Coming Up Daisies

My lady and I recently returned from a short trip south of the border, where we spent the week in Puerto Penasco, Sonora. As luck would have it, the American spring breaks had all ended the week prior, and the Mexican spring break had finished up literally the day before we got there. We only saw two other families in our hotel the entire time, and most of the cantinas and tiendas were equally empty. Needless to say the bartenders and shopkeepers were very happy to see us. We would walk down the street and be hollered at and waved down with menus. Boat crews would offer us great deals on fishing charters or sunset cruises. We were popular with the locals, is what I'm trying to say. But we knew better. We hadn't come there to spend money; we were on a budget. 

We specifically picked a hotel with a full kitchen, just to avoid restaurant and bar markups (which, admittedly, were much lower there than here in the states). We walked right past them all and made a bee line for the fish market. Here we were equally popular, as everyone we passed claimed to have the best camarones or the freshest pescado. We picked up some of both (shrimp and fish) as well as some scallops from a vendor who, while he spoke perfect English, I tried my best to practice my Spanish on. These were to be our meals for the week. 

The next day that fish became our lunch: ceviche
 of flounder, margaritas made with fresh citrus, corn tortillas straight from the tortilleria, and a view of the water. The ceviche was good, and the tortillas were great, but the Margaritas were perfect. It's funny how a Margarita made from scratch at home can be both better and cheaper than it's restaurant-purchased counterpart.

The Margarita

I think its fair to say that we are all familiar with the Margarita. At the very least, most people have imbibed a neon colored tequila drink at some shoddy Mexican restaurant once in their lives. Its history, however, is much more interesting than the drink most people get served. It's hardly traditional to the Mexican culture. In fact, if it weren't for American prohibition, this drink would never have come to be. 

In the late 1800s a cocktail came into vogue known as the Daisy. It was a simple variation on the sour: alcohol, sugar, lemon juice, and orange liqueur. A couple of decades later, after the passing of the 18th amendment, Mexico became the popular place for an American to (legally) get a drink. Wealthy Americans would commonly travel to Mexican resorts to relax and wet their whistle, doing their best to order cocktails they were familiar with at these Mexican restaurants and bars. A little after repeal journalists and other travelers started talking about the "Tequila Daisy" they'd been tippling south of the border. Imagine, if you will, an American customer trying to explain to a Mexican bartender how to make a drink like the Daisy. Of course they'd be starting with tequila, and limes were much more common than lemons in Mexico. (In fact, in Mexico there is no word for lemon, they are simply referred to as a yellow lime, or limon amarillo.) Hmmm... tequila, sugar, lime, orange liqueur... Sounds familiar, right? The icing on the cake: you'll never guess the Spanish translation for "Daisy". That's right, Margarita.

This is the basic recipe I usually start all my Margaritas with. The nice thing about it is that you can use these ratios to make a pitcher for a crowd, or just a few for you and someone special, and it can be easily adjusted to suit individual tastes. I usually try to use only lime juice, but I've made margaritas with various combinations of lemon, lime, even grapefruit with good results. Sometimes I'll include an orange in my citrus juice and omit the orange liqueur entirely for a drink that's fresher and less cloying. (This can be especially handy if you're traveling and don't want to buy a whole bottle of orange liqueur, as was our case, or if you just happen to be all out at home.) You can also use agave nectar in place of the sugar in your simple syrup for a flavor that meshes better with the tequila. Finally, if you have any fresh fruit on hand feel free to muddle it into the rest of the ingredients. I've had good luck with strawberries, blueberries, cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, tangerine, mango, &c. Other flavorings like cilantro or even a little hot sauce can be added too, based on people's preferences.

1 part simple syrup (1:1 water and sugar,  boiled to dissolve then cooled)

1 part citrus juice

2 parts tequila (I find most people prefer either blanco or reposado)

.25 parts orange liqueur

Fertile Soil

“They call this area ‘The Salad Bowl’,” he told me. My dad was driving North on the 101 from King City, showing me around the area with a near bird’s-eye view in the passenger seat of his enormous pickup truck. The moniker clearly fit; in every direction I looked, something was growing. As a chef it’s exciting to see a place producing so much food. Entire acres look like vibrant green carpets. Rows of wine grapes stand at attention. Bright red strawberries beg to be picked and tasted (though I hear their farmers are less than encouraging about that sort of thing).

