eggbeater

The Farm & Where I'm Going

I'm back from the farm just in time to start packing. Leaving SF for the second time, I am off to a quieter, sunnier, greener location. Across the bay. Closer to Berkeley Bowl, The Cheeseboard, Poulet, Vik's Chaat House, Sketch, Tail of the Yak, Black Oak Books and a BART station free of heroin addicts.

{Don't worry, mr. old school shuna at Eggbeater will never wear Birkenstocks!}

The farm was lovely. Long long walks with the dogs, watching winter slowly edged out with mischievous signs of spring, listening to four legged, bushy tailed, upstairs neighbors rustling on the tin roof, catching up with silence and reading. This is a place I have been visiting since I worked at Bouchon 8 years ago. Patrick came to the back door with the best cherries I have ever tasted. A few weeks later I took a garde manger intern to pick some basil and I fell into an Alice in Wonderland warren, tumbling past the flamingo croquet game landing at the "drink me" potion. I've been loopy with love ever since.

Identifying as a fruit-inspired pastry chef means that I want to know about every aspect of fruit growing. The history, the agricultural heroines and hero's, which ecosystems produce what best and why, weather and dirt. Being a photographer means that I know I cannot "capture" a subject unless I photograph it over and over. The works which moves me by the artists I admire live(d) with their subjects. Being a professional cook means that I have to absolutely understand one must posses unbelievable stamina and patience for "doing the same thing over and over." One has to taste and feel and smell and cut and saute and braise and juice the same ingredient season after season to even begin to understand it.

Like traveling, the farm is an education incomparable to book/in-school learning. We touch, we watch as blossom transforms to fruit, we hear the bees come, we listen to their absence as rain falls, we "thin" peach trees and also see how the fruit is different when we don't, we painstakingly peel a green walnut and create nocino from its young essence, we watch the delicate silver English graft fight with the coarse Black Walnut bark, we taste figs from each of the three pregnancies and we eat the almonds green because we can't wait-- they taste so innocent and tender!

The farm strengthens me. It's where I go to breathe and look far into the horizon. I love watching the landscape change almost inperceptibly. I love watching the dogs follow a scent and chase rabbits and eat groundhogs. They show me which way to go and sometimes I bring them to new fields alive with coyote tracks.

The first time I moved to California in 1988 I marveled that I could see the sky. I sat in Dolores Park and watched the clouds roll over my languid body.

What the city gives people, the excitement of the new, the scintillating drama of human life, the loud city sounds, the far becoming close, the whirring humming trembling zinging; I leave to make room for those who thrive on its essence. I grew up in New York City. On the streets. Really it's only one skill among many others.

Just in time for the season Persephone and I created, I am finding my way out of this thick cocoon, creating myself anew.

Farm Sitting 2: The Photos

As promised, the comparative photographs concerning the recent  flooding:

Farm Sitting

As many of you know, Northern California, particularly Sonoma and Napa Counties, suffered severe flooding this winter. Rain came down hard, it came down fast, and the river rose rapidly, spilling out violently, taking its own course over vineyards and though towns.

Walking around the farm these past days has me encountering the drained aftermath. Muck of every sort is compacted on every standing surface it could catch on. Dry grasses lay down in the direction the water forced it. The dogs delight in rustling small creatures from their new hiding places and nests, eating more than their fare share of unlucky animals. The dirt is saturated and slippery, and many acres of vines lay on the ground, iron pylons cracked at the base. The river is murky and its naked edges have gouges voraciously ripped ripped out, slimming the path alongside this moody river.

There is no doubt that weather is violent. Looking down at the river it's easy to see the way it ricochets back and forth evening out sharp elbow turns and every year the swimming hole has been remodeled. My friend's little house sits right on top of the levee. And it's a good thing. At one point water rushed by on either side of him.

Although I can post from his house I cannot get to my own photographs. But he has generously offered me access to his. To see more of Patrick's extraordinary photography and gorgeous prose documenting the minute and the grand life cycle on this land, visit his new blog endeavor, Root Cap. When I get home I will try and post comparative photos so that you can see just how terrifyingly high this water rose.

