Farm in a box

Dear Family and Friends,

I've been learning about watercolor in an online class with Este MacLeod. I used to just splash paint onto my drawings, but now I can be more purposeful if I want. Here is one of the beets in today's CSA box, which I get every Wednesday afternoon. The pickup point is someone's front porch in East Sacramento. Whenever I go there's rarely anyone else around -- just a stack of boxes and some flowers in a bucket. I transfer everything from my box to a bag, sign my name. and leave. I love getting to know what's fresh and growing nearby. Today it was beets, onions, little potatoes, chard,  bitter greens and strawberries. They come from Full Belly Farm. 

Also, don't you love that today is May 20, 2020?
Love,

k

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Paint and zucchini

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I burned dinner, or part of it.

I was painting and forgot to check the zucchini. 

I love painting, and luckily had more zucchini, so I threw these out and made more.

I’m lucky to have paint and zucchini.

Love,

k

Far away, nearby

Written Saturday night:
Dear Friends,

About a month ago I went to an art workshop in Napa led by Judy Coates-Perez. She taught many skills, but the most important to me was an aside — that there is a great Japanese supermarket on Freeport Boulevard. (Teachers never know what nugget will stick.) I have a soup recipe that calls for mirin, which I have not been able to find at Safeway or Trader Joe’s,  so finally today I searched for it at Oto's Marketplace. 

I felt as off-balance there as if I were on a skateboard. I could not read the labels. I did not recognize the pink and green sweets. I walked up and down the aisles looking for mirin, but had no idea where it would be. I thought it had sesame in it, so I lingered longest at the sesame oil section. Finally I asked a clerk for help. “Am I pronouncing it right?” I asked him.  No, I was missing something — the good-natured young man said MIRIN slightly differently; he pointed me to the rows of bottles. 

I also bought mushrooms with long legs and sweet pickled radish, and pork-stuffed gyoza, dumplings that I sautéed in sesame oil for lunch. They were delicious. I loved the whole trip — far away, nearby.

Love,

k

Dog trains human, with small success

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

This is what I did today:

Zing and I are training each other -— He will be quiet without me for 15 minutes if he has a good bone and subdued lighting

             I cooked another batch of tomato jam, probably the last of the season

You can find the recipe at the New York Times

Loved Music at Noon’s Cathie Apple on flute, 

especially the Adagio by Jacques Casterede

 Remembered yesterday’s champagne toasts with new friends

Love,

k

Learning starts at the Japanese bakery

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Japanese culture is big here, and I’m just learning some. There’s even a neighborhood called Japantown — like Chinatown in New York (and other cities). I think it’s close to me, but I haven’t found it. Today I was a bit farther away — exploring Freeport Boulevard for fun after a routine doctor’s appointment (You know how you reward yourself following such an anxiety-filled event?) I stopped at the Mahoroba Japanese Bakery, which is a small tent-like, pagoda-like building plunked down in the parking lot of a strip mall. I almost missed it because I wasn’t looking for a shop in the parking area. I’m glad I found it: I had a roll with two small teriyaki-flavored chicken meatballs for $2! It was light and satisfying — good for a late lunch. I’ve got lots more to learn, but what better place to start than a pastry shop?

Love,

k

This looks serene, but there are cars parked all around, 

with stores to the left, and busy Freeport Boulevard to the right

You can see the pastry on their Facebook page

I ate mine before I thought of taking a photo!

Mayonnaise: the continental divide

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Yesterday I told you I’m lost without Hellmann’s mayonnaise. Who knew that life could be so different in California!?!

Several of you wrote to assure me that Best is simply Hellmann’s West. I said OK, but I still prefer Hellmann’s.

Then this morning I found a jar of Hellmann’s in the refrigerator, hiding in plain sight. I remembered that back when my mind was still cloudy (yesterday, maybe?) I had conducted a Hellmann’s search. Then I just put its absence down to Safeway “specialness.” I didn’t look farther, but eventually I did find this errant Hellmann’s jar somewhere. Target, maybe. So I bought it and forgot it. 

