Monthly Archives: September 2009

I’m really going to miss the Sunday market. Its’ last day until next summer is the 27th. I’ll get some mushrooms next week. This week I got a pound of tomatillos to make a salsa to go with skirt steak or beef flap (none was to be found so I had to get ribeyes, a hardship I know). Also heirloom tomatoes. I got a pound of zebra-striped green and yellow tomatoes in various stages of ripeness and the vendor threw in one black tomato he made me promise we’d eat last night.

We did, but on a burger so I only tasted a bit of it. It looked strange but tasted wonderful! I also got two organic grass-fed beef burger patties at Whole Foods, brushed them with extra virgin olive oil, dusted with salt and pepper and they went on the grill, to be served on thawed potato rolls with some organic cheddar and baked fries. Great meal.

A husband/wife team cooked 90 loaves of bread for the event and I had to buy one with herbs and molasses. Jim doesn’t really like it. It’s a rustic bread that reminds me of my time in Mendocino at the wood-fired oven at an ungodly hour of the morning, catching 650-degree loaves with bare hands and placing them on the rack. Frat prank? No, perhaps, probably yes. But I did it for 50 loaves and worked quickly enough to not get burned and not drop one!

Jim and I got an inexpensive keyboard the other day and he’s been having fun with playing drums. Pity the poor dog if he finds the barking dog or doorbell keys. He’ll play them all the time just to mess with her teeny brain. It’s been fun. We can’t hook it up to the computer because I’ve moved it upstairs to the “loft” where I can play at 2 a.m. if I want, on headphones, and not wake a soul. Not that I remember much of my early training. I left music for 38 years. That’s a heck of a long time!!! Luckily Jim supports me in this effort and enjoys hearing me practice (I’m not ready to say the word “play,”)

Perhaps I can just make the salsa and wait for the appropriate meat to come in. I hate to smother a ribeye with salsa. I’ve a ratatouille nearly done that needs more tomatoes and simmering to finish. Perhaps I should do that along with the ribeyes and roast some red potatoes with rosemary. Or make mashed. Jim’s grandmother gifted us with a potato masher (we have three in storage, plus a ricer). Mashed tonight. Got some heirloom garlic from Whole Foods and will make garlic mashed potatoes for dinner.

The storms keep tumbling in but they’re intermittent and not particularly violent. They’ll choose to become so as soon as we turn on the grill! We’ll look forward to grilling the next few weeks. The trees are already turning here and I hope to get some photos this weekend. Take care and have a good week. Cheers, Dee

Leave it to my brother-in-law John to mess up his lead on the rented poles, waders and boots. He sat on the sofa like an old woman, went through two hotel sewing kits (we were here on a temporary gig so didn’t bring the larger sewing box) and for the past three weeks I’ve been getting monofilament out of the vacuum, rugs and my shoes.

Now his parents are here. We love them all. But John was funny. He was reading this flyfishing book and trying his knots. Jim got them both the gear just to spend time with his little brother. He got a great video but we tried to send it to his folks and even after eight hours it wouldn’t load. I think if he practiced some more and got a guide once he’d be a great fly fisherman. He spends too much time working at work and working on the house and needs a hobby, especially one he can do with his young son.

With older brother Jim, my husband, he wants no household chores except perhaps taking the dog out once a day. And he does play with her outdoors or, in bad weather, in the house. We bought John the same flyfishing book he had from his local library and got the newest edition paperback for the bookshelves for our visitors.

I wish my family would head this way, after the major event a week away. It’s a lot of work hosting family and friends but worth every moment of quality time spent with them when they’re out of their element and just “on vacation.” I just get more tired than I used to be and have to take a few moments to myself from time to time. Plus get dinner ready and take care of the dog.

So, the monofilament invasion, after about ten vacuumings in two weeks, has lessened. Can the world create (hear this, parents) more driven, intelligent and singularly focused (methodical) sons than these? I think not. Some employers hire kids out of college simply because they’re the sons (sorry, daughters) of farmers. They know you’ve milked cows twice a day and cut and carted hay and never really had a childhood. I had the luxury of spending three of my formative years on what was designed as a “mansion” and that i was certainly not. We worked hard every weekend for three years to make it a home. But now that I think of it most of the land was not able to be built upon on a hillside, and any flatland we had was “lawn” because Dad wouldn’t endure weeds. We just mowed them with a Toro, at age 8 I knew how to drive a riding mower. Perhaps if we planted the right grasses one or two cows could have lived there, or a dozen goats.

He just wanted the view, which was spectacular. This will become a recurring thread in my non-cooking stories, though dinner was great tonight! Cheers, Dee