tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5462298039048015892024-03-20T15:51:41.459-07:00MRS MUCH IS COOKINGA running commentary about my ingredient-driven kitchen adventures, with sidesteps into other matters that all make up a part of Living Well.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-7130862771909203922014-08-03T17:02:00.000-07:002014-08-03T17:02:26.884-07:00POACHED SALMON WITH MUSTARD CREAM <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The inspiration for this dish was a magnificent friend, Manfredi Pio di Savoia, who was born under the sign of Pisces and who loved water, boats, and fish. The first time I made it for his birthday luncheon,was, sadly, the last meal I cooked for him; he passed away in Rome a couple years ago.<br />
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List of ingredients<br />
The Salmon:<br />
one pound of fresh salmon steaks<br />
2 cups each white wine, water<br />
2 bay leaves, tablespoon peppercorns, 1 medium sliced onion<br />
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The Mustard Cream<br />
2 tablespoons gelatin, dissolved in 2 tablespoons water<br />
1 cup cider vinegar<br />
1 cup water<br />
1 cup white sugar<br />
2-3 tablespoons dry mustard<br />
pinch salt<br />
1 cup of whipping cream, whipped<br />
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The Garnish:<br />
2 avocados, sliced<br />
4 hardboiled eggs, sliced<br />
red lettuce leaves<br />
dried parsley<br />
1 olive<br />
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The Sauce<br />
1 cup sour cream<br />
cream horseradish to taste<br />
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Fish mold<br />
kitchen towel<br />
hair dryer<br />
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Method: <b> Read the recipe thoroughly</b>. <b>Do all of your shopping</b>. <b>Plan to make this one day ahead of serving.</b><br />
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<b>Hard boil 4 eggs, chill, remove shells, refrigerate in a container with paper towels on the bottom.</b><br />
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<b>Salmon</b><br />
Simmer the wine, water, bay leaves, peppercorns and onion for 20- 30 minutes in a deep saucepan that has a lid. Add the salmon, poach for 10-12 minutes, turn off heat, add lid and let cool. When you can safely touch the sides of the pan, remove salmon, take off any skin and bones, place pieces on a paper towel. This section can be done 2 days ahead, refrigerate salmon, strain salmon broth and freeze for another poaching or a fish stew. It is very tasty to drink, as is.<br />
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<b>Mustard Cream</b><br />
Place vinegar, water, and sugar in saucepan, add dissolved gelatin and dry mustard, using a spoon to dissolve lumps. Bring to boil over medium heat, strain, again using spoon to work through strainer. Cool completely.Whip the cream, fold into gelatin mixture. At this point you are ready to fill the fish mold with salmon and Mustard Cream. Note: you will have about 2 cups of mustard cream left over. I put it in a smaller mold to use later with another dish. It is very tasty with ham.<br />
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<b>Assembly</b><br />
Spray mold with non stick cooking spray. Ladle in Mustard Cream to cover bottom. The mold has a small support at the tail end which helps steady the uneven bottom. Start laying in pieces of salmon over the Cream, you will have some salmon left for other things. Then cover the salmon with more Cream right up to the edge of the mold. Refrigerate until firm, then cover with plastic wrap.<br />
Prepare sour cream and horseradish by stirring together, place in serving dish with a spoon.<br />
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<b>Day of Serving</b><br />
Remove salmon mold to work surface. Have large oval platter at the ready. Run a knife around the entire edge. Place salmon on the platter. To unmold, I take a kitchen towel and wet it thoroughly with hot water from the faucet, wring out the excess water, and lay over the whole outside of mold. You will need to do this 2 or 3 times. If it is a bit stubborn, I also use a hair dryer, whooshing the hot air over surface of mold, checking constantly to see if the salmon haas been released. Caution! Too much heat and the mold will begin to melt!<br />
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Once out, you can tuck in pieces of the lettuce. Peel and slice the avocados; slice the eggs, place around the outside edges as you will, or as shown in the photograph. Place olive in for the eye. Dust your magnificent dish with dried parsley. Refrigerate until guests are seated and ready for your surprise.<br />
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I served hot buttered homemade olive bread with this recently, and a mixed grain salad (SooFoo, Maurice Kanbar's product.)<br />
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Recipe serves 6 people nicely.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-33941791817889616462013-12-09T12:14:00.001-08:002013-12-09T12:14:21.778-08:00Soweto, South Africa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">South Africa Part 3</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">by Dianne Boate</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Soweto</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The temperature had dropped down from the high 90’s, so we didn’t get the full benefit of South African summer weather in a shack made of corrugated iron, boasting one door and one small window that remained open only during daylight hours, never at night.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If you took three closet doors and laid them down in a U shape this would approximate the shape of this particular shack and tell you something of its size. It was very dark inside and smelled of kerosene. I sat with Robert, my traveling companion, and our hostess, around a small round table. With the U shape configuration, Robert was in the bedroom, I was in the living room and she was in the kitchen. Stacked mattresses with blankets and clothes strewn on them, piles of boxes with pots and pans and dishes, and a big stove that was no longer working was our view inside. Right in front of me on the table was an old sewing machine with a foot pedal to operate it. Good thing, because there is no electricity and no running water, either. A wood or coal burning stove that does not work any more doesn’t make sense to me, but this is why we sat gagging on the stale kerosene air. Kerosene was fuel for the cooking unit on top of the stove.