Then, after my excitement fades, a little embarrassment sets in. You see, I’ve been cooking for years. I’ve made tons of salads. I’ve hulled cases and cases of strawberries. I’ve purchased, washed, and chopped more cilantro and parsley than I could tally, but I’d never seen where it all came from. It didn’t take more than a glance to see that this place had fertile soil.

My lady and I had the pleasure of staying in King City for a solid month as part of a much larger, longer road trip that started in Seattle in February and will, by the end, have taken us through nine states here in the U.S. and one in Mexico. One of our favorite aspects of the trip thus far has been getting to spend so much time in so many different places, each one with its own unique pulse.

King City was certainly no exception; everywhere we went was beautiful, green, and lush. A drive from King City west to the coast yielded many great photo opportunities, and a short trip in the opposite direction showcased the gradual metamorphosis from flat fertile farmland to rolling green hills dotted with grazing cows, to a much steeper and rockier topography. Heading North, especially if you wander off the 101 a little, you can’t help but run into a vineyard or tasting room. We managed to make quite a dent in our “winery check-off map” (which she kept insisting was just a regular promotional map, and that we didn’t actually have to go to every winery on the list). In short, we had no trouble keeping busy for our month here.

At one point during our stay we stopped into the Firehouse coffee shop for some lattes. The young lady behind the counter asked how we’d been enjoying our time in King City. “We both love it,” I answered, “there’s so much to do around here.” “Really!?” was her surprised reply, followed by an embarrassed laugh. I guess it’s not unusual for the members of a town to feel like there’s nothing interesting to do where they live. It reminds me of my grandmother, telling me about living in Cairo, Egypt and never seeing the pyramids. From our point of view, however, there wasn’t nearly enough time for everything we wanted to see and do here. What’s more, it wasn’t longer than a week before we felt like a part of the community, rather than visitors from the outside looking in.

A one-month stay is a uniquely sized window into the life of a town. Instead of seeing the area simply as it stands now, you begin to learn a little about the people who have worked so hard to make it that way. What we saw when we first arrived in King City was this wonderful little community, but it was in meeting the people here that we began to understand how it didn’t get that way on it’s own. There was no serendipity, just a whole lot of people who get involved and love their city, from the wine makers to the farmers to the folks around town. This is a happy place made up of friendly people, working hard for each other and, in so doing, benefiting themselves.

I’ve been to a lot of different cities in my life, and it’s not often you come across a community like this one; a place that feels like home the first time you visit, with people who strive every day to make it even better. I’m sure it may sound funny, but I feel as though I made more friends after a month in King City than in the three years I’ve been up in Seattle.

Of course, I’ve talked to enough folks in town to know that not everyone agrees on everything all the time, but in the end everyone is striving toward a common goal. It can be easy to forget that not every place works that way. The community, like the farmland, is fertile, healthy, and strong. Even as our journey has continued on from California, I still think back often to our time in this place; getting to know King City was something I truly valued, and that feeling, much like King City itself, is something uniquely special.

4 Things it's Easier to Do when You Don't Have a Job

I've never been a stranger to hard work and long hours. It's just how things go in the industry, and most of the time I love it. The trade off, of course, is that it's hard to find time for much of anything else. For a long time that was fine with me because I like what I do, but now I'm beginning to realize that some things are a lot easier when you're not working all the time. For example...

#4. Anything that Might be Crowded on a Weekend

Raise your hand if you enjoy the great outdoors. Now raise your hand if you’d rather enjoy those outdoor activities while surrounded by hundreds of strangers. Now put your hand down, because this is a blog and I can’t see you anyway. Last Monday my lady and I went on a hike in The Pinnacles. The park itself was quiet and secluded, and we probably didn’t see more that two or three other groups during our 6 mile hike along the High Peak Ridge. The views bordered on mind-blowing, and the absence of other hikers surprised me.

