Obama Day

January 20, 2009 marked a glorious day in American history. We said goodbye to George W. (and watched him get zipped away from DC and back to Texas on a helicopter), and welcomed Barack Obama as our new president with a big, fat, wet kiss hello. To celebrate this momentous changing of the guard, I hosted an Inauguration Breakfast Party at my house and invited friends over for a meal in front of the television.

Shari, Eleanor, and Colin stayed over the night before, and we didn't get to bed until close to two in the morning, which made it difficult to get up for a 7AM inaugural start. But, we managed to roll out of bed (Colin stayed under the covers and watched from the living room floor for a bit) and make our way into the kitchen.

I decided against making Obama-lets, as that would be too time consuming to make individual omelets, and made a large frittata (Freedom-tata?) with mushroom, onion, spinach, and cheddar instead. I also made Homie-fries ("homie" because Barack's black) and banana-walnut bread.

I did a lot of prep work the previous night, and Shari helped. The filling for the frittata was cooked the night before. I just sautéed the onions, mushrooms, and spinach together. I also par-boiled the potatoes so that, in the morning, I would just have to dice them up and put them in the hot oven with some olive oil and onion to finish cooking and get crisp and brown. I also baked the bread the night before. (I mistakenly ate one of the bananas needed for the bread a day earlier and then had to substitute an extra quarter cup of yogurt for the lost moisture; the bread turned out great still.)

Because most of the work had been done already, I thought I wouldn’t have much to do Tuesday morning and that timing would work out so that food would be on the table and ready to eat by the start of Barack’s Inaugural Address. But, I was wrong. The potatoes took a little longer than I thought to reach the crispy browness that I wanted. And, the frittata totally threw me. I was so happy to have Eleanor help and even more happy to have her take it over (thank goodness for chef friends). I didn’t know how much stirring on the stovetop the eggs needed. I didn’t know how long in the oven it should bake for. I didn’t know how to flip it out of the skillet. But, Eleanor was a pro! She handled it with such grace and didn’t even show the slightest bit of annoyance that she was working in the kitchen as Barack Obama became our president.

Finally, everything was done. We carried the frittata and potatoes to the living room, where friends had been watching the morning’s broadcast, drinking coffee (brewed from beans that Carlo brought for Blue Bottle) and orange juice while munching on the banana (really, yogurt bread) and carrot muffins that Cambria made. I dished out the eggs and potatoes for everyone. We sat on the floor and on the couch and on any space we could find and shared breakfast as we watched Barack speak about the nation’s future. And, I feel so cheesy to say it, but I was moved and proud and glad to be sharing it with friends.

Farmer's market pick-up

It's been a while since I've been hit on by random men. I sort of forgot what it looks and feels like. But, today, as I was shopping at the Civic Center Farmer's Market for goodies for Tuesday's Inauguration Breakfast Party hosted at my house, I was reminded of how silly it is.

My menu for Tuesday's breakfast would consist of two frittatas (one mushroom, onion, and spinach, and the other olives, feta, and sun-dried tomatoes), roasted potatoes, banana bread, and maybe some sausage if I feel like we really need meat. I was armed with my list of things to buy and was going to keep my eye open for other produce that looked especially good.

The first stop was the nut guy. His table was lined with bags and bags of different types of nuts, but I just needed some shelled walnuts. I asked him for about half a cup or so, asked him what that looks like, asked him for a little more, then a little less.

Here's our conversation:

Nut Guy: I've never seen anyone so capricious!
Me: I'm making bread. I want to make sure I have the right amount.
NG: Are you a cook?
Me: I cook.
NG: Or, do you just think you do?
Me: I just think I do. Thanks.

I packed the nuts in my bag and noticed how I actually needed more walnuts than what I bought but was a little embarrassed to go back for more, especially after being so unsure the first time about how much I needed. So, I made my way to the other stands. I picked up some cute little button mushrooms, some onions, some Yukon Gold potatoes, a flat of eggs, and some Asian greens (I'm not sure what they're called but have cooked and eaten them before) for a stir-fry later this week. I realized that it would be stupid for me to go buy more walnuts somewhere else and headed back to the nut guy.

Me: Hi. I'm back. I'm sorry, but I realized that I needed more walnuts.
NG: That's okay. What's your name?
Me: Susan.
NG: I'm Marcella (I think that's what he said).
Me: Nice to meet you.
NG: You have this great aura around you.
Me: Well, it's hard not to when it's a beautiful day and you're shopping for food.
NG: No, you have this energy. I can feel it.
Me: Um, well, thanks.
NG: You would be a wonderful person to get to know.
Me (walking away): Oh, thank you.
NG: Really. Think about it.
Me: Okay. Have a good afternoon. See you next week.

