>By the way, did I mention Miss Chef recently bought a pickup truck?</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-K4WzCj7bgxs/VHj71oRfSTI/AAAAAAAAIdQ/iAG2AXhfCDg/s1600-h/IMG_20141112_130158_140%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141112_130158_140" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141112_130158_140" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-HGd-gvI-RW0/VHj72Dn01lI/AAAAAAAAIdY/aQ1ajhNr8Kc/IMG_20141112_130158_140_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Not only is it super handy to haul home seven large bags of leaves plucked from a neighbor’s curb, it also serves perfectly to gather up some black gold for the garden. As I had two years ago, it was time to head on out to my favorite goat farm, Bosky Acres.</p> <p>Michele, my favorite Goat Lady, has a herd of about 50 diary goats who provide her with the primary ingredient for soft goat cheese and feta. They also provide an infinite supply of manure, which gets piled up in a back pasture, where it slowly breaks down into rich compost, complete with lots of earthworms. Last time I took advantage of this free garden booster, I had to shovel it into double-bagged trash liners and load them into my trunk. I barely had enough to cover the whole bed with a scant inch of it. With the truck, I was determined to do it right this time.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-KxgGfO7101c/VHj73NCXGdI/AAAAAAAAIdg/Os3o5M9BNG8/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_123730_926%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_123730_926" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_123730_926" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-yqDW1HlbKbs/VHj73rLJ2rI/AAAAAAAAIdo/zQ21zyUr_x8/IMG_20141120_123730_926_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I had to back Miss Chef’s shiny new truck into a back pasture, next to this grass-covered mound. (You can see the big, open-air goat barn in the background, and Michele’s house on the right.) I didn’t want to transplant all that grass into my garden, so first I had to pull back as much as I could by hand. And here I thought my weeding chores were mostly done for the year.</p> <p>Then it was time to start shoveling. And shoveling. I spend most of my days sitting in front of a keyboard, so my arms, shoulders and back were quick to let me know they weren’t feeling up to a whole lot of this activity.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-B8iNf0u0iyk/VHj746QrpwI/AAAAAAAAIdw/4gFSsX1peSo/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_123810_486%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_123810_486" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_123810_486" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-QKdbuH_K5Y4/VHj75YSTXiI/AAAAAAAAId4/rvnfYdMQeyE/IMG_20141120_123810_486_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I had to stop for a break after a while. I posted the above photo to Facebook with the quip, “Right about now, I have to ask myself if stamp collecting wouldn’t have been a better choice for a hobby.” One of my northern friends commented almost immediately on the sunlight, which kind of put my aching muscles into perspective. So I got back to shoveling without further whining.</p> <p>I stopped before I was completely tired and sore, because I knew there was only more shoveling on the other end of this trip. It was hard to judge from the spread-out pile in the bed just how much I had, but I was pretty confident it would at least cover the main garden bed. I wasn’t sure if it would be enough for a couple other side-projects I had in mind.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-iNJUV--nXcw/VHj76KLfMHI/AAAAAAAAIeA/Po5oIlHm-OQ/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_130016_627%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_130016_627" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_130016_627" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-P7ZSX9m482k/VHj76yCgJ5I/AAAAAAAAIeI/L0t-X2lgRtA/IMG_20141120_130016_627_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The truck was parked uphill on soft dirt, and I had a little trouble getting moving. Fortunately, my years of winter driving in Ohio transferred well to Carolina clay. I backed up to a more level starting place and pulled out of there slow and steady, just like up an ice-covered driveway I once knew well.</p> <p>Of course, I did stop to say hi to The Girls who provided me with such lovely fertilizer. Goats are curious creatures, though, and hard to take pictures of.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-k6qTaz4lC2w/VHj77pllynI/AAAAAAAAIeQ/fA7hzzzTtLw/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_130308_027%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_130308_027" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_130308_027" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-BsUe0es-oYg/VHj78LrnVAI/AAAAAAAAIeY/H27QrNFtHUI/IMG_20141120_130308_027_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p align="center">“Is that phone tasty?”</p> <p>Back home, I got out my trusty orange wheelbarrow and got to work. As I spread the compost over my bed, I started getting pretty excited when I saw how rich and fertile it looked. I also realized that I’d shoveled more than I’d realized, and I definitely had enough to put a good two or three inches over the entire garden.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-S6TAObECyX4/VHj79fGCOoI/AAAAAAAAIeg/2YqDd7AsECs/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_160201_187%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_160201_187" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_160201_187" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-iIe0KOSF2N8/VHj7-M-RkvI/AAAAAAAAIek/0_hqSeoK0Pk/IMG_20141120_160201_187_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>You know you’re a gardener if that picture makes you jealous. However, nature doesn’t like bare earth, so I pulled from my bank of dry leaves to mulch it over once more.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Rhndyidc88c/VHj7_CBExYI/AAAAAAAAIew/GDIS0S8Bc-k/s1600-h/IMG_20141120_162702_486%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141120_162702_486" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141120_162702_486" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-PCN3eJR2oJY/VHj7_v4GGTI/AAAAAAAAIe4/2P1ljIZQUnw/IMG_20141120_162702_486_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Now, after two hours of driving and as much time shoveling, it looks just like it did before! If you look at that white pot half-buried in the bed, though, you can tell that the dirt level is higher. But that’s about the only sign of all my hard work. At least for now. I’m hoping that come spring I’ll be able to see the difference in happier, more productive peas, broccoli and carrots.</p> <p>That was all on the week before Thanksgiving. The day after, my black Friday wasn’t focused on hunting down deals on consumer electronics. It was spent shoveling the rest of that black gold onto some other beds, and creating new ones around our remaining blackberry plant and at the base of my favorite tree out front.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-z2pRNEqUOHw/VHj8Af_rP0I/AAAAAAAAIfA/6PhOrAMVLkY/s1600-h/IMG_20141128_163357_331%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141128_163357_331" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141128_163357_331" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-z91U3CObLm0/VHj8A25icBI/AAAAAAAAIfI/TgFgcfYwdIY/IMG_20141128_163357_331_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>No more weed-whip marks around this baby’s tender trunk. And yup, that’s the truck that made it all possible. Right now, though, I’m mostly thankful I got this job done.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-78092510996186069042014-11-13T11:15:00.001-05:002014-11-13T11:37:38.173-05:00Pet Peeve<p>A friend’s recent post on Facebook dredged up a pet peeve of mine. It’s still rankling around in my brain, so I thought I’d put it down here. Not my usual subject matter, but when I started this blog six years ago, this was its original purpose. (If you’d rather read about another amazing dinner event, click <a href="http://amusebouchee.blogspot.com/2014/11/bosky-acres-benefit-dinner.html">here</a> to read the latest post on my food blog.)</p> <p>Here’s the video that triggered my disbelief. You can watch it or not; it’s a bland little instruction manual about folding fitted sheets. It’s the very first line that caught my attention: “One of the biggest challenges you're going to face in your life is folding fitted sheets.”</p> <div id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:bbf0e3ea-b4d2-4553-be77-50f293b0d0bc" class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" style="width: 484px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto"><div id="de6ec103-567a-468c-9a56-8f46c115fabf" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z5k9nWcuFc&feature=youtube_gdata_player" target="_new"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-I0n35LgCB64/VGTeUCbSDkI/AAAAAAAAIcc/NvfeMrjaq80/videob4c3fe92f66e%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('de6ec103-567a-468c-9a56-8f46c115fabf'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"484\" height=\"272\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/_Z5k9nWcuFc?hl=en&hd=1\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/_Z5k9nWcuFc?hl=en&hd=1\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"484\" height=\"272\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" alt=""></a></div></div></div> <p>Really? I mean, yes, many people do spend their lives mystified by this modern convenience, but if it qualifies as a major event in your life history, you’re pretty darn sheltered!</p> <p>This strikes a nerve with me because it resembles the kind of statements you hear on tv commercials all the dang time. I think I’m particularly sensitive to them because, at an earlier stage in my life, I spent a surprising amount of time watching tv with no sound. </p> <p>It was mostly at the gym, where I preferred to listen to music while tracking miles on an elliptical machine stationed in front of a battery of suspended screens. I might switch to a program that interested me, but was too preoccupied to bother channel-surfing, so got to watch plenty of commercials without their accompanying dramatic music or cheery narration. Often, I had to imagine what intriguing product might follow shots of dimly-lit rippling sheets, or the fascinating conversation two people could be having to lead one of them to suddenly flourish a tube of medicated cream.</p> <p>Once this separation of narration and image occurred to me, it was permanent. So now, even with sound and picture running together, I still pay more attention than most to the smoothly delivered lines drilling into our nation’s subconscious day after day. Do any of these sound familiar?</p> <p>“Now your pores can be practically invisible.” Since when has it become shameful for women to display the fact that their skin is a living, breathing organ? Are visible pores a sign of bad breeding or hygiene? Do women who replace their skin with plastic become better sex partners? Are wide pores on the TSA’s list of suspicious signs of terrorist involvement? I must have missed a memo somewhere.</p> <p>“Keep tiny hands germ-free and healthy.” No. Just, no. Study after study has shown that children exposed to the horrifying messes of pets and—*gasp!*—the outdoors develop stronger immune systems and fewer allergies. Yet the makers of disinfecting products continue to meet success with the message that keeping a white-tiled, sterile home is the only way a loving mother would raise her children. (In spite of all the progress we’ve made, how many Lysol commercials feature Dad wiping down an otherwise spotless counter with a self-satisfied smile?)