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There was a pull between good manners and self preservation, with the former winning, as we talked with the occupant, a single woman grandparent. Her name is Ivy. She is a large lady with a broad kindly face. A beige crochet hat with some stitches unraveled sat upon her head in spite of the heat. She was proud of herself because she could speak to us in English. She is surrounded by literally thousands of neighbors whose language she does not always understand. If you could start from where I was seated and zoom up to the 10th degree and take a photograph you could understand my panic. There are 4 million people in the South Western Township called SoWeTo and we were smack dab in the middle somewhere. As we talked, woman to woman, brown eyes meeting blue eyes sincerely, we learned about each other’s lives. She tries to earn money with sewing, raise a grandchild, and stay out of the way of things that happen in the night. I told her about the homeless living on city streets so she would know we have bad conditions to take care of, too. There is a big difference between empathy and pity but these got very mixed up. It upset me to know that I would walk out of there and go take a swim in a pool that was larger than her house and she had to stay there. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We were down to the last three days of our trip, houseguests in a suburb of Johannesburg. Our hostess suggested this tour and made the arrangements. The township tours are new. According to Jurgen Wessels, the local people saw a tourism opportunity, and I ask you, Why Not? It puts money into an area where the effects of unemployment would make you cry. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our guide lives in Soweto and took us to his house. This was more of a real house with real rooms. In being introduced to his mother, named Tiny, she took one look at me and exclaimed “Why I just love you!” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Imagine: On one street of this infamous township, two nobel Peace Prize winners lived: Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu. Nelson Mandela’s house is now a museum. Stepping inside, moving quickly because there were 15 French people behind me. I wanted the experience to myself. Mr. Mandela left something of himself in that house. Faith, hope, despair and dreams are lodged in the walls, coming out in the atmosphere letting their presence be known. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Finally we visited an area where some very rich locals have built themselves houses that are testimonies to their success. As my father would say, “Everything is different and nothing is changed.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It was getting late. Our guide needed to be back at home before dark. Dark is dangerous. He scrawled his name and address for me and then wrote, “It will be my pleasure to receive a book on American History. Thanks.”</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-51738388407056039272012-12-10T18:09:00.000-08:002012-12-10T18:09:22.622-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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WHAT IS IT WITH ME AND BAKING?</h2>
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Some thoughts on a wintery day that was spent baking - again</div>
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A few years ago I discovered a whole part of my father's family from Indiana, Pennsylvania, that I never heard about. Of particular interest here is one cousin, probably two times removed, who was very rich and went on hunting trips, - finding, shooting and presenting to the Smithsonian Museum the largest tiger ever found in India. He also commissioned another relative to write the family history, and that is how I found out that in the late 1800s one of my relatives turned to opening a baking business when there seemed to be no solution to family financial problems. Aha, one clue.</div>
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Then thinking back to when I was three years old, I tasted a piece of warm cake, and believe me, I never forgot it. Another clue.</div>
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Up to fifteen years old there was my great grandmother's baking of bread, pies, some cakes, cookies and something really terrific that was a Cottage Pudding with peaches on the bottom and lemon sauce over the top. In the neighborhood of Elk River where we all lived, another woman was absolutely famous for her Angel Food Cakes topped with Seven Minute Icing. This young lady took note.</div>
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There are a number of stories and good baking adventures between that and now, 2012, but just today as I sat down with one of my favorite cookbooks, "Heavenly Cakes," by my friend, Rose Levy Beranbaum. I thumbed through the pages looking for some specifics for my baking enterprise today, and found all manner of things I have not made yet, and realized with a bit of good glee, that what I would really like doing than anything, is to bake them.</div>
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You get to a certain point of life where you set your preferences and live accordingly. I have a tendency to work on all the things that have been "on my list" for a long time, so what I can do is highly eclectic, but today, all over again, my first love is baking. I can read a recipe and practically taste it. I can make up recipes. I can sail into the kitchen and start hauling out things and pretty soon, golden loaves or cakes are coming out of the oven.</div>
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But it is still not the point: My passion for baking lies in improving what I know, enlarging upon it, inventing with it, and most of all, making something I never made before. That is the jewel in the baking crown of activity for me. I am very happy every morning spending some time sorting out my food files...and of course, there are a lot of unmade cakes there. </div>
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I know some people do not like to make food, but the kitchen is a magnet for me, where I can think clearly, pay attention, invent, and produce some good stuff generally, that will be giving pleasure to a lot of others.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-47267993890368501552012-12-10T18:05:00.000-08:002012-12-10T18:05:00.679-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-11535281380078743472012-11-02T18:01:00.003-07:002012-11-02T18:01:34.381-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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VERY SUPERIOR CARROT RAISIN SALAD</h2>
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<i>The Kitchen Orchestra Creates a New Tune</i></div>
