We've arrived!

It's been a full two months since I last posted.  Many apologies, but I've been very very busy.  Four weeks ago Daniel and I left our home in Brooklyn and adventured forth to a new coast.  Although sad to see our lovely neighborhood go, we were bubbling with anticipation to get to our new digs.  After a quick visit in Los Angeles with friends and families, we meandered up the coast, ooing and aahhing at every bend.  The view!  Thrilling, gorgeous, unreal.  And at times, very terrifying.  When you find yourself on the west coast visiting me, a drive on Route 1 is a must.

Now at Harrison Grade, our new home, we're just about settled.  And we're enjoying some of the best meals we've cooked together.  Perhaps it's because of the excellent produce Sonoma County has to offer.  Or maybe it's because our kitchen has four times the space as our Brooklyn studio, allowing ingredients to sprawl across the counter, inviting an easy creativity.  Plus, all of the restaurants remotely close to our cottage close at the very civilized hour of 9pm.  In Brooklyn, a town of slightly less civilized folk, we routinely found ourselves alone in a restaurant after midnight, completely oblivious that we had outlasted our fellow diners.  Here, we don't have that luxury, so we spend more time at home in the evenings.  It's cozy.  But more about dinners to come, today we lunch. 

Play.  Paint.  Daniel is a seasoned painter.  He once painted his entire house red for a Russian themed party!  I am not.  Honestly, it hadn't really occurred to me that I could paint my apartments.  I suppose I never expected to live in them for much longer than a year and was broke and a bit lazy, so the effort of painting didn't cross my mind.  I wish it had - I probably would have respected and loved my previous homes a whole lot more.  Nonetheless, I was given a crash course in interior painting this past week, and couldn't be happier with the results.

First, go to a hardware store (Home Depot has a wide selection) and pick out paint chips.  Grab a bunch, and remember, dark is dark and even the lightest shades are dark when held up against a clean white.  Our entire cottage was painted a sickly peachy yellow, depressing both of us.  The front room and kitchen were the first to undergo a makeover.  Going for bold and elegant with a touch of French farmhouse, we decided to paint one wall a dusty red and clean up the rest with a lovely off-white.  For days we had a few paint chips taped to the wall, trying to decide which worked in what kind of light, and what felt like home.  Cajun Red and Polished Pearl won. 

Next, buy your paint, brushes, rollers, tape, and drop cloths.  Painting will take most of your day, be prepared.  Go slowly, have a steady hand, and plenty of wet paper towels in case of drips.

Then all of the sudden, you have a new living room. 

Fork.  Painting is tiring.  And before you know it, you've inhaled a scary amount of toxins and haven't had a damn thing to eat in hours.  You're fading.  Sustenance.  Lunch.  Sandwich time.  One of our first meals at Harrison Grade was a classic roast chicken.  Economical and delicious, this is our go-to meal, especially given the abundance of fresh herbs that are growing right outside our door.  With the leftovers I made a chicken and vegetable soup and a big bowl of chicken salad.  

Everyone has their own way to prepare chicken salad.  I like to make my own mayonnaise and mix it with Patak's curry paste.  Add diced chicken, celery, red onion, salt and pepper.  Sometimes I'll add apples or currants.  Maybe almonds for more crunch.  Smear your toasted bread with avocado, top with a generous heap of chicken salad followed by greens.  Eat with a napkin.  You might even need a fork.

Curry Mayonnaise

2 egg yolks

1/4 tsp mustard

1/4 tsp salt

2 tbsp white wine vinegar

1 cup safflower, sunflower, or olive oil (I like a combination of safflower and olive)

Patak's Curry Paste (mild, medium, or hot) 

In a bowl, whisk together egg yolks, mustard, salt and vinegar.  Using egg beaters, whisk in the cup of oil very very slowly.  Drip by drip, let the oil emulsify with the yolks to form a thick, creamy mayonnaise.  When all of the oil is incorporated, stir in the curry paste to taste (I use about a tablespoon.)