Post Office & Stamps

Nothing like walking into the post office with over 20 pieces of mail, all stamped, only to find a note above the letter slot which says, "as of January 8, 2006, the 37c letter rate has gone up 2c." Of course postcards have only gone up 1c because why would they streamline such a raise? The International postcard rate has gone up 4c.

I love stamps. I have been making and sending "mail art" since grade school and I have an extensive stationery collection. Although I am not an official collector I can often be seen at the Philatelic window. It's quiet and geeky there, and they always have all the stamps.

So as not to ruin my entire bulk mailing experience, the post office came through with some wonderful new 39c stamps: Favorite Children's Book Animals. The strong and magnificent Olivia is there in her red sailor dress and striped undergarments, The One and Only Famous Wild Thing from Where The Wild Things Are represents, an older rendering and a younger version of Curious George has a silly smile and Dr. Seuss's Fox in Sox stands on one hand.

As much as any of us have embraced email and the quickness of it, nothing makes an impression like a paper letter. We sit down for a letter. We reread it and lay it gently in our lap. We scrutinize the handwriting.

A letter can come from overseas and it can be mailed from the other side of town. As far as I'm concerned it's neck in neck with flowers in the romantic courting process. Far sweeter than text messaging, yes. And the hand picked stamp can make the package complete.

Eggbeater wins "Best Chef Blog" 2005 Food Blog Awards!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you everyone for voting and supporting Eggbeater! What a fantastic service Kate at Accidental Hedonist does for our food blogging community. Thank you Kate. Here is my standing O for your hard work! It is very generous for someone to devote so much time to such a wondrous cause. What an honor to have been nominated and here here for all the winners!!

Now the pressure's on. This year I plan to learn more about computers and the melty buttery nook & cranny fillin details that (I hope) will make eggbeater even more delicious to read and navigate. By Spring I hope to be teaching again and I am hoping a few more of you will buy the T shirt when I add more style choices......

(If corniness is too much for you you may want to stop reading here.)

When I started eggbeater I thought it would be fun to write a little here and there. By some odd stroke of something I had become enamored with and involved with Chowhound, meeting many of the humans behind the names and "handles" through the delicious, silly and surreal Chinatown Chowhound Chowdowns.

Some of those very extraordinary smart, talented and friendly people were food bloggers and rallied behind my completely technologically inept self to begin a food blog of my own. Jen and Jason spent 6 hours patiently walking me through the TypePad process and even talking to me in baby-tech talk to get me slightly familiar with the lingo.

I borrowed a friend's digital camera and soon there was no stopping me. Writing and shooting and calling out for help and receiving advice when I didn't even know I needed it.

Eggbeater has buoyed me through possibly the hardest time in my life. All of you who visit and read and comment and pass the link onto others and buy the t shirt and chat with me at the farmer's market make this site lively and delicious and worthwhile. I am so grateful that I had no expectations about blogging. I knew almost nothing. I knew only a handful of people. And now there's all the amazing people from KQED's Bay Area Bites, my own Northern California peeps, and lots and lots of you(s) in places I might never travel to but can have visual and text conversations with about your own food and life experiences.

I hope our conversations continue. Here's to dreams beyond our wildest expectations!

the kitchen is where I live

As I write this late into the early morning I sit at the kitchen table because it's warmer than my room. I'm attracted to kitchens and all things kitchen. I like your kitchen, magazine kitchens, kitchens in movies, big industrial kitchens and tiny-blink-and-you-miss-it New York City studio kitchens.

But what I really love is sitting in other people's kitchens as they cook for me. Ohhh how this pleases me. Not everyone does it. Only the brave. They say I scare them. But I am as scary as a soft malleable puppy. (Out of my whites, that is.)

I love being cooked and baked for. Savoury, sweet, simple or stupendous, no matter.