Who knew that my aura of greatness exudes from me as I'm purchasing nuts? Perhaps with my new friendship with Nut Guy, I can get some free nuts.

Anchor and Hope

I didn't expect much from my Thursday night. I had plans to meet Cambria and Bryce at MOMA for The Act of Drinking Beer with Friends is the Highest Form of Art. It was tons of fun drinking Pacifico as we looked at pieces from the 1000 Journals Project and made our own contributions.

After the museum, Cambria and I met up with Carlo to have dinner at Anchor and Hope. I had no idea what this place was but Carlo was intent on eating there. We parked our car under the freeway and across the street from several homeless men. It seemed sketchy but there were other people out, and I knew Varnish and John Collins were on the same street as Carlo's car so, somehow, that made it seem less sketch.

We found Anchor and Hope in this cute gray building, and the inside was equally as charming, with high ceilings, a long bar, and servers in white shirts with gray, striped aprons. The hostess told us that the wait would be about an hour and that we were welcome to wait at the bar, where we could also get full service. With no open spaces at the bar, we stood at the corner, hovering over the loaves of Acme bread. The bartender was very nice and accommodating and took our order for a bottle of Proseco, shrimp cocktail (large), and calamari.

The three of us toasted to a new year, promising to hang out more often (the last time I saw them both was at my birthday dance party at Annie's Social Club in October), and enjoyed the sweet, crisp bubbly wine. When our food came, we spied two open seats at the middle of the bar. We asked the bartender if we could move down there, instead of standing tightly at the corner of the crowded bar, and he generously obliged, moving our food for us as we took our drinks. More settled and seated (Cambria opted to stand), we dug in. The shrimp were large and beautiful and tender. The calamari was tasty, fried goodness, with soft loops of squid and a light batter that we dipped in a slightly spicy soy-like sauce. We also asked for some bread, since we still had a long wait ahead of us, and that too was good with the soft, salty butter that I just scraped out of the small dish with pieces of bread (we didn't get knives, but that was okay). Carlo ordered us a bottle of a nice, clean and not too sweet Pinot Bianco too.

Finally, we were seated, more than an hour later at the communal table, though, by this time, the restaurant was half empty. Cambria and Carlo noticed throughout our time at the bar that the kitchen wasn't busy at all (there were no pots or pans on the burners) and that many tables didn't have food on them. Not a real problem for us though, since we weren't in any sort of rush and waiting just meant that we would have more time chatting and catching up.

When our server came by to take our orders, we knew what we wanted and that we would share everything: the lobster roll, the paella with a half shell-still-on crab, and the fisherman's stew. She was impressed at our quick decisiveness, but we reminded her how we had plenty of time to peruse the menu as we waited at the bar. She was also impressed at what we had polished off at the bar too. True, we were an impressive trio.

Our food came out fairly quickly and all at once. The lobster roll came split in two, the paella was impressive with this huge piece of crab sticking out from the iron dish, and the stew was loaded up with all types of seafood. I scooted all my different utensils (fork, knife, spoon, crab cracker thing, crab scooper thing), my two glasses, my small plate, and my small bowl out of the way (trying to avoid the large crack in the middle of the table) to make room for all the food.

I stuck my spoon into the soup. It was good but once Cambria added a squeeze of lemon it was great. The salmon in it was perfect, just barely cooked and silkily rich. They didn't skimp on the seafood in it either; there were shrimp, squid, mussels, and some type of white fish too. Carlo served us up the paella. The rice at the bottom was crunchy and stuck to my teeth in a good way. The crab in it was sweet and tender. I cared little about etiquette and manners, and went at it with my fingers. The lobster roll was good too, with large chunks of lobster just barely dressed in a creamy sauce, though I enjoyed the buttery brioche dipped into the fisherman's stew more than the lobster bits.

By the time we finished up, it was almost 11pm and I was yawning. It was time to call it a night. Carlo took us home and we promised to hang out more often in 2009.

Veggie resolution

When the New Year rolled around, I didn't give much thought to New Year resolutions. It didn't really occur to me. Plus, I've been really good about being healthy and conscious about what I'm putting into my body (things that are usually new year resolutions) over the past year, so I didn't need to make those resolutions. But, after having dinner with Eleanor last week, I realized that I do have new eating goals. I want to eat even more fruits and vegetables and cut back the amount of meat consumed.

So, when Ian suggested that we make sweet potato quesadillas for dinner, I thought it was a little weird but was game. He came over with provisions from Rainbow: two large sweet potatoes, cheese, corn tortillas, an onion, the world's largest clove of garlic, and an avocado. We got to work in the kitchen. I chopped the onion and garlic as he peeled and grated the sweet potatoes. I sautéed the vegetables as he grated cheese. He took over the sautéing and sprinkled in curry powder and ground cumin. It looked like orange mush, and I was still skeptical. Where did he learn this? I asked. His hippie mom and her Moosewood Cookbook, he said.

