twenty minutes

The sky was smeared gray even before the rain began. It fell in sideways sheets onto the inky black pavement. We drove to the Greenfield Farmer's Market in near silence.

In forty minutes the market would end and it was going to be our first and last trip for the growing season. Rain fell against the ticking windshield wipers and slurring tires.

It reminded me of John Cage's 1952 composition, 4'33," filled with ambient sound. This was a twenty minute heart-racing score made from nature and machine, fast falling rain and and even faster moving cars.

Slap, slap, slap water pushed against moving glass, rubber, and steel. We're not going to make it, I thought.

And then we did. Our twenty minute drive ended and we still had 15 minutes to shop before the market closed.

About a dozen vendors and half that number of shoppers huddled beneath two lines of white canopy tents. The rain leaked in and rolled down from our hoods to our fingertips.

We were inside The Kitchen Garden's tent with a fall display of orange and yellow carrots, green cabbage heads, purple top turnips, and cherry belle radishes. Farmers Tim Wilcox and Caroline Pam run the farm in Sunderland, Massachusetts.

We were in awe of the produce for a minute or two before picking out a bunch of carrots, parsnips, and a box of shallots. It was standing in front of a Mark Rothko painting for the first time.

Silence. Rain drummed on sagging canvas tops. Our collective fingers rolled into pockets between vegetable examinations and purchases.

I could not take my eyes off the celery root or the cabbage.

These vegetables were jaw dropping knock-outs.

It's as if I could taste them on looks alone, a slow braised head of cabbage sweetened in a bath of milk and cream. Clearly Tim and Caroline are farmers who love to grow and eat good food.

The highway was still soppy wet on our drive home. We took our time and planned out dinner, a roasted root vegetable stew with caramelized shallots and dots of goat cheese on top. All I can say is that it was worth the trip.

a sunken shell

The Macaron is the new cupcake. It's a bite-size airy sandwich cookie. So airy and delicate that it might just float away. Even on its lightest day, the cupcake iced or plain could never aspire to such to the macaron's daintiness.

Further differentiating itself from the cupcake, this cookie demands precise measurements and steps to create a textured shells. The egg whites must be aged, beaten, and then folded into the dry mixture just so. This is what gives them their arched curve and crisped edges (aka feet).

Sweet macarons are often filled with buttercream, chocolate, or jam. But the flavor possibilities are limited only by the density of additional liquids that can sink the cookie. Dry powders and fruit zests combine with the dry mixture to pack flavor and maintain height.

I tried making my first batch of vanilla bean macarons filled with dark chocolate ganache. Unless you want macarons with crumbling bodies and no feet that look like my first attempt, follow these ten steps.

What not to do when making French Macarons

1. Be sleep deprived.

2. Multi-task.

3. Decide to bake a batch of test brownies and cupcakes.

4. Forget for one second that 1 large egg white = about 2 tablespoons.

5. Do math in your head.

5 (a). If #5 happens, do have caffeine instead of water, it might improve your math skills for the next batch.

6. Forget to write down your recipe adjustments for halving and quartering the original recipe.

7. Use parchment paper instead of Silpat (seriously a few drops of water does not steam the macarons off the paper). If you must use parchment paper, allow them to cool for hours maybe even a day.

7 (a). Throw the chocolate batch of macarons into the trash because they have glued themselves to the parchment paper.

8. Pipe your macarons larger than 1 inch.

9. Use egg whites that have not been aged for up to 3 days.

10. Expect perfection.

Macarons
from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern

Confectioners’ (Icing) sugar: 2 ¼ cups (225 g, 8 oz.)
Almond flour: 2 cups (190 g, 6.7 oz.)
Granulated sugar: 2 tablespoons (25 g , .88 oz.)
Egg whites: 5 (Have at room temperature)

1. Preheat the oven to 200°F (93°C). Combine the confectioners’ sugar and almond flour in a medium bowl. If grinding your own nuts, combine nuts and a cup of confectioners’ sugar in the bowl of a food processor and grind until nuts are very fine and powdery.