 Once we’d finished our hike and returned to the trail head a gentleman there asked us if we would take a short survey. What followed were eight pages of questions about overcrowding in the park: “What’s the longest you would be willing to wait for parking?”, “How many people at the Overlook viewpoint are too many?”, “How jam-packed would this place have to be before you just gave up and tried to hang yourself over a hand-railing with your camera strap?”. We weren’t the only ones sitting at this picnic table taking the survey, and clearly we weren’t the only ones confused by the questions (especially that one about the camera strap). Finally I heard someone else ask The Survey-Slinger (not his actual title) the question we were all thinking. “How busy does this place really get?” Survey Man then told him that, on weekends, you can’t even get a parking spot, so people park several miles away and are shuttled in by the Parks Service, and sometimes certain sections of the trail could have a up to a 15 minute queue. I can’t imagine, I mean, doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose? Why not just go to the mall? We might go back there… on a Wednesday.

#3. Taking as Long as You Want to Make and Eat Lunch

Seriously, I just spent like 20 minutes making a sandwich, and then another 7 minutes deciding what to have with it. (Answer: white wine and Wheat Thins)

#2. Turning down Things You'd Rather Not Do Anyway

Just because I like to drink doesn't mean I always want to spend my wee hours in a bar, or at a party. When you work in the foodservice industry, however, that's what some people think. It was always hard to come up with good excuses to not go out at night with friends or co-workers, without sounding like an octogenarian. If I didn’t want to go, I’d just tell them I had to be home before “Matlock” was on, and save them the trouble of making their own jokes.

Now, today, I’ve got the most airtight excuse in the book: lack of funds. You see, I don’t have a job. It would be irresponsible of me to drive all the way to X to drink a bunch of Y with you and your friend, Z. I mean, I’d like to, but I simply can’t afford it. Anyway, I need to get to bed early so I can be up in time to catch “The Price is Right”.

#1. Braising

Braising is like food magic, it makes everything taste better. If it has one downside, it’s the time it takes. Braising doesn’t exactly lend itself to the weeknight post-work meal, but if you find yourself with the time it’s well worth it. In this recipe, the chicken thighs will be fully cooked after the first 35-40 minutes or so, but it's what happens in the oven after they're done that makes all the difference. The extra hour of cooking means all of the flavors will have time to mingle and become friends, and your chicken will be fall-off-the-bone tender. The other great part, especially if you have the whole day at your leisure, is that you can put the entire dish together in the morning, go enjoy your day, and then pop it into the oven a couple of hours before dinner time. Of course I've made this dish before during the work week, when I was usually coming home late and short on time, and served it as soon as the chicken was fully cooked, but the difference in flavor is night and day.

Braised Chicken with Oranges and Olives:

·         2 Tbsp. olive oil
·         8 chicken thighs
·         3-5 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
·         2 carrots, peeled and sliced 1/4”
·         2 ribs celery, sliced 1/4”
·         1/4 cup chopped yellow onion
·         1 cup sliced cremini mushrooms
·         ¼ cup white wine
·         1 Roma tomato, diced
·         ¼ cup chopped parsley
·         2-3 sprigs thyme
·         1-2 sprigs oregano
·         1 bay leaf
·         1/3 cup very coarsely chopped green olives
·         2 medium navel oranges
·         ½ cup chicken stock
·         salt and pepper

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Heat olive oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Season the chicken liberally with salt and pepper, and place skin side down in your pan. Cook for 3-5 minutes, allowing skin to brown, and working in batches if necessary, and then remove them from the pan to a large baking dish.

To the pan, add the3 garlic, carrot, celery, onion, and mushrooms. Season to taste with salt and pepper and cook for 3-5 minutes. Deglaze the pan with white wine, and then add the remaining ingredients. Cook until everything is hot, then add this mixture to the baking dish, over the top of the chicken thighs (at this point the mixture can be cooled and refrigerated until ready to bake, if desired).

Place the baking dish in the oven and bake for 1 hour, then reduce the oven temperature to 250 degrees and cook for 1 additional hour. Serve in a bowl over rice or with a thick slice of bread to soak up the braising liquid.