In my fifth piece for KQED's Bay Area Bites I expand on this delicious {and appreciative} theme.....

technology sharing

It's hard to believe that I could possibly know anything about technology enough to share it. My roommate D. would die laughing if read the previous sentence. (I better keep it from him, don't want him to keel over just yet, he's soon to do a major data-transfer for me to my new computer!) And even though I am learning about it as slowly as a snail stuck in molasses, I seem to know just enough to share with a few others.

In the fall I helped my good friend Patrick reconfigure/redesign his blog Root Cap and last Sunday I walked my father and stepmother through the process of buying URL's and understanding how to make TypePad work for their website needs.

With Apple announcing the new features of .Mac and iLife 06 at Mac World a few weeks ago, everyone is sure to be blogging by 2007. Or photo sharing or podcasting or talking on the phone Jetsons-style. Or at least be tempted by it all. Need to see what everyone's wearing in that four-way conference call? Now you can.

Years ago my friend received a phone call from his mother while she sat on a gondola in Venice. The next day he said, moved, "I could hear the water lapping against the boat!"

We have come so far indeed. Imagine coming to eggbeater and hearing the sound of the balloon whisk as it ferociously creates a voluminous sabayon or watch caramel go from hard crack to burnt amber? Or the sound of a chef as he barks orders and blurs saute pans and hands and tickets.

Will pie crust be easier when you can see the exact point at which I add iced water or the way I roll it swiftly and economically? Will fewer people enter exorbitant culinary schools if they have more to see than just the nice PR photos of famous chefs in pristine whites in shiny kitchens on lush campuses? Will more people travel to smell tropical fruits or help save protected lands in faraway places after they witness visual snippets that tempt and lure?

It might be lovely even to play you some of the small movies I've made of the dogs barking on the levee, or of various ocean beach waves. Simple or spectacular, video-casting and podcasting will alter forever the way we exchange information with those we love and those who will forever remain strangers.

It's satisfying to share with someone who feels overwhelmed by technical intricacies. It has meant a lot to me that many of you have answered my questions about HTML or digital photography or just basic blogging details. And so, what little I do know, I am here to share. I can also teach you how to knit, but you'll still have to come over for that.

can someone please explain this to me?

Just like any good baked-goods eating New Yorker I am in love with the City Bakery's ineffable Pretzel Croissant. Many a person has waxed poetic, I am just a  mere speck on the page of of fan letters written to this perfectly balanced sweet and salt, flaky and dense, whole wheat and white flour, twisted and knotted creature of pastry goodness. I send every person who visits New York City to the temple where one can honor the Pretzel Croissant. Bow to it, bring virgins and fresh friut, and tear it apart, showering amber flakes and toasted sesame seeds on sweater fronts and neat laps.

People who despise the exclamation mark write to me, "Who is behind the Pretzel Croissant?! It's so good I'll need to fly here just to satisfy a craving that now can't be satisfied with anything else! Shuna you evil spawn! I was fine before the Pretzel Croissant! WHAT is IN there?!"

But the question I have is this. When I look at my stats/referrers it appears that Pretzel Croissant: http://pretzelcroissant.com/ is a WEBSITE who visits me. How Can A Website Visit Me if eggbeater is no where to be found linked there?

festivities & lulls

Well the votes have been cast. Thank you for your overwhelmingly supportive response! The Internet can feel like a black hole or a flower with a thousand petals depending on what you're using it for. I sit here, alone, and I write. I click a few buttons and it gets whisked away to a magically hidden bulletin board or white wall in a fantastically large gallery and people from every continent, country, city, can take a gander if it suits their fancy. Call me naive but it never ceases to amaze me.

The rain is coming down in Northern California soaking the ground and tearing apart the sky with the cool flat sun of January. Nose to nose with dusk, this particular light may be my favorite. The watery almost iridescent light that is veritably impossible to capture on film and maybe impossible with digital. But I persist and take walks and click shutter after shutter trying to translate a sense of this shy magnificent beauty.