Anyway, today I tested the two — just for fun; you know the results are skewed because I’m prejudiced. Here’s what I found:

Hellmann’s has more tang. Best is more — to use your word, Susan — unctuous. Slippery. 

Hellmann’s is yellow-er. 

                       First I tried with little tomatoes, but their acidity overwhelmed the taste.

I switched to plain crackers.

Result: Hellmann’s has a brighter flavor. Best is more virtuous. There is a difference. 

Their labels (which were impossible to photograph because they are curved) have the same ingredients, but Best uses only organic, and cage-free eggs. Hellmann’s has something called calcium disodium EDTA (used to protect quality, they say). Every cook knows the eggs from different chickens might taste different. Also, the ingredients could be in slightly different proportions. A drop of lemon juice can make a difference. Also, since we’re delving into this way too deep — their jars look the same, but the lids aren’t interchangeable. 

You may continue to research here. Thanks to Susan (my Irish friend who notes that Mayo is also a county in Ireland) for the link!

Love,

k

Neighbors, and who stole the Hellmann''s?

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I am now slightly whirling — from the condo crawl!
Wine at two places, sangria at the last … with brandy … which is the secret, Beth and Bob told us. And I agree. I’m not sure the exact recipe, but it’s something like, cheap red wine, brandy, a cinnamon stick — let them marinate for 24 hours or so.  I’m not sure if there’s anything else.  Ask me tomorrow.

It was lovely to get to know people who had been just passing characters on the elevator. And to hear the differences of the units — freeway sound on the south side of the building, morning trash pickup on the north ... and sights:  harsh sun on the south, views of government buildings on the north. It was also fun to see what each person/couple did with similar room layouts. I visited three places tonight, each one distinct. I like my home the best!

On another note: I don’t know if any of you are Hellman’s Mayonnaise fans, but I hope there’s one out there! Then you certainly know that it’s the best! Here’s a quirky thing about Sacramento: Hellman’s can’t be found.  I was making potato salad today, and needed some Hellmann’s. I went to three places, starting with Safeway, then Target, then Walmart. Also the corner grocery store at 5th and N. Nobody carried Hellmann’s.  And that other stuff — it’s no good! I’m going to have to order two jars of Hellmann’s every January. 

Love,
k

Dealing with accompanying smell of dog-life

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Where did the day go? A bit of looking at numbers, then I had fun making a chocolate cake for Patrick’s birthday, then more being hypnotized by numbers, then dinner at Chicago Fire Pizza with Patrick and Steph. It was wonderful to talk with them, and the pizza is so good you’ll all have to try it when you visit. 

Zing has found a dog-sitter named Tony, who lives in our building. I couldn’t let Zing sit on someone else’s couch without a bath. Zing’s hair — like mine — gets prettier when it’s grittier, so he doesn’t need many baths, but after a while there’s an accompanying smell of dog-life. I could have taken his photo in the tub, but he asked me to be respectful please. 

Love,
k

Here's the cake recipe. I got it from Mary. It's easy and delicious.This time I used heavy cream for the frosting and it was better than  ever. Keep it in the refrigerator. 

Mary's Chocolate Cake

1. Bring just to a boil in the microwave 2 sticks unsalted butter, 1 C. water, 4 T. unsweetened cocoa. (I use Ghirardelli.)
2. Mix together 2 C. sugar, 2 C. flour, 1/2 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. soda. Add to cocoa mixture.
3. Add 2 eggs & 3/4 C. sour cream (not lowfat). Don't overbeat.
4. Pour into two greased & floured 8" or 9" cake pans. Bake 30-35 min. at 375°.
5. Cool on raised cake racks & frost. 