</p> <p>“…the luxury and dependability you deserve.” Really? Do you know me? Have you seen the dirty dishes on my counter, the projects on my desk I’ve been putting off, or the unanswered emails required difficult decisions? It’s not like I’ve led the federal government to a new cost-cutting way of saving lives or feeding the homeless. I’m not Ghandi, Warren Buffet or even Mary Poppins. If my personal achievements aren’t relevant, it must be true that you believe anyone able to sit up and pay attention to a tv commercial is worthy of wearing a Rolex or driving a Bentley. So then, why don’t you just give me the damn thing, if I deserve it so much?</p> <p>Go ahead, next time a commercial pops onto your tv, listen carefully to the assumptions it’s asking you to make. With practice, you too might separate from the party line, and suddenly find that your list of “needs” gets cut dramatically. As a bonus, you might even find some entertainment in these ridiculous sirens to our consumerist culture. </p> <p>Although I have to admit, my amusement is tempered with frustration when I realize how thoroughly brainwashed most of my fellow citizens continue to be.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-30195400656103847352014-11-07T20:29:00.001-05:002014-11-07T20:29:46.896-05:00Gather: Día de los Muertos<p>Last weekend was the fourth of Miss Chef’s underground dinners, completing the first year of our seasonal events. There were a few differences from the other dinners. First, after dissatisfaction with a couple of people she’d had running “front of house,” we decided I would give it a go this time.</p> <p>Second, when she told me she’d settled on the Saturday right after Halloween, I said, “You do realize that’s the Day of the Dead.” And she decided to run with it, the first time we’ve had a theme for a dinner. Having taught Spanish for five years, I thought it would be a fun, adult way to take advantage of Halloween without overdoing it.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-vDJVMq3fwIU/VF1xulbmlXI/AAAAAAAAIU0/00jU6tjzTHI/s1600-h/sugar_skull%25255B2%25255D.png"><img title="sugar_skull" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="sugar_skull" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-qZsIGnrG2A0/VF1xvKuI9jI/AAAAAAAAIU8/u6_BcfVy6oA/sugar_skull_thumb.png?imgmax=800" width="244" height="244"></a></p> <p>I did up our Facebook and Eventbrite pages with bright colors and this vibrant <em>calavera</em>, and for the first time I sent out the announcements without worrying about whether we’d sell enough tickets to break even.</p> <p>A week before the dinner, Miss Chef and I were getting a bit nervous. In spite of many people telling us they were coming, we’d only sold four tickets. She said if she didn’t have at least six diners, she would cancel it—something I hadn’t even considered since the early days of this Underground adventure.</p> <p>Then, as always, tickets started selling two days beforehand. When the dust settled, we suddenly had 22 paying guests to feed. It felt glorious, right until I realized this just upped the challenge level all the way around.</p> <p>Part of that challenge lay in the fact that for the first time we’d have to provide all the table settings. So we took a trek up to Ikea, on the far side of town from us. Since Miss Chef has always capped the dinners at 30 people, we needed 30 place settings. Sounds straightforward enough, until you consider that she uses different plates for appetizers, soups, several courses and desserts. Not to mention the various salad forks, dessert forks, soup spoons, coffee spoons, steak knives, water pitchers, coffee cups….</p> <p>Anyway, an hour or two later, and we had blown almost all our revenue on hardware.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-XN566je0BYg/VF1xvktTpZI/AAAAAAAAIVE/t9W1RjnDGXY/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 (2)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 (2)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-OhJP1rF__7s/VF1xwJCN-3I/AAAAAAAAIVI/0kU0DbMx23I/2014%25252011%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Oh, and did I mention Miss Chef had bought a truck a few days before? She’d been wanting to for years, just something small we could use for home-improvement supplies, yard projects and Gather. When she doesn’t have a kitchen available, she uses our grill, so we needed a way to haul that. And I can’t complain too hard at the prospect of getting compost or mulch by the truckload, instead of buying those stupid bags from Home Depot.</p> <p>Anyway, back to Gather. Our Día de los Muertos event was held at Atherton Market, where I’ve been volunteering and Miss Chef has added to her regular Saturday morning market route. It was indoors, with plenty of space, and even offered a large sink we could do some washing in. Our last site didn’t have any hot water available, and the cleanup was just this side of traumatic. Fancy stoves we don’t need, but hot soapy water is a deal-breaker now.</p> <p>As soon as Miss Chef had decided to adapt her menu to match the theme, I jumped in with the clever idea of providing blank sugar skulls for our guests to paint. Lynn, our resident pastry chef, agreed to provide the colored royal icing for the decorations, and it fell to me to make the skulls themselves. I ordered a mold off the internet and spent an afternoon making them…but then, with our numbers jumping at the last minute, I had to get up early to make a second batch Saturday morning while Miss Chef was at the markets.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BS1xfcm0Jw_VnKuHWQxHNHgVDl1l6E_dMGYA_eCL4Giap4zgTh5KfeAD3vYtPIK6XyVUWEcMD6EAUVipBOSDa1QG6c1acGbE9EQiekWvC7RcFlul17AeHbFDrJ08GY8P6sfbI812vLqe/s1600-h/IMG_20141029_171640_923%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141029_171640_923" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141029_171640_923" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Ug7DoKej63E/VF1xxJ98aQI/AAAAAAAAIVY/nvWXZbQtem4/IMG_20141029_171640_923_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Just two ingredients: sugar and egg whites. I had no idea how many skulls I’d get out of one 6-cup recipe, so I bought a big ol’ 10-pound bag. Turns out I only needed about 8 cups total. Oh well, holiday baking season is just around the corner!</p> <p>Just a tiny bit of egg white gets the sugar to wet sand consistency, enough to hold its shape when it pops out of the mold.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-DQOHxqWUGrI/VF1xxkNV_fI/AAAAAAAAIVk/s-dUbmxJ-bw/s1600-h/IMG_20141029_173134_889%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141029_173134_889" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141029_173134_889" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-pWauWIVgrwg/VF1xyDiM0YI/AAAAAAAAIVo/XpEzDEPBtQM/IMG_20141029_173134_889_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It was all very easy, once I got the system down. Of course, the cat had to inspect <em>everything</em> as I was working.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-XaXCx-IQhXQ/VF1xyiWbatI/AAAAAAAAIV0/qBWktsNkBN8/s1600-h/IMG_20141029_173510_017%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141029_173510_017" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141029_173510_017" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-zbiiLK_DHeM/VF1xzM86egI/AAAAAAAAIV4/RVBhAaYw1MI/IMG_20141029_173510_017_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>“<strike>Elbows</strike> Paws off the table, Princess!”</p> <p>The reason I had to get up early for these is that, without a week’s worth of drying time, they had to bake at low temp for four hours to get properly rock hard.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-IfcKtMYY6FU/VF1xzieEYbI/AAAAAAAAIWE/kKQkJ9iwjeo/s1600-h/IMG_20141029_175622_596%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141029_175622_596" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141029_175622_596" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-xF9REwHSHXY/VF1x0DtBNwI/AAAAAAAAIWM/h6Rmp-v4mkA/IMG_20141029_175622_596_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>All in all, the whole project went off very well, and I was out of the real cooks’ way right on time.</p> <p>Although, to be honest, time was in short supply…after a day of prep, we all left late for the market, and weren’t halfway set up when the guests got there. For my first time as front of house manager, I felt I was doing a terrible job. Fortunately, most of the guests are also friends, and with a few extra hands, we got everyone settled.</p> <p>Sadly, I was a little late sharing the story behind the sugar skulls, and some of the guests were too happy sitting down with their first glasses of wine to go play.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-nGawxRnxGYQ/VF1x05nNTFI/AAAAAAAAIWU/i25FTjAOniI/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520%25252812%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 (12)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 (12)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-BiQ-M4jfcdI/VF1x1TvrppI/AAAAAAAAIWY/NGBa6VPtKKM/2014%25252011%252520%25252812%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-7l7XIAiyAl4/VF1x11gUxSI/AAAAAAAAIWk/LQ6CbbdoJj8/s1600-h/2014%25252011%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-s7sPYIvyqbo/VF1x2Zqtj9I/AAAAAAAAIWs/NsxeaTZqrII/2014%25252011_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef was feeling a little panicky too, but by the time the salad course came out, I had caught my breath and my stride and was able to start taking pictures.</p> <p>This was before the salad dish, so not my photo—this is posole soup, which came with a little history, thanks to Miss Chef’s having taught the Latin Cuisine course a few years ago. This traditional soup was eaten by the ancient Aztecs, as a side benefit of all the meat available after human sacrifices. When the Catholic priests hit the scene, they insisted on substituting pork for human flesh, as it’s apparently the closest in flavor. Yum?</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-rFPQpEY_EpU/VF1x3H40R0I/AAAAAAAAIW0/uua1z0-ThIM/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520posole%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 posole" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 posole" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-msd-XgpnI_k/VF1x3rKPIWI/AAAAAAAAIW8/GVnKBbIhETY/2014%25252011%252520posole_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="304" height="404"></a></p> <p>Next dish—scallops!</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-sGOBOjMvAXk/VF1x4P4E7zI/AAAAAAAAIXE/QD_FJDCyiEQ/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520%2525284%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 (4)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 (4)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-x-G4F8jERxk/VF1x4mCB6AI/AAAAAAAAIXM/DEuPAY0OcVk/2014%25252011%252520%2525284%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>22 plates, including one vegan and a gluten-free vegetarian, and no heat lamps! The scallops were paired with a butternut squash purée and emperor’s rice. Here’s a picture I stole from one of our guest’s Facebook posts, because I didn’t get one of the finished product.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-BURel_0rYvo/VF1x5AdiAII/AAAAAAAAIXU/85aXrBtMa5I/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520scallop%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 scallop" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 scallop" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Fot4qTdoFlQ/VF1x5wvstBI/AAAAAAAAIXY/eCc2hkdxyu8/2014%25252011%252520scallop_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="504" height="379"></a></p> <p>The beef course was coffee-molasses glazed flank steak with a black bean tamale, cilantro gremolata and crispy fried pepper bits. The upright garnish is popcorn shoots.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-1PZC6C_95Tw/VF1x6U2ADAI/AAAAAAAAIXk/_BY64v3jIEw/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520steak%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 steak" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 steak" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-_su0MgFX8ic/VF1x6_qaIzI/AAAAAAAAIXs/DoO244YHJ70/2014%25252011%252520steak_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="379" height="504"></a></p> <p>I would say this was the general favorite, as the diners sucked this down so fast I barely had time to refill water glasses before it was time to start clearing the empty plates.