kitchen

Still Here

 

Christmas in San Francisco's Outer Richmond neighborhood...my neighborhood, if not my bells. It's fruitcake weather: 

"The black stove, stoked with coal and firewood, glows like a lighted pumpkin. Eggbeaters whirl, spoons spin round in bowls of butter and sugar, vanilla sweetens the air, ginger spices it; melting, nose-tingling odors saturate the kitchen, suffuse the house, drift out to the world on puffs of chimney smoke. In four days our work is done. Thirty-one cakes, dampened with whiskey, bask on windowsills and shelves." 

From, "A Christmas Memory," by Truman Capote

Paul

Paul Thomas Hultberg (July 7, 1967 - October 6, 2009)

Autumn

These golden months before winter's chill have always been my favorite time of the year, despite the overtones of loss. This year as I settle into the wonderful reality of returning to San Francisco, I'm not without melancholy. A lot has happened this year, and I'm grateful for it all: the thorny, imperfect choices, the small victories, the moments of grace amid uncertainty. The lessons. This fall, somehow I understand a little more what Bob Dylan's mourning when he sings "Sara," why my mother always used to play Claire de Lune on the piano, and how caramel apples and Charlie Brown and blazing orange pumpkin patches are among the things that knit us together again year after year. 

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

-William Carlos Williams

A Wordle a Day

Did you know that you can create your own word cloud from words on your blog or website? You can even change the layout, font, and color of your Wordle. It's kind of like the new pet rock. Above is Kitchen''s Wordle from Wordle.net

Dust My Broom

It's true that I have a fondness for forgotten brands, particularly those that seem oblivious to their own legacy or charms. Look at Chemex, maker of the iconic hourglass coffee brewing vessel that was in Doris Day's midcentury modern kitchen in "Pillow Talk" and Paul Newman's tatty bachelor pad in "Harper." Or the Olivetti manual typewriter, the embodiment of precursor chic. Also on my short list of utilitarian fancies is Quinn Broomworks, a tiny broom company in Greenup, Illinois, that has been in business since 1925. On those days when the to do list overwhelms, it helps to step away from your desk and sweep. My favorite is Quinn's Famous Lay Kitchenette. They come in packs of twelve, so unless you have a 50-room manse or dozens of cats, you'll want to rally your friends and family to the cause. 

Dear John

Nice piece on John Updike in The New York Times this weekend. I found this passage particularly poignant, and by that I do not mean quaint, at this moment in time:

"Every now and then, if something in a magazine caught Mr. Updike’s eye, he would send the author a little fan note, often typed on a postcard with his name and address hand-stamped in blue ink. He also had a stamp he used to address all his correspondence to Alfred A. Knopf, his publisher. There was something endearingly quaint about these little inky imprints — a legacy perhaps of a Depression boyhood and a lifetime habit of efficiency — but they also reflected his enduring fascination with the magic of print."

-From "John Updike's Mighty Pen," by Charles McGrath

Hot Mess

This was one of the more alarming climate change stories in recent months. What a difference a degree can make. In a study published in the journal Science, researchers pointed to a global temperature increase of just one degree as the cause for a doubled rate of death among mature trees in the Western U.S. So, sparser forests means fewer trees to absorb carbon dioxide, and decomposing trees means the carbon locked within them is released into the environment. This doubling up means a spike in greenhouse gases, which perpetuates the rise in global temperatures, which then exacerbates droughts, rising sea levels, extreme weather, and hungry and parched populations (especially in poor and developing countries) fighting each other for diminishing food and water supplies. I was listening to an NPR interview with climate change experts this week and one of them aptly pointed out how slight increases in body temperatures can throw everything dangerously out of whack in the human body. I'm hopeful that a new administration that at the very least respects science will be able to begin the slow process of mitigating some of the damage our excesses have caused. You can see their agenda, which includes reducing greenhouse gas emissions 80 percent by 2050, here. 

Granola

I've been making the same granola for years, from the great cookbook Mark Peel and Nancy Silverton Cook at Home. While the book is out of print, I am posting my slightly adapted version of their recipe here, per my neighbor Jessica's request! The original calls for for dried figs, apricots, golden and black raisins, but I use dried cranberries and dried tart cherries instead, because I think they make granola much more worth getting out of bed on a cold morning. I like having this for breakfast (or, ahem, dinner) with goat's milk yogurt and a swirl of honey. Yum! Here's how to make it:

Ingredients:

4 cups old-fashioned rolled oats (not quick-cooking)

3/4 cup raw pumpkin seeds

3/4 cup unsalted raw sunflower seeds

1 cup coarsely chopped unblanched almonds

1/2 cup wheat germ

1/2 cup powdered nonfat dry milk

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

2 teaspoons ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

3/4 cup safflower oil

1/2 cup maple syrup

1/2 cup honey

1 cup dried cranberries

1 cup dried tart cherries

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Stir together the oats, seeds, almonds, wheat germ, dry milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and vanilla. Set aside.