Glass.  What could be more refreshing than a midday, mid-painting beer?  Hefeweizen, please.  The Widmer Brothers have been brewing this Hefeweizen since 1984.  From Portland, Oregon, these brewers are west coast favorites.  Lovely, light, and full of citrus and summer, this beer was their flagship.  It's perfect for an afternoon break from housework, coming in at a reasonable %4.9 alcohol.  Thirst quenching, delightful.  Don't forget to serve with a thick wedge of lemon.

California teeming.

Sorry for the short hiatus in posts, I've been out and about in beautiful Northern California.  We rented a car and took to the forest, exploring Sonoma for the better part of a week.  This is a very lovely part of the country, and my first time visiting.  Totally awed, I had many favorite moments, but one of our final days certainly tops the list.

Fork.  Oysters.  I love oysters.  I love the entire process of eating an oyster.  Shuck, season, slurp, swallow.  Don't forget to chew.  They can range from briny like the sea to clean as a cucumber.  Salty punches or mild pleasures.  Texturally, the differences between any two varieties is also amazing.  Some are creamy and relaxed, others gigantic and plump.  I prefer the oyster in the middle - ones with enough bite to remind me I'm eating an animal and enough sweet flavor to encourage slow chewing.  Nothing too salty please.

I've eaten oysters all over the place and found different rituals everywhere I go.  In Tallahassee they arrive on ice in a bucket, accompanied by tobasco, saltines and plenty of pitchers of PBR.  Many restaurants in New York City offer discounted oysters in the afternoon (thank you thank you), where the mignonette dressing and a squeeze of lemon are all you'll need.  New Orleans serves them fried, all spiced up, Creole-like.  And on the coast in Northern California, they encourage making use of the barbecue, a completely new concept for me.  

It turns out, oysters on the grill are fantastic.  And incredibly easy to prepare.  Take your oyster (choose a fatty), place it curved shell down (pictured below) directly over your hot coals.  Give them a few moments and they'll begin sputtering seawater and hissing loudly.  Be careful!  They tend to pop and spew very hot water everywhere.  When they are done, some will snap open, but others just won't, so grab them from the grill when they start getting very noisy and bubbly.  Let them cool a moment, then pry them open and eat with your favorite spicy barbecue sauce.  It's a revelation - smokey, tender, and a little crispy.  Oysters never get boring.
 

Glass.  There is an array of beverages that pair nicely with oysters, both raw or cooked.  Light beers and dry white wines are the most common.  I love sipping on Muscadet while enjoying a few raw on the half-shell.  The stoniness of the wine allows the individual flavors of the oysters shine.  But, as we were in California wine country and it was only 2pm in the afternoon, we decided to pop open a bottle of bubbly.  Let the festivities begin!

Although there is no shortage of sparkling white wine in Sonoma, one of the favorites is produced by Iron Horse, a vineyard tucked away in the Russian River Valley.  Drinking through their tasting flight while gazing at the endless view of yellowing vines and rolling hills, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  Of course we bought their Classic Vintage Brut.  A blend of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, it is everything you want out of a bubbly - fresh and dry with a touch of cream and fruit.  A classic indeed.

Iron Horse vineyards.  Do visit.

Play.  The best way to prepare yourself for an afternoon of grilling oysters on the beach is to whet your appetite for the sea with a long long drive down the Pacific Coast.  We met up with Highway 1 just outside of Jenner, at the Sonoma Coast State Beach (home of the Goat Rock, which we failed to identify).  Keep driving south and you'll find amazing views of the ocean, the beaches, and the craggy cliffs.  Tiny seaside towns keep popping up, begging you to stop in for souvenirs, oysters, ice cream.  The land here is unlike anything on the East Coast, and reminded me most of the grand seascapes of Southern Ireland.  Lots of rocks and greenery, all spritzed with that cold cold ocean mist.