What We're Willing to Part With

“It is preoccupation with possession, more than anything else, that prevents men from living freely and nobly”
          -Bertrand Russell

Holy sh*t this is a lot of stuff. Somehow, piling it all in our living room only makes it seem worse. If we could just set it all on fire we probably would, but we're in an apartment, and that might upset our neighbors. Maybe if we just set our neighbor's apartment on fire then it would spread to our place and no one would know it was us, but I digress.

I've been in Seattle for the past three years. My time here hasn't been bad; I held down a great job, I found myself a pretty lady (hi Cora!),  and together we managed to fill a two-bedroom apartment full of all the things you're supposed to have as two full-fledged adults living in the city together. We kept that up for a while. Now, finally, all the stuff... all those things you're supposed to have, we've gotten rid of them all.

The furniture wasn't hard. I didn't have a lot of sentimental attachment to any of it, and almost all of it was mine before we moved in together, so out the door it went. We sold what we could and donated the rest. The photos came out of frames and went into albums. The books, vinyls, guitars, clothes, these things we packed into the pickup, and the rest, at least most of it, went by the box-load to Goodwill. It was getting rid of the food, however, that was probably the strangest thing. Not that we threw out any "starving kids in China could really use this" kind of stuff; we donated what we could. No, it was the less-than-usual ingredients, like so many quarter-full bottles of fancy vinegars and flavored syrups; too old and used to give away, yet too unnecessary to take along on our trip. These sorts of things had to go down the drain. The entire process, from giving notice at my job to getting in the truck and hitting the road, was much more work than I ever thought it would be ("Hey! let's just get rid of all our stuff and run away together!" -me being naive), but in the end it's been nothing short of liberating.

What we're left with now is a truck full of our clothes and favorite possessions, a housecat, and just enough gumption between the two of us to go gallivanting around the country together on a shoestring budget.

... I'll let you know how it goes.

Washington Grown

Okay, I'll admit it. I've been using "life" as an excuse for not blogging. I had decided to take a short hiatus... but that was in February. Then I decided to start back up again... but that was in May. Now it's almost October and I feel like the waters are finally calm enough to spend a little time writing.

If there's one thing I've learned so far this year it's that it takes a lot of energy to relax. The older I get, the less appealing just sitting on the couch (or in a bar, for that matter) becomes. And Seattle, wonderful though it may be, is often just too intense a place for proper repose. In fact as I type I'm remembering that this is exactly how I felt around this time last year (check out Gone Camping, my post from last November) so perhaps its seasonal, but in any case I find myself trying to take the time and effort to get out of Dodge and into the woods again.

My birthday was last month and, rather than buy me something I'd never use, my lovely lady decided to take me on an incredible hike up Mt. Index. And when I say "up" I really mean it. I may or may not have been cursing under my breath for the last 3/4-mile but it was all worth it when we got to the top, largely because we'd packed wine and cheese.

It felt so good for both of us to get out of the city and away from everything that it was only two weeks before we were leaving town again; this time to Harstine Island where my sister has the perfect place. It's in the woods... on the beach... in the middle of nowhere... and surrounded by blue and red huckleberries as well as tons of blackberries. To top it off their neighbor, who passed away last year, left behind a fully-grown apple orchard which no one else seemed to be harvesting (no sense in letting the apples go with him, right?) The pickings were so good that we had to come back for more the following weekend. Which brings us to yesterday when, after all the picking and cleaning and sorting was through, my lady and I got to work preserving our pilferage.

The bulk of the huckleberries we dried for later use, but a few special handfuls we turned into liqueurs. Some of the blackberries found their way into cobblers in the weeks after picking, and a few more became their own liqueur, while the rest stayed in the freezer and may still become jam if we muster up the gumption. The apples became the delicious spiced apple butter below. We adapted this recipe from The Complete Book of Year-Round Small-Batch Preserving  by Eleanor Topp and Margaret Howard. The original recipe calls for peeling the apples first and skipping pressing them though the strainer, leaving chunks of apple in the finished product. While this sounded delicious we opted to leave the peels on (neither of us wanted to peel a bag full of little apples) and strain the cooked mixture, leaving behind the peels as well as the lemon zest and spices.