Notes: 

1. I rub the butter papers onto the pan, then add a tablespoon or 2 of flour. Tap pan so flour adheres to bottom & sides, then dump extra flour into sink. 
2. I've also used 2 heart-shaped pans: bake for 25 min.; 9" x 13": bake 30 min.; jelly roll pan: bake 20 min. 

Frosting

Melt 1 bag Ghirardelli milk chocolate pieces & a lump of butter (2 to 3 T.) in a glass bowl in microwave. Then put this into mixer bowl & beat it with confectioner's sugar, about a teaspoon of vanilla, & some half & half. If you need a lot of frosting, put in a lot of sugar. If you want a candy bar-like frosting, use less sugar. Add enough cream to make it spreadable. It will harden a bit. I never measure, & it turns out different every time, but always perfect. Use darker chocolate if you like.

Notes: 

1. Put the rounded tops of the cake together. 
2. Don't frost until cool, or your cake will crumble. 
3. I love those cardboard cake circles that you can buy at JoAnn's. They enable you to move the cake to a plate easily.
4. Cut four 2-inch pieces of waxed paper & place them on the four sides of the cardboard circle; then put the first layer down. Frost top & sides. Put the second layer on the first, rounded side down, & frost top & sides with a flourish. Pull out the waxed paper strips & you will have a neat edge, no dribbles of frosting. 
5. Put the beauty on a cake pedestal, maybe on a doily. 
6. And light a candle.

Last tidbits of 2016

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

For a long while after Clark died I didn’t know what I was eating. Frozen lasagna mostly. Pizza. Fried eggs. And, of course, farmers market fruits and salad. But lately I’ve gotten back to cooking. Common thought is it’s not nice to cook for just one person, but so far I’ve been enjoying it. You make something, eat it tomorrow too and then freeze the rest. Today it was chickpea soup with olive oil and spinach. Tomorrow, whatever I find at the farmers market. It helps that I’m reading a couple books by Anthony Bourdain, a writer who makes me hungry. “I don’t know why I keep reading his books,” the clerk at Barnes and Noble said when I was buying A Cook’s Tour. “I don’t like him on TV, but he’s a great writer.” Remind me never to catch his TV show.  

Zing and I trained each other today. I’m trying to outsmart him, and it’s not working. He looks at me like he knows what I’m up to. He refuses the delectable treats I offer. He’s supposed to get immersed in them and forget that I’m leaving him alone. But he disdains them. I go out into the hall anyway. After a minute I hear Zing breathing on the other side of the door. I don't know if this means he's anxious or just that he's on to me. Zing is training me.

On another note, a couple of days ago I had an air connection in Minneapolis, and noticed a few interesting things about that snowy city:  first, much of Minnesota seemed to be heading to Florida. A horde heading to Fort Myers was giving flight personnel fits. It seems they had too much luggage. Another Minneapolis fact is that two out of the two cashiers who served me at airport shops and restaurants were young women wearing black hijabs. They might have been the Somalis I read about, who have made their home there. Other than their distinctive dress, they were commonplace, helpful and funny. 

And the last — maybe the slightest — thing about Minneapolis is that the airline personnel kept referring to the city as Minnie. As in, “Welcome to Minnie, everyone.” “Hope everyone has a great day in Minnie!"

These tidbits make travel interesting.

Love for the last time in 2016!

k

Here comes Santa Claus ... and here ... and here ...

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Capitol Mall is usually vacant on Saturday morning — unless there’s an event (and there are a lot of them — a run, a march, a fair). There hasn’t been much happening since the weather turned cold, so on our morning walk today Zing and I were kind of surprised to see Santa on the otherwise empty mall. Yes, Santa was walking down to the Capitol. No sleigh. No reindeer. In the distance he looked rather lonely. Then another Santa appeared a couple of blocks behind the first one, and on the other side of the mall we saw a two more Santas holding hands, then two young women in red skirts and white boots came skipping by — all heading to the Capitol. The first Santa could have been a dream, but as more and more appeared I began to wonder if there even is a North Pole. The crowd of Santas shook my notions of Christmas. Finally, close to home again, I asked a couple of Santas waiting for the light to turn green what could possibly be happening ...  