</p> <p>Regardless of how tired our feet get or how much our backs may hurt, the guests always seem to have a great time.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-qPofjaTI5EM/VF1x7bl_xyI/AAAAAAAAIX0/q_n2ttVKtEo/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520%25252818%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 (18)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 (18)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-aIBlbKCiaDs/VF1x_p5Ng3I/AAAAAAAAIX8/L99pwVIKpAU/2014%25252011%252520%25252818%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Lynn’s dessert was a cream puff with pumpkin and goat cheese mousse, a “swoosh” of chocolate and toasted pecan brittle.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-sGTuOe0LVoY/VF1yACxwaWI/AAAAAAAAIYE/SZJcXtIzVgQ/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520%25252829%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 (29)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 (29)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-_3DrXQuIaXI/VF1yAyh7OXI/AAAAAAAAIYM/PFn1T0C1kRc/2014%25252011%252520%25252829%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>As if this weren’t enough, we had a special guest chef helping out, and he happens to be a self-described Chocolate Guy—he does some work with Callebaut chocolates. So he put together an after-dinner treat that was so good, most of the guests actually found enough room after six courses to actually eat some of it.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-7C0bWb3byn4/VF1yBQQawwI/AAAAAAAAIYU/kuw-UDViAW4/s1600-h/2014%25252011%252520mignardise%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="2014 11 mignardise" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="2014 11 mignardise" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-1RYBzNs69zo/VF1yB90bOnI/AAAAAAAAIYc/weSAnA7x-r0/2014%25252011%252520mignardise_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="504" height="379"></a></p> <p>I was too busy clearing plates, filling water or trying to catch up with dirty dishes to hear what all of these were. Actually, our Chocolate Guy had spent a good portion of the night washing dishes, which saved my bacon when we needed more dessert forks. Still, gathering up all the dirty pots and pans, leftover food, remaining supplies, decorations and general trash was a daunting prospect. By the end, it’s <em>possible</em> that some of our crew may have become just a little hysterical. (Warning: loud volume, mildly improper language)</p> <div id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:7bf73c12-37a3-403d-92f4-46aaf8e154d0" class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" style="width: 614px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto"><div id="dd099d67-4f11-4489-b6ec-da0bc3c01056" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v80rLhLUtbE&feature=youtube_gdata_player" target="_new"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Z2kFpYO3jYM/VF1yCYY3iuI/AAAAAAAAIYk/b_50fkmQYsY/videodf66cc666b94%25255B24%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('dd099d67-4f11-4489-b6ec-da0bc3c01056'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"614\" height=\"345\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/v80rLhLUtbE?hl=en&hd=1\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/v80rLhLUtbE?hl=en&hd=1\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"614\" height=\"345\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" alt=""></a></div></div></div> <p>Today, almost a week later, we’ve just cleared the last of the clean dishes out of the living room, storing them away in the shed until next time. Already the sore feet and backs are just a fuzzy memory, and for some crazy reason we’re actually looking forward to the next event in January.</p> <p>Because when you live with a chef, crazy is catching.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-17333946476415673482014-10-28T16:18:00.001-04:002014-10-28T16:18:18.342-04:00What’s a pig picking?<p>I asked this question about three years ago, when friends of ours near Boone mentioned it as an annual January event. It’s what Yankees like me would call a whole-hog roast, ie, kill a pig, cook it up, invite a ton of people to join you in a frenzy of food and drink.</p> <p>Well, we were never invited to that January event, but this weekend Miss Chef and I enjoyed our second pig picking of the year. This one was hosted by Lee and Domisty Menius of <a href="http://www.wildturkeyfarms.com/">Wild Turkey Farms</a>, about an hour away from us on the far east side of Charlotte. Unlike the <a href="http://flartus.blogspot.com/2014/05/pig-roast.html">last one</a> we attended, in Holy City, South Carolina, many of our friends were invited, so this was a true community event for us.</p> <p>We showed up about an hour late, which is kind of right on time for these kinds of gatherings. The hosts have done this a time or two before.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-g94Wqjpi5a4/VE_5rqP4LJI/AAAAAAAAIQk/sZ56Lix3TeQ/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252838%252529%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (38)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (38)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-VzoS3pAA8f8/VE_5suQIqkI/AAAAAAAAIQs/iyqVFK6Jh9w/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252838%252529_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We trundled over to the long line of tables set up to hold everyone’s side offerings. Casseroles, greens, salads, beans of various colors and of course an overabundance of desserts, including pumpkin pie and s’mores cake. Decadent.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRFt4qlzCHsDz5UGeGpv6FYGcTXtKlOf85FubCP088iy2PDWqWSTGVHQ_SYBhkKqprZH7D0Vx8bNlezTHhonVpYEDbAvyBqNy7dAKhyCof5bHKtD42yq7FVf_GPS03z8W1of4VbvC5TpJ/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525286%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (6)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (6)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-NXDYiHjhzkw/VE_5tu4xsJI/AAAAAAAAIQ8/jCq2XwJdDmc/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525286%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Almost immediately after room was cleared for Miss Chef’s slaw and my corn casserole, the line at the smoker was officially opened.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-6Q_OlsrZzMM/VE_5uaBc2CI/AAAAAAAAIRE/F7x0C41AMN8/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525281%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (1)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (1)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ps1C8hHmMJA/VE_5vH-nlxI/AAAAAAAAIRI/H_m7fmibFdU/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I didn’t learn until the next day that there was a lamb in there, too. You can see how I might have missed it, by the time I came through.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-OrWQHIAevvY/VE_5vzfiCWI/AAAAAAAAIRU/xp-p-N-wT60/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (2)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (2)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-3GN6Pwg3-Yk/VE_5wdYI9AI/AAAAAAAAIRc/gu3OmfdLUlE/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We got to select whatever chunks of meat we pleased, then have it sauced before moving on to the sides. Miss Chef and I found seats under an open shelter emptied of equipment for our dining pleasure. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-syC44LijyHA/VE_5xGgx4SI/AAAAAAAAIRk/0_MGOszX_Y8/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525287%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (7)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (7)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-YGOhTQqEKsE/VE_5x4fMwdI/AAAAAAAAIRs/mybjmUvGwRA/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%2525287%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We ended up sitting next to Carl and Leah Wagner, who have raised our Thanksgiving turkey for the past four years or so. We chatted about turkeys, their youngest daughter’s first year in college and the band of coyotes that’s been coming closer and closer to their property this year.</p> <p>After filling up on pig, broccoli casserole and loaded mashed potatoes, I felt like taking a turn around the property before stopping by the dessert spread. On the other end of our dining field, a flock of chickens was enjoying the beautiful fall afternoon, getting in the last few bites before sunset.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-DnyUP3Fw6SM/VE_5yzj3FXI/AAAAAAAAIR0/MaUgOCGHm6g/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252813%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (13)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (13)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-woaP87Ym_K8/VE_5zo6iq4I/AAAAAAAAIR8/xR2M4ppydYs/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252813%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-sUVmNmR97O8/VE_50qzYhGI/AAAAAAAAISE/rsYpZkNmL3I/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252816%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (16)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (16)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-zvjUZNGhdPE/VE_51Xvc43I/AAAAAAAAISM/yYsAIZHIsQY/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252816%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef joined me as I headed in the opposite direction, where we’d seen a few pigs when we parked in the field on the other side of the Bobcat. The pigs were out of sight behind a slight rise, but we did find the farm’s namesakes (sort of).</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-vnYesVE40UQ/VE_52LhOGFI/AAAAAAAAISU/z3p2EWQ8A3I/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252829%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (29)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (29)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-cLuydObbvzA/VE_52jXCBtI/AAAAAAAAISc/fFbMCL20rbQ/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252829%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>They’re not exactly wild, though they are a little…odd.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7ONNYRj51oJeWQyxEyZoRpsy51uqfH-QqqyFkZ2Frg15XYIwPiFZiWvnhq7lvR-Oi6HmzcX5qkFEZIQGg5FdN1qLiSKVTLPWD0UKkf-cYEtENxufe-Su1H1XkL7kMfbQyqmKXsWBQZ4e/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252835%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (35)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (35)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-zNUYKWveQnQ/VE_54KzJipI/AAAAAAAAISo/UK34MmB3naQ/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252835%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Lest you think these poor birds are crammed into a filthy, dung-filled crate, notice the trail of feathers in the background? This entire enclosure is moved, probably at least once a day, so they have access to fresh grass and bugs.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ibNpYHYKC5I/VE_54v4J7RI/AAAAAAAAIS0/Na0bpI9ebho/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252821%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (21)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (21)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Ask8lBoOJUc/VE_55WMTUPI/AAAAAAAAIS8/AtQzwQV1S00/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252821%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>I wonder what the turning radius is on that vehicle?</p> <p>Meanwhile, the pigs must have thought it was dinnertime, so they came wandering up the hill to say…well, this.