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What, you may ask, is The Kitchen Orchestra? The Orchestra is everything in your kitchen, crying out, cajoling, imploring, seducing you with the myriad possibilities that rest with the wave of your conducting baton. And what makes a good conductor? <i> Listening and paying attention. </i>In my kitchen, listening to ingredients on hand is what produces unusual dishes and meals. How do you listen? You listen to your imagination. You pay attention to what you have on hand and learn every day how to salvage bits and parts, turning scraps into a concerto of flavors.</div>
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This Carrot Raisin salad began with an almost finished jar of Dijon mustard. After scooping out about 3 tablespoons into a container, there was still a lot left. Aha! A little olive oil and vinegar was poured into the jar: Extra mustard flavor vinaigrette, strong, but good.</div>
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Next, a phone call: Could I provide snacks for art class? Weary of fiddle -faddle-fat-laced goods, decided on a salad, using carrots and celery already purchased. Midway through the food processor grating operation, remembered fresh ginger and garlic on hand, out it came, in it went.<br />
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Several steps later, the salad was dressed with the Mustard Vinaigrette, some raisins and Mandarin oranges added to settle in for an overnight in the refrigerator.<br />
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Problem of what to serve it in solved easily - the bottom of my large salad spinner. Finishing was tucking in fresh spinach leaves, then topped with two diced avocados (a little lemon juice, please) and finely chop-chop-chop green onions and Italian parsley.<br />
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The recipe follows with certain notes, understanding first that this is a conceptual idea I made up as I went along, easily adapted to your own tastes.<br />
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VERY SUPERIOR CARROT RAISIN SALAD</div>
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8-9 large carrots, washed, ends cut off, then cut in 2 to 3- inch pieces for the food processor<br />
4-5 stalks celery, leafy sections cut off (picture following), peeled with vegetable peeler, cut in 2 to 3 -inch pieces.<br />
4 - 6 large cloves peeled garlic*<br />
2 to 3-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled*<br />
1 cup raisins<br />
1 can drained Mandarin Oranges<br />
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Dressing<br />
about 2-3 tablespoons dijon mustard<br />
1/4 - 1/3 cup good olive oil<br />
seasoned rice wine vinegar to taste, start with a couple tablespoons<br />
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Topping and finishing<br />
Several large fresh spinach leaves<br />
2 avocados, peeled and diced<br />
3-4 scallions and several springs Italian parsley, finely chopped<br />
1/2 lemon and ground pepper<br />
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Using fine grating disk, process carrots, celery, garlic, ginger. <br />
(* Garlic and ginger are best processed in a small processor or cut finely by hand, something I found out later .)<br />
Place in arge bowl, add raisins and Mandarin oranges. Add dressing, toss lightly cover and refrigerate several hours or overnight. (Don't worry about this if you just can't wait...)<br />
Place salad in appointed container, tuck in spinach leaves around the edges, place avocado on top with scallions and parsley, squeeze lemon juice over the avocados and dust with ground pepper.<br />
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Notes: <br />
There is no salt in this recipe and it is not needed.<br />
Garlic and ginger add a big surprise.<br />
Mustard vinaigrette adds more surprise - usually mayonnaise or sour cream is main part of dressing.<br />
Avocado adds lush luxury.<br />
Raisins balance the vinegar.<br />
If you Really wanted to add a splurge...sour cream and toasted pecans on top of everything.<br />
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The applause of guests came in gusts as one by one they came back for 2nd and 3rd helpings. The concert hall is silent. The Conductor, wisely setting aside a small dish for herself, now contemplates the remains of the celery and nubs of the carrots and ginger left behind, certain to be thrown in some pot soon, thanking shining lucky stars for another successful foray into the "What if...?" You can go Where No One Has Gone Before right in your own kitchen.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-71099542409520960792012-10-22T14:17:00.001-07:002012-10-22T14:17:48.135-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
THRIVING ON UNUSUAL RECIPES<br />
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Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix Crepes; Graham Cracker Crepes;<br />
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I made these new recipes because they were intriguing. A lot of what goes on in my kitchen has to do with wanting to know how things work together. (The same principal goes on in my Sewing Room.)I spent much time and effort on crepe making years ago; truly, have just forgotten about making them until.......well, there is a back story about how I got the recipes. <br />
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Shall I tell that first? Yes: The San Francisco Public Library Sale this September was taking place just after I returned from France. I call it a Dangerous Place, but there i am every years,doing it again.<br />
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I do have some easy rules.<br />
1: Being specific about what I am looking for<br />
..........at this time, things French, certain cookbook authors, knitting<br />
2: Allowing random perusal<br />
..........found two more Ladies No1 Detective Agency books in paperback section<br />
3: Go back twice<br />
..........lots of new books added and if it's the last day, everything is $1.<br />
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This is how I get the good stuff. Of about 40 books this time, I found a 1974 book on crepe making never seen before. Inside, dazzling recipes for all manner of crepes. The first two with instant appeal were the Graham Cracker and the Jiffy Corn Muffin mix crepes. They both needed some adjustments of pan used, salt, vanilla. Now these recipes can provide you with your own cooking holiday from the things you usually make. Here we go!<br />
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<b>Jiffy Corn Muffin mix Crepes</b><br />
