The latest in the 52 weeks in film project.

Still Lifes.

week 6-lemon still life

Yesterday, I went to see photographer Jerry Uelsmann’s (born 1934) 50 year photography retrospective at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem. His images are all made in the darkroom, often by using several enlargers and multiple negatives. The images are surreal with a floating pair of women’s lips surfacing on a treelined path, as in a Rene Magritte painting or a Man Ray photograph. Ueselmann’s work remains in dialogue with the surrealist movement, and yet his style is entirely his own.

week 7-after (part 1)

What we can learn from his work is how he uses both art history, technique, and his unique vision to create works of art. It’s also important to see artwork as it’s intended to be experienced, in this case, in person to learn how the artist printed a photograph so that the blackest blacks fall into a pool of detailess shadow or how a film was shot with minimal light then shown forward and backward so that a man eats then purges a plate of spaghetti in succint time.

week 7-after (part 2)

One of the first lessons to learn when talking about a photograph or work of art is that it’s not enough to simply say, I like it or I don’t like it, but to offer first a physical description of the work and then to delve deeper into what elements do and do not work. Uelsmann is an important figure in the history of photography as he challenged conventional ideas about what the medium was capable of and by doing so, he altered the language of photography with his poetic vision.

What photography show(s) have you seen recently?

Also, I recently discovered a new food blog I’m completely smitten with (and it’s not because they recently featured Art and Lemons there either). Written by Dan Rosenberg, the editorial director at Harvard Common Press,  blogEATS  is smart, witty, and entertaining. It unravels the latest in the world of food blogs and it’s one to pay attention to.

Okay. Let’s back to photo craft today.

If you’re a regular here, you may recall the first in the series, 5 Essential Photography Tips You Probably Know, but Still Need to Remember. If not, give it a quick read—and don’t worry, we’ve saved you a seat at the table, the coffee is hot, your cup awaits.

I deliberated a bit about how much information to cover in this post. I could go on at eye-rolling head drifting off into the clouds lengths about the ins and outs of getting to know you cameras, but I’ll keep it as brief as I can and spare you the zone system (this time…).

Since I don’t want to leave anyone out of the conversation, I’m starting with a sweeping overview and as the series progress, I’ll delve deeper into technical matters. Sound good?

What you should remember, above all, is that learning these craft fundamentals helps to develop your visual voice. No matter what level you’re at right now, if you continue to practice the craft daily, your voice will show up in your work and grow stronger with each photograph you make.

Lesson 2. Photo Craft: A date with your camera (in four parts).

Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst.—Henri Cartier-Bresson

Part I. Camera Types (a starting point):

Since we all shoot with different and often multiple camera types, I’m going to give a brief run down on five basic models. Hopefully you’ve read your camera manual(s) (nudge, nudge).

DSLR/SLR. DSLR (digital single lens reflex)/SLR (single lens reflex) cameras are more or less the same, except that a DSLR records images onto a digital sensor whereas a SLR records images on negative or positive film. The larger the sensor (where all the individual pixels are stored) or film is—the better the image quality and the lower the noise level will be. Modern D/SLR cameras with automatic and manual capabilities let you control as little or as much as you like by choosing different camera settings and lenses depending on the desired outcome. For DSLRs,  sensor—the more pixels That’s a bit vague, but we’ll get into the photography fundamentals in a minute.

My first SLR was a Pentax K-1000, all manual no auto anything, which I still adore and shoot with. If you’re seriously interested in shooting with film, I recommend adding it to your collection.

Compact (digital and film) cameras. These cameras produce snapshots at the ready, press the button, and your work is done. Not so fast there—many compact cameras offer control over your aperture, shutter speed, and flash. Some perform better than others in low light conditions without a flash, so this should be tested particularly with digital models in which the images taken with a high ISO in low light can get really noisy because of their small sensors.

