This morning, the food section of the San Francisco Chronicle covers the conflict between Carlo Petrini and the Ferry Plaza Market farmers. There’s a really interesting conversation going on in the comments over at Steve Sando’s blog — Sando, who runs Rancho Gordo is one of the farmers who sells his stuff at Ferry Plaza, and he’s on the board for the non-profit market. He also is one of the folks who met with Petrini when he was in town last week promoting the upcoming Slow Food Nation event next Spring. Petrini has a book out, and was supposed to…
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Driving across town yesterday, I looked up and saw a small flock of white pelicans, probably ten or twelve of them, doing big slow turns as they rode a thermal. The white pelicans come back every year about this time, and the thrill never diminishes. For one thing, they’re enormous — watching a white pelican come in for a landing is like watching a big bomber plane come in — one is always astonished that something that big, and that body-heavy can be as graceful as it is. Years before I moved here, when I was doing my PhD work,…
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Look at my new toy! It’s a tractor! It’s a sprinkler! It moves on it’s own accord — follows the hose — all the way around my house! I’d never seen one of these until I moved up here and I did really think they were just a goofy gimmick, but this spring my neighbor across the street had his turned on, and when I took the time to watch it, I saw that it seemed to be pretty efficient. It’s low to the ground, so you don’t lose as much water to evaporation as with the back-and-forth sprinkler —…
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Spring has been late this year — I can’t remember a year since I’ve lived here where it’s been May before I’ve had greens — but April was cold, grey, and snowy. These are the first of the year — Grumolo Bionda Chickory from my beloved Seeds of Italy. These overwintered, actually — once things thawed out this spring, I pulled the dead rotty bits off the tops, and lo and behold, green leaves sprouted from underneath. So, while the spinach, arugula, italian mustard and turnip greens and broccoli rabe are all just wee seedlings, I’ve got some greens out…
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In my quest for a bread that is slightly more sophisticated than the no-knead bread, but yet, relatively easy to produce on a regular basis, I’ve been playing with Nancy Silverton’s Country white bread recipe. The first one was okay, but I didn’t like the way it baked up. I resisted the temptation to cook it in my Le Cruset pot, and well, the crust was too hard, too thick, and slightly burned on the bottom (I have a baking stone in my oven). Here’s the second try: This second loaf, while quite pretty, is a little tough. The challenge…
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The weather turned cold and grey today — and after our walk/swim, poor Owie was so shivery that he needed to be swaddled in a towel. Some hunting dog, eh?
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I’ve been seeing reviews all over the place of Barbara Kingsolver’s new book about eating locally — she’s not necessarily one of my favorite writers, but between this interview over at Salon, and this piece she wrote for Mother Jones I might just have to go get a copy. Here’s a quote from the Mother Jones article: Supermarkets only accept properly packaged, coded, and labeled produce that conforms to certain standards of color, size, and shape. Melons can have no stem attached; cucumbers must be no less than six inches long, no more than eight. Crooked eggplants need not apply.…
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I’ve been making the no-knead bread regularly all winter. A loaf a week or so — last week I made rolls from the dough for sandwiches — they were okay, not as good as the regular no-knead since I didn’t do them in the Le Cruset.Yesterday, I had a loaf proofing and I thought I’d experiment with baking it as a loaf. I have an old carbon-steel loaf pan — I don’t know where it came from — maybe the box of stuff my mother sent me when she gave me her KitchenAid Mixer — but I figured that I’d…
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This is the new bed I dug on Sunday. And this: is the bed I have yet to dig. The second bed defeated me. I’m not a very big person, and so digging means sticking the flat-end spade in, standing on it, and either wiggling it side to side or sort of jumping on it until it goes in. Because this is old sod, I have to do this from a couple of angles before I can pull up a chunk of sod, shake as much soil off as I can, and then chuck it in the can for the…
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The entire day I searched for spring but spring I could not find, In my straw sandals I tramped among the mountain peak clouds. Home again, smiling, I finger a sprig of fragrant plum blossoms; Spring was right here on these branches in all of its glory! Plum Blossom Nun (via the Nebraska Zen Center)