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<i>About the skillet: I do not have a crepe making skillet so I first selected my omelet making pan which measures 6 inches across. With melted butter in the pan, all my omelets have always come right out of the pan beautifully. This skillet did not like my crepe batter. I tried olive oil then canola oil spray and everything stuck. I moved on to my 10 inch sauté pan with a light spray of the canola oil, and everything was non stick sailing after that. The pictures that follow are shown with this pan; you may need to do the same kind of experimenting.</i><br />
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1 box Jiffy Corn Muffin mix (8.50oz (240g)<br />
3 eggs<br />
2 tablespoons melted butter<br />
1 1/2 cups milk<br />
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The first step is to combine all ingredients. You may use a mixing bowl with beater, or a blender. Batter needs to be very smooth. Cover and refrigerate at least one hour. My batter sat for 2 days without harm. When ready to cook, heat skillet, spray, use a 1/4 cup measure, pour batter into pan and with your left hand use the handle to rotate the batter in the skillet. When the bubbles have died down and you see the edges getting crisp, about 50 - 60 seconds, time to turn. - you can carefully use a spatula, or lift the edges facing you with a knife, and pick up the crepe with your fingers and flip it over, cooking 10 - 20 seconds, remove and place on a wire rack. <b>Be sure to stir this batter each time</b>.Continue until all batter is used - this will yield 15 - 20 crepes and will take you about 1 hour to make them. After they cooled, I layered them between waxed papers, stored in a plastic freezer bag, labeled, and froze. (Not before I did some quality control tasting.)<br />
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Serving: Crepes are a canvas for a galaxy of fillings and spreads, savory or sweet. These crepes and the recipe that follows are on the sweet side and are delicious with a dusting of powdered sugar and lemon juice, or, a dollop of a good jam, chutney, lemon curd, and so on. It is unlimited! Thaw at room temperature; heat in foil if desired. A cold Corn Muffin crepe with a little fresh avocado and sour cream was the best as an appetizer!<br />
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<b>Graham Cracker Crepe Batter</b><br />
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4 eggs<br />
1 cup all purpose flour<br />
1/4 teaspoon salt<br />
1 cup finely crushed graham crackers ( I used 1 package - 5.2 oz)<br />
2 cups milk<br />
1/4 cup melted butter<br />
1 teaspoon vanilla<br />
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I made this batter in a blender. Refrigerate one hour. It also needs to be stirred before each crepe goes into the pan. Yield about 25 crepes. It is just slightly sweet, wonderful with lemon juice and sugar. And I tried it with a little butter and peanut butter and a small piece of banana, most satisfactory. Please do not feel discouraged if the first crepe or two are difficult to manage...You will get the hang of it, and soon, will be like you've done it all of your life.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-78474692884523402642012-10-15T13:49:00.001-07:002012-10-15T13:49:43.559-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dairy Queen For a Day<br />
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In my kitchen kingdom most dairy products are there to be used in specific baking recipes. Events of the day and one's time does intrude on some plans. Here I was this week with extra whole milk and Half and Half, and determined to use it before it went "off." Sauces and soups were written off because of poor freezing capabilities.....no puddings or soufflés for just myself in the house, and so I turned to my silent servants for answers. They were very happy to leave their bookcase houses and be strewn happily on the table and floor and handled with loving care.<br />
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This is an activity I really love. With a hot cup of coffee at hand, sun streaming through the window, and the morning to do as I please, going through my cookbooks is pure pleasure. Occasionally ShahayCat is perched quite close on the arm of the chair though his new place is a narrow basket.<br />
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I looked up everything could find on Ice Cream, the most probable thing to make, keeping in mind the heated discussions I have had with a doctor friend who specializes in ice cream but decries sugar, eggs and cream. (What kind of ice cream is t h a t?)<br />
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My answers came from Deborah Madison's "Local Flavors," with Honey Ice Cream - milk, sugar, egg yolks, light cream. Done. Delicious.<br />
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Next, a discovery in a very old book for Blueberry Ice Cream. Very straightforward with a puree of cooked blueberries with sugar, and light cream. What, no blueberries? Not to worry with a big stash of blackberries in the freezer. Midway through the ice cream maker process I stepped off the kitchen curb again, and plopped more whole blackberries in, then juicy chunks of banana. (Once I made a really remarkable jam with things on hand that I called AAMB Jam - Apple, apricot, mango, banana.)<br />
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It is easy to get in a panic when you want to make a recipe and find you are lacking an ingredient or two......it is easier to just think of something else to use and create your own glorious new food. The more you cook, the more you will discover how rewarding this is. I M A G I N A T I O N.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-43284708264468511792012-10-11T13:01:00.000-07:002012-10-11T13:01:25.570-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Tomato Fever and More<br />
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There is not a lot left of 85 pounds of local tomatoes from the corner produce market, mainly because I discovered making juice was easier than making tomato sauce and I am drinking it; what sauce I did make is in the freezer, but most of the juice was consumed for its terrific flavor, vitamins, and natural goodness without anything being added to it. Very simple. Very inexpensive. had noticed the tomatoes for sale were really getting ripe, so, wearing one of my hats that give me a lot of extra confidence, I approached the owner and offered to buy the overripe tomatoes for a lesser cost. Yes. $.29 a pound, irresistible.<br />
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The oddest part of the process happened when I loaded a big pot with tomatoes, added some water, then went off for an hour or so at the computer and completely forgot the tomatoes. Going back into the kitchen, the scorched smell was evident, but all was not lost. The burning caramelized the tomatoes and left a rich taste in the final product - a very amazing juice, accomplished after running the tomatoes and liquid through a food mill, then a strainer.<br />