A few classic film compacts worth looking into are: Olympus u-II, Yashica T4, Contax T2 and T3, and Nikon 35Ti

Camera phones. With the exception of the iPhone4s (which has 8 megapixels and a print size up to 8×10-inches with 1080 p HD video recording capabilities), most camera phones have fixed focus lenses and smaller sensors than DSLRs. The quality of images made in low light conditions on a camera phone tend to be noisy and pixelated, however, if this is intention, use it. Of course with any smartphone, apps and filters are used to get the exposure and look you want for an image. Go to sites for iPhone users include Instagram (a photosharing site for iPhone users), Instagram’s blog, and iPhonography (a blog about all things to do with the iPhone).

Toy cameras. Mostly made from plastic, toy cameras, fall on the opposite end of slick high-resolution cameras. Some have interchangeable lens (like the newer Dianas and Holgas) and each one has it’s own set of quirks and light leaks to contend with, but once you learn how to work with them, the images made with them can be stunning.

Instant (Polaroid or Fuji Instax) cameras. As their name suggests, these cameras produce a single unique print with each click of the shutter, thereby making the resulting one-off images a bit more precious and expensive to work with. Polaroid stopped making cameras and film in 2008 and since then the Impossible Project has worked to bring Polaroid film back to the market. Fuji, however, produces instant film for their line of cameras that may or may not work in a Polaroid camera depending on the model.

Part II. Photography Fundamentals:

Composition—know what’s inside your frame. You can create interesting composition in a number of ways, one, follow the rule of thirds. Pick up your camera and look through the viewfinder/screen. Imagine there is an overlaying grid on top dividing the screen into thirds on both horizontally and vertically. Now imagine lining up whatever interests you inside the frame along these lines or where they intersect. Keep this handy tool in your visual memory and learn to shoot with it in mind.

Focus—make it work for you. Again with the manual (it’s like being in gym class folks, I’m going to make you sweat until you crack it open), you’ll need to read it in order to know how your particular camera focuses, but here’s three main ways to do so: zone focus (if your camera has and is set to zone focus, you need to know the distance between the camera and subject to determine what will fall in and out of focus), manual focus (like the name says, you look through the viewfinder and turn the focusing ring—some cameras have a split screen focusing system with a circle in the center of the screen that lines up when the image is in focus), and autofocus (single focus—best for still subjects since it focuses once before the shutter is released; continuous focus—good for moving subjects since it will continue to refocus; and intelligent focus—the camera makes the choice in the mode as to whether the subject is still or moving). Many cameras allow you to press the shutter button halfway or fully down to preview what’s in focus. Also with autofocus, many newer cameras have a number of focusing points (3 to 30) to choose from and may on the default setting, pick the focusing point for you. In comparison, older camera models have only one in the middle of the frame. You can also lock your focus in single shot autofocus mode: point your camera toward your subject, press the shutter button halfway down, then press the shutter fully down when you’re happy with the composition. To make another photograph using focus lock, repeat these steps.

Exposure—exposing the film or digital sensor inside a camera to the desired amount of light. With too much light, your photo will be too bright and overexposed; too little light and your photo will be too dark and underexposed. Aperture, Shutter Speed, and ISO ratings all affect how much light reaches the film or sensor, so you if you want to make a photograph instead of letting one happen to you, listen up and take control.

ISO Rating—a measure of how sensitive a film or digital sensor is to light. A low ISO, say 50 or 100 (great for full sun or bright lights) requires a lot of light to make an image whereas a high ISO, say 1600 or 3200 (great for night-time shots) needs very little light to make an image. Lower ISO ratings render higher quality images while higher ISO ratings render lower quality images, more noise and less color saturation.

Aperture—a camera lens has an aperture or opening that allows more or less light in as you open or close it. The trick with aperture is to remember that as the aperture hole gets bigger, it’s f-number measure gets smaller, for example, f/1.8 is a bigger opening and lets in more light than f/11. Think of aperture like the pupil in an eye—on bright sunny days it shrinks to allow less light in. In short, a small f-number gives a big hole that lets in more light, and a big f-number gives a small hole and lets in less light. 