As he warmed tortillas in a separate pan and started the assembly process, I made a salad with mixed green, baby spinach, carrots, and a balsamic vinaigrette that I made weeks ago but hoped would still be okay and not make us ill. We plated up and sat down to eat.

After a few bites, Ian looked me. What did I think? It was okay, actually surprisingly good. It tasted like sweet potatoes and corn, and nothing of the hippie grossness that I had feared. He didn’t seem convinced that I enjoyed it. But, I cleaned my plate. Perhaps I would include this on my vegetarian repertoire of meals.

Fleur de sel cupcake

My office-mate David and I like to talk about food. Actually, we like to talk about tons of things and we probably spend more time talking to each other than actually doing work. Today's food topic of choice: cupcakes. It was Kat's birthday on Monday and he was going to bring her cupcakes from Kara's Cupcakes, which is just down the street from our school site, as a belated present. As he read off the different flavors--peanut butter, chocolate velvet, passion fruit--I was envious. I wished it was my birthday.

He headed off to Kara's Cupcakes and was then going to go to the other office; I assumed he was gone for the day. Not too long later, he came rushing back with a single cupcake in his hand. "It's fleur de sel," he said. "I'm double parked." And, just like that, he went off again. My eyes lit up and the students in my office looked a little confused. I set the cupcake aside on my desk and finished up with the students' financial aid reports.

When we were done and the students left, I laid out a piece of paper towel, loosened the paper wrapper from my cupcake, laid it on the napkin, took my fork out from my desk, and cut into the cupcake. It oozed a golden-y cream. I took a bite. It was so decadent. The chocolate ganache frosting was luscious and rich, the caramel was sweet and buttery, and the fleur de sel was a lovely contrast against all that sugar. Though it was all a little too much, it didn't stop me from scraping my fork against the wrapper to get every little bit of cake.

Non-training celebratory meal

I sort of have a marathon training crew. Billy, Winnie, Tree, and I all planned to run the San Francisco Half-Marathon together this July. The last few times we've run together, we did very little running but plenty of post-quasi-run eating. We planned to start our running together again as well as honor Billy's birthday with a 29-minute run, one minute for every year, as well as celebrate all things to celebrate--a new year, Billy's birth, the completion of graduate school applications, a new baby, a new dog. Of course, the running didn't happen.

I showed up at Winnie's house in Alameda much later than I had anticipated. It look me about 30 minutes to make coffee whipped cream for my devil's food cake from a box (I didn't have time to make the cake from scratch). When the cream was finally at a non-liquid state (I thought that sticking the bowl with the cream into another one with ice water as I whipped would help, which it did), I poured it all on top of the cake, while licking up rogue bits of the cream. By the time I packed everything up and made my way across the Bridge, it was already 5:30pm and the sun was almost done setting. It would be too dark for a run, and I was disappointed since it would have been gorgeous running along the beach in Alameda as the sun set.

Instead of running, I sat in Winnie's kitchen eating carrots, cheese, salami, and crackers as she checked on her potato rolls and made meat patties for sliders. We started cooking when Billy arrived. I helped cook the sliders as Winnie prepared her rolls with cheese and lettuce for the mini patties. She put her macaroni and cheese (a slightly healthier version made with whole wheat pasta and pita bread crumbs) into the oven. Billy heated up the shrimp balls he brought. When Winnie's friend Tim (who is also supposed to run with us) showed up, the four of us sat down to all this food (we had assumed that more people would join us, and more people would though later in the evening).

I loaded up my plate with a slider, a scoop of mac-n-cheese, and a shrimp ball. The slider patty was surprisingly good for a Rachel Ray recipe. The meat was well seasoned and perfectly cooked (go, me!). Winnie's homemade potato roll was a nice touch. Her mac-n-cheese was made with pepper Jack cheese, which added a nice kick to it (I think I might steal this idea from her). And, for whatever reason, I couldn't get enough of the shrimp balls. I think I had five of them. Actually, I had another scoop of mac-n-cheese and split another slider with Billy. My self-restraint was no where to be found tonight.

After a little break, we sliced up some of the cake I made. The whipped cream set up more in the refrigerator, which was a relief, and everyone said that it was really good, though I reminded them that the cake came from a box. I could have just eaten spoonfuls of the cream and done without the cake though.

More friends showed up, though they all had eaten dinner already, which meant that we could have more dessert once I finished my 3D apple puzzle. Winnie had the makings for both root beer floats and banana splits, but we all decided on banana splits. We had vanilla and mint ice cream from Tucker's, which Winnie described as an Alameda institution. I asked for a small portion with only one scoop of vanilla, but when I noticed that everyone also had a scoop of mint, I wanted that too. I topped mine with both the fudge and caramel sauces, just as everyone had done. We finished the evening with some a champagne toast. I felt a little ill.