2. Beat the egg whites in the clean dry bowl of a stand mixer until they hold soft peaks. Slowly add the granulated sugar and beat until the mixture holds stiff peaks.

3. Sift a third of the almond flour mixture into the meringue and fold gently to combine. If you are planning on adding zest or other flavorings to the batter, now is the time. Sift in the remaining almond flour in two batches. Be gentle! Don’t overfold, but fully incorporate your ingredients.

4. Spoon the mixture into a pastry bag fitted with a plain half-inch tip (Ateco #806). You can also use a Ziploc bag with a corner cut off. It’s easiest to fill your bag if you stand it up in a tall glass and fold the top down before spooning in the batter.

5. Pipe one-inch-sized (2.5 cm) mounds of batter onto baking sheets lined with nonstick liners (or parchment paper).

6. Bake the macaroon for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and raise the temperature to 375°F (190°C). Once the oven is up to temperature, put the pans back in the oven and bake for an additional 7 to 8 minutes, or lightly colored.

7. Cool on a rack before filling.

The 2009 October Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to us by Ami S. She chose macarons from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern as the challenge recipe.

rewind

By 9 o'clock yesterday morning, I wanted to press the rewind button and return to the previous night when we fed our son L his first meatball. His lactose intolerant stomach was upset by a little Parmesan cheese rolled into the meat.

Just a tiny bit of cheese, we thought, maybe he's outgrown it. Tiny or not, cheese matters and none of us slept more than 2 hours at a time. By 5 am, L tore off his diaper in bed and left some of the smeary contents on his legs and linens. Sorry L. Rewind. No meatballs plus a long nap, for everyone.

Earlier in the week, I asked L to pick out a sugar pumpkin so that I could bake a loaf of tea bread. Actually, he picked out about a dozen or so bright orange fruits, but we left the farm with only one.

I baked the pumpkin and then pureed it while L wandered around the kitchen picking books off the shelf: The Tawny Scrawny Lion, Bookbinding, Another Way of Telling, and The Art of War. He ate a few pear slices, leafed through the books, and then got up and danced to Willie Dixon. I mixed the batter and placed the loaf in the oven.

After the pumpkin bread cooled, I cut L a small slice. He ran into the living room, danced around, and then returned for more. Maybe you will too.

White Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread

(printable recipe)

Yield 1 loaf (9 x 5 x 3-inch pan), 8 to 10 slices

2 cups whole wheat pastry flour

1/2 cup almonds (ground fine)

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

1 cup pumpkin or sweet winter squash puree

1/4 cup coconut oil

1/2 cup pure maple syrup (plus extra for brushing on the loaf)

1/4 cup soy milk

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/2 cup walnuts (toasted and chopped)

1 cup white chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 375 F. Line the bottom of a loaf pan with parchment paper and brush the sides with oil.

Whisk dry ingredients together in a large mixing bowl; set aside. In a small mixing bowl, whisk wet ingredients together. Stir wet ingredients into dry just until the batter is smooth. Fold in the walnuts and white chocolate chips.

Pour the batter into the loaf pan and gently smooth the top. Bake until loaf tests done, is risen and pulls away from the sides of the pan, about 33 to 35 minutes. Brush the loaf with maple syrup and bake for another 6 minutes.

Cool loaf on a wire rack for 10 minutes then turn loaf out to cool completely.

(This recipe is inspired by several different pumpkin tea breads: Christina Pirello's Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Whole Foods but Were Afraid to Ask, Meredith McCarthy's Sweet and Natural, and Fran Costigan's More Great Good Dairy-Free Desserts).

the wait

"So, what do you think of the Pho?" D asked. We sat across from each other at the newly opened Pho Noodle Shop. The Pho craze spread as far as our rural neighborhood. There must be something to this dish.

I dipped a small ladle into the bowl of steaming vegetable noodle soup.

"Kind of bland," I replied. I pushed through a tangle of bean sprouts and squeezed a few more drops of sriracha hot chili sauce on top. The broth was flat, even with the added spice. So I poured on soy sauce hoping for more flavor depth. Better, not great.