</p> <div id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:174ae917-9785-4e18-bf82-2fc652a7fe51" class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" style="width: 572px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto"><div id="41c203e6-b7bf-445e-9bd0-982e798b27e9" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xihEqAed1t4&feature=youtube_gdata_player" target="_new"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-94l9chpb_6I/VE_551m1tYI/AAAAAAAAITE/F3ruB95rab4/video43dc327c9a4a%25255B42%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('41c203e6-b7bf-445e-9bd0-982e798b27e9'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"572\" height=\"321\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/xihEqAed1t4?hl=en&hd=1\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/xihEqAed1t4?hl=en&hd=1\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"572\" height=\"321\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" alt=""></a></div></div></div> <p>Yeah, these free-ranging Berkshires stand surprisingly tall and move more easily than their overbred, overfed pink counterparts. I think the one on the left was a male propositioning a female on the right. My nervousness seems to amuse him.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-VdkKzc4sglQ/VE_56j2j-iI/AAAAAAAAITM/OaGxxgq31E0/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252828b%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (28b)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (28b)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-vIi7gO8W0uM/VE_57vz90EI/AAAAAAAAITU/tAZ1EX81wcY/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252828b%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="369"></a></p> <p>We had nothing more to say to the pigs, so Miss Chef and I wandered back to the party, past a group of skittish lambs…who probably have good reason to be skittish. They look about the right size for slaughter. Sorry, guys, but at least you have room to run.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-1RDUj5orwWQ/VE_58S3m72I/AAAAAAAAITc/ZM2KEEfINQk/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252818%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (18)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (18)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-oNqgBikQuv0/VE_588SDNeI/AAAAAAAAITk/LQYb8yPG_To/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252818%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>As darkness fell, the grain towers were adorned with lights, and a steady stream of people made the short trek to their cars, fetching sweaters and blankets.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-1EQRXM0-Eq4/VE_59To694I/AAAAAAAAITs/o2P7_eAKfg8/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252840%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (40)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (40)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-mKESWNlew0I/VE_5-LO4KlI/AAAAAAAAIT0/7JG6STh-M0M/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252840%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>And then, just as the chill threatened to turn to cold, the bonfire was lit.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-C2vs2zDjoq8/VE_5-voH2TI/AAAAAAAAIT8/1jLphWixkdA/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252846%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (46)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (46)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-bRUkTct_qD4/VE_5_LAakiI/AAAAAAAAIUE/RpJKAA-snYc/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252846%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It’s awfully hard to get good bonfire photos with a cell phone…but a little post-production assistance helps a bit.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-L8BSxnPulgk/VE_6AHYgdzI/AAAAAAAAIUM/2Vvj-LgN1-U/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252858%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (58)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (58)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-oVD7TiYpcso/VE_6AjSn0tI/AAAAAAAAIUQ/Q3UIBYb9WpU/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252858%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>The distance of these revelers from the fire itself should give you some idea of the amount of heat being put out. If not, this shot of the tractor and barn up the hill is a good representation. As they say on Instagram, #noflash, #nofilter.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSRCwp5iGGy4-h2bwAFckzPztXlvCuaeHEx74mwsQGALGfHgH221whr0aO9j0J0FFYXJc9LbqXW3qA_SHoWK2X93N0yJlilp0kysWiStr9Ra6ld4E_fyXGNH21BaoRYsGXWOL5P0lyk2g/s1600-h/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252853%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="WTF pig picking 10 (53)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="WTF pig picking 10 (53)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qwaTFcn2eVM/VE_6CBzzSwI/AAAAAAAAIUk/QuUL3e1DeRg/WTF%252520pig%252520picking%25252010%252520%25252853%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We hung around until the fire burned down to coals, the s’mores fixin’s came out, and most of the party had drifted away. Eventually we too thanked our hosts with great sincerity and called it a night. Even the hour drive home in the dark couldn’t erase my sense of grateful well-being brought on by a blanketful of stars and the smoky comfort of a warm fire on a cool night.</p> <p>Yup, it was another one of those moments when I think to myself, “I must be doing something right.”</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-18907568484200501192014-10-22T23:52:00.001-04:002014-10-22T23:52:41.110-04:00Adventures in Food<p>Sometimes I fall out of the blogiverse from lack of inspiration, or from boredom. The past two weeks have been the opposite. I’ve been so busy having adventures that I haven’t had time to document them all! An excellent problem to have, and one that I’m sitting down to rectify at 10:30 on a Wednesday night.</p> <p>Don’t worry, there are lots of pictures.</p> <p>As my professional/social network grows, I managed to get Miss Chef and myself invited to an oven party. Perfect for a chef, eh? The deal is this couple have an outdoor wood-fired oven that they fire up, invite all the neighbors, and have everyone make their own pizzas to cook up.</p> <p>One of the guys is an artist, working in ceramics. So the oven has a unique appearance, like a miniature Gaudi home imported from Barcelona.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-1uXK1QrUR6w/VEh7NpNK2GI/AAAAAAAAIMU/G9a3jo5bYOs/s1600-h/Chateau%252520D%252527Ough%25252010%252520%2525286%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chateau D'Ough 10 (6)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chateau D'Ough 10 (6)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-K7yfAv8BlN4/VEh7OVdCsOI/AAAAAAAAIMc/hpR5bZcdyUs/Chateau%252520D%252527Ough%25252010%252520%2525286%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>You can almost make out the name above the opening: Château d’Ough. Get it? It’s a pun on the French “château d’eau,” which is pronounced the same but simply means water tower. We’re getting all European up in here.</p> <p>The oven is surrounded by a lush backyard, complete with a huge dining table and granite-topped counters. It’s a perfect place to gather on a perfect fall evening, so it’s not surprising that it was packed by the time the pizzas were going in.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/--fLgbpy2Afw/VEh7Ow9bH1I/AAAAAAAAIMg/uEPBN3nVSc0/s1600-h/Chateau%252520D%252527Ough%25252010%252520%25252811%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chateau D'Ough 10 (11)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chateau D'Ough 10 (11)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-NBfQCKalt7w/VEh7PSNG5NI/AAAAAAAAIMs/FaZUnbi7yBI/Chateau%252520D%252527Ough%25252010%252520%25252811%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Of course, the lighting sucked for photography, but here’s a picture of dinner cooking. Those foil packets on the right are two heads of garlic I brought for roasting.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-dUcWk9b5Q5E/VEh7QP2RhhI/AAAAAAAAIM0/g8S3wgTuNo8/s1600-h/Chateau%252520D%252527Ough%25252010%252520%25252816%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Chateau D'Ough 10 (16)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Chateau D'Ough 10 (16)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-u0k46l7_Y3U/VEh7Qhjii_I/AAAAAAAAIM8/GC5sPZGwEOw/Chateau%252520D%252527Ough%25252010%252520%25252816%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef and I had a fun time, eating, drinking and meeting some new friends. But that was just the start of our weekend. Of course Saturday was full of markets, interviews and the like. But Sunday was the big event. The Piedmont Culinary Guild, a collection of chefs, farmers and other nodes in the local food network, was putting on its second annual Carved event, and Miss Chef and I were both volunteering.</p> <p>We gather over 25 local chefs in one place, give them each a pumpkin and two hours to play. The public pays to watch, vote and enjoy some free samples, music and other entertainment. To be clear, the samples were of locally grown popcorn and pressed-on-site cider, not raw pumpkin.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ErTu6F5cRHg/VEh7RdrxniI/AAAAAAAAINE/znynYQhFGwo/s1600-h/IMG_20141019_162318_511%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141019_162318_511" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141019_162318_511" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-IbBj4WNGp-U/VEh7SCWYJAI/AAAAAAAAINI/kBFAq44HD6o/IMG_20141019_162318_511_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>We set up two long tables, back to back, halfway down the market. There were a whole lot of pumpkins to admire and vote on. This one below was on its way to becoming one of the Wild Things from the Maurice Sendak book.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-nG17tbUyxEo/VEh7S9kgCsI/AAAAAAAAINU/CJYSYmBJMb0/s1600-h/IMG_20141019_162422_689%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141019_162422_689" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141019_162422_689" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-WDHbeMWjhb8/VEh7TfYtOjI/AAAAAAAAINY/NuTZ7-SClss/IMG_20141019_162422_689_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>This is a student at the Art Institute, who just happens to be from Thailand, where they take their fruit carving seriously.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-rL3OJNAAR1I/VEh7T0pHkCI/AAAAAAAAINk/VUy7XPVq6Fo/s1600-h/IMG_20141019_163015_594%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141019_163015_594" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141019_163015_594" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-CPhSgwaWI50/VEh7Uvjm8hI/AAAAAAAAINo/lEbh0dN5W9w/IMG_20141019_163015_594_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>There were no restrictions on props, so there were clouds of dry ice, extra lights…</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-XqPTpYcJKlo/VEh7VLopUKI/AAAAAAAAIN0/-EPa4lTEQTM/s1600-h/IMG_20141019_163116_141%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141019_163116_141" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141019_163116_141" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-3ctP293yMls/VEh7VvFcTYI/AAAAAAAAIN4/b8sHPKfPpXQ/IMG_20141019_163116_141_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>…and even live fish! This was my favorite, but it was unveiled very late in the proceedings, after most people had already voted.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7lJH7yvHAyBpFNN8OUSuxJzQBCDp6lZn_yZm4KSy29pYHw9-1O7ScHCKtSsTweg0GToWOTR18Oh3GCwhw6Z5I8D-IQCqdX8lVYqHMeHrPdqLHHAnBSa_LPXhgj7TtrdFILt4h3Dy9_zj/s1600-h/IMG_20141019_173638_316%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141019_173638_316" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141019_173638_316" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-XmnyBrNVC9g/VEh7W1BtNXI/AAAAAAAAIOM/tJUvnHwoZlI/IMG_20141019_173638_316_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Halfway through the carving, I was dragooned into making announcements—“30 minutes left, buy more voting tickets and stop by our t-shirt table!”