Close enough to smell her!

Alice Waters, that is.  At Union Square.  This morning.  I stood about five feet from her.  Then she walked by me, passing within about 2 feet of me.  Adam kept whispering, "Say something!  Say something!"  Bug was just confused as to why we were all a-thither.

No, I did not take a picture.  No, I didn't say anything.  Don't bother giving me a hard time about it - Adam already harrassed me within an inch of my life.  I won't regret not saying anything, though.  I was just thrilled to have seen her, not to mention that the market was insane - it was not a good time to stop someone and tell them you believe in their philosophies...you think their ideas about school lunches are right on...you love Chez Panisse...you love her Edible Schoolyard project...you think she's absolutely lovely...you want to invite her over for dinner...

See why I didn't say anything to her?  I'm embarrassing.

Eat, drink, and keep those heroes on a pedestal until they prove otherwise...

Back in the saddle again...

We finally have Internet at home, but I've had an impossible time getting back into the swing of blogging there. Especially when, as was the case last night, drinking wine and watching Zoolander with Adam sounded like a lot more fun!

Luckily (or unluckily, I suppose), there are neither movies nor wine available to me during my lunch break at work. So I'm here with an eclectic mix of links, both food- and children's literature-related:

• Sarah Miller posted a series of publishing jokes involving screwing in lightbulbs. As I mentioned to some colleagues, I found the jokes hilarious, mostly because I found each of them to be based on truth.


• The New York Times Dining section has an article on corporate America' adoption of the term "local". Which is a good sign in that it means "locavore" has become a widespread philosophy. But I take it as more of a bad sign: the marketing teams of these companies will no doubt mar and twist and spin the word "local" until it's nearly unrecognizable from its original meaning. And mainstream America will have no idea which end is up. Just like the word "organic".


• Slow Food NYC is now working on its answer to Alice Waters' Edible Schoolyard: Harvest Time. I'm thrilled and will be reading their blog closely.


• Yesterday was Queens Library's annual children's/YA "Literature Meeting" (here is a recap from last year's meeting ). This year we focused on audiobooks and had the folks from Listening Library talk to our librarians: Cheryl Herman, Dan Zitt, and Rebecca Waugh. They discussed audiobooks and literacy - Cheryl shared that a child can listen to a book two grade levels above where they can actually read. Rebecca discussed the acquisitions end, and I was surprised to learn that Listening Library records books that are "library exclusives," which tend to be the more literary or classic materials that don't do so well in the retail market. Dan, who is in charge of production, shared all kinds of wonderful stories about working with the actors. He talked about the celebrity (he wouldn't give names) who asked for a hot towel promptly at 2:00 p.m....and followed by a square of chocolate! He also talked about Broadway stars who love recording audiobooks because they get to play all the characters versus playing the same single character night after night. Overall, an informative and entertaining presentation!


• I'm in the midst of reading Hungry Monkey: A Food-Loving Father's Quest to Raise an Adventurous Eater by Matthew Amster-Burton (HMH, May 2009). Thus far, I'm really enjoying it - I wish that it had been available when Bug was a baby! Even so, there is still information in the book that I'm finding helpful with my now-7-year-old. There are some very interesting recipes so far, like Yeasted Waffles, that I'll be trying real soon. Also, there appears to be a Hungry Monkey website, but my computer won't load it - maybe you'll have better luck. Gluten-Free Girl, who is a good friend of the author, reviews Hungry Monkey here. And someone mentioned in the comments on G-F Girl that the first 3 chapters of Hungry Monkey are available on Amster-Burton's website in PDF...so clearly other people have been able to access the website. Whether you have older children, babies, are pregnant...or even thinking of having children in the future...this is a recommended read.

And as a final note, my Facebook account has been repeatedly hacked by "nefarious villians," in the words of Maurie Manning. So please disregard any messages from me. It's only hackers wearing Laura masks, trying to trick you with poisoned apples.

Eat, drink, and fight the forces of darkness and evil!

Let's hit the links!

• Georgeanne Brennan, who I fell in love with after reading Pig in Provence , has some great suggestions for using leftover bread. I've already used a couple of her ideas to great success. I love that she mentions breadcrumbs tossed with pasta: carbs on carbs is one of life's great but simple pleasures. Don't think about it - just do it.
  
• The Washington Post had an article about the growing number of recreational cooking schools. I also recently read about one in NYC. This is actually something I was thinking I'd like to do post-culinary school. But not if everyone else is doing it...
  