That was two years ago. We went through a dry pho spell. Until this past week.

I cooked a pot of Jaden's homemade Vietnamese pho, and I must admit, it was worth the wait.

The October 2009 Daring Cooks’ challenge was brought to us by Jaden of the blog Steamy Kitchen. The recipes are from her new cookbook, The Steamy Kitchen Cookbook.

Pho is a traditional North Vietnamese dish, often served on the streets. It is a hearty main course, simple yet complex.

The foundation of this soup relies on quality broth (especially homemade) and toasted spices. Scoop some rice noodles into the broth and top with fresh bean sprouts, shaved red onions, and lime juice. Top it off with fresh lime juice, hoisin sauce, and sriracha.

Who needs the noodle shop. I have a pot of pho waiting on the dinner table that is anything but bland.

*To make a vegetarian pho, replace the chicken broth with a mushroom stock made from wood ear and shitake mushrooms, mirepoix (onions, carrots, and celery), fresh parsley, bay leaves, and kombu. Replace the chicken breast with one pound of tofu and the fish sauce with soy sauce.

Challenge #1: Vietnamese Chicken Pho

Recipe Source: Jaden of Steamy Kitchen from her new book The Steamy Kitchen Cookbook.

Equipment:

• Frying pan
• Large stockpot
• Tongs
• Strainer, sieve or colander
• Bowls for serving

Preparation Time: 45 cooking time + 15 minutes to cook noodles based on package directions

Servings: Makes 4 servings

Ingredients:

For the Chicken Pho Broth:
2 tbsp. whole coriander seeds
4 whole cloves
2 whole star anise
2 quarts (2 liters/8 cups/64 fluid ounces) store-bought or homemade chicken stock
1 whole chicken breast (bone in or boneless)
½ onion
1 3-inch (7.5 cm) chunk of ginger, sliced and smashed with side of knife
1 to 2 tbsps. sugar
1 to 2 tbsps. fish sauce

1 lb. (500 grams/16 ounces) dried rice noodles (about ¼ inch/6 mm wide)

Accompaniments:

2 cups (200 grams/7 ounces) bean sprouts, washed and tails pinched off
Fresh cilantro (coriander) tops (leaves and tender stems)
½ cup (50 grams/approx. 2 ounces) shaved red onions
½ lime, cut into 4 wedges
Sriracha chili sauce
Hoisin sauce
Sliced fresh chili peppers of your choice

Directions:

1. To make the Chicken Pho Broth: heat a frying pan over medium heat. Add the coriander seeds, cloves and star anise and toast until fragrant, about 3-4 minutes. Immediately spoon out the spices to avoid burning.
2. In a large pot, add all the ingredients (including the toasted spices) and bring to a boil.
3. Reduce the heat to medium-low and let simmer for 20 minutes, skimming the surface frequently.
4. Use tongs to remove the chicken breasts and shred the meat with your fingers, discarding the bone if you have used bone-in breasts.
5. Taste the broth and add more fish sauce or sugar, if needed. Strain the broth and discard the solids.
6. Prepare the noodles as per directions on the package.
7. Ladle the broth into bowls. Then divide the shredded chicken breast and the soft noodles evenly into each bowl.
8. Have the accompaniments spread out on the table. Each person can customize their own bowl with these ingredients.

For the second Daring Cooks' challenge, I made a yogurt chip napoleon. Layer one fried wonton wrapper with whipped homemade yogurt cheese, vanilla bean, lemon juice, honey, and shaved chocolate with almonds, add a second fried wonton and repeat. Garnish it with powdered sugar and plain dark chocolate shavings. It's a twist on the challenge that tastes like a deconstructed vanilla chocolate chip yogurt cone. Ahh, summer.

Challenge #2: Chocolate Wontons

Recipe Source: Jaden of Steamy Kitchen from her new book The Steamy Kitchen Cookbook.