Shutter Speed—refers to how long a film or digital sensor is exposed to light and is measured in fractions of a second. To stop motion, you’ll need to use a fast shutter speed, anything above 1/250 second. To blur motion, use a slow shutter speed. To avoid camera shake with a low shutter speed, the general rule (I break this all the time, by the way) is your shutter speed measure shouldn’t go below the focal length of your lens—if you’re shooting with a 50mm lens, don’t set your shutter speed below 1/50 second. The longer the lens, the faster the shutter speed you’ll need to avoid unwanted camera shake. Lower shutter speeds mean you need to pull out your tripod or come up with a make shift one like a pilsner glass, stack of books, chair (you get the idea). If your lens has an image stabilizer on, use it for hand held shots, however it can cause camera shake on a tripod so be sure to turn it off for those stabilized still shots.

F-stops—every time you change either the aperture or shutter speed, you are halving or doubling the amount of light (measured in f-stops) coming into the camera. Say what? Wait, I know this seems unnecessarily complex, but trust me, you need to understand this. Let me explain. Closing the aperture by 1 stop halves the amount of light coming into the camera; opening it by 1 stop doubles it and the same goes for shutter speed—changing the shutter speed will either half or double the time the shutter is open for. Some cameras will also let you change aperture and shutter speeds by 1/2 or 1/3 stops for even finer tuned exposures.

Shooting mode—if you’re shooting with a DSLR, SLR, or a compact camera, set the mode (for now at least) to full Manual mode. I’m a manual shooter and while you don’t have to full suit, it’s the best way to learn the fundamentals of photography, so give it a go. Aperture and Shutter Priority have their places—use AP when you want to control the depth of field: set the aperture and allow the camera to choose the shutter speed to get a balanced (according to the camera’s settings) exposure. Use shutter priority when you want to capture motion, either by freezing or blurring it.

Depth of Field—aperture controls depth of field or how much of your picture, in front or behind what you are focusing on,  is in focus. To create a shallow depth of field with little in focus, open up the aperture (set it to a lower f number like f/1.8). At f/1.8, your attention is drawn to a small part of an image since the rest of the background and foreground are blurred. To create a deeper depth of field, close down the aperture (set it to a higher f number like f/11).

Light meters—either in or off camera, light meters are used to determine the correct (and desired) exposure for a given scene. Cameras or light meters measure light in three modes: average, spot, and center-weighted. Older film cameras typically use average metering, which averages out the light coming from all areas to come up with a balanced exposure. When the light is consistent, average metering works well. Spot metering measures light from a small part of a scene, roughly 1 to 5%, which lets you set the exposure for that area only. Center-weighted metering is similar to spot metering, with the exception that it reads 60 to 80% of the image at the center of the frame plus it accounts for a little light that falls around the edges.

Bibliography. Meredith, Kevin. PhotoOp: 52 Inspirational Projects for the Adventurous Image-Maker, Boston: Elsevier, 2010.

Part III. The Wrap: photography rules—know them, use them, break them.

Next time, we’re going to look at photographs and learn how to create a unique visual voice (hint, shoot shoot shoot).

Part IV. Photo Prompt—Capturing the Everyday:

Carry a camera with you everywhere you go for 1 week (you probably already do this—don’t stop, okay). Think of your camera as a sketchbook. Try to challenge yourself to see your life in new ways as if you were an outsider looking in. What do you notice? Where is the light? Where are the shadows? What’s inside your frame? Photograph what you obsess over. Photograph what you despise. Photograph what puts you to sleep. Put yourself into the frame, a little or a lot.

Go, go, go and when your finished, leave a link to your photos—I want to read your photo stories!

This is for you, Valentine.

Hope you like the mix.

Turntable Heart from artandlemons on 8tracks.

Lots of love,

n.

Turntable Heart (February 2012)

1. Love You by Syd Barrett
2. Love You To by The Beatles
3. Venus in Furs by Devotchka
4. Oh Oh I Love Her So by The Ramones
5. La La Love You by Pixies
6. I Love You by The Zombies
7. Soul Love by David Bowie
8. Who Do You Love by The Jesus & Mary Chain
9. A Martyr For My Love For You by The White Stripes
10. Zodiac Love Team by Girls Against Boys
11. Feeling Called Love by Wire
12. No Love Lost by Joy Division
13. Love Buzz by Nirvana
14. Down Love by Paul Westerberg
15. I’m Always In Love by Wilco
16. Got Love If You Want It by The Kinks
17. Femme Fatale by Big Star
18. Sea of Love by Cat Power

p.s. I’m revisiting a recent favorite recipe over at BlogHer today, homemade croutons and caesar salad, so stop by if you like and say hello.