• Mark Bittman writes about having dinner with Patricia Wells. Which is only a dream of mine. One day - mark my words - I'm going to attend one of her cooking classes in Provence.
  


• I've mentioned my local cheese shop, Cheese of the World, before: Zagat said it was the best place for cheese in Queens. Well, apparently their supplier didn't let them in on the 300% tariff on Roquefort news. My husband mentioned the tariff and our favorite guy (nicknamed by us "Handsome Guy") had no idea what we were talking about. Handsome Guy gave Adam a bar of chocolate (Cafe-Tasse!) as a thank you and was calling his supplier as Adam walked out the door. Read this at Murray's Cheese too. Now there's word that the tariff has been delayed a month while the U.S. and France negotiate.
  


• I'm currently reading The Foie Gras Wars: How a 5,000 Year Old Delicacy Inspired the World's Fiercest Food Fight by Mark Caro. Thus far, it's a fascinating read. Caro takes a journalistic approach, much like Michael Pollan and Jennifer 8. Lee. For an interesting argument, read this review.
  


• Want to take better food photos? For the Love of Food has some terrific suggestions and hints, and not all of them require expensive equipment.
  


• I was rather surprised to see Alice Waters smiling at me from my NY Times Sunday Business section this past weekend. Civil Eats posted an interesting personal reflection, inspired by the article (note: it's decidedly pro-Alice...and it's a shame that I feel I need to state that as a disclaimer. Sigh).
  


• Lest we get too precious and foodie-like, I'll post this link. Thanks to Adam for sending this to me - he inspired my stomach bile to rise while sitting at my work computer this morning.
  

And in a complete departure, I'll link to something children's literature-related. Collecting Children's Books discusses a science book from the 1940s, and I think you'll want to take a look at the illustrator. Reading this post was an exceptional way to start my morning.

Dazzling linkosity

For more on school lunches, check out these links:

• Alice Waters' op-ed piece in the New York Times
• Better School Food website and blog (I recommend you check out the links page on the website...there's enough material to keep you reading for ages)
• National School Lunch Program (NSLP) website

In other food news:

• Man, I told you that the Pacific Northwest has it going on! This hand-molded cheese looks marvelous.
  
• In other cheese news, Utah's Beehive Cheese Co. has a coffee-rubbed cheddar that they've named Barely Buzzed. I want some NOW!
  
• The 3rd Annual Cask Beer Festival is coming up (March 20-22) here in NYC. Adam has gone with friends in the past while I've hung out at home with Kiddo...but I think we're splurging for a sitter this year and I'll sip my share of unique beers.
  
• We've gone after trans-fat...now the witch hunt starts after salt. The good news is that I've taken enough recreational classes at ICE and have seen enough Food Network shows to know that I will most certainly be using my fair share of salt in culinary school! I get that we need to reduce salt in crappy food - the salt masks so many bland flavors, so many crimes against food. But when it's used to enhance and bring out flavor? Nobody better come between me and my salt! (On another note, you can see ICE in the season premiere of "Celebrity Apprentice" where Andrew Dice Clay admits to Dennis Rodman that he hates making cupcakes. Me too, Dice. Me too.)
  
• An interesting article about how proportions have not only gotten bigger in restaurants but in cookbooks too.
  
• I rarely hesitate to admit when I've been a fool. So here it is: I had no idea this existed so close to my home. Hopefully I still have some credibility with you, dear readers.
  

Stand up in the cafeteria and stab them with your plastic forks!*

It's been a difficult couple of days for me in the blogosphere.

First, through Bitten, I found this article by Tom Lee, which takes Alice Waters to task for elitism relating to her proposal for school lunch programs. Let's start with Bittman's comment: "...we forget that most people in the United States neither know nor care about such things, and that a large percentage of those are not, in general, eating well." I get what he's saying: we foodies can get a bit "precious" about our food. But I also have real problems with the thinking that, just because people don't know or care, we shouldn't try to raise awareness, fight for the integrity of school lunches, and share our passion with any who will listen. When it becomes elitist is when someone - let's take Bittman as an example - sits in their fancy kitchen, waxes poetic about organic school lunches, but doesn't actually do any real work to make it so. By definition, I am an elitist. Alice Waters is not. She has done the real work.