—so I didn’t get photos of all the finished products. This next one ended up being the winner—it was labeled “Spooky Sushi,” and I think its popularity was due in part to the original way he broke the pumpkin down into a tube, which he then sliced into rounds.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-nAXkpL2R4Ys/VEh7XRYNfZI/AAAAAAAAIOU/ceituQcXFo0/s1600-h/IMG_20141019_163031_453%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141019_163031_453" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141019_163031_453" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-xHRepRoiou8/VEh7X-En40I/AAAAAAAAIOY/Z5rggtlAOos/IMG_20141019_163031_453_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>I don’t eat sushi, so I don’t get it.</p> <p>After a 5-hour shift of hauling tables and chairs and standing on concrete flooring, I woke up sore and stiff on Monday. But I didn’t have a whole lot of time to waste. I had deadlines and interviews lined up all week (although my interview schedule keeps changing). My weekly online stories had garnered the attention of a caterer we know who’s starting up another side business and needed some web content written. So, bam, I’m a web content writer. My first freelance contract!</p> <p>Anyway, I had that draft due, along with my usual Wednesday deadline. But I had to get them in early, because Wednesday was already packed, with a conference call and two foodie events.</p> <p>The first event was in Miss Chef’s A la Carte class. She asked Matt, a sous-chef whose family has a beef business, if he’d sell her half a cow and come in to show the students how to break it down.</p> <p>Which he did.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-F4OE3x6WkNM/VEh7YgznE6I/AAAAAAAAIOk/OcZkiL_H4vo/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_154248_948%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_154248_948" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_154248_948" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-r0kbXYGnW1s/VEh7ZcvFuKI/AAAAAAAAIOo/BWtxeJ0PrqE/IMG_20141022_154248_948_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>That’s 350 pounds of grass-fed beef. Matt is more comfortable fabricating pigs, so he recruited another chef, Clark, to help him out. Miss Chef and another instructor had to lend a hand, too.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOMl9dyZrN4cPDuEU_qVE1GGSC8E23z_A2jA2YB5u8YU8LRkT-VKs0RmEsQTltaz2u-xXK9DsJqJ0owwOQFf34EyZ1IUvuqpInJLOGvuwACw0m1qkx3o-3hvpyL1B4SA1Uc-bg6ZkksKG/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_162150_250%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_162150_250" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_162150_250" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-L6YHWOYdUyQ/VEh7ampabXI/AAAAAAAAIO4/q28Vgb08Xbw/IMG_20141022_162150_250_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>After an hour and a half with several knives and a couple of saws, they had this ready to store in the cooler.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-4iR4IqWBj5Q/VEh7bVodwPI/AAAAAAAAIPE/mWaK2Y08t4c/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_163839_782%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_163839_782" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_163839_782" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-yWuCEB8Fulc/VEh7cBypK0I/AAAAAAAAIPM/6WiQMe8RFUo/IMG_20141022_163839_782_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>This is more or less what they call “primal cuts,” which the students will have to break down further into ribs, steaks, etc. If they can buy entire animals or even primal cuts, they’ll save their future kitchens a lot of money.</p> <p>My second foodie event of the day was on the opposite side of the food preparation scale. One of our favorite restaurants, Passion8 (where we got to know Matt when he was sous-chef there), has moved nearer to uptown Charlotte, and tonight was their media night. They invited all us important writer types to tour the new space, with a glass of Prosecco in hand and elegant hors d’oeuvres coming around.</p> <p>Again, I had to fight with low lighting. This is the main dining area—out of three—with the bar behind it. There are lots of curtains used to separate different sections, which should also help with baffling sound in this high-ceilinged space.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-QSv60ktsDE8/VEh7cgPOWWI/AAAAAAAAIPU/E17q_zHmlZc/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_185022_573%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_185022_573" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_185022_573" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ChPSqlkEy8U/VEh7ddxO6bI/AAAAAAAAIPc/G9T-OrJLrvg/IMG_20141022_185022_573_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>A view from the “mezzanine” area down to the bar, with the main dining room to the left.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-dAHz8HDiSgc/VEh7d0IXV_I/AAAAAAAAIPk/EubfPvUO3Tg/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_185200_344%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_185200_344" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_185200_344" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-PhCbIn8yYio/VEh7eXZr-gI/AAAAAAAAIPs/DDhsunNKEF4/IMG_20141022_185200_344_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>These were sweet potato chips with a squash <em>crema</em> and some stuff I can’t remember…</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-dEqcUTr7f7s/VEh7fAHT9RI/AAAAAAAAIP0/GBwOJ5nEu8I/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_193920_061%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_193920_061" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_193920_061" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Ds9p6Ru1o9A/VEh7gD3RkdI/AAAAAAAAIP8/h-YNBf44QtY/IMG_20141022_193920_061_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>…and this is the whole selection of hors d’oeuvres. From front to back, tomato & shallot salad on olive oil cracker, braised chicken with apricot and sesame on lettuce, the sweet potato chip, braised pork on house-made foccacia and truffled shortbread with foie gras mousse and muscadine foam.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3DmJACWOsXg/VEh7glOtgjI/AAAAAAAAIQE/GCBaTJFPkOo/s1600-h/IMG_20141022_194250_938%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20141022_194250_938" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_194250_938" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-CzcomJ-cj_g/VEh7hIAirVI/AAAAAAAAIQI/2mhzoKQ8wqE/IMG_20141022_194250_938_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Part of the reason I’m bothering with all the detailed ingredients is that tomorrow I have to sit down and write a concise couple of paragraphs about this opening for Creative Loafing. It’s a quick turnaround time, but I’m feeling generous today, since they just came out with…</p> <p>…my first cover story!</p> <p><a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/it-came-from-the-walk-in-cooler/Content?oid=3546408"><img title="IMG_20141022_170758" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20141022_170758" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-23MmkCWPAdQ/VEh7hp0tf-I/AAAAAAAAIQU/mpQBSV5i0wY/IMG_20141022_170758%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="433" height="440"></a></p> <p>Yup, 2000 words worth of freaky stories collected from some of my favorite chef friends. Click the picture to read them for yourself.</p> <p>And now, it’s off to bed. Tomorrow’s another adventure.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-3999401510057130062014-10-04T18:56:00.001-04:002014-10-04T18:56:50.685-04:00Getting away, and coming back<p>After our <a href="http://amusebouchee.blogspot.com/2014/09/what-i-learned-about-apples.html" target="_blank">unexciting weekend in Elkin</a> last month, Miss Chef and I wanted to get back to our <em>real</em> mountain adventures and apple picking. Usually we go for our anniversary, closer to the end of the month, but with her quarter break this past week and a full docket coming up later on, we decided to get out there while the getting was good.</p> <p>As it turned out, Miss Chef had more preparation than usual for the upcoming quarter, so we really only had one day to play with. We drove to Flat Rock late on Wednesday, then rose early on Thursday to head out to <a href="http://www.skytoporchard.com/" target="_blank">Skytop Orchard</a>, where we’ve gotten apples the past 3 or 4 years.</p> <p>It was foggy when we left the hotel, but by the time we arrived at the orchard and headed down—and up, and down—the slopes with our baskets, the skies were clear. We managed to draw away from the multiple school and church groups full of excited children, and had the Cortland row to ourselves. </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzmpD9AovzrLaFkFbdLEEQZB2B3r76P12pomfAuRNUCF_7waoFHeAXPE0Nxw2BJh7khpJS6hlLkOzjVN-qjPq1LkgMbcgxc7H0t1CGGUWEbF_eXIoH52YGC6JomRkHN7uCUPK8a4Z7z8C/s1600-h/Skytop%252520%2525282%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Skytop (2)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Skytop (2)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-rGho1swsUE0/VDB65LtSlDI/AAAAAAAAIJE/90Fe7zE7ALY/Skytop%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Most of the trees were picked out, or had only green apples within our reach. We had to walk nearly to the end of the row before finding trees with ripe fruit low enough for picking, but in the end, we had more than enough to fill our baskets. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-JH506qmvCr8/VDB652F15XI/AAAAAAAAIJM/glGd6M1EKGs/s1600-h/Skytop%252520%2525283%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Skytop (3)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Skytop (3)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-VvI4K7UN42w/VDB66hsV28I/AAAAAAAAIJU/Oa_jylHTKak/Skytop%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Then we had to carry them back uphill to the store to pay for them, along with several more varieties, to fill Miss Chef’s annual yen for apples.</p> <p>After lugging a bushel of apples plus two gallons of fresh cider out to the car, we returned empty handed for our reward: hot, fresh apple cider donuts, plush an applelicious slushy.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-8YmQSxAJyEA/VDB67KbcNlI/AAAAAAAAIJc/iAR6uQrJbXY/s1600-h/Skytop%252520%2525285%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Skytop (5)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Skytop (5)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-cjJtzZZCYGk/VDB6701zCHI/AAAAAAAAIJk/GfW_evzwa-0/Skytop%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a> </p> <p>Yum!</p> <p>The road down from the orchard is a steep, torturous drive, but having driven it several times made it easier to maneuver. It also helped that the leaves haven’t turned yet, so I wasn’t distracted by gorgeous fall color. Who knew I’d ever be grateful for missing the date?</p> <p>Our next destination was Asheville itself. We had an hour or so before our lunch reservations at—where else?—<a href="http://www.curatetapasbar.com/" target="_blank">Cúrate</a>. We parked on the street, right next to this fun wall of inspiration.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-tp5UEWe1vCw/VDB68kvBeVI/AAAAAAAAIJs/eip_e75zaUw/s1600-h/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Asheville 10 (1)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Asheville 10 (1)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ivyGswEZh3o/VDB69OL67-I/AAAAAAAAIJ0/H4dM8fYdK_s/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-MKLuB8sS47k/VDB69wnVw2I/AAAAAAAAIJ8/YTHqdso3yl0/s1600-h/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525283%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Asheville 10 (3)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Asheville 10 (3)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-sVFNvumbDDM/VDB6-qb4wRI/AAAAAAAAIKE/YL3BSGyI_No/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>This wall has been here for years, protecting a fall-off between two buildings. Turning it into an artful community conversation exemplifies the character of this city.