He’s a good sport, don’t you think?

The Mister (1/2), from 52 Weeks in Film: week 5—portraits.

The Mister (2/2), from 52 Weeks in Film: week 5—portraits.

Yes, this is indeed how we roll in the nether hills of wintery New England…

I think you might like this rockin’ podcast by The Mister’s friend Mike Edwards that I recently discovered—give it a spin.

Next week’s Photo Craft post is going to be EPIC, so stay tuned.

p.s. I’m over at Design Sponge’s In The Kitchen With column today. Stop by if you like to see my Banana Rum Fritters with Maple Walnut Cream Sauce photos and recipe in all of their sweet boozy glory.

Dear Friends,

I spent last week eating more cake than one should reasonably be allowed to consume. I baked two cakes, one double chocolate and one carrot, for a cake competition, I made six cakes in seven days—nearly a cake a day!

cake competition: behind the scenes

To be clear, we froze most of it and I did have help with what was left to sample, but after burying my fork into three heavily frosted pieces of chocolate cake and after the hundreds of frosting swipes eaten just before and after an ill-timed dentist appointment, I was done for.

My aching teeth and tender sugar dosed gums screeched, Enough already, enough, put your fork and frosting swiper (aka index finger) down—we surrender!

I’m not one for entering baking competitions. Fancy cakes made in the shape of a sleeping child, horse carousel, or a flowering tree stump to recall several of the mind-bending entries, are entirely beyond me. I appreciate the artistry, of course, but the reason I bake a cake is for the pure pleasure of cutting into it then serving it to those who gather at the table with me. Cake that begs to eaten and made a mess of is my kind of cake.

cake competition: double chocolate cake

A plain chocolate or carrot cake dusted with powdered sugar suits me just fine. For fancier occasions, a bittersweet chocolate or lemon frosting spread with a spoon and covered with chocolate shavings or lemon twists brings plenty of delight. Still, an excuse to bake cake was reason enough so naturally I jumped in as any good hedonist would, spoon first.

I also chose the most difficult category to enter: gluten free and vegan—according to the entry form, the cake had to be both. If you bake, you know this is no small feat. Gluten-free baking without eggs can easily become readymade compost. Measurements need to be spot on and for cakes, I like to use whipped tofu or blended flax seeds with water as egg replacements since they both act as binding and rising agents. I went the tofu route and I must say, the chocolate cake turned out to be both brownie and cake-like, a new one to add to the cake rotation.

I can’t tell you who won the cake competition, it’s still a secret. I left before the judges cut into them. An entire week dedicated to cake and frosting was worth the effort (and toothache) no matter what they decided.

This recipe is both vegan and gluten-free, but if you don’t have issues with gluten flour and would like to use pastry flour, feel free to replace it in equal measure and take out the xanthan gum. The bittersweet chocolate frosting adds a whisper of almonds to the cake that is downright addictive—be sure to leave some for the cake and perhaps a graham cracker sandwich if you’re a light cake froster.

Double Chocolate Cake
Makes one 9-inch round layer cake

Vegan butter or oil for lining the cake pans
½ cup unsweetened full-fat soymilk
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
4 ounces very good bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
2 cups Gluten-Free Baking Flour Mix (like King Arthur’s G-F Multi-Purpose Flour)
1 ½ teaspoons xanthan gum
2 teaspoons baking soda
½ teaspoon sea salt
6 tablespoons very good cocoa powder
1/3 cup canola oil
2 ½ cups brown sugar
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
½ cup Firm Silken Tofu (process in a blender until completely smooth)
1 cup boiling water
frost with bittersweet chocolate frosting

Preheat the oven to 350F.