I get what Tom Lee is saying and I did agree with him that Waters is shooting for the moon and we might want to think more practically. BUT I don't think she's "dicking around" by using terms like "organic" and "locally produced". Not only that, but I resent his saying so. She's done most than the rest of us with the Edible Schoolyard, proving that it's viable and it can make a difference. And I have real problems with a system that has made "organic" and "locally produced" so difficult to procure: why should these be the hallmarks of the elite and pretentious? They shouldn't be. Alice Waters is right. I could really go off on this for ages, but I fear that I have already proved that I can't be terribly articulate about these sorts of things. But do read the article and think for yourself about it. Because I think we can all agree this isn't going away anytime soon.

The other article I read was from this week's NYT Dining section: "What's Eating Our Kids? Fears About 'Bad' Foods" by Abby Ellin. It just rubbed me wrong. Or maybe I'm only having one of those weeks... I guess I should have expected some backlash. But it just seems to me that the article is focusing on such an extreme example and holding it up as truth to all us foodies: Beware! Your kids could end up like this! Even the graphic accompanying the article is ridiculously sinister and foreboding. The article is focusing on the sensationalistic, the extreme and the alarmist. I'm disappointed.

Along these same notes, I have had some interesting discussions with Adam lately about drug addicts, religious fanatics, and foodies...and how they're all related. I made some flippant comment about religious zealots being a bit like drug addicts. Adam disagreed, pointing out that, if you were to ask a drug addict, they would probably agree that the whole world should not be addicted to drugs. The difficulty with the fanatical religious folks is that they think everyone should be addicted. Well, there's also a bit of this in the foodie too...and I have to admit there are certainly parallels. I've talked here, here, and here about the "conversion experience" and I totally want everyone else to have one. I don't understand why more people don't care and I desperately want to make them care: if only they could see, they would understand. I want people to see that the life of a foodie is the right one. Definitely parallels, I can't deny it.

I have some book reviews coming up so stay tuned. I promise they'll be frothy and fun...no more of this heavy dwelling. A little less coffee...more Champagne, please!


* Pleeeeeeeease forgive my blog post title. It's a quote from Pump Up the Volume. I couldn't resist.

REVIEW: Edible Schoolyard by Alice Waters

As I mentioned earlier, I received Alice Waters' Edible Schoolyard: A Universal Idea in the mail - again, thanks to Chronicle for the hook-up.

It took me about 20 minutes to read it in its entirety yesterday, as it is part information and part photoessay.  With that in mind, there's no reason why each of you shouldn't seek out this book.

As most of you have gathered from personal experience with me or from my blog alone, I have a propensity for gushing.  I'm just that way and, when I do gush about something, it is absolutely sincere; I assure you that when I don't like something, you'll know it (Don't even get me started on Edward Tulane.  Just don't.).  So I'm about to gush about Edible Schoolyard:

Inspired.  That is both the best word to describe Alice Waters' project and the way to describe how I felt post-reading.  I desperately wish I could share some choice quotes with you to show you what I mean, but Waters has such a lovely manner of storytelling that there isn't a way to share with you, unless I were to post paragraphs at a time.  Instead, I will share the "Principles of Edible Education", as listed by Waters:

FOOD IS AN ACADEMIC SUBJECT

A school garden, kitchen, and cafeteria are integral to the core academic mission of the school, so that ecology and gastronomy help bring alive every subject, from reading and writing to science and art.

SCHOOL PROVIDES LUNCH FOR EVERY CHILD

From preschool through high school, every child is served a wholesome, delicious meal, every day.  Good food is a right not a privilege.  Providing it every day brings children into a positive relationship with their health, their community, and the environment.

SCHOOLS SUPPORT FARMS

School cafeterias buy seasonally fresh food from local, sustainable farms and ranches, not only for reasons of health and education, but as a way of strengthening local food economies.

CHILDREN LEARN BY DOING

Hands-on education, in which the children themselves do the work in the vegetable beds and on the cutting boards, awakens their senses and opens their minds, both to their core academic subjects and to the world around them.

BEAUTY IS A LANGUAGE

A beautifully prepared environment, where deliberate thought has gone into everything from the garden paths to the plates on the tables, communicates to children that we are about them. 

The book demonstrates ways that the Edible Schoolyard put this into action at Martin Luther King Jr. Middle School in Berkeley, from the garden flowers that the kids put on the table to the ways that the garden was worked into the curriculum.  For instance, when the kids harvested the autumn squash, it was used in a lesson on circumference, mean, and median.  Recipes were given to them in one format, and the kids were told they needed to double the recipes (so they could practice their fractions).  They learned about ancient history, as they prepared meals as serfs and lords...the serfs, of course, getting no meat and much simpler fare.  On a non-curriculum level but more human level, Waters shows how the kids learn cooperation and manners, as eating at the school in this manner is oftentimes the only shared meal these kids have in a day.  And they learn that the kitchen and the table are a unifying, neutral place where people come together and share.