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If you make the juice, you can always make other things with it. One of my favorite soup-starter combinations is equal parts beet juice, tomato juice and homemade chicken broth. Wonderful without anything else added.<br />
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Here is a quick chicken broth, after a roast chicken buying trip to Costco: Save all the "good", skin, and bones from 2 Costco roast chickens, freeze all until you are ready. Place everything in a good sized pot, cover with water, just. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 30 - 40 minutes. Let cool, strain broth *and put in refrigerator until fat solidifies on the top, which you can then remove with a slotted spoon, and go about pouring broth into containers for the freezer, and please, take the time to label and date. in San Francisco the Packaging Store has a 3M freezer tape that is wonderful.<br />
*Don't forget to look for some choice chicken morsels among the bones.<br />
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Coming soon, using extra milk and cream.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-49003624506819594552009-03-25T13:36:00.000-07:002009-03-25T13:57:59.366-07:00WHY I AM RICHI -don't need to spend money every day.<div> -have many additions with few subtractions in friends.</div><div> -sign all incoming and outgoing checks with "Thank You" after my name.</div><div> -rarely use a credit card.</div><div> -let go of what I did yesterday.</div><div> -use my good sterling silver every day.</div><div> -don't organize my life according to news reports.</div><div> -cook purchased perishables before they spoil.</div><div> -don't watch television.</div><div> -don't go to malls.</div><div> -earn a year's free movies by baking a big cake once a year.</div><div> -know how to make all of my own clothes, and do.</div><div> -make good soup from scraps.</div><div> -walk to all my neighborhood destinations.</div><div> -love a lot of good people.</div><div> -can make a fine lunch almost every day from contents of refrigerator.</div><div> -gave up smoking 30 years ago.</div><div> -buy very little for myself.</div><div> -practice listening.</div><div> -think through gift items I can make,</div><div> -keep a year round birthday book.</div><div> -surprise someone every day.</div><div> -use a pre-paid calling card for long distance.</div><div> -save dimes; they grow into fat packages that buy quarters for the laundry.</div><div> -write in a daily journal to sort out difficulties.</div><div> -eat half a restaurant meal; the other half goes home.</div><div> -use a marker pen to date staples and any expensive items such as skin care products.</div><div> -have a thankful heart.</div><div> -practice discerning the differences between "very good" and EXCELLENT.</div><div> -have an attitude, in Charles Fillmore's words of "Alive, alert, awake, joyous and enthusiastic about life, in spite of losing my only 2 sons to AIDS. </div><div> -believe, absolutely what Browning had to say.."The best is yet to be, the last for which the first was made."</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> -</div><div> </div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-11319392692993483112009-02-26T13:19:00.000-08:002009-02-26T13:30:15.668-08:00DINNER OUTIt was said that the lady drinks 4 bottles of wine a day, and it has to be purchased every day, not ahead, because she would drink it, if it was there. I heard her say, after she took a sip, "It's good for the pain."<div><br /></div><div>I hardly recognized her - just the faintest vestige of the once striking and vibrant woman, now blowsy, with watery eyes that spent the night studying me. It was hard to look at her as I was rambling on telling stories about piano playing- the childhood of lessons, concerts with 6 pianos playing together, and playing 27 pages of Haydn Sonatas every day as an adult. I tried to keep the kindest smile for her on my face to hide my distress.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the end, she was taken home by her husband at 10 PM, all of us still waiting for our dinner orders to be taken at the restaurant, and he left with her, muttering about hunger, looking definitely downtrodden.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for myself, a good lesson in paying attention to the inner voice that told me to stay home in the first place.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-33144199120145800342009-02-26T12:57:00.000-08:002009-02-26T13:01:25.006-08:00The Cake Lady Makes a PieA recent conversation about cakes and Pie brought forward a good pie making memory: The Ritz Cracker box used to have a recipe for Mock Apple Pie, using the crackers, lemon, sugar and water to achieve this result.<div><br /></div><div>I have always favored odd recipes and was very excited to get going with it. It was in the oven about 15 minutes when I re-read the recipe and discovered had forgotten to add the water. No problem! I grabbed a bottle of gin and poured into the pie. Gin Pie! Delicious! Why Not?</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-85570786186113488432009-01-15T10:11:00.000-08:002009-02-26T13:18:57.001-08:00HOW DO YOU FIND THE TIME?This is a loaded question, don't you think? We do not "find" time, we make time for the things we care about.<div><br /></div><div>Some of you know I am a proponent of "The Fifteen Minute Method" in which you work 15 minutes a day on something you are trying to finish, to accomplish, to get rid of, or dying to start, and so forth. You can think, 15 minutes out of 24 hours is not going to kill you. You can exercise for 15 minutes, study something for 15 minutes, not a big deal. This works.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I write, one of my kitchens is being torn apart. Preparation for this event threw a big monkey wrench into my daily routine, and of course, frustrations set in because my time was consumed by packing up, cleaning and throwing out (not a bad idea) and the rest of my ongoing activities were sliding by, undone, unpracticed, unfinished.</div><div><br /></div><div>I rethought my Fifteen Minute Method considering the current circumstances by choosing 4 activities that are important to me and assigning <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">30 minutes </span>a day to each one. Then I made a grid of 4 blocks to fill in as I completed each 30 minutes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here are the activities, listed not in order of importance. They are all important to my daily life, my sense of well being, my sense of self. Piano Practice; Writing; Drawing; Exercise. You can see that there is nothing about cleaning house or making money or using Facebook or shopping for groceries.