Photography literally translated means drawing with light.

Go Eggbeater! Go Eggbeater!

O! O! Eggbeater has been nominated in the prestigious 2005 Food Blog awards over there at Accidental Hedonist.

T  W  I  C  E !!

1. Best Post, Reader's Choice

AND

2. Best Blog by a Chef

AND 3. Bay Area Bites, KQED's food blog, of which I am one author among many, has been nominated for Best City Blog!

First of all: Thank You! Thank You! I am completely swept off my feet. I am really new on the scene and to receive two nominations is just amazing. And look at the blogs I've been nominated with--! A delicious sampling of us is represented! Amazingly and Internationally varied! Sarcastic & nice alike! Yeah Us!

So, Please go and VOTE for EGGBEATER! And Bay Area Bites! Think of how much your gorgeous blue & orange eggbeater T shirt will be worth if we win....Think of how many foolproof recipes complete with chef suggestions will have grander meaning if we win....Think of how exciting it will be to see me in a swanky hand tied bowtie at the Eggbeater after-party....Think of how you can say, leaning back in thet confident way, "I read Eggbeater when--"

Don't Delay, Vote TODAY!

      { you have until January 18, midnight, to cast your votes }

Shuna's Famous Gingerbread Arrives!

Just in time for burrowing into the coldest months of the year, a warming recipe guaranteed to fill your home with spicy perfume. An old fashioned sweet, gingerbread pleases and pleasures even the chilliest snarksters. Call it breakfast, high tea, sneaky snack, raft for cheese or digestive aid, gingerbread wears many hats.

I adore Shuna's Famous because I made all the gingerbread recipes I could find and then sat down with paper and pencil drawing lines between which ingredient and method created which effect. Molasses adds deep color, moistness and a smoky kind of sweetness. Just buttermilk created little holes and sour cream helped enhance a luxurious richness beyond the spicy. The extra egg yolks add fat ( = moisture) without adding more butter. The simple syrup adds both a hint of sweet and also makes the batter liquidy, which develops a more cohesive flavour composition compared with the creaming method. The variety of spices creates a complexity so the ginger can proudly climb atop a well architect-ed structure instead of being a singular shaky two by four.

But you can arrange things as you wish. I have made this recipe for a number of restaurant kitchens. I have added more and less sugar, ground my pepper coarse and fine, substituted sea salt for kosher and used whipping cream or yogurt.

In the end the scent stops people in their tracks. Dreamily they stop what they were rushing off to do and look at me as if in a trance. "What IS that you're baking?"

I have worked hard on my fourth piece for Bay Area Bites, KQED's (the West Coast PBS/WGBH) food blog. A recipe I hold dear to my heart, and now I'm sharing it with y'all...

http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/2006/01/shunas-famous-gingerbread.jsp   

(just click on this link and it will take you to the full piece.)

Happy Birthday K.

For the last few days I've been giddy with excitement. The bubbly zing zing oh oh I've got a seeecret! excitement. Sometimes you could just burst with a secret. Especially when you know you've bough the most perfect birthday present. And I knew I had.

My beautiful curly red-headed friend K finally, after years of prodding, let me take her to Delfina for a sensually luxurious birthday meal. You might not know just from looking at us but we can turn heads when we begin to move our Caucasian bodies to the sounds of real hip hop. Just like taste memory which begins with tongue, music from the streets of my youth ripples me head to toe, heart trembling with base.

Dinner was the appetizer. While oozy chocolate cake baked, I presented K with a 60GB iPod. Student life has pared my friend's life down and, as she bravely sets down the words of her life, I thought she could use music meals, nourishing ears and spirit.

We cried with the wonderment of it. I gave a little lesson on the mechanisms and thought how amazing it feels to give something that can reach into a person so deeply. How we can affect friendships with intentional acts of "listening." Giving someone a little something special they will not probably buy for themselves. mmmmmm sweet.

Happy Birthday K. I love & appreciate you.