 

Go with lots of people for the best deal.

 Continue south until you hit Tomales Bay, just north of Point Reyes Station.  Be sure to bring napkins, forks, lemons and barbecue sauce.  Everything else can be purchased on site.  Oh, and don't forget the bubbly.  Plastic cups, a must.

Comfort.

Play.  A few days ago we went to see a movie in the theaters.  Going to the movies is one of my favorite pastimes.  It's about the smell of popcorn and the bags of Swedish Fish.   It's about the previews!  It's about getting out and making the movie an event.  Of sharing each scene with a room full of strangers.  It's about leaving the darkened theater and stepping into the blinding light of the lobby and feeling alive.  Stare at yourself in the florescent hue of the bathroom mirror and you'll feel invincible.  So says the boy.

We saw Take Shelter, a new movie directed by Jeff Nichols and starring Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain.  The acting is superb, the story is gripping, and the filming is in turns surreal, beautiful, and terrifying.  You should see this movie.  

In an attempt to keep most of the plot a surprise, I'm going to choose my words carefully.  This is a movie about a man battling some kind of mental illness, a paranoia that brings him to build out a shelter in his backyard.  There is a storm coming.  The scary, apocalyptic kind of storm you only read about in science fiction.  The rain is going to be oily and unnatural, and multiple tornadoes are going to ravage the countryside.  People will become violent, not themselves.  All of these visions are shown as the vibrant dreams of a man who can't seem to grasp the difference between his subconscious and reality, driving him insane.  The ending is awesome and quite a welcome surprise, but the tragic, haunting demise of a loving family man left me desperate for a hug.  And something very comforting.

Fork.  Or spoon, really.  After spending two hours trying to cope with a man's insanity and the end of the world, all I wanted was a warm bowl of tasty, satisfying soup.  One of my fall favorites is butternut squash.  Sweet and savory and silky.  Lovely burnt orange.  Very inviting, very comforting.
Recently, I've been adding apples, apple cider, lots of thyme, cinnamon, allspice, and star anise. 

Butternut Squash Soup with Apples and Star Anise

1 onion, diced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
olive oil
2 large butternut squash, peeled and diced
3 large apples, peeled and diced
3-4 tablespoons fresh thyme
2 tablespoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons allspice
4 cups vegetable broth
1/3 cup apple cider
4 star anise

toasted almond slivers
fresh thyme 

Saute onion and garlic in oil until softened.  Add thyme, cinnamon, allspice, salt and pepper.  Add squash and apples and pour in stock and cider until just covered.  Bring to a boil and simmer over medium heat until squash and apples are tender.  Puree with an immersion blender until smooth.  Add star anise and infuse for a few hours before serving. 

Reheat, taste and season as necessary.  Garnish with toasted almonds and thyme.  Serve with crusty bread.  

Glass.  Cabernet Franc and I have recently become very smitten.  Our romance has been slow to take off, mainly because I failed to recognize her endless potential.  One moment she is all sorts of savory and vegetal, spice and green.  The next she's a juicy, fruity, light-bodied red.  Sometimes she's funk and earth, but the next sip will surprise with hints of ripe berries and dried flowers.

There is something very comforting about Cabernet Franc and all of her depth.  Drinking a good glass of it just feels right, like how red wine should really taste.  A pure expression of the process. 

And Alice is on the label!

Bebame 2009, from AH Wines in El Dorado, California is a blend of Cab Franc (95%) and Gamay (5%).  The producers believe in the old world style of production - plant your grapes correctly, farm them naturally, pick at the right time, and let them do most of the work in the cellars.  It shows in this delightful wine, which we just got our hands on at my shop.  The Gamay shines through, but the Cab Franc is the backbone and the structure.  Elegant and fun, this wine is a solid reminder of the good things in life.  Paired with a steaming bowl of butternut squash soup, you'll sigh deeply and sip slowly.  Relaxed and comforted.