Butter two 9-inch cake pans and line the bottoms with parchment paper. Butter the paper and dust with the flour mix, shaking out the extra flour.

Measure the soymilk in a 1-cup liquid measuring cup and add the apple cider vinegar to the milk to “sour” it (as you would to make your own buttermilk); keep at room temperature and set aside.

Put the chocolate in a metal bowl. Set the bowl over a pan of simmering water (make sure the water does not touch the bowl). Turn off the heat. Stir the chocolate now and then until it’s silky smooth and melted. Remove the bowl from over the pan; set aside.

Sift the flour, xanthan gum, baking soda, salt and cocoa powder together in a medium bowl.

In a stand mixer or with a hand-held mixer, mix the oil, sugar, and vanilla together on medium speed. Add in the blended tofu and mix until very smooth. Add the melted chocolate and mix. Add half the dry ingredients to this mixture, then add the “soured” soymilk and mix until fully incorporated. Mix in the other half of the dry ingredients. Gradually pour in the boiling water and be sure to mix it well.

Since this recipe is gluten-free, you don’t need to worry about overworking the batter, and in fact, the cake will fare better with extra mixing.

Pour the batter into the prepared cake pans and bake for 45 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Place the pan on a wire rack and allow the cake to cool completely. Run a knife around the edge of the pan to loosen the cake. Remove the cake from the pan and peel off the parchment paper. To serve, frost each layer with bittersweet chocolate frosting.

Bittersweet Chocolate Frosting
Makes enough to frost one 9-inch round layer cake

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
3 cups powdered sugar
½ cup (1 stick) vegan butter (like Earth Balance)
½ cup unsweetened full-fat soymilk
¼ cup smooth almond butter (no salt or sugar added)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon sea salt
Put the chocolate in a metal bowl. Set the bowl over a pan of simmering water (make sure the water does not touch the bowl). Turn off the heat. Stir the chocolate now and then until it’s silky smooth and melted. Remove the bowl from over the pan; set aside and let cool to room temperature.

In a stand mixer or with a hand-held mixer, combine the powdered sugar, butter, soymilk, almond butter, vanilla, and salt in a bowl and beat on low speed until combined, about 1 minute. Stop the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula. Increase the speed to medium and beat for 2 minutes, then reduce the speed to low. Add the chocolate and beat until combined, then increase the speed to medium and beat for 1 minute more.

Hello, there. It’s been a long week. I baked two cakes:chocolate and carrot in preparation for a cake contest tomorrow, helped Luke recover from a mean cold, worked and somewhere in the middle of all that, I found a few things I thought you might like.

52 weeks in film: week 4

A list for Friday: a mix of this and that to get you through the day.

I’ve been…

listening to this mix made by bryan of the blue hour

loving this polaroid made by little postcards

reading Labyrinth, a short story written by Roberto Bolano published in a recent New Yorker issue—the story is pure genius—told from a narrator who as he looks at a photograph, imagines the entangled lives of the eight people seated at the table

watching how to make classic pesto over at Kinfolk

planning what to cook first from these books Inspired Vegan, Ancient Grains for Modern Meals, Bean by Bean, Ripe (available in March)

thinking this gooey apple upside-down cake and this lemon ricotta pine nut cake (that Jess introduced me to) both deserve a place at the table

mixing starter together for this walnut & rye sourdough bread (if you haven’t broken into the sourdough bread scene yet, here’s your chance—check out Tara’s sourdough starter to learn the basics)

wishing for an iPhone but for those of you who have one, you’ll want to check out Stephanie Roberts’ new book, The Art of iPhonography filled with apps and plenty of how-to’s to get you snappin’ away

More cake and photo talk soon.

I was seven when I first learned to cook. After years of sitting on counters with the cooks in my family, mostly my mother and grandmother, I picked up basic kitchen skills like how to scramble an egg, put together a plate of cheese and sausage (back when I ate cured meats with abandon), and make a giant bowl of peanut butter honey popcorn.