If you're looking for specifics on how to start an Edible Schoolyard program, this won't help you too much - it's very vague.  However, you'll learn the eye-opening tidbit that this certainly didn't happen overnight: the school didn't even have its first edibles until 3 years in because, naturally, the soil had to be primed for production.  Waters talks in 3-5-7+ year increments.  The other thing you'll learn is that, if you're interested in the Edible Schoolyard, you'll most likely have to look outside your school district: Waters makes it clear that there was no monetary support available from the school nor the district.  Everything came from donations, both materials and monies.  Waters definitely doesn't give a check-off list of ways to make this happen for your own community (if you've read Alice Waters and Chez Panisse , you'll understand that the way Edible Schoolyard came about was fairly typical of Waters); this could frustrate some readers.  On the other hand, Waters is all about creativity and innovation and, I think, that she leaves a lot of room for that.   As we know, the world's communities are so different and, to implement an Edible Schoolyard, it would certainly take some tailoring to your own specific neighborhood.  So I do encourage you to not get all black-and-white and institutional about this.  Instead, let us consider ways that we can do this in our own manner in our own communities.

This isn't a children's book; in fact, the school & libary marketing rep at Chronicle did let me know they were marketing to adults.  However, that isn't saying that this book doesn't have a place in parent/teacher collections in your children's room.  In fact, I think that would be a prime place for it.  The cover is gorgeous: put it face out and see what happens.  You could inadvertently inspire someone, which is often the best way to do so.  

This book has given me more food for thought than I had imagined, particularly as I am about to enter culinary school.  Yep, you heard it here.  I'm giving my down payment this week and getting fitted for my "whites" (Oh. My. God.).  So, as I enter the program, I'm thinking of ways I can make a difference.  Ways that I can inspire a "conversion experience" in others, just as I have experienced one myself.  And how to keep food, food policy, and the joys of the kitchen in the consciousness of as many people as possible.

Eat, drink, and make a difference though food.

Note: It should be added that, if you want the practicalities of implementing such a program at your local school(s), the Edible Schoolyard website offers lots of information and suggestions.  The website alone is fascinating, but it also helps supplement many of the book's points.

You've Got Mail!

I was sitting at my desk this morning and look, look, look what came in the mail:



Edible Schoolyard by Alice Waters!!! Thank you soooo much, Chronicle!

I browsed quickly through it, and the photos are gorgeous. I'll be sure to post an entire review once I read all the way through. However, I was thrilled when I spotted a page with "Principles of Edible Education." There are five principles total, which I'll share eventually, but here is the first one...just to whet your appetite:

FOOD IS AN ACADEMIC SUBJECT

A school garden, kitchen, and cafeteria are integral to the core academic mission of the school, so that ecology and gastronomy help bring alive every subject, from reading and writing to science and art.

Oh my god. It's like someone speaking directly to my soul. Not to be too dramatic or anything...

Eat, drink, and thank goodness we live in the same world as Alice Waters.

REVIEW: A Pig in Provence: Good Food and Simple Pleasures in the South of France by Georgeanne Brennan

I’m a Francophile. I suspect this is some sort of residual frustration over my two-week trip to Paris and Northern France when I was 17 years old: naturally, I didn’t appreciate the culture as much as I could have and was more excited to just hang out with my friends and eat lots of pastries. So now I’m an adult and it’s incredibly complicated to get back to France, which is ironic since I would “get it” so much more now. And, in my more self-pitying moments, I think about the wasted opportunity. In my more generous moments, I'm happy to have had the opportunity at all!

So I read. And I cook. I’m fascinated by those people who have gone to France and had a culinary epiphany: Julia Child, Alice Waters, MFK Fisher. Curiously, Georgeanne Brennan hasn’t made it into the canon of cooks who have had a “conversion experience” in France (unless I’m just running in the wrong circles and more people know of her work than I’m aware). Either way, her name deserves to be spoken in the same breath as these other fine women.

A Pig in Provence is a lovely, cozy read with an exquisite sense of place. It begins with Georgeanne, her then-husband Donald, and her 3-year-old daughter Ethel (all Californians) moving to Provence to raise goats and make goat cheese in the old-style that was no longer being made in the village at that time. Donald had studied animal husbandry at UC Davis, but Georgeanne was more inexperienced, and their initial bumbling steps to achieve their dream are amusing and heartwarming.