3. In a small saucepan over medium heat stir together the oil, maple syrup, and honey. Pour over the oat mixture and toss with your hands or a wooden spoon until all the ingredients are moistened. Spread on a cookie sheet and bake for 30 minutes, stirring once. The edges tend to brown first, so stir carefully. When lightly browned, remove from the oven to cool. While it is cooling, give it a stir every 10 minutes so it doesn't stick together. When it cools to room temperature, add the dried fruit. Seal in freezer lock bags or airtight tins. Makes about 9 cups.

Hope

"Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Boots of Spanish Pleather

How to Lose

Great post from Seth Godin on "how to lose" in business. What I love about Godin's way of thinking is that he puts a premium on authentic relationships in evaluating everything marketers do. He takes strategy and tactics down to simply being a generous human being. Building good relationships doesn't begin with what you stand to gain, but too often in our post-Facebook and LinkedIn world, it seems many people forget even the basic social niceties that build goodwill. If someone adds me as a "friend" on Facebook with nary a note of greeting, then immediately begins plastering my inbox with invitations to their events, I'll just say it doesn't make me feel very friendly. The other day, I went to Publix to get a few things I usually get at Whole Foods. I love Whole Foods, and shop there probably 90 percent of the time. But like a lot of people, I am being more regimented than usual with my budget, and I have a hard time exercising restraint at Whole Foods. Who doesn't? So I was at the "regular" grocery store expecting a diminished experience, Cashmiracle rather than cashmere. I needed lemons for a pear crisp, and when I couldn't find them (o.k., it was a particularly scattered Wednesday), I asked the man working in the produce section where they were. He told me, and then he walked me across the section to where they were. And, get this: he was friendly, as if it actually mattered to him that I found the lemons. It was a small thing, but here I am writing about it, because his helpfulness changed my day. I'm not sure if they were out of lemons if he would have sent me to Whole Foods, but his small gesture changed how I feel about Publix, and the marketers didn't have to engineer a thing.

Dark Victory

Interesting news day. Apparently, McDonald's sales are up 11% as consumers are spending less on eating out, while the Victory Garden planted by Slow Food in San Francisco's Civic Center for the Slow Food Nation sustainable foodstravaganza is being guarded round the clock (at a cost of thousands of dollars each week) to prevent the homeless from encroaching on it. 

I get it, I really do, it would create problems to have the homeless sleeping, urinating, or lord knows foraging among the beautiful beds laden with organic veggies and herbs. The garden was just there to illustrate a point about how things could be if we followed Slow Food's mantra of food that is good, clean, and fair. 

To be, indeed, fair, when the garden is removed later this fall, all of its foodstuffs will be donated to the San Francisco Food Bank. That is really nice. We all digest our food a little better during the holidays knowing the homeless get to eat sweet potato casserole, too. 

It's been said before. There are a lot of people in this world who don't have access to food that doesn't poison them, much less nurture them. There are a lot of people who get their sustenance, if you can call it that, from the corner convenience store, because there isn't a grocery store in their neighborhood, and maybe they don't have a car. 

There but for the grace of Whole Foods (and the Saturday farmer's market), go we. 

I for one am watching my food budget, but am fortunate to be able to buy food that nourishes my body and spirit. I, and many of my fellow Slow Food members, enjoy food every day, as a matter of course, that hasn't been sprayed with pesticides, pumped with preservatives, and shaped into strangely seductive patties and puffs.

It's no big revelation that the economy tanking will be good for the local/sustainable food movement. People will even break out in greater numbers to grow their own food. I just think those among us who are members of groups like Slow Food need to press the democratic promise behind lofty words like "good, clean, and fair." 

 

Grow Your Own Way

Check out this week's guest blog I just posted on BeeBlog. Some great words and ideas on business from Clif Bar co-CEOs Gary Erickson and Kit Crawford in their recent interview with Grist.

Queen Bees

Under the category of shameless self-aggrandizement (actually I do just like to share), I'm linking to a couple of my recent guest blogs over at Beehive Co-op's blog. I'll be writing there on a regular basis and am honored to be in the company of such whip smart, thoroughly talented women entrepreneurs. First, an interview with Natalie Chanin, the incredible designer (pictured above) who celebrates community and craft via her Alabama Chanin clothing and home decor line. Next, some thoughts I've been noodling during this (sorry to be the gazillionth person to utter the phrase) economic downturn on why buy local, anyway?

Slow Food Nation

I am belated in getting pics up from Slow Food Nation, which was slow, but good for the most part. What is not to love about lolling on the green grass in front of San Francisco's City Hall whilst eating organic ice cream sandwiches and cogitating the meaning of life? Or, more accurately, the provenance of the next snack. Does it make it better that I see the Bonfire of the Vanities overtones here? I hope the fact that I still like going to the laundromat redeems me.