While the women in my family taught me how to bake and cook, my grandfather taught me the finer art of snack-making. The man could also clean and fry a fresh caught bluegill or bass on the spot, but it was his homemade chocolates, peanut brittle, and buttered popcorn that called to me.

kitchen craft: popcorn from Nikki Gardner on Vimeo. music by Dick Dale from “Guitar Legend: The Very Best of Dick Dale,” Nitro.

He stood over the kitchen stove every Sunday night churning the red wood handle on the big black kettle until the last kernel of corn had popped. The popcorn cooled as a stick of butter collapsed in a saucepan. He poured it over the corn and added just enough salt to coat each of the hundred some popped kernels. Other than butter, he measured the popcorn, oil, and salt without measuring them. He didn’t need to. Looking at the shallow reservoir of canola oil in the kettle and the weight of kernels in his hands was enough.

Week after week, he made and stored popcorn in a large tin next to his green leather recliner in the family room where we ate our way through the tin and watched T.V. I sat with him through an episode of 60 Minutes then Dynasty or some other serial show that put me right to sleep.

After spending a weekend with my grandparents, I went home and made popcorn. Instead of butter, I melted honey and peanut butter and poured it on top. I came up with this almond butter version that pairs olive oil, orange zest, honey, and coarse sea salt last week when we were all craving nutty caramel corn. I’m not sure my grandfather would approve, but I have to say—Sunday night popcorn is making a come back.

Salted Almond and Honey Butter Popcorn
Makes 8 cups

2 tablespoons olive oil (divided)
1/4 cup popcorn
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/2 cup honey
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated orange zest
1/2 cup creamy all-natural almond butter, no salt or sugar added (I use Trader Joe’s raw natural almond butter. If you can only find almond butter with salt and/or sugar, you might want to reduce a bit of both in the recipe, or not depending on your taste)
a pinch of coarse sea salt for sprinkling at the end

Place 1 tablespoon of the oil in a heavy 6-quart pot over medium heat. When the oil is hot (not smoking) add 2 or 3 popcorn kernels and partially cover with a lid so a bit of steam escapes. Once the kernels pop, add the rest of the popcorn and shake and move the pan constantly until the popping stops then remove from the heat.

Pour the popcorn into a large serving bowl. Sprinkle the popcorn with the fine sea salt and the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Mix lightly to combine; set aside.

Stir the honey, brown sugar, and orange zest together in a 2-quart saucepan over medium heat. Allow the mixture to come to a boil then lower the heat and simmer for a few minutes until the syrup thickens a little. Remove from the heat and quickly stir in the almond butter to fully combine.

Pour the almond butter mixture over the popcorn immediately and stir well with a wooden spoon to evenly coat all the popcorn (I often use the spoon and my hands which can be pretty hot, so if you don’t have restaurant/kitchen hands, use the spoon only). Sprinkle the popcorn with a pinch of coarse sea salt. Let the popcorn sit until it’s cooled to the touch, about 10 minutes or so, depending on how long you can wait.

from the 52 Weeks in Film project, week 3.

found: in stitches

Months ago, on a Saturday afternoon long before the freak Halloween snowstorm arrived and knocked our power out for several days, we happened to drive by a road side farm stand. The farm stand was set on a gravel lot next to a corner car dealership. There were half a dozen 4 x 4 foot wood crates filled with the usual winter squash suspects: blue hubbard, buttercup, butternut, sugar pumpkin. There were palates stacked with yellow onions and bins with green and red peppers and green and purple cabbage too. But, when I saw the fifty-pound bag of potatoes, I saw every sort of potato dish that would get us through winter. As the one vegetable everyone in the house eats, I was thrilled. I bought one large sack of the Yukon Golds and for a moment, contemplated a second.

Last weekend, I decided to dig into the bag and make a potato gratin. I brought my favorite chartreuse green plastic bowl (left at my apartment years ago at a potluck) downstairs and filled it with a pound of potatoes. The supply has dwindled down to about ten pounds or so which at this point is good, a few too many have sprouted eyes and have grown soft to the touch. The winter before when we hauled a winter storage share down to the corner pantry, the carrots and cabbage didn’t make. So I had my reservations about composting another heap of rotten smelly vegetables.