Spiced Apple Butter

• 4 lb mixed apples, 1" dice
• 1 cup apple cider
• 2 cups granulated sugar
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• zest of one lemon (cut with a potato peeler and avoid the white pith)
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 12 whole cloves

Combine apples, cider, lemon zest and spices in a very large stainless steel or enamel saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce heat and boil gently for about 45 minutes or until the apples have broken down completely. Remove from heat and push the mixture though a strainer using a spatula until you are left with a smooth apple sauce. Discard the remaining peels and spices.

Return the mixture to heat and stir in sugar and lemon juice. Return to a boil, reduce heat, and boil gently for 25 to 35 minutes or until mixture is very thick. Remove from heat.

Ladle into sterilized jars and process as directed for Shorter Time Processing Procedure (www.epicurious.com).

Gone Camping, Pt. 2

As requested, here's a few more photos from my camping trip.

Gone Camping

Let me start by saying that I love Seattle. This city has the kind of pulse that you can't find just anywhere. From time to time, however, it all just gets to be too much; too many people, bright lights, jobs and responsibilities. When that happens there's only one remedy: pack up the truck and go camping.

So let me tell you how my Saturday began. I woke up early and wandered away from the

campground a bit. It was a good morning hike that made for some great photos. Once I'd found my way back to my camp it was time to start cooking. I'd be lying if I told you I got my fire started right away, but after some trying I'd built something hot enough to boil water for coffee. After my first cup of French press the fire had given off enough coals to make some real food. I hadn't bothered to bring measuring cups so there are no recipes. Everything here is done to taste.

Campfire Breakfast Burritos

Breakfast burritos are an awesome camping breakfast. It's a dish I've done many times over an open fire with a cast iron pan, but this time I wanted to up the challenge a bit. Perhaps I was stepping out of my league; I've never made my own flour tortillas at home, let alone over an open fire, but it turned out to work remarkably well. I found this recipe for flour tortillas on the Homesick Texan's blog and discovered that with little effort it could be adapted to work in a camping situation. Once I had a couple tortillas I kept them warm by the fire while I cooked off a few medium diced potatoes, then added onions, bell peppers, mushrooms, and a little jalepeno. When this was finished I stirred in a bit of store-bought salsa and scooped the mixture into my tortillas, then topped it with sour cream and shredded cheese. It was the perfect way to get my day started.

Once I'd cleaned up from breakfast I strolled down to the lake for some more pictures. My timing was perfect as the fog was just rolling off of the water. After that and another short hike it was time for lunch.

Soft-cooked Egg over Green Salad

This is a trick I'd heard of before, and I've always wanted to try it. Rather than boiling your egg, simply suspend it near some coals using a paper clip and a stick or coat hanger. The cooking time will vary depending on the strength of your fire and position of your coals, but for me I found that cooking the egg for 5 minutes, then turning it and cooking for another 5 resulted in a perfect "soft-cooked" egg like the one pictured. To give you and idea of temperature the egg was hung in a place where I could stand to put my hand for about 3-5 seconds. The salad itself was tossed with some homemade dressing: a simple combination of oil, vinegar, and a small amount of mustard and sugar, seasoned with salt and pepper. You could just as easily bring along your own store-bought brand.

For dinner I brought along some halibut, and from there I tried to use the ingredients I already had. I seasoned the halibut and tossed it in flour, then pan fried it in butter with the last of my mushrooms. It was certainly delicious, but the real star of the day was dessert.

Fried Bannocks with Huckleberry Jam

Using the leftover tortilla dough that I had I pulled off a few pieces and formed them into 1" balls. I set a pan on the fire and added a cup or so of Canola oil for frying. Once this was nice and hot I carefully dropped in my dough balls and cooked each side for a minute or two until they were all a dark golden brown. I then slowly picked them out of the pan, allowing the excess oil to drip off, then set them on a plate of granulated sugar and rolled them around to coat. Served with some huckleberry jam, these were a wonderful departure from the classic s'more we're all so familiar with on camping trips.

With the last of the light for the day I got caught up on some reading. As the sun set I walked back down to the lake to snap a few more pictures, then headed back up to my camp to play some guitar before turning in for the night.