</div><div>This first week was a revelation. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-34326904066157618192009-01-07T12:59:00.000-08:002009-01-08T09:11:24.283-08:00DORA AND THE ITALIANSI have always had Russian neighbors in this San Francisco Richmond District apartment building. Many comings and goings of very interesting people, like the White Russian couple, each born in China, reuniting and marrying in San Francisco. Then there was the guy who liked to shove his furniture out the window to the sidewalk below as a more expedient method of moving things. He also painted the interior of his apartment a hideous shade of pink. Oh My. Then there was Dora, who made Italian style cookies.<div><br /></div><div>The Russian population eventually settled down to 2 couples, Dora and her husband, living directly above, and Rosa and her husband, living on 3rd floor. I don't know how it started, but the women and I began exchanging food with each other.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Rosa is still famous for her piroshki, which she brings down periodically steaming hot. Dora was famous for her cookies, which resembled biscotti. The first bite was instant love; being rather relentless about acquiring recipes of tasty foods, I started to organize a kitchen meeting with Dora, to learn how to make them, and Rosa as the translator, for Dora spoke no English. The trick was getting them here at the same time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dates were made and broken for about 2 years. Then suddenly without warning, Dora appeared at my door, ready to make cookies. No Rosa. I quickly calculated that I probably had the ingredients on hand, and somehow we could manage. Next, I got out flour, butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, salt, and a big bowl, measuring cups and spoons. Dora would indicate how much of each item; I made a stab at measuring, and wrote down quickly on a torn up piece of paper. </div><div><br /></div><div>We made the dough, formed the logs, baked, cut, re-baked. Same delicious stuff. Was I happy!</div><div>We did it! Kisses and hugs and smiles all around. And cookies.</div><div><br /></div><div>A couple years later, Dora left us for the Heavens, and I organized the neighbors to go to the funeral at the Jewish Funeral Home on Divisadero. Banks and banks of flowers, Russian style! (We saw this in Leningrad, whole bodies banked in flowers.) Dora's son,, Isaac, invited us to the apartment for refreshments afterward. Upstairs, lots of people, a regular feast of Russian food laid out, along with strong drink. It was very noisy and animated. I started to remember the cookie episode and thought the relatives might like to hear about this.. In a booming voice the son drowned out everyone, telling them to listen to my story.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so I told them the whole thing, adding at the end, that I never understood why Dora, from the Ukraine, made this particular kind of cookie. </div><div><br /></div><div>A woman spoke up, maybe her daughter-in-law: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Oh, didn't you know? Dora was a prisoner of war in a concentration camp, guarded by Italians. She learned it from the Italians! And she promised me the recipe but I never got it."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"I have the recipe," I said, and raced downstairs to my computer and within minutes handed it to this woman.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-51959558963605383482009-01-06T13:47:00.000-08:002009-01-06T19:01:23.561-08:00Last Visit with MFK FisherIt was a dark and stormy night, 1991. A ridiculous night to drive from San Francisco to Glen Ellen, just before Christmas. But the invitation was plain, and imperative; MFK Fisher had asked us to come for supper. This was something one did not turn down. MFK Fisher was the front runner of food writers for years, a national treasure, my friend, and she was dying.<div><br /></div><div>We arrived at the house on time. All was dark. Did I make a mistake? No, a girl named Terra opened the door and welcomed us . Was there a fire in the fireplace? No. Was the table set? No. Again, did I make a mistake? We had a bottle of wine with us, soon opened, and we drank in the dark room. "She'll be able to see you soon," Terra said. This would be in her bedroom up a few stairs past the bookshelves filled with French titles.( Did you know she did a translation of Brillat-Savarin's famous book?) With the wind howling outside and it being very dark, I had a sensation of being in a very large castle somewhere near the bottom floor.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime the room began to come to life. A fire was lit (or turned on to resemble fire, I can't remember) and Terra set the table for two. "After you eat, she will see you," Terra said. Out came homemade bread and butter, a small pate, some cheeses, and a Cornish Game hen that had been split neatly in two, revealing glistening fruit that was the stuffing. Dessert was a small terrine of wild rice pudding. Of course, all of this food had been brought in by friends and neighbors, as was the custom. We lingered over the wine, and finally I was summoned to go to her.</div><div><br /></div><div>A real hospital bed had been brought in for her, but it was a shock to see her lying in it. She smiled brightly and made murmuring noises, then saying once again, "I want to ask you everything and I can ask you nothing,"; I had heard this many times. She motioned for me to go to a small box on her dresser that had very small silvery balls. She took them in her hands, waved me down close to her, and shook the balls. The most incredible music was coming from them, tinkling merriment. Her eyes sparkled as she listened. I knew it was already time to go. I had a feeling of finality about this , but I smiled and held her hands and told her I loved her, saying goodbye without saying it.</div><div><br /></div><div>We said thank you to Terra, and stepped out into the cold. Impulsively I turned back, tearing a beautiful scarf of golds and purples purchased in St. Maarten, from my neck, handing it to Terra to give to Mary Francis: I knew she loved purple. Then we drove back to San Francisco with the shades of winter hounding us all the way, but I was possessed with a glow that only a loving effort can create, born in the heart to stay forever.