Equipment:

• Small bowl
• Pastry brush
• Plastic wrap and/or damp paper towels
• Wok or medium-sized pot
• Frying thermometer (if you don’t have a thermometer, you can test the oil temperature by dropping in a cube of bread … if it browns quickly, the oil is ready)

Preparation time: 15 minutes + 15 minutes cooking time (for 12 wontons)

Servings: Makes 12 wontons.

Ingredients:

1 large egg
1 tbsp. water
12 wonton wrappers, defrosted (keep wrappers covered with damp towel)
12 pieces or nuggets of chocolate (use any type of chocolate you like)
High-heat oil for frying (i.e., vegetable oil, corn oil)
Confectioners’ sugar (icing sugar) for sprinkling

Directions:

1. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg and water to make an egg wash.
2. On a clean, dry surface lay 1 wonton wrapper down with a point toward you, like a diamond.
3. Place 1 piece of chocolate near the top end of the wrapper.
4. Brush a very thin layer of the egg wash on the edges of the wrapper.
5. Fold the bottom corner of the wrapper up to create a triangle and gently press to remove all air from the middle. Press the edges to adhere the sides. Make sure the wrapper is sealed completely.
6. Repeat with the remaining wrappers and chocolate pieces.
7. Keep the folded chocolate wontons covered under plastic wrap or a damp paper towel to prevent them from drying.
8. In a wok or medium pot, pour in 2 inches (5 cm.) of high-heat oil.
9. Heat the oil to 350º F (180º C) and gently slide a few of the chocolate wontons into the hot oil. Make sure you don’t crowd the chocolate wontons.
10. Fry the wontons for 1 ½ minutes, then flip over and fry another minute until both sides are golden brown and crisp.

Autumn soup

A large pot of soup simmers on the stove. Butternut squash. Cannellini beans. Red onions.

Slow cooked and spiced with bay leaves, maple syrup, sage, and nutmeg.

The beans cook into a mild cream alongside the nutty sweet butternut squash. It is warm and comforting like the sun bursting through paper-thin curtains on a brisk autumn day.

Top off the soup with a spoonful of creme fraiche and serve it with thick slices of country-style toast brushed with olive oil.

p.s. Double the soup for more leftovers, since it is especially good the next day.

White Bean and Butternut Squash Soup

(printable recipe)

inspired by The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters and Chef Paul Hathaway's Roasted Garlic and Butternut Squash Soup served at Chez Albert in Amherst, Massachusetts

Yield 4 to 6 servings; 2 quarts

1 cup dried cannellini beans

3 cups vegetable stock (homemade or quality low-sodium brand)

4 cups water

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons butter

3 red onions (sliced thin)

4 sage leaves (plus 4-6 more for optional garnish)

2 bay leaves (1 for tenderizing beans and 1 for flavoring soup)

1 medium butternut squash (peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes)

1/8 cup pure maple syrup

2 pinches nutmeg

sea salt and black pepper

optional garnish

4-6 sage leaves (fried)

1/2 cup canola oil

a few pinches of sea salt

creme fraiche (spoon, to taste)

Soak beans in 4 cups water overnight. Drain the soaking water and put beans in a large pot the vegetable stock, water, and 1 bay leaf. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer until the beans are very soft. Cook beans for at least 1 hour. Season to taste with salt and pepper; set aside.

Heat in a dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pan the olive oil and butter. Add the sliced onions, sage leaves, and 1 bay leaf. Cook over medium heat for 15 minutes or until tender. Stir in the prepared squash along with a few pinches of sea salt; cook for 5-10 minutes.

Drain the beans and add 6 cups of their cooking liquid to the squash mixture. Simmer until the squash becomes tender. Add the beans and continue cooking until the squash is very soft. Discard the bay leaves. Add the maple syrup and nutmeg and season to taste with salt and pepper. Puree the soup, if you like, with an immersion blender in the pot, leaving it a bit chunky or put some or all of the soup (once it has cooled) into a blender and puree until smooth.

For the optional garnish, fry up the remaining 4-6 sage leaves in a small cast iron skillet with the canola oil. Turn the leaves and fry until crisp, about 30 seconds. Remove the sage leaves and salt them right away. Top each bowl with creme fraiche and sage.

inside the city

Piles of hand written recipes, magazines, and to do lists cover my desk in a threatening, "we will take over and swallow your computer whole, and you too if you don't deal with us soon," sort of way. In the pile is David Lynch's 2006 film, Inland Empire. I decide to watch it at 9 pm on Sunday night.

As a fan of Lynch's films, I should know better than to watch one right before going to bed. They are beautiful haunting mysteries that enter my dreams and stay with me for days and weeks at at time.

Inland Empire, or the first half I saw before falling asleep, unfolds like a narrative painting dissolving in fragments of time. Make that multiple narrative paintings.

This film is shot with a low-tech digital video camera and hand-held, the limitations of the camera itself adds to the surreal dreamy quality of the storyline.

I cannot get this early scene out of my head. It reads like a short art film. A mother, father, and son wear rabbits heads and speak in strange lines. The scene views at angle looking down, so the characters are distant and shadowy, it almost feels like looking inside an aquarium.

It's no wonder stoic animals speak in non sequiturs with blurry faces have shown up in my dreams.

Three days later, the film is still partially seen. The paper stacks grow taller by the day. I have so much more to tell you. Paper and film must wait.

I'm back from San Francisco with photographs and stories.

We leave for California early Friday morning and return late Tuesday night. Our first night, we eat at Korean food at Mom's Tofu House on Grand Avenue in south San Francisco for dinner. I order BiBimBop and give my son, L, a few pieces of tofu which he throws on the ground along with his first bites of organic jarred baby food. Do you want oatmeal, I ask. The server brings a cup of hot water. I stir it into the instant oats and within seconds of it cooling, he flings it in the air.

Flying food is not on the agenda.

As it turns out, neither is breakfast at Tartine Bakery & Cafe, or dinner at Zuni Cafe and Chez Panisse. Such is life with a toddler, plans change.

The BlogHer Food conference is all-day on Saturday. Sam of Becks and Posh leads an early morning hike around the city. Alice of Alice Q Foodie, Leena of Leena Eats, and Alanna of Kitchen Parade and A Veggie Venture. Visit their blogs, they are smart, funny, and talented.

So much information is given during the three sessions that during my breaks it's a relief to meet up with my mister, D and L and think only about where to eat for lunch. The Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market is a must-see. After tasting my first sweet pink pluot, we find Tacolicious, a Mexican food stand and eat our best meal in San Francisco: hand made corn chips smothered in a bath of hot sauce, scrambled eggs, spicy refried pinto beans, a ginger peach tea, and a melon agua fresca.

On Sunday morning, we drive to the Mission district in search of the famed Tartine bakery. There is a long line of people draped around the entrance like a colorful woven tapestry in lieu of an official sign. It does not look promising, long lines, a teething child, and a three hour time change means an impending toddler break down. We circle the block for thirty minutes and still no parking spaces open up. Forget this. We head to Berkeley just to 'see' Chez Panisse, since I know both their restaurant and cafe are closed on Sunday.

Since this is my first trip to Berkeley we decide to tour the town by foot. We park several miles away from UC Berkeley's campus and stop by a cafe for chai tea and directions to the Shattuck Avenue locale.

The sun is unforgiving, we find our way up Telegraph Hill, poached from the heat. After multiple blisters from walking in the wrong shoes, we finally arrive at Chez Panisse and I am ready for a new pair of shoes and a table inside. I feel as if I have found my way to the fresh organic food mecca, which is a kicker because it's closed.

A woman stands nearby and tells her two companions that Alice Waters lives only a ten minute walk away and that she knows someone who knows Alice who can secure them a table for dinner Monday night. Sweet. Wish it could be ours.

They leave. We linger over the menu.

We leave hungry and tired, but it hardly matters. We have found mecca and next time we will arrive by car and with a reservation.