morsels & sauces

April in the Bay Area can be tricky. Just in the past week alone, it has rained, fogged over, and shot up to 80 degrees (luckily, not all on the same day). Thus, when planning a wedding in Golden Gate Park, you must call in all of your favors from the gods in order to get an appropriately sun-drenched meadow surrounded by a bower of leafy, bright green trees and bushes. Lucky for my dear friend, the gods owed her some favors, and her little patch of grass practically glowed for her wedding. Converging the top three things I love about spring weddings (good love, good friends, and good food), this San Francisco wedding ended with a reception at one of my favorite places in the world (as detailed here , here , and here , yes here , even here , and finally here ), Greens Restaurant in the city.* There, the sunlight kept pouring into this beautiful room overlooking the Bay and affording a spectacular sunset view. Even more wonderful, the light seemed to follow my friend a...

Do you need something satisfying to take to lunch this week?  Well then, set aside some time now at the end of the weekend to compose a little batch of this Creole Mushroom and Pepper Stew.  The last of the season summer vegetables are singing their swan song until next year; autumnal veggies are crowding out the tomatoes and bell peppers both in the CSA box and at the farmers markets.  Some parts of the US are experiencing the bracing chill of autumn (while California remains drought and heat-ridden).  In other words, it's officially fall. While this recipe does require quite a bit of preliminary chopping, it comes together easily and quickly. Admittedly, there wasn't much that made this particular dish "Creole" other than a little heat from the cayenne and the hint of thyme (and it uses only two of the "Holy Trinity"--bell pepper, onions, and celery).  Perhaps the addition of paprika and celery would kick this into Louisiana terri...

So it went like this: Upon crossing the threshold of Greens* , I see a chef, complete with white coat, speaking to a couple.  I recognize her face, but consider that I may be mistaken.  She sees me as I quickly glace at her left lapel, to discover, indeed in a lovely script, the name Annie Somerville .  I look back at her face, now with a giant--if dopey--grin on my own.  She sees that I have not only recognized her, read her name, and had my recognition confirmed, but that I have fully entered into pure fandom.  She looks away.  I do not.  I try to act cool.  I practically skip to our table.  I try to pull myself together. *After a round of drinks at The Interval at Long Now , and people, that place is awesome. Besides the very tasty daiquiri that I had, I was delighted by the Clock of the Long Now and an inspiring library. View from our table.  Not bad. That was how I spent my 40th birthday at Greens....

It has been raining north of here, which means many, many mushrooms.  Of course, we are not eating personally harvested mushrooms.  No, no.   Without our transplanted back to the Mid-West  mycologist-cum-farmer  to guide us through a forest foraging,  the husband trusts himself to gather one mushroom and one mushroom only--the chanterelle. I applaud his restraint.  However, that doesn't mean that we don't delight in finding (and photographing) mushrooms of all sorts.  And lucky for us, the redwoods up in Fort Bragg provide plenty of opportunity: While I recognize that all of those mushrooms are probably poisonous, I once had a friend who owned a mushroom farm in Pennsylvania.  I met him while I was in Ireland, and upon my return to the states, he invited me to his mushroom farm in, I kid you not, the Mushroom Capital of the World (or so the Wikipedia page proclaims).  Sure, I was fascinated by all of the growing r...