</p> <p>After lunch it was my turn to visit a new favorite.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-wcKXfTCJTCM/VDB6_PnyFDI/AAAAAAAAIKM/ZVP3Ss54y-w/s1600-h/Asheville%25252010%252520%2525285%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Asheville 10 (5)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Asheville 10 (5)" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5HwHqi0e0BY7sTNAVZ2xZvO9qUbCchuz33X47pa94gMM0pkjhBLMc2d4M0wr7UCXpKCscA3uiqlzjKYoXA_33rS5BH-vz0tRrO00vlRTeFtU_6327CSmhHjRofN0AOo_uHFLVBPnRYvn/?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>My name is Alison, and I am a chocoholic. And I’m very okay with that.</p> <p>The day was on the warm side, so we did a little “housekeeping,” to get a cooler and ice to keep our cider (and chocolate) from melting. After a short break back at the hotel, we returned to Asheville for dinner at <a href="http://www.rhubarbasheville.com/" target="_blank">Rhubarb</a>. We’d been wanting to eat here since seeing their menu go up at their doorway on Pack Square, but they’d been closed the one other time we’d had a gap in our eating schedule. Yes, when we travel, our days are planned around our meals.</p> <p>I didn’t take any photos inside Rhubarb, but here are a couple I found on the web.</p> <p>The entry area, with a simple, gaze-pulling display of wooden spoons.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Z7y8CPQUnHk/VDB7AXfNGHI/AAAAAAAAIKc/XsGMLbH8jro/s1600-h/Rhubarb-Asheville-North-Carolina-700%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="Rhubarb-Asheville-North-Carolina-700" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Rhubarb-Asheville-North-Carolina-700" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Dcn4haDyKeM/VDB7AwdTHWI/AAAAAAAAIKg/8c1XqjezlQQ/Rhubarb-Asheville-North-Carolina-700_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="404"></a></p> <p>The main dining area is through that arched doorway, and this is the area where we were seated.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-CC3bEwVGwlM/VDB7BoEtq-I/AAAAAAAAIKs/w7PVxE5icco/s1600-h/rhubarbinside%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="rhubarbinside" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="rhubarbinside" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-IjmR95oJyjo/VDB7CaZPV2I/AAAAAAAAIK0/3D0Mc4QGtHQ/rhubarbinside_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="404"></a></p> <p>I’m not sure of the story behind that rough wall, but I spent half the night trying to decipher the lettering barely visible in the patchy green paint. All I got was “the.” I think.</p> <p>The food here is much like what we seek out at home—locally grown, creatively combined without too much manipulation. Our two favorites were a rabbit-and-leek rillette served with house-made “sel-tine” crackers, and the “Autumn sharing salad.” A dark green salad with goat cheese and toasted pumpkin seeds was built atop a roasted kabocha squash. Miss Chef discovered this squash a couple of years ago, but we could never remember the name, always confusing it with <em>kombucha</em>, a fermented tea drink she’s brewed in the past. Anyway, Miss Chef liked the salad so much she’s stealing the idea for a farm dinner she’s helping with next month.</p> <p>Stealing is accepted practice among chefs. I think sounds better if you use the words “inspired by.”</p> <p>Friday morning we were up and out of the hotel, headed for home. Miss Chef was anxious to get into the school to rework her menus and recipes—she’d been informed after finishing them earlier in the week that budget cuts meant she had to slash her food costs, a difficult prospect when you’re trying to teach fine cuisine with local product. I stayed at home to unpack and reassure our pets that the world had not ended and they were not to be abandoned.</p> <p>Also to prepare for a big Fancy Party. The local paper I freelance for does an annual Best of Charlotte issue, with both critics’ and readers’ picks for everything from best barber shop to best farm-to-table restaurant. I’d received a mailed invitation to the VIP pre-party, and thought it was a good opportunity to see my editor and meet some of the other staff. You see, I met my editor once at a coffee shop back in May, and everything since then has been via email. I’ve been asked in conversation if I know this editor or that staff writer; people must think I’m dropping off hard copies at the office every week. I don’t even know where their offices are!</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-CZvVFlXSoKg/VDB7DCRdTgI/AAAAAAAAIK8/GAPyN0SVr-Y/s1600-h/nc%252520music%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="nc music" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="nc music" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3-_-ZL_z4Sc/VDB7D8ycoSI/AAAAAAAAILE/MJZ1qgMlzrI/nc%252520music_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="434"></a></p> <p align="center"><em>Somewhere in this entertainment complex north of Uptown sits my editor.</em></p> <p>Anyway, neither Miss Chef or I were looking forward to this gala event. For me, it was mostly because of the cocktail attire. I didn’t even think I had a dress anymore that would fit me, since I’d moved to mostly slacks or skirts at work. Fortunately, I had unburied one in my closet, so felt more or less prepared. But I was still groggy from our quick out-of-town trip, and neither I nor Miss Chef are particularly into small talk over drinks with folks we don’t know.</p> <p>Sadly, the party lived down to and even beneath our expectations. There didn’t seem to be anyone filling the role of host, nor any plan for the event, aside from a few drag numbers that I mostly missed, due to the poor audio from the stage. I was expecting some kind of welcome, an introduction of the judging panel or an awards ceremony, but after the drag queens left the stage, there was nothing to watch but the crowd. </p> <p>Most of the attendees were young, see-and-be-seen professionals that continue to live the college party life after graduation. Miss Chef and I were both surprised not to know anybody there aside from the folks behind a couple of the food tables.The music was far too loud to carry on a conversation, so the idea of mingling and networking was just plain irritating. I had a couple glasses of wine to help ease my irritation, but it was mediocre, and the only food was small bites from three of the nominated restaurants. Yes, the paper’s staff was nowhere to be found, while the honorees were asked to work the event! </p> <p>After an hour of sipping insipid wine and making ourselves hoarse trying to talk over the din, Miss Chef and I absconded for dinner elsewhere. We went a few blocks up Tryon Street to The Wooden Vine, a tapas and wine bar we’ve enjoyed before. I let Miss Chef do most of the ordering.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyyQeaK4svotNHoS2Wo2LS1jlKSuMK6gTKZPGQtk0Lr3oFhZqbMgOsQwmjlL1c06MrNra1ibRIfz4hN_IXrz5I4bFTrknWNiONzZ2AwxCPF6N7XneEA1iHiU3zdSWiyypM7XACceYyffGY/s1600-h/Wooden%252520Vine%25252010%252520%2525282%252529%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="Wooden Vine 10 (2)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Wooden Vine 10 (2)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-KtrWanzxaTY/VDB7Iv8uLfI/AAAAAAAAILU/GcR5IFpdHRQ/Wooden%252520Vine%25252010%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="504" height="285"></a></p> <p>My camera wasn’t focusing any better than my eyes, apparently. At the top, from left to right you see locally-made burrata (seasoned ricotta inside a mozzarella skin), roasted brussels sprouts and braised short rib with hominy corn. On the bottom, roasted potato, and tortellini with house-made ricotta .</p> <p>Chef Nick, whom I recently interviewed for an upcoming “Chef Horror Stories” piece, was working his last weekend prior to leaving to open his own place. He also had a big party in the back of the restaurant, so most of this was not up to his usual level. The tortellini made me very happy, though.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-pI8gjsb2HlU/VDB7JGzvOpI/AAAAAAAAILc/EUeKeeO7jfM/s1600-h/Wooden%252520Vine%25252010%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Wooden Vine 10 (1)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Wooden Vine 10 (1)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-GagUlSXdouk/VDB7J3udo4I/AAAAAAAAILk/lXu33ahqU3c/Wooden%252520Vine%25252010%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>The pea sprouts are from Mindy at Tega Hills. I delivered those pea sprouts here for a couple of weeks, back in June. I love seeing the whole trajectory of food from greenhouse to plate.</p> <p>After dinner we had an easy stroll about 4 blocks to the car. Though small, Charlotte’s downtown area is really charming at night; much more bustling than the dead business blocks I saw growing up near Cleveland, and of course the weather here is much more benign. </p> <p>I stopped to take a couple of pictures. </p> <p>A fountain in front of Capital Grille…</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-mX7q0H7Qg48/VDB7Kfob_MI/AAAAAAAAILs/iPeus0IXmxk/s1600-h/Uptown%25252010%252520%2525285%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Uptown 10 (5)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Uptown 10 (5)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-cbXy7B5mEfI/VDB7LA0HOzI/AAAAAAAAIL0/rHgMfYsNkt8/Uptown%25252010%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>…and the top of the Hearst Tower rising in the mist, where Miss Chef searched to no avail for the Bat Signal.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-F91MK2Qt-EE/VDB7LisoNQI/AAAAAAAAIL8/BR13FyetiHU/s1600-h/Uptown%25252010%252520%2525286%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Uptown 10 (6)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Uptown 10 (6)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-JWQxRrfZTts/VDB7MJcIV2I/AAAAAAAAIME/NWyOaUkuF_0/Uptown%25252010%252520%2525286%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>It had been a long day, and we both had to remind ourselves it was only that morning we’d arrived back from Asheville. I was very happy to crawl into my own bed and lay my head on my own pillow.</p> <p>And while Miss Chef crawled out of bed with the first glow of the morning sun, I stayed put. Yes, this Saturday I skipped the markets entirely.</p> <p>I guess that counts as vacation, right?</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-74693762302148096432014-09-30T10:56:00.001-04:002014-09-30T11:19:03.401-04:00Teasing the cat<p>I admit, McKenna has stolen some attention from Rosie. Not only does she display that entertaining zaniness typical of her species, but she’s just so much more convenient to reach than the poor floorbound dog.</p> <p>One of McKenna’s favorite hangouts is on the back of the couch. Aside from offering an ideal lookout for most household traffic, it’s also super comfy, what with the thick blanket that has now become hers.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-L86HfQFVbVk/VCrEX2E9kJI/AAAAAAAAIHI/81y9sGW_Tj0/s1600-h/McKenna%25252009%252520%2525283%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="McKenna 09 (3)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="McKenna 09 (3)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-FTKw7epiNi8/VCrEYp2YCJI/AAAAAAAAIHM/Eg0c16TTNrc/McKenna%25252009%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>When the cat sits there looking so cozy, with her feet sticking out at odd angles, I can’t help but mess with her.