Pretty

I picked up one of Karen Meyers' fabulous cabled sweater bags (made from vintage or thrifted sweaters) last fall at Beehive and then ended up working with her to develop these press kits, which I think are rather pretty in their homespun simplicity. I am all for new media (clearly, given the platform I am using here), but to channel Marty Neumeier's example, I rather fancy the zag of the tangible, the tactile, the construction paper heart unabashedly pinned to the sleeve.

A Good Day

Yesterday was, in the immortal words of Ice Cube, a good day.

First, I had my bathroom painted. This was a leap for me because I am actually a good painter. It's one of those activities calling for precision that seem to suit my, ahem, somewhat "structured" personality. But honestly, in recent months I barely have time to feed myself, let alone perform home renovations that require more from me than picking out new throw pillows for the sofa (which also hasn't taken place yet. Hello, has anyone looked at the price tag of one quality throw pillow, let alone five? Which of course is what I've deemed the perfect number to make my sofa a vision of aesthetic correctness).

Second, I got my Slow Food Nation tickets. Everyone cool and interesting, known and unknown, in the sustainable agriculture and artisanal food world will be converging on San Francisco at Alice Waters' behest over Labor Day weekend next month for a four-day celebration of local, sustainable, good, clean and fair at Fort Mason and the Civic Center. Reviewing the lineup of workshops and dinners alone makes me feel sated. It is looking like a really extraordinary event and I am grateful I'll get to experience it.

Third, I went to another fabulous event at Beehive Co-op last night. Beehive was one of my first clients when I went out on my own and its mission (to nurture emerging independent designers) and its people are near and dear to my heart. Beehive is unusual for Atlanta in that it stocks clothing, jewelry, and home accessories that are often handmade and one-of-a-kind, but the design aesthetic is sophisticated and everything is beautifully crafted by professional designers. I have picked up so many gorgeous, unique pieces there over the years that mean more because often you get to meet the designer who made your handbag or ring.

Last night, Beehive hosted Kelleigh Bannen, another of my clients who has just released a stunning debut album, "Radio Skies." Kelleigh is only 27 but her talent belies her years. She came down to Atlanta do a special in-store live performance from the album, and the event was also a benefit for The Butler Center for Research at Hazelden. As if being an immensely talented singer-songwriter weren't enough, Kelleigh is also an accomplished jewelry designer and sells her designs at Beehive, including the "Clean" necklace she was selling at the event last night. The necklace was designed in tribute to her brother Grant, who lost his battle with substance abuse earlier this year.

Her performance was stellar (you know when you see a new band and you know you are going to be able to say you saw them when?) and a good crowd turned out to see her play and to shop the event. So much fun! I also met Amy Leff, who recently brought her Throwing Stars jewelry line to Beehive. I had to have her adorable Peace & Love bangle duo, but she has many lovely and simple pieces on display at the store. Because apparently the paint fumes from my freshly re-hued bathroom had messed with my brain's ability to practice self-control, I also just had to have one of Dawn Ramu's impeccably constructed and ever-so-feminine tops.

I don't normally indulge in two such purchases on one night, and blanch at the superficial PR chick stereotype this may conjure up in my 12 readers' minds (anyone who knows me knows what a laugh riot that is). But this shop just does that to me, and quite honestly it is worth eating peanut butter and jelly for a spell. This is what buying local can be. When you meet people who are passionately dedicated to their craft and who make beautiful things with love and care, you just naturally want to support them. It is the kind of personal connection you just don't make at BCBG. And, on a more selfish level, you want these products in your life. It is the same dynamic as going to a farmer's market and buying strawberries that were actually picked that morning and have not sat in cold storage in another state or country for a month. There is not an unlimited supply, and work and care have gone into making something of quality for others to savor.

Laissez Fare

Great piece by Kim Severson in today's NYT on "lazy locavores."

Walk a Mile

These sandals by Terra Plana are on officially on my list. I fear red is a cliche (like the stereotypical red flag of a middle aged man in a red convertible), so I am also thinking about them in baby blue, black, and brown. I like to overthink my fashion as much as possible. The cool part is that Terra Plana crafts its footwear from sustainable materials: think non-toxic, recycled, and something they call "e-leather," leather and textile fibers that are re-woven to make less ethically and ecologically taxing footwear. They design and produce according to the life cycle of a product, meaning that they don't stop at considering what a shoe is made with, they think about things like durability and fashioning a production process that conserves water and limits waste and pollution. They make their shoes in China, so if shoe miles are a concern, these are not the strappy sandals for you. But let's be honest, those equations are thorny, at best, for the average consumer to calculate, and if we are basing things purely on human rights issues, Terra Plana states that it is dedicated to ethical business practices across the board, which includes forging good relationships with its designers and vendors in China and working directly with the factories it engages. Those are practices that should be encouraged anywhere in the world, especially in a country that is undergoing such rampant economic development. And besides, until or unless the village cobbler makes a (more fashion forward, read: I don't want my feet to harken back to Ben Franklin's cobblestone clod hoppers) comeback, it is up to would-be ethical consumers to do the, er, legwork on the companies from whom we buy.