“It’s the Santa Fun Run!” said one, whose beard looked rather fake now that I was up close.

Zing and I had to get our coffee and kibble quick or we would have followed up on this. But then, we weren’t dressed in red and neither of us has a beard … we were completely out of place in this crowded North Pole, California style.

After that Zing went to the gym, and when Sandra brought him back she stayed to talk a while. It’s good to be getting to know people out here. Then Zing and I did a few Christmas errands, and toward late afternoon we drove southeast — no, southwest — I get east and west confused because the ocean is in a different direction out here. Anyway, we drove a little past Davis to this farm store Mary Kaye told me about. She indicated that the almonds at Pedrick’s might rival Blue Diamond, so I had to find out. But when I got there I was mesmerized by the fat bags of cashews. I'd never considered what a cashew tree might look like. I still have no idea, but I want to find out. I bought two big bags of cashews, some lemon candy, and a tiny bag of pistachios already shelled. Mary Kay says the pistachio tree is most beautiful. I’ll let you know.

Love,

k

Santas in sneakers

Countryside across from Pedrick's

Wine country or work?

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I promised myself to hem the drapes. But I also promised myself to take Zing for a long walk — wild if possible — every Tuesday and Thursday. Those are the days we would run 4 miles in the woods in Tallahassee. I want to get back to that. I was a coin toss: hem drapes or go exploring? Hmmm…. 

I can finish the drapes tomorrow.

At 1 p.m. we drove to Napa and Yountville, places people have been raving about for the natural beauty and, of course, for wine country. I put Thomas Keller’s  Bouchon Bakery in Yountville  as my navigation destination and took off. The bakery and cafe are part of Keller’s food empire that includes the French Laundry restaurant, where my Saturday friend had eaten a glorious and expensive three-hour dinner a week or so ago. Yountville is just up the road from Napa. 

Our drive took a little more than an hour. When we arrived, we took a long walk around town, then bought baked goods to go: a $10 slim slice of quiche (very light and tasty, but with a sorry, soggy crust) four croissants and two pecan rolls. From the nibbles I’ve had so far, I’ve got to say the rolls are pridefully made, but not over-the-top delicious. Flaky, yes. Overpriced, yes. Will I come back for more? Yes. 

I was not prepared for wine country. I expected quaint roadside signs announcing wineries every now and then, but it’s more like winery, winery, winery. And then you get to Yountville, which is like a deluxe Disneyland of wine and food: one long road of deliciousness. Summer camp for sybarites. Me. You.  Classy, understated hotels and a couple of clothing stores. A cultivated cemetery. And the scenery looked like a label on a wine bottle — rows of vines with rolling hills in the distance, and maybe a Spanish-style building in the foreground. They aren’t faking it; that’s the way it really is!

Thursday was not too busy, but I have the feeling weekends can be crushing. Zing and I will be back soon, looking for a dog-friendly hotel and nature paths to explore. Then I’ll go out to dinner. 

Love, 

k

Late afternoon on Washington Street, Yountville, CA

The Zing connect: Trains and high-end restaurants

Written last night:

Dear Friends,
Today I left Zing alone and he didn’t bark. He was on a tranquilizer (clonidine — the smallest dosage). I left him for 10 minutes, as Karen the UC Davis veterinarian directed. I left my iPhone videocamera on the table, aimed at Zing, to record sounds and (maybe) his movements. There was no sound of barking. As for movements, all you can see in the video is an empty chair. I think Zing went to the door; he was there when I returned, but there were no signs of scratching on the wood. Tomorrow I’m supposed to give him two clonidine pills and then repeat the video exercise. I report to Karen what’s happening. 