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-2EaDWLgl7Oc/VCrEZAay3nI/AAAAAAAAIHY/Q9fQJYC47Ys/s1600-h/McKenna%25252009%252520%2525285%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="McKenna 09 (5)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="McKenna 09 (5)" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-LnJsjBhnt2g/VCrEaOYQgzI/AAAAAAAAIHg/Jurid67Iw3Q/McKenna%25252009%252520%2525285%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Miss Chef and I were delighted when we realized McKenna’s toe pads were going to stay pink. They’re adorable.</p> <p>For a few seconds, it seemed she was going to fight back…but then she remembered she hadn’t had her second morning nap yet.</p> <div id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:275a648c-32f0-434c-a843-e5382665ca71" class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" style="width: 567px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto"><div id="14e3b3ab-a338-479f-8d07-54ac7327d5f1" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXPzorLCsVk&feature=youtube_gdata_player" target="_new"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-FOEC3nNBdpg/VCrJ5SP1qnI/AAAAAAAAIIs/d6Uh6rrQd8s/video501c15a90d15%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('14e3b3ab-a338-479f-8d07-54ac7327d5f1'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"567\" height=\"318\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/mXPzorLCsVk?hl=en&hd=1\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/mXPzorLCsVk?hl=en&hd=1\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"567\" height=\"318\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" alt=""></a></div></div></div> <p> </p> <p>Don’t worry, she eventually got to sleep in peace. For a little while, anyway.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-W-iAARbFSH0/VCrEcvoFW-I/AAAAAAAAIHw/ak3NWCJmeZo/s1600-h/McKenna%25252009%252520%2525287%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="McKenna 09 (7)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="McKenna 09 (7)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-mevNfdkwxhs/VCrEd1TK7mI/AAAAAAAAIH4/ZgeCSmPVUFc/McKenna%25252009%252520%2525287%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>As for Rosie, now that the cool weather’s rolled in, her favorite napping spot is the cool concrete and street view from the front stoop.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-APyMk-pnF6I/VCrEeSe6tSI/AAAAAAAAIIA/cqfQZglmRVY/s1600-h/Rosie%25252009%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Rosie 09" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Rosie 09" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-t8RtE3H9QoA/VCrEfvCOZ0I/AAAAAAAAIII/gyv-Hvsxs3Y/Rosie%25252009_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Part of the benefit is the nosy cat can’t bother her out here.</p> <p>Or can she?</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-V4WuAKTN-wU/VCrEgVT1G_I/AAAAAAAAIIQ/1B-JPu5p8BE/s1600-h/Pets%25252009%252520%2525283%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="Pets 09 (3)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="Pets 09 (3)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-WGES-UrBimg/VCrEg7bMCwI/AAAAAAAAIIY/he8O2_yY0Rk/Pets%25252009%252520%2525283%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="285" height="504"></a></p> <p>Oh well, at least they each have their own space. Can you imagine a door-to-door salesperson getting past this ferocious menagerie?</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-29500670481771809732014-09-22T13:36:00.001-04:002014-09-22T13:36:43.760-04:00Saturday<p>Most people look forward to the weekend as a time for a little flexibility. Sure, they may have to run kids to soccer games or tae kwon do tournaments, but they can probably skip part of the usual “shit,shower, shave” routine they face Monday through Friday.</p> <p>For me, on the other hand, most weekdays are very fluid. I usually have a deadline on Wednesday, which is often pushed to Thursday. But I make my own schedule, and if my 8 am walk happens more around 9:30, well, Rosie’s the only one who will notice.</p> <p>But on Fridays things start revving up. After getting that week’s blog story up, I suddenly realize (for the 17th time) that I need to figure out next week’s story. So Friday can be a hectic day of brainstorming, a flurry of emails with my editor, maybe some text messages with Miss Chef to figure out who my best sources will be, and a first volley of communications with chefs or farmers I want to interview.</p> <p>This past Friday I was working three stories at once. I called a farmer to ask about growing sorghum and posted a message to Facebook to see if anybody’s using it in their restaurants, emailed a group organizing a farm tour for next weekend, and texted with a couple of chefs to arrange interviews for a late-October story. Shortly after Miss Chef got back from an afternoon meeting, she received a request from another chef to pick up some pig tails for Saturday, so off we headed to the Hispanic stretch of South Boulevard. Naturally we stopped for dinner at a nearby Vietnamese restaurant.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-v1nTsF5q3KA/VCBd5SR4nGI/AAAAAAAAIFA/s3t_03cr42k/s1600-h/IMG_20140919_201554_006%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140919_201554_006" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140919_201554_006" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-lekBExL5ydA/VCBd6WCVj3I/AAAAAAAAIFI/vr2PZTVkklg/IMG_20140919_201554_006_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Trust me, my life sounds way more glamorous than it lives. Not that I’m complaining. We had a grand ol’ time wandering the aisles of a large Compare supermarket, looking at chicken feet and nance fruit, which neither of us had heard of. Date night with a chef.</p> <p>If Friday can sometimes be hectic, it’s because Saturday is by far the busiest day of my week. The farmers markets are part of my workplace, where I have the best and easiest access to farmers, chefs and other food purveyors. It’s also the one day I <em>have</em> to get up and get rolling. While this past Saturday Miss Chef was off to school to gather equipment for a cooking demonstration at Atherton Market, I hit the road before 7:30 to head to our “regular” market in Matthews.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-3fHqjylqbTw/VCBd7ioaloI/AAAAAAAAIFQ/xbSxDQEDxOA/s1600-h/IMG_20140920_091721_473%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140920_091721_473" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140920_091721_473" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Rz1I_nAO6ao/VCBd8RlUh5I/AAAAAAAAIFY/rFzl-E8NnE4/IMG_20140920_091721_473_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I had arranged to meet Chef Adam at 8:30 for an interview, but I had several other folks to talk to. Foremost was Chef Charles, who’s interested in paying for some writing on a new web page he needs for yet another branch of business. Besides selling at two local markets, this Frenchman with a most American taste for entrepreneurship has a catering business which includes bbq and burgers in the guest tents at Panthers’ home games, as well as elegant meals for executive jets flying out of our busy airport. Now he wants to start a side/retirement business traveling to his home on Ile de Ré with groups of eight or ten clients, and squiring them through morning markets and evening cooking sessions.</p> <p>If nothing else, I could learn a thing or two from him about hustling up business.</p> <p>Besides checking in with Charles, I needed to pick up eggs from Daryl of Walnut Ridge Farm, and make sure he’d gotten a print copy of a recent article I’d written about him and another farmer. Then I stopped to see Pauline, the market manager, and follow up on an interview and blog story I’d done earlier in the week. Oh, and I had to deliver those pig tails to Chef Bonaparte, for the catering job Miss Chef was helping him out with that evening.</p> <p>In the midst of all this, Adam sent me a text at 8:30 that he was just getting dressed, so I also chatted for a while with Michele Lamb, who raises goats, and Mindy at Tega Hills, for whom we’d tried to foster a kitten few weeks ago (sadly, the entire litter succumbed, probably to distemper—at least the mother cat seems to be recovering). When Adam finally dragged in, I bought him a coffee and and we spent a good half hour talking about filthy grease traps. Then we were both off to our next round of errands, he to pick up supplies for the restaurant, me to Atherton Market.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUOslyAHFF8Ao5TXFeQmDvaxLJsdt94g2nheglTTEWvdhsBR2eB-srVCVgPDzsOiiJR7oEi0ykcrTb1YI8uzPIvn6rUqaJnij8Wzq2sjUZ3dKKSiFIhE8oYp8mhiIa7OotcFhyphenhyphenVe_1hn0m/s1600-h/IMG_20140920_105012_288%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140920_105012_288" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140920_105012_288" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ujCxp_4mKNQ/VCBd91uYcpI/AAAAAAAAIFk/fAG5ukgt9rQ/IMG_20140920_105012_288_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>As you can tell, this is a very different market, much more urban and a bit more upscale—in the window you can see the reflection of one of the many shiny new apartment complexes going up in this Southend neighborhood to attract the newest generation of Yuppies (what are they called now? Hipsters? Dinks? My friends and colleagues?).</p> <p>Miss Chef and I sort of “joined” this market this year, after I got involved with Friendship Gardens. This is the only place backyard gardeners like myself can drop off donations on the weekends, and somehow I found myself taking charge of the donation station. I also made friends with a new baker at the market, after falling in love with his bread and featuring him in my very first (small) print <a href="http://clclt.com/charlotte/three-questions-with-bill-logan-owner-of-carolina-artisan-bread/Content?oid=3438839" target="_blank">article</a> several months ago. He actually had a few new customers walk up to his booth with my article in hand, so he’s a fan of <em>mine</em> now.</p> <p>This is where Miss Chef had headed from school earlier that morning, for a 10:00 cooking demonstration. When I got there, she’d already started serving up eggplant “pizzas” (small rounds of eggplant coated in breadcrumbs, fried, and topped with veggies) and an apple bread pudding. Unlike the Matthews market, there is no separate area for these demos, but it seemed that plenty of shoppers found her and stopped to have a bite.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ojrxzaoelFY/VCBd-SzUg7I/AAAAAAAAIFw/_BMnQwvcA6Q/s1600-h/IMG_20140920_115204_067%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140920_115204_067" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140920_115204_067" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-DB7JIny6u6k/VCBd_WEnrzI/AAAAAAAAIF4/Fkj6pD-KGRA/IMG_20140920_115204_067_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It just so happens that the donation table is directly across from the cooking station, so we <em>kind of</em> got to hang out together for awhile. I also managed to buy us both a hearty breakfast from the food truck outside (you can only eat so much bread pudding), buy some chicken and fresh pasta, and finalize another interview for that afternoon with another chef.</p> <p>Around noon, Miss Chef wrapped up and headed off to her catering gig, while I continued to text, and chat with the market manager’s husband and dog. I also discovered this interesting product being sold by a farmer I hadn’t met yet.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-OToCuP3BbMc/VCBeAaxucGI/AAAAAAAAIGA/2dqcJ7tG38M/s1600-h/IMG_20140920_133140_178%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140920_133140_178" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140920_133140_178" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-9bIrNqbn-WI/VCBeBJjdHTI/AAAAAAAAIGI/VFsWXZgSWGA/IMG_20140920_133140_178_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>It’s called jelly melon, or African horned cucumber. I snapped this picture because I might be able to use it for another of my weekly blog stories…it kind of depends on how long the sorghum harvest season is, and whether I can fit it all in before they all go out of season.