On the other hand, Brennan doesn’t sugar-coat things: think twice before owning goats – it ain’t just a walk in the park. Brennan makes it clear that a simple life, like simple food, doesn’t necessarily equal an easy life: the people of the village, Brennan included, work incredibly hard to provide sustenance for themselves and others.

In the midst of all this hard work, though, there is great joy…and food….oh, yes, there’s food. Brennan does a remarkable job of describing food and the meals they eat; you can taste the textures and hear the hiss of fat on the fire. Respectful of les arts de la table, Brennan also describes place settings, lighting, and ambience and all you want to do is be at that table underneath the trees with Georgeanne and all the lovely people she befriends in Provence. Or, better yet, I want to go mushroom hunting with Georgeanne after reading her incredible chapter on gathering wild mushrooms in the forest.

There are recipes included, but I have to confess that I’m reluctant to try them. It’s clear that Brennan makes them from the freshest ingredients imaginable, and I hesitate to make the poor urban version I would no doubt create. There are a couple of recipes, though, where I know I can get fresh, local, seasonal ingredients at Union Square: Tomato Tart (tarte aux tomates) for summer and Braised Pork Shoulder with Mustard and Capers (porc à l’ancienne avec moutarde et câpres). Brennan also has additional recipes posted on her website.

I highly recommend this book for fans of Child, Waters, and Fisher. Or, quite frankly, for those who love France and food. If you haven't been to France, this book will make you want to go. If you've already been, then you'll be longing to go again.

French Women Part Deux

"World's Healthiest Diet?"

It was only a matter of time.  Look for French Women Don't Get Fat II: Neither Do Mediterranean Women coming soon to a bookstore near you.

Likewise, the NYT Dining section today has an article, "Instead of Eating to Diet, They're Eating to Enjoy."  Quoting Alice Waters, Rachael Ray, et. al, the article basically touches on the principles of French Women...: eating for pleasure, eating respectfully, eating mindfully.  The article was okay, but I felt like it was a weight loss article in disguise.  What interested me was a quote by Arlene Sparks, a professor at Hunter College: "But [eating less processed food] would mean people going back to cooking, and what we've lost is people's ability and knowledge of how to cook."  I want to read an article on that, on the intimidation people feel being in the kitchen at all, on the fact we've lost all our roots.  I'm often puzzled when I read cookbooks and articles where someone references a recipe "passed down from" their grandmother or mother.  Because I certainly don't have that.  And I would venture that a lot of people in America don't.  So where do we learn how to cook?

Eat, drink, and thank goodness that Food Network has brought cooking into American homes.

California Adventures: Part II

Our California vacation had a number of legs to it:

1) Me in Anaheim, while Adam and the Kiddo were at my parents’ house in El Dorado County;

2) All three of us at my parents’ house;

3) Kiddo at my parents’ house while Adam and I were in San Francisco for three days;

4) I fly back to NYC alone and Adam stays in Cali for two more days, working in Mountain View;

5) Adam and I are in NYC for a week sans Kiddo;

6) My mom flies Kiddo back to NYC and stays three days;

7) My mom leaves and it’s just the three of us again.

Do you have any idea how many one-way tickets we had to buy to make this all happen???? Ah, but it was so worth it. We had a glorious time.

After many tears and stress leaving Kiddo with my family, we drove the short distance to our friends’ house on the Berkeley border: Amy and Lisa, of Simple Things Made Great and The Great Malaise, respectively. They have a daughter who is beyond darlingness and helped me feel better about leaving my own girl behind. Knowing that we’d need a “post-family cocktail”, Lisa had drinks waiting: Lillet and seltzer over ice with a slice of lemon. Aaaaaaah, yeah. That is now my go-to summer refresher.

Amy and Lisa have truly made an oasis in the middle of the city: classic details in their home with everything updated that needs to be, a lovely patio complete with BBQ and a patch of grass, music always playing. Amy arrived home and, while we read stories to their daughter, they created the perfect summer patio meal: marinated chicken (I believe it was chicken…it’s been awhile now…), an orzo-esque pasta that had a playful texture compared to the meat and the vegetables. It was refreshing and satisfying, and there was the right amount so that we were content but not overstuffed. Amy, consider this a public plea for the recipe…

Amy is currently taking a course to be a Certified Sommelier (because she’s a rock star) so Lisa took us into “The City” for a Food Extravaganza. We started off at The Ferry Building and the farmers’ market outside. Unfortunately, since we were leaving the next day, we couldn’t buy anything perishable – I nearly cried bypassing the cheeses, the squash blossoms, the nectarines, the heirloom tomatoes. Lisa introduced us to Blue Bottle Coffee Co., which was on par with Ninth Street: we were immediately smitten. We ate at Boccalone and shared one of their “cones”, which is literally a paper snowcone cup, filled with the day’s selection of three meats. Adam eyed their fridge filled with cured meats, drooling, wishing that we were instantly rich so that he could install one in our apartment. We longingly passed up the Cowgirl Creamery, knowing that cheese would be difficult to transport home. We bought pluot butter and the freshest trail mix EVER from the purveyor outside. It was all so decadent and deliciously overwhelming.