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-26361786630350675722009-01-06T10:10:00.000-08:002009-01-06T10:15:49.953-08:00A Good ExcuseThe promised stories will appear directly; there has been a 3 week interval of computer shutdown. I used the time to do some new knitting and baking and getting ready for the installation of new kitchen cabinets, countertop and sink. We also had a flood and big problems with the heat. This is reminding me of a comment by an old friend whose name was Coral. She told me she was late one day to pick up her mother. As soon as mother got into the car, Coral started on a stream of excuses. Mother said, " My Dear, if you have a good excuse, one is enough."<div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-68378375742400051762008-12-14T15:36:00.000-08:002008-12-14T15:39:26.515-08:00Coming Soon!!!Why I am Rich<div><br /></div><div>Dora and The Italians</div><div><br /></div><div>Published story in San Francisco Chronicle</div><div><br /></div><div>Christmas With M F K Fisher</div><div><br /></div><div>Icelandic Tales</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-26600281178896430182008-12-14T12:37:00.000-08:002008-12-14T12:40:15.938-08:00Rose Levy Beranbaum's new cookbookPlease note edit on Cookbooks part 2 posted December 11, 2008.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-77723738324927425542008-12-11T09:44:00.000-08:002008-12-14T12:37:38.602-08:00Cookbooks in The Kitchen of What's Happening nowpart 2: Royal Icing, Mousseline Buttercream, Savarin, Chocolate Domingo Cake, Lemon Curd, are all favorite recipes from Rose Levy Beranbaum's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Cake Bible, </span>that I have made over and over and over because they are the best of their kind. It's nice to make things that you do not get tired of. Maybe that is why some people give up!<div><br /></div><div>Rose is a researcher, scientist, artist, and cookbook author who talks directly to you. She has worked out all the problems. We became friends because of a letter I wrote to her about 15 years ago. She claims in her book that the Mousseline Buttercream frosting will hold up in very hot weather. I trusted that, and staged a very successful wedding cake at Sequoia Grove Winery in very hot weather. I sent her the pictures with the letter; in 2 days she called me from New York and we talked for an hour, and have been great friends ever since. </div><div><br /></div><div>When she comes to San Francisco there is always some amazing food adventure afoot. Daniel Patterson's (Coi Restaurant)wedding cake, dinner with Marion Cunningham, The Tasting Menu at The French Laundry, a tented first class 3 course dinner with Jamie Oliver in the pouring rain, an all day excursion to visit the Della Fattoria bread company in Petaluma, and more!</div><div><br /></div><div>I told her I was on tippytoes waiting for the new<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> book </span>due out in September 2009. It will be very interesting to see how she views now, what is important in cake making, cake baking. Rose states,"..<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 12px; ">this new book is all the things that i've evolved since the cake bible (it will be 21 years!) but the cake bible still stands--almost everything is new including that delightful cradle cake!"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 12px; "> </span></div><div><br /></div><div>We discovered along the way, a mutual passion for dress design, knitting, and crochet, actually fanatical would be the best word. It's almost <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">f</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">olie a deux.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-47713852901833290262008-12-06T19:20:00.000-08:002008-12-06T19:58:35.578-08:00Cookbooks in the Kitchen of What's Happening NowPart 1: The San Francisco Chronicle food staff listed their all time favorite cookbooks recently. Two of my favorites were on their lists: Deborah Madison's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Vegetarian Cookery for Everyone</span>; Rose Levy Beranbaum's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Cake Bible.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">D</span>eborah's book was published in 1997; I purchased it 10 years ago. It has been so used that it is falling apart. Her tone in the book is the ever present teacher wanting to share everything she knows about cookery in the plainest way possible. Her explanations and descriptions make sense and are easy to understand. The best part has been plunging in on faith, and coming up with some spectacular dishes. She gives you great combinations for flavor and texture. Her section of pancakes and waffles is one of the best. I have made just about all of them.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A year ago I started buying organic produce from Mariquita Farms and was faced with a bevy of unfamiliar goods. Deborah to the rescue! Now, tatsoi (baby bok choy), mustard greens, Italian parsley have made it to growing in pots on the rooftop garden....things I never ate before. I do enjoy a good piece of beef, chicken, pork, fish, but the day to day cooking is continual experimentation with vegetables. Grated raw beet salad! Shredded brussels sprouts with horseradish! Wild Rice gratin!<br /><div><br /></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-8882596556247840622008-11-30T11:46:00.000-08:002008-11-30T12:06:11.684-08:00The KITCHEN OF WHAT's HAPPENING NOWA good deal of what is created in my kitchen depends on ingredients that are available in the refrigerator, the freezer, or on the shelves. <div><br /></div><div>A current project - today!- of creating Fresh Lime Curd is coming from a generous gift of fresh frozen lime juice from Ron Hildebrand and Syndi Seid when they had to leave their Nob Hill digs, and that included the lime trees in one of the most wonderful open space gardens on Nob Hill.</div><div><br /></div><div>I found out the other day, that multiplying a recipe correctly, gave me 11 cups of lime curd, promptly stashed in Mason jars. I am creating a festive, frothy wire edge ribbon decoration for the jars, which will be on sale at the annual Holiday Showcase, sponsored by my gang, The Professional Women's Network, taking place every year in one of the banquet rooms at Marine's Memorial. This Friday, Dec. 5, 2008.</div><div><br /></div><div>While the jars are boiling, I will get out the last of my stash of pureed applesauce from the freezer and make Spicy Oven Roasted Apple Butter, for the same event. The name comes from figuring out a turkey roaster in the oven can do twice the job than making apple butter in pan on top the stove. You do get a more subtle flavor when things are roasted, even Apple Butter.</div><div><br /></div><div>Next, I found a good-sounding recipe in the newspaper for Pumpkin Butter, made with maple syrup. Irresistible. I will let you know.