Usual routine again

It's nice to be back home again. After almost a week and half on the East Coast, I am happy to be sleeping in my bed, using my bathroom, and eating and cooking as I usually do again. When I got home Monday, I defrosted some butternut and carrot soup I made in October and had that with wheat toast for dinner. For Tuesday's lunch, I packed a green salad with garbanzo beans, sardines, and red onions. For dinner, I made a saffron, tomato seafood stew, which may sound fancy but is actually pretty simple.

I started by sauteing some garlic, shallots, bay leaves, thyme, red pepper flakes, and fennel seeds in a little bit of oil. Then, I added two leeks, thinly sliced, and a touch of water, and cooked that for a few more minutes. After, I poured in a can of diced tomatoes, a slice of zest from an orange, three cups of clam juice, the saffron with its soaking liquid, some water, and two cups of dry white wine. (I got a fantastic bottle of Hiedler Loess Kamptal Gruner Veltliner from 2007, which, according to the lady selling me the wine at Arlequin Wine Merchants, was a great year for Austrian vineyards. The woman's eyes lit up when I told her I was making a seafood stew. She described the wine as perfect for my soup and worked well with a range of flavors, from grapefruit to fennel. And, it was quite lovely and refreshing and very dry.)

I let the liquid simmer for about 25 minutes with the lid off so that it could reduce a bit. I tasted it for salt and pepper. Then, I added the chunks of cod. After about five minutes, the bay scallops and shrimp went in. And, after about four more minutes, I turned off the heat, poured in a couple of tablespoons of cream and threw in some chopped cilantro. I toasted some slices of baguette rubbed with olive oil in my cast iron skillet, and I was done. Easy, yet still impressive.

Better Boston days

I might be turning a new leaf towards Boston. Last year when I went to visit, the city left a bad taste in my mouth. But, on this trip, I actually enjoyed my time there.

Susie and I had a great Boston day Saturday. Though it was still cold (about 34 degrees), the sun was out and the sky was clear. We started our day at the Haymarket, where vendors were selling produce for ridiculously low prices. Ten avocados for a dollar! A box of mangoes for a dollar! A box of oranges for a dollar! I couldn't believe how cheap the produce was and felt like I should be buying food, even though I would be getting back on a bus to New York the next morning. The sidewalk was crowded with people eying the food in the stalls, trying to find the best bargain. This was not the Boston I had seen on my previous trip. Here were my people. It was loud and crowded and full of people of all different races and ethnicities. And, I loved it.

We then walked over to the North End to have lunch. The place Susie had wanted to eat at was closed until 5pm, so we ate at Florentine Cafe instead. Over pasta (spaghetti and meatballs for me, fettuccine carbonara for her) and a bottle of Chianti, we chatted and stared out the window. It was a leisurely, lovely meal.

Full on carbohydrates and red wine, we headed out again into the cold and over to the Boston Harbor. I thought of the tea party and how these silly colonists dressed up as Native Americans.

It was cold by the water, so we decided to head back inside and get cannolis at Modern Pastry Shop. Susie waited in line as saved our seats from the Asian tourists. I was in awe of all the different sweet treats lining the refrigerated counter and I wanted them all. We ended up sharing two cannolis: a chocolate shell one and one with just the ends dipped in chocolate. The shells were filled to order and they were delicious. The shell was crunchy but buttery and tender, while the cheese filling was rich and light and just sweet enough. We asked the Asian tourists to take a photo of us and our cannolis.

After a little bit of shopping, we went to Top of the Hub, the restaurant at the top floor of the Prudential Tower, the second tallest building in Boston. Sitting at the bar having drinks, Susie pointed out all the different parts of Boston to me and I was able to pick out the gold dome of the State Building. After two cocktails, both of which had a combination of vodka, champagne, and Chambord, not to mention the wine from earlier, I was a little drunk. Susie was too.

We needed food again and had little bit of time before going to watch Slumdog Millionaire. After being unsuccessful at the food court and California Pizza Kitchen (both closed just minutes before we got there), we went down the street to The Pour House. Susie warned that the food would be whatever, and it was. My burger was obviously a frozen patty, but the fries, which were probably also frozen, weren't bad. And, my Sam Adams Winter Lager was a winner, though too much for me to finish.

Only at The Pour House, where I noticed that I was the only Asian person there and Susie said that there were probably no Mexican customers and I felt like I was at a frat party, was I reminded of my last trip to Boston. But, it was a bar and I would be going back to New York the next day only to return to San Francisco the following day. Maybe I could like Boston.