At that point, Lisa had an errand to run so we headed up to the Mission District (San Francisco actually has fantastic public transportation…which I kept pointing out to Adam in an attempt to convince him that we could move back to the West Coast…someday). Um, and the Mission District is fantastic. It’s the Chelsea NYC of San Francisco. Lisa took us to a darling café, which I can’t remember the name of, where I had some mighty powerful sangria and we just sat against an ivy-strewn wall next to the sidewalk and watched everything go by. Perfection. How did Lisa know that people-watching and drinking sangria are two of my favorite things to do in the summer?

But then I stood up. I foolishly didn’t have anything to eat…and WOO! I felt that sangria! So we headed to a local taco place – which, crap-a-lacka, I can’t remember the same of that place either. Alas, we were hoping for a respite from the heat because The City was uncharacteristically hot that day, but it wasn’t meant to be: the taco place was unairconditioned, for heavens’ sake. So Adam bought four bottles of water and we half-heartedly ate our tacos, just so we could say we tried them. On our way back to the train, we passed gorgeous murals, cute buildings, and lots of great-looking restaurants and cafes. Yeah, I really think I could live there.

From there, it was back to Berkeley to worship at the House of Alice Waters, otherwise known as Chez Panisse. I have no pictures to show you because, you know, that would be sacrilege to snap-snap-snap away on such hallowed ground…not to mention that it would bother other diners and interrupt our conversation flow. Unfortunately, I can’t relate too much, as it’s been a rather long time since we were even there. We ate upstairs in the café because it takes a lifetime, and your unborn child, to get a rezzie in the downstairs section. No matter, I’m more of a café person anyway. Adam (and I believe Amy as well) had salads for a starter with local goat cheese – everything on the menu had its provenance listed. Lisa and I split a pizzette that was perfectly crisped and flavorful. Adam and Amy had the duck for dinner, with the most expertly-done crispy skin I have ever experienced, with a juicy interior that just melted like buttah in your mouth. Adam accused me of being unimaginative (okay, Mr. Salad-with-Goat-Cheese), but I had the grass-fed local steak, rare, with the batter-fried onions. Ooooooh. It was fabulosa. Lisa had the salmon which, curiously, I didn’t ask her if I could try it. She had nothing but great things to say about it. In the meantime, our service was impeccable and the open kitchen was a joy to watch: with the fresh, seasonal, local ingredients, the kitchen staff only had to do what was necessary to enhance the dishes so there was this Zen-ness to their movements and preparation that was a joy to watch and, I believe, permeated throughout the room so that all the diners felt it. Dessert entailed a local peach tart for me and Adam and affogato for Lisa and Amy. Overall, it was heavenly and wonderful and everything I had hoped for. A pinnacle, truly.

Thus ended the California leg of our adventure. The next day, Adam drove off to Mountain View, while I nearly missed my plane since I messed up the times in my head. It was the only time in my life, thus far, that I was relieved to have my flight delayed by two hours: it is the only reason I was actually able to make the flight.

Eat, drink, and say goodbye to California for the time being

Dream Come True!

Guess where I'm going to lunch on Tuesday, July 8th. Just...guess.

Thanks, Amy and Lisa, for getting the rezzie!!!!

Lots of Food, Part II

I went to a panel discussion at the New School last week on Julia Child, and it was fascinating, inspiring stuff. Check out the line-up: Joan Reardon, Judith Jones, Laura Shapiro, and Molly O’Neill. And if you don’t know who these people are, I urge you to do some Googling. Each speaker was engaging and interesting, full to the brim with funny stories and anecdotes about Julia Child.

One of the many things I appreciated was that Molly O’Neill shared that Julia’s public persona was not an act – Julia was funny and brassy and a complete “goofball”. Molly also mentioned how lucky Julia was to have an editor that encouraged her to be “real”; to which Judith Jones replied that Julia was incredibly humble and Judith absolutely had to encourage Julia to let her personality show.