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-56326759148850907652008-11-26T09:03:00.000-08:002008-11-26T09:16:08.914-08:00Dianne FeinsteinI have always been a rare bird when it comes to television, but the events of 30 years ago in San Francisco with the tragic shootings kept me watching my little screen. An announcement was about to be made, a woman appeared, spoke so movingly about what had happened. I was looking and looking at her face, listening to her voice, trying to understand why she looked so familiar. It was not anything recent, it was in the past.<div><br /></div><div>It took a day to sort it out. </div><div><br /></div><div>I attended a Catholic convent school for 10 years in Eureka, California. the last year some of us were selected to travel to San Francisco for a big Catholic school conference (my selection was interesting because I was one of 2 in the whole school, not a Catholic.) Part of our activities was a visit to Sacred Heart Convent school on Broadway. We were ushered in, then up stairs to sit in, late, on a school production, all done in costumes. As we sat down in the dark, a young woman in blue satin breeches and delivering an impassioned speech. She was riveting! I think I sat there and memorized her face because, years later on the television screen, it was one and the same person, Dianne Goldman Feinstein.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did have occasion when she was mayor to tell her this story.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-45126772970107602852008-11-24T15:20:00.000-08:002008-11-24T15:30:58.148-08:00Behind The Scenes at the Wedding<div> F<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; ">riend, Sherial, hosted the wedding reception and dinner in her penthouse for her niece, Rachel. Just about all of her family from Mississippi came for the wedding events.</span><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; "><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Godson, Mark, the groom, also had all of his family there. It took me about 3 days to sort everyone out, since children were grown up, babies born, new spouses, etc.,<span> </span>but here is the best part:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "> When Sherial was just getting out of high school in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, she set her sights on California and The Larger World, and convinced her father to sell a cow to finance her trip to California and enrollment to San Diego State. Aunt Ruby lived there and Sherial would be able to stay with her. This was %$4^&@# years ago; Sherial went on to become a flight attendant, travel the world, settling finally in San Francisco. She found her true calling in real estate. I think we have been friends for about 25 years.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Last night, the 3<sup>rd</sup> night of festivities, I was still catching up with the relatives, sitting in the kitchen talking to the bride’s sister and her great aunt.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">It was one little remark that led to a great revelation: I was sitting and talking to <i>Aunt Ruby</i><span style="font-style: normal; ">! A grand lady!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "> -Day of the wedding while delivering the cake to the penthouse, one of Sherial’s sisters said, “Ah do believe ah’m havin’ a meltdown.” I told her that I had a very good friend in my Los Angeles days who came from Meridian, Mississippi, and was very fond of frequently telling me,”Miss Di-hann, Ah’m havin’ another sinkin’ spell.”<span> </span>Laughter all around.</p></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-71131546053842832022008-11-21T07:32:00.000-08:002008-11-21T07:39:23.143-08:00A FAVORITE POEM<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Peace Be Onto Thee, Stranger</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Peace be onto thee, stranger, enter and be not afraid.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I have left the gate open and thou art welcome to my home.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">There is room in my house for all.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I have swept the hearth and lighted the fire.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The room is warm and cheerful and you will find comfort and rest within.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The table is laid and the fruits of Life are spread before thee.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The wine is here also, it sparkles in the light.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I have set a chair for you where the sunbeams dance through the shade.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Sit and rest and refresh your soul.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Eat of the fruit and drink the wine.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">All, all is yours and you are welcome.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Ernest Holmes</div><div>The Science of Mind</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-546229803904801589.post-20417316007794659692008-11-20T13:54:00.000-08:002008-11-20T14:24:46.120-08:00THE KITCHEN OF WHAT's HAPPENING NOWCOCKTAIL -A guest brought a bottle of chardonnay wine all chilled and ready to go. I was polite but really did not like it. Next night I turned it into a delicious cocktail by adding Quady VYA red vermouth and a few drops of FEE whiskey barrel fermented bitters. (Thanks to SFChronicle for telling me its in my neighborhood wine shop, Blackwells, on Geary and 21st avenue.) Very tasty. A <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">drink</span> without the big punch of distilled alcohol.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>APPETIZER - I was looking for tinned fruit pastes for a long time. At the recent New Zealand wine tasting in the Presidio, there is was paired with some strong white cheeses. Soon afterward there was a Baker's Dozen luncheon at the Foreign Cinema and I saw again, the grocery store across the street that said it specialized in Central and South American delicacies, or things, or something.</div><div><br /></div><div>I found 2 pastes, guava and quince, 2# tins under $5.00 each. I presented the guava paste with 2 white cheeses (placed on grapevine leaves from my rooftop garden) with a homemade bread on a marble tray, part of a celebration for a wedding this week, held in a glorious penthouse with amazing views.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today I made delicious appetizers with the guava paste sandwiched between the Monterey Cheese and a fresh apple slice. I like the milder cheese in this combination. Another step away from crackers! More on that later.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04019832025510144062noreply@blogger.com0