</p> <p>Which reminds me of another phone call I need to make…</p> <p>I had to man the station until 2:00, when the market ends, because that’s when we get most of our farmer donations as they close up shop. Sadly, I only got 1/4 pound of arugula for my troubles, but there’s always next week! I left a few minutes early to grab a cup of coffee for Chef Nick, in exchange for an interview. He mans the kitchen at a restaurant uptown, so I had to circle the block to find on-street parking, since I’d spent almost all my cash at the market. I was lucky to find a spot not far away, and arrived with cappuccino in hand in time for our little chat.</p> <p>It was after 3:00 when I finally turned the car toward home, and I have to confess that the rest of my day was spent mostly on the couch. I’m in a mode of letting the garden fend mostly for itself, but it seems I need to do a little pest control patrol.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-No8uoz1MEDg/VCBeB1mdoRI/AAAAAAAAIGQ/JfypqfOss04/s1600-h/IMG_20140922_104831_022%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140922_104831_022" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140922_104831_022" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-gpQ8QwAKxw4/VCBeC9uGF8I/AAAAAAAAIGY/Zn7HkQUPkRg/IMG_20140922_104831_022_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>I picked a couple of worms off the five broccolis planted in the main bed, and checked that the two remaining brussels sprouts were still doing ok. The third one just <em>poof! </em>disappeared a week or two ago. Not a leaf or stem left. Very odd.</p> <p>The sixth broccoli plant is doing quite well in the raised bed, filling in the planter nicely.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-cfV-VfUJ8SM/VCBeIHYwk0I/AAAAAAAAIGg/VBXo1R2aTSY/s1600-h/IMG_20140922_104805_756%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140922_104805_756" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140922_104805_756" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2XqiTjhvmC4/VCBeI7PalPI/AAAAAAAAIGk/O5yGJjRS4MM/IMG_20140922_104805_756_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="552" height="374"></a></p> <p>The temperatures are starting to cool off, especially in the evenings, so it seems the garden isn’t suffering too much from my benign neglect. Maybe it’s happy I’m finally leaving it alone, though I did bring this little basketful of goodness to Friendship Trays last week.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-nNLFZV-qMwQ/VCBeJvqOUKI/AAAAAAAAIGw/49vUmaPe9Y4/s1600-h/IMG_20140918_130913_476%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_20140918_130913_476" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="IMG_20140918_130913_476" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-agGySARUQhk/VCBeKYBAaYI/AAAAAAAAIG4/tFiTxlMF6J0/IMG_20140918_130913_476_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="604" height="342"></a></p> <p>Yep, still bringing in tomatoes, but I’m looking forward to fall already. As one of the market managers I recently interviewed said, there are two seasons colliding right now, and it’s a great time to eat.</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-43303090698306586492014-09-18T12:04:00.000-04:002014-09-18T12:04:30.563-04:00Apple-tacular<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPeL8B38nlAuuFj3-W4eD845LZ-XizwWRUAJpl2UE5CoOYvgxp7XQGNnguc4ZibQyaSfIc48ZWqPRdUKSJJqLYWlwWKX-QdN_sGlIILEls047V3Yi1cucuFa0kAT-KYqoN19yguk93u3KA/s1600/IMG_20140914_131926_860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPeL8B38nlAuuFj3-W4eD845LZ-XizwWRUAJpl2UE5CoOYvgxp7XQGNnguc4ZibQyaSfIc48ZWqPRdUKSJJqLYWlwWKX-QdN_sGlIILEls047V3Yi1cucuFa0kAT-KYqoN19yguk93u3KA/s1600/IMG_20140914_131926_860.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a><br />
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Miss Chef and I had an...interesting weekend last week. It involved local travel, wine-tasting, antiquing and apple picking. I've written all about it, but you'll have to hop on over to my food blog, <a href="http://amusebouchee.blogspot.com/2014/09/what-i-learned-about-apples.html" target="_blank">Amuse Bouche</a>, to read it.<br />
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Enjoy!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481203733160854169.post-8781411804049005252014-09-11T12:29:00.001-04:002014-09-11T12:29:53.667-04:00Do you *really* remember?<p><em>I re-post this every year out of gratitude for my own blessings, and in sympathy for the thousands still living every day with absence.</em></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-awi-qm1wkMo/VBHN_WbZBKI/AAAAAAAAICg/a0Ut_mh5up8/s1600-h/9-11-world-trade-center-remember%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img title="9-11-world-trade-center-remember" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; display: block; padding-right: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="9-11-world-trade-center-remember" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-9n666TPy-OU/VBHN_7KQRBI/AAAAAAAAICk/R5CJl4OfDFo/9-11-world-trade-center-remember_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="384" height="304"></a></p> <p>I remember clearly that it was a Tuesday. I was living in Mobile, Alabama at the time. Since I had overnight duty at the school where I was working, I had the morning off. I was headed to the gym in my car when I heard the news story. I thought it was a spoof; like an April Fool's joke. Ha ha. It sounded way too "out there" to be real.</p> <p>Planes, crashing into a building in New York City? Please; the likelihood of that level of mechanical and human failure happening in the middle of one of the largest metropolises in the world? Not hardly.</p> <p>I didn't think about the failure of human minds and hearts.</p> <p>At the gym, I was on the elliptical machine watching the news on tv when I saw that it was real. That something was gravely, horribly wrong. I don't remember when the word "terrorist" first scrolled across the screen (do you remember when we still thought it was just an accident?). My first concern was for my uncle Paul, who had worked for NY Bell and had been part of the repair crew on the Towers eight years earlier.</p> <p>But he was long retired; surely he wouldn't be down there.</p> <p>And then a moment of sheer terror: I had completely forgotten that my brother worked there, somewhere in lower Manhattan, not in the Towers, but I didn't know where. As the story spread, the towers collapsed; ash and dust coated the entire area and I finally panicked. I grabbed my water bottle and towel and ran to the car.</p> <p>I had spoken to him two days before, to wish him a happy birthday. Where was he now?</p> <p>How odd; nobody around me seemed moved or concerned. They had no connection to this news story unfolding up there in "the corner." But my dad's family is from New York; we had all visited the Towers one summer when I was ten or twelve. I had been there; I knew what it was like, the sheer enormity of the place.</p> <p>And my brother was in there, near there, somewhere.</p> <p>As I drove home, I called his house in New Jersey. Busy.</p> <p>I called his cell phone. All circuits busy.</p> <p>(Do you remember how the phone lines on the entire east coast were tied up that day?)</p> <p>Tried his home again. Still busy.</p> <p>Tried my parents' down in Georgia. Busy.</p> <p>Finally, I noticed the voice message icon on my cell phone. It was from my father; they had heard from my sister-in-law that my brother was ok. He was trapped in Manhattan (remember how they shut down all car traffic to and from the island?), but he was safe.</p> <p>I called my father back and finally got through. My brother had watched the whole thing from his office in the Traveler's building, two blocks from the World Trade Center. He had been on the phone with my dad, watching the first tower burn, and assuring him that they had been told to stay where they were; everything was fine.</p> <p>Then the second plane hit.</p> <p>My brother told my father, "I've got to go," and hung up the phone. It would be days before they spoke again. </p> <p>After hearing the story, I stopped trying to reach him or his wife that day. I knew there were vastly more important calls that needed to get through.</p> <p>Down in Manhattan, my brother was the recipient of some of the amazing generosity that bloomed that horrific Tuesday. He walked tens of blocks north, and was given shelter by a coworker’s sister's friend, or something like that. It was the only way he was able to call his wife that day. I don't remember how he got home, or when. That day, it was enough to know that he was alive. (Do you remember the confusion; the "Missing" fliers plastered on every vertical surface, pleading for a thousand miracles?)</p> <p>My brother worked for Citigroup at the time, in their International Treasury division. The next several weeks he reported to an emergency backup site in New Jersey, putting in 12 and 14 hour days to ensure that his small part of our financial system remained functional. (It didn't sound all that impressive back then, but after the 2008 financial meltdown, I'm a bit more respectful.)</p> <p>When I finally got to speak to him at length, weeks later, my brother wouldn't talk about it. He wanted to put it behind him and move forward. He had lost colleagues and neighbors. He had watched people leap to their deaths rather than face hell on Earth. That detail was the only one he would go into, and he said it angrily: "You don't understand what it's like."</p> <p>No, he's right. I don't.</p> <p>Less than six months later, in February 2002, I flew up to visit. (Do you remember how air travel was shut down for days, and the bravery it took afterwards, just to board a plane?) My brother drove me into Manhattan, where we visited his office, high above the streets in another glass-fronted tower. From a floor-to-ceiling window we looked two blocks down the street, at the raw wound, a huge square of nothingness. "If they had missed the Towers, our building would have been the next one they hit," he told me matter-of-factly.</p> <p>On September 11th I fly the flag for many reasons, but mostly to commemorate the innocents who lost their lives that day. The ones who were in the wrong building. Who weren't lucky enough to flee, covered in ash, panicked and cut off from their loved ones, but alive. For those who ran in the other direction, into danger.</p> <p>I fly it in the hope that it will keep the memory alive another year. To remind myself of the inconceivable tragedy that still should haunt us. To remind myself to be grateful that I still have a brother, no matter how little we may agree sometimes.</p> <p>My nephew Ethan was born in 2002.</p> <p>My niece Keira was born in 2006.</p> <p>My sister-in-law is not a widow.</p> <p>I know that by the time Ethan's and Keira's children are in school, this will be just another date in history. A bunch of people died. My grand-nieces and nephews will learn the definitions of "isolationism," "nationalism" and the names Bush, Hussein, Al-Qaida, Desert Storm. And it will mean as much to them as Pearl Harbor meant to me growing up.</p> <p>That's the nature of history; as it retreats further into our collective past, it gathers dust, a soft coating that obscures our view. It's inevitable. Over the years, plenty of other, more immediate crises will push our country this way and that. Yet, for the time being, I'm doing my part to keep the memory alive and distinct.</p> <p>I don't know anyone who actually died that day. But my flag, this post, and my tears are for their memory, and for the ones they left behind.</p> <p><img style="float: none; margin-left: auto; display: block; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmjdNJG48CpOWrqZzCgKC8CNI_ufTXGFjDiY1Mg1nkXyTobX5P7lYMPpsqGT2SApkMtRR3hlGsKr-1J28GpeUbqO_I4MXQUkhjSQJyMawCekzSWkZ0pxM0KYaTQuN6d5jf71piOboA-Rl/s400/Eric&Ethan_sml.jpg"></p> <p align="center">Ethan and his dad, July 2008</p> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09081652747471904560noreply@blogger.com6