The woman at the stand was spot on. We put the potatoes on a basement shelf stored inside the ventilated paper sack they came in and with the exception of a few gnarly softies; they survived.

Also, I recently learned from my mom who has worked in a number of large kitchens, that if you individually wrap each potato in newspaper, then slip them back into their sack that the paper wrapping prevents the whole bag from rotting if one happens to go. A good tip for us New England dwellers to keep in mind for next winter’s haul.

This gratin recipe is a riff off one I usually make from Bon Appétit for Thanksgiving and occasionally Easter dinner. It employs a similar technique of layering a mix of thinly cut sweet and Yukon Gold potatoes with cheese, salt, and pepper. Next add a layer of cream sauce goes on top and repeat those steps. I suppose that’s where the similarity ends. I came up with a leek and shallot cashew cream seasoned with fresh ground nutmeg along with parsley and thyme leaves. I also use a tofu-based cream cheese in this one, but dairy would be just as nice.

The cashew cream sauce imparts an unexpected richness that I hope you’ll like. We certainly did as the empty dish in the kitchen sink can attest to—if it in fact could speak.

One of the keys to this recipe is to get the potatoes sliced paper-thin with the slicing blade in a food processor or with a mandolin. If neither are available, use the slicing side of a box grater or a sharp knife and try to cut them in even thin slices so they cook evenly and nearly melt into the sauce. The other is the leek and shallot cashew cream sauce. As I the sauce warms in the pan, I like to add the seasonings to taste adding a pinch more salt, a few more thyme leaves, or extra black pepper. I recommend you do the same.

Yukon Gold and Sweet Potato Gratin with Leek & Shallot Cashew Cream Sauce
Makes 4 to 6 hearty servings

3 cups thin cashew cream (1 cup raw cashews ground to a powder then blended in a food processor or blender with 2 cups of water)
2 tablespoons olive oil plus more for baking dish
¼ cup sliced leeks (rinse, cut into rounds, wash in a bowl of water, drain)
¼ cup finely chopped shallots
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 pound sweet potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
1 pound Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 sprigs chopped fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley leaves plus more for garnish
1 ½ cups cream cheese (use your favorite tofu or dairy-based brand, divided)
½ chopped sunflower seeds

Preheat the oven to 375º F. Oil a 3-quart baking dish.

Combine the peeled and sliced potatoes and place in a large bowl of water to prevent the potatoes from browning; set aside.

To make the cashew cream, grind the cashews to a powder in a food processor or a high speed blender, add the water and blend until smooth and creamy; place the cream in a medium size saucepan and gently warm it over low heat.

While the cream warms up, heat the oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the leeks, shallots, and a pinch of salt and pepper and a splash of water; stir and cook for about 5 to 7 minutes until tender, then add them to the saucepan of warm cashew cream. Season the cream with nutmeg, black pepper, the fresh thyme and parsley leaves. Add a few pinches of salt, taste, and adjust the seasoning if needed.

Drain the potatoes, then pat them dry with a kitchen towel. Layer half the potatoes on the bottom of the gratin dish; sprinkle with sea salt and black pepper. Using a teaspoon, scoop the cream cheese then dot the potatoes layer evenly with half the cream cheese. Pour half the cashew cream sauce over the potatoes. Repeat with another potato layer, followed by the other half of the seasoning, cream cheese, and cashew cream sauce. Sprinkle the chopped sunflower seeds evenly over top.

Place the gratin on the middle oven rack and bake, undisturbed until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a knife and the top is browned, about 55 minutes to 1 hour. Garnish with chopped parsley leaves and serve right away or keep warm in the oven.

Hi. I wrote you a letter earlier today. It seemed like a thousand letters that went through my head as I flitted from one task to the next, photo edits, recipes, an essay. Now that I’m actually sitting down to write, I wonder what each little paragraph in flight contained.

I found this blue and white anchor tie knotted around a pole and it made me very happy.

I wanted to confess the kitchen is a terrible mess with an overwhelming number of dishes in the sink after having made two different potato gratins, smoky bean burgers, and a loaf of bread, not to mention the snacks in between. The counters are covered in even more cooking projects. A new batch of sourdough, a bowl of oat flour mix. Then there’s the kitchen table, the resting place for everyone’s notes along with a miniature Christmas tree that neither Luke or I can part with even though it’s been unplugged for weeks.

Seated at the table earlier today, Luke told me stories of a terrible fox. “Oh, honey. Foxes are your friends. They won’t hurt you.” I say. I try to remember what it was like to be so open and vulnerable and honest. As I looked at him, I saw myself, the little ticks he’s adopted from me. He drew a finger to his lip and said, “I was thinking about going to the bookstore later. We can play with trains and look and books and…that sounds like a good idea, right, Mama?”

Oh, yes, I thought. The bookstore is always a good idea and distraction for days like today when I’m slow to write. I sit down once again at the table. The house is quiet. I can hear sluggish raindrops outside. There are days like this one when writing feels more like trying to scrub a white cotton dress dipped in tar with brambles and thorns stuck to it clean. It’s impossible. No matter how much I write, I cannot get to that plain white dress. The simple truth that’s there all along before all the stuff clings to it for fear of being shown. I move from one task to the next, not paying attention as I should be to the letters collecting, because by the time evening comes and ready Luke for bed with Goldilocks and the Three Bears and the Three Billy Goat’s Gruff,  he says, “Papa, can I get up now?” It’s 8:30 p.m. Three going on fourteen.

“Emily Dickinson’s only surviving dress” from Pilgrimage by Annie Leibovitz

Then I remembered this book I wanted to tell you about called Pilgrimage by Annie Leibovitz. It’s bound to keep me up for another late night. If you don’t know Leibovitz’s work, she started her career as a photojournalist for Rolling Stone in 1970 while she was a student at the San Francisco Art Institute. Three years later, she became their main photographer and by the time she left the magazine in 1983, she has shot 142 covers and published photo-essays on a number of subjects including her unforgettable accounts of the resignation of Richard Nixon and of the 1975 Rolling Stones tour. Leibovitz also worked for Vanity Fair, Vogue, and for corporate advertising campaigns. Her portraits of rock musicians and documentations of the social landscape of this country are among the most compelling works to date.

For this book she wasn’t on assignment, nor did she have a particular agenda other than making photographs of places that held meaning for her. She made pictures of objects, rooms, houses, and landscapes. She started with a small digital camera and made photographs of Emily Dickinson’s house in Amherst, Massachusetts, then went on with her three young children to Niagara Falls, New York. “That’s when I started making lists,” she says. Leibovitz photographed Thoreau’s cabin at Walden Pond in Concord. Ralph Waldo Emerson’s home and Orchard House, the same place where Louisa May Alcott and her family lived and worked. She also added Daniel Chester French’s Massachusetts art studio, the photographic archives at Gettysburg, the trails of Yosemite Valley where Ansel Adams worked for 50 years. Most of the photographs were made in America but she also added the English countryside houses of Virginia Woolf and Charles Darwin along with Sigmund Freud’s final home in London and photographer Julia Margaret Cameron’s house on the Isle of Wight. As the project developed, she used larger cameras and a tripod and brought an assistant along. The photographs document Leibovitz’s pilgrimage and while they are inherently about other people’s lives; the photographs tell as much of her own story as those inside the frame.

“From the beginning, when I was watching my children stand mesmerized over Niagara Falls, it was an exercise in renewal,” she says. “It taught me to see again.”

I have a few more books that I think you might like as well.

Birds of Paradise (a novel) by Diana Abu-Jaber. I have 18 pages left to read, so I’ll wait to give you the details.

An Emergency in Slow Motion: The Inner Life of Diane Arbus by William Todd Schultz. A biography about photographer Diane Arbus. It’s my next read.

50 Photographers You Should Know by Peter Stepan. I’ll tell you about a few of the photographers in the next photo post.

and 1 more Annie Leibovitz book because I’m on a roll…

American Music. A collection of her notable portraits of rock musicians.

Next up, that potato gratin with sweet and yukon gold potatoes and a leek and shallot cashew cream sauce that I mentioned earlier.

Night.