This is supposed to be short-term, to break Zing out of his barking frenzy habit.
I’ve got to admit that Zing breaks the ice when we encounter people on our walks. People would not talk to me if it weren't for Zing, and sometimes they do ignore me and only talk to Zing. 

For instance, on our bedtime walk today, we met Mary, whose dog came from a shelter and had suffered similar barking issues. Mary needed to leave her alone when she went to work. She told me she’d used a citronella collar, which emits an unpleasant sound and smell each time the dog barks. Two barks and her dog was cured; Mary leaves for work in peace now. She offered me the collar, in case I want to try. I was tempted, but, no, Zing and I are going to follow Karen’s (slower and possibly more humane) techniques. 

Then there’s Jody, a soft-spoken person who walks a service dog on weekend mornings. We usually exchange a few words. This morning Jody told me he and his wife had had dinner with a friend last night at The French Laundry, the famous restaurant in Yorkville, CA., in the Napa Valley. (I looked it up — $310/dinner. It is supposed to be superlative, maybe the best restaurant in the world) Jody said he works on trains, and his duties include hospitality, and his wife has always loved food, so they jumped at the chance to eat there with their friend, a “food professional." The pork was best, he said. People here seem to love food and be willing to drive a couple hours and pay a lot for a near-heavenly experience. 


Jody works for Siemens, which he said is about finished building the trains for the new high-speed line from Miami to Orlando in its factory here in Sacramento. Jody will be riding the first train from Sacramento to Chicago, and then it will go on to Florida without him. Clark was passionate — about this train, and he would have loved to talk to Jody. But instead, this morning it was me, discussing high-speed rail with this expert. Then our dogs nudged us in different directions. 

Love,
k

Warmhearted day

Written last night:

Today was filled with loving, lovable people.

In the morning I kept unpacking and putting things on shelves. It’s getting homey. At last. I also talked to Patrice and Jennifer and Mary — that connection makes all the difference!

Then Melanie took me to lunch at the Tower Restaurant, where we sat under the trees in the garden. (It’s the same restaurant Keith and I enjoyed last week. Obviously, I don’t have to tell you it’s a place people here are proud of.) We celebrated how we got to know each other under intense circumstances on Saturday. We even toasted the man on the bicycle who brought us together. Health to him! Earlier, when Melanie stopped outside my building to get me, it looked like her front seat was full, so I reached for the back door. “Here,” she said, lifting a bundle beside her and thrusting it toward me,  “I brought you some flowers.” And she pushed a bouquet of sunflowers and purply blooms out the window toward me. “Maybe you want to take them upstairs and put them in some water,” she said. “I’ll wait.”

I really can’t say more. At lunch we talked and talked (OK, maybe I talked more!) over tomato-bacon-avocado salads, and I am overflowing with admiration for this gorgeous, gutsy young woman. She was kind to me.

And this evening Steph and Keith and I had a relaxing dinner at Jack’s Urban Eats, where they sell simple, delicious food. We ate outside, leisurely talking until it was almost dark. It was perfect.

Altogether, this was a warmhearted day. 

Love,
K

Tupelo sweet stop

When you get to where State Route 267 meets US 98 in a lonesome part of Wakulla County, and feel maybe you're on the wrong road, Preston Bozeman  makes you glad you're there.  He sells tupelo honey off the hood of his white pickup not far from the entrance to St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. Yesterday I bought four two-pound jars of it at $14 and some cents (I forget!) each. I heard that tupelo is scarce this year, so I want to stock up. thinking maybe I'll even give some to Mary. Mr. Bozeman told me he expects the barrels to empty before mid-April, when the season will start again. The bees make this "Cadillac of all Honey" for just a month, until mid-May, he said. Last spring's freeze killed blossoms, so this year's batch is smaller than some. You can find Mr. Bozeman on your way to St. Marks every day but Sunday and the fourth Thursday of each month, when he's in Tallahassee, on Thomasville Road just north of I-10.