A New Toy

J's mother gave us a mandoline! This largesse has coincided perfectly with the publishing of Mark Bittman's instantly classic 101 Salads. At an outing to FCI recently (and, I believe, my first ever luncheon), Sarah asked me if I would ever go to culinary school. The answer is no, but if I did it would probably be just so that I could take less than 45 minutes to chop an onion. I do not relish knifework.


First up was this yummy salad from Kitchn. Mine seems to fall into a totally different color scheme, but we used a tomato and a pepper from the garden! I prepped the onion and cukes (which -- J's idea -- we always score with a zester before slicing; it cuts down on toughness and looks really pretty!) in seconds and assembled the rest while the fish cooked on the grill. Lemon squeezey.

Then last night, I was a little pleased to end up with the night to myself because Emily's take on Bittman Salad #2 is a perfect lunch or dinner for one, but not really take-to-work-for-lunch material.


Next time I might make this on a hot day and pair it with a version of the cold avocado-melon soup we had once as a special at the Main Street Bistro in New Paltz. Light and fresh but still rather decadent, no?

The verdict: mandolines are wonderful, even if the only thing you ever use it for is onions. I don't care for big chunks of red onion in things, and I care still less for cutting them the old-fashioned way. But I will now put thin, lovely onion slivers in every salad I ever make. One thing though: use the finger guard.

Things in California that are not Chez Panisse

{Looking back at the bridge from the ferry on the way to Tiburon}

{The amazing farmer's market at the old Ferry building, now a really nice marketplace. The oyster po' boy is becoming a tradition.}

{A creepy-pretty mural}

{Language of the Birds: Words on the ground that fell out of books hanging from the streetlights directly above. Just up the hill from City Lights Bookshop.}

{Pretty signs on Polk Street, after brunch at an adorable little cafe that turned out to be a huge chain. Why don't we have one of those on every corner?}

photo by K Hellyer via yatzer
{Another public piece by Brian Goggin called Defenestration. Good title. My favorite is the grandfather clock.)

photo by R. R. Jones
{A Midsummer Night's Dream at Shakespeare Santa Cruz: the most delightful Shakespeare production I've seen in ages, and the first play I ever did at school (I played Demetrius).}

{At a sunny little spot in Santa Cruz}

I know everyone jokes when they go on vacation about never coming back and living the life of a permanent tourist. I believe no one really wants this, but it is liberating to remember that not every worthwhile experience is just beyond your front stoop. Yes, even New Yorkers.

Chez Alice

Last week my boyfriend and I went to California to visit his family. I gave considerable thought to not coming back.

We called upon many of Jonathan's old friends, and visiting tends to involve eating together. So we ate. A lot. The highlight: Chez Panisse, of course! Well, the cafe, anyway. But I would never have known that we were sitting in the little sister.

{Me: Zucchini salad with squash blossoms and pecorino}

{Jonathan: Avocado and beet salad with purslane and chili flakes}

{Me: Sea bass with Indian spices, mint & cucumber raita, and tomato & eggplant}

{Jonathan: Goat's leg (!) and potato gratin with roasted heirloom tomatoes & salsa verde}

{My cookbook-cover shot with desserts (1) Rhubarb tart with strawberry ice cream & (2) Creme Panisse with raspberry coulis....}

{...and (3) Chocolate pavé with espresso cream & chocolate sauce & (4) Mulberry ice cream with peaches and creme chantilly!}

{Mm, pretty Barbera and Rosé. The colors just looked so pretty with all that natural light.}

Thank you, Alice, who started it all.