Additionally, I believe it was Laura who talked about Julia’s “conversion experience” in France. Likewise, Alice Waters and MFK Fisher had experiences of their own in France. Laura described it as that moment when a person is turned on to and discovers a whole new way of eating, cooking, and enjoying food. To the point when your whole life changes in reaction to your experience. This experience gives you a new gold standard by which all other food is measured. Hearing this was like a bell going off in my head. I had a “conversion experience.” My best friend had a “conversion experience.” I daresay that all the people I know who are deeply passionate and excited about food had such an experience. I want to sit in a room with 20 people and share our conversion experiences because each one would be so different, informed by such diverse backgrounds. But I love the idea of something clicking in one’s head as they take that first delectable bite…and you’ll never be the same again.

Lastly, one thing that Molly said struck me (because Molly was a hilarious and interesting speaker): Julia, for better or for worse, made cooking a white-collar experience, whereas it was once a blue-collar industry. I don't enough about the history of cooking and restaurants to comment on Molly's statement; nevertheless, I do find that an interesting point and it has inspired me to do more research to find out when that change took place. Because Molly is right: certainly in America, cooking is, to some degree, a white-collar activity. I guess that this is in large part, particularly in recent months, because of the price of "good" food. But how does Julia Child fit into this? I don't know yet...but I'm reading more to find out...

Lethal Weapon 2, SLJ, and food

It’s Saturday night, dinner is finished, and I know where my kid is….in bed! So naturally that means I won’t be with you people long because I have a husband to watch Lethal Weapon 2 with. So here are the bullet points:

- Get a good laugh over at Thursday Night Smackdown and their latest post. Want a preview? Check this out: “Tofu? Tofucked.” I mean, really. How much
better does it get?*

- How many times do I have to tell you people?! FOOD and CHILDREN’S LITERATURE are related! School Library Journal has an article on Alice Waters’ work with schools, children, and nutrition. I don’t know, though. Does this really mean that food and children’s lit are related…or that SLJ is just getting on board the We-Love-Alice-Waters train finally? Yeah, yeah guys, grab a ticket because we all love her.

- Um, New York was overcast and 93 degrees today. Tomorrow…get this…is supposed to be raining and 98 degrees. Seriously. And people gave me so much crap about living in Arizona – NYC is So Much Worse when it gets like this.

- I finished my 2^nd How to Cook class at ICE today. Made stuff that I knew how to make. But totally got some one-on-one time with the chef and kinda wish I could hang out with her. She and I would chat and she’d be called away to help another group…then she’d come back of her own accord and pick up our conversation where we left off. Others were probably annoyed at this (I totally would have been); however, as the object of her affection, I had a great time. She’s no-nonsense and tough but she is so clearly passionate about food. I totally have hero worship right now.

Crap. The Husband just came out of the shower: “You finishing a blog post? Ready to watch the movie?” So that’s adieu to all of you so I can watch that friggin brilliant scene in LW2 when Danny Glover and Joe Pesci are in the South African embassy. Oh, you know how funny that scene is! You don’t? Well, then, you and I might not get along.

Eat, drink, and enjoy your Saturday night.

* FYI - I don't say this nonchalantly because I passionately feel that I should be open-minded to any and all foods. However, there is one food I don't think you'll ever see on my blog...and that is tofu. Looking for that special blog about the relationship between tofu and children's literature? This one isn't it. But I'm sure that blog exists out there...somewhere...

Extra! Extra! Children's Librarian Leads Discussion on Adult Books!

Once again, my job and food somehow end up intersecting. Every week, my division (Collection Development) has a meeting to try to keep our act together (or get our act together, depending on who you ask). I’m the only “kiddie lit” person there; otherwise, it’s the coordinator, the manager, and the two adult selectors. Our YA selector, just to keep things interesting, is in an entirely differently department. The result of all this is that I sit through a 2-hour meeting every week that has very little to do with children’s literature.

But – hark! – last week the “adult people” started planning their next genre workshop. They pick a topic (past topics have been graphic novels, literary fiction, and narrative nonfiction), limit the attendance to 15 people, and have a discussion about the characteristics of that genre. They ask everyone who attends to read at least one book from the genre beforehand. Some people participate because they either 1) know nothing about the genre and want to learn more, or 2) are passionate about the genre and want to meet others who feel the same. So the adult people were planning the next workshop and looking for topics. I couldn’t resist: I piped up, “What about foodie books?” I fully expected derisive eye-rolling because 1) I’m a “kiddie lit” person, 2) I’ve never even been to one of their genre workshops, and 3) everyone is so sick of me talking about food all the time. But no! I got nods and smiles and warm rays of light coming from the adult people. So I continued: “Not just cookbooks, because that’s a genre in and of itself. But I’m talking about books like Omnivore’s Dilemma, Alice Waters and Chez Panisse…books like that. Biographies, travelogues that center around food, tell-alls from the restaurant world.” So H. says, “That’s a great idea. Who wants to lead it?” Before I could clamp my big ol’ mouth shut, I squeak excitedly, “Me!”

So here I am. As if I didn’t have enough to do. But the truth is, I’m completely excited. I have a brief opportunity to expand my daily job to include children’s books and foodie books. It’s a rare opportunity so I fully intend on having fun and running with it. Naturally, I already have titles spinning around in my head:

Books I’ve Read –

- The Amateur Gourmet: How to Shop, Chop, and Table Hop Like a Pro by Adam Roberts
- Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
- Don't Try This at Home: Culinary Catastrophes from the World's Greatest Chefs by Kimberly Witherspoon

- French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano (the book responsible for this journey I'm on)
- From Here You Can’t See Paris: Seasons of a French Village and its Restaurant by Michael S. Sanders (my review)
- Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl
- Heirloom: Notes of an American Tomato Farmer by Tim Stark
- Julie and Julia by Julie Powell
- Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain
- Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan
- The Perfect Egg and Other Secrets by Aldo Buzzi

Books On My To-Read List:

- Eating My Words: An Appetite for Life by Mimi Sheraton
- Home Cooking: A Writer in the Kitchen by Laurie Colwin
- In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto by Michael Pollan
- Kitchen Mysteries: Revealing the Science of Food by Herve This
- Lunch Lessons: Changing the Way We Feed Our Children by Ann Cooper
- Molecular Gastronomy: Exploring the Science of Flavor by Herve This
- My Life in France by Julia Child
- An Omelette and a Glass of Wine by Elizabeth David
- Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter by Phoebe Damrosch
- We’ve Always Had Paris…and Provence by Patricia Wells

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg – there are about 10 books more on my to-read list that I didn’t even note here. Anyone have anything else for me to add to my booklist? Remember, it’s for posterity. I plan on bringing a big list to the workshop.

Eat, drink, and read whenever you’re not cooking

YAY! Friday?!

Oh, for god's sake! This week has kicked my arse! Apologies for the tardiness!

I'll get to the Dining section first and then I'll post later about yesterday's Spring 2008 preview at Random House and my lovely lunch with Melissa Marr this past Monday.

I was all flushed and happy when I saw Alice Waters on the front of my Dining section - Alice Waters! - and excited to read more. I've had Alice Waters and Chez Panisse by Thomas McNamee on my bookshelf for awhile, but I haven't read it yet. So I felt like the Alice Waters article in the Times gave me a sneak preview without the time commitment. If you're a fan of hers, check out the article yourself. Otherwise, I don't know if it'll appeal to you. But I do have to share that Alice Waters is a woman who travels with her own olive oil, capers, and homemade vinegar. Seriously. Now that is hard-core. On one hand, I feel like dismissing it as pretension, rigidity, and hard-headedness. And yet...you have admire that sort of dedication to the experience of food, you know?

In less happy news (because it makes me wicked jealous), there was a tidbit about the new coffee bar in Chelsea Market, Ninth Street Espresso. Why am I jealous? Because right now Adam works across the street from the Market and can run across anytime he wants. Why am I super duper jealous? Because by the end of the year he'll be working in the Chelsea Market building, rather than across the street, in a space that looks like Jennifer Beals' apartment in Flashdance. Not. Fair.

There's a recipe for poached plums. But I don't know how I feel about that. I'm a purist when it comes to my plums - I just want to take a yummy bite of them, unadorned, swoon-worthy in all its simplicity. Everything else just seems pretentious.

There's also a little review of a book, Knife Skills Illustrated: A User's Manual by Peter Hertzmann (W.W. Norton, 2007). The review is, overall , positive...but I have to wonder how much you can really learn from a book about using your knife. I'll absolutely have to check this out from the library and see what I can get out of it. (Note: apparently the book gives all directions in right-hand and left-hand. Pretty cool, n'est-ce pas? I'm not left-handed, but still...)

Tucked away in a corner is a recipe for Skirt Steak with Rainbow Peppers, under the headline "A Colorful Salute to Summer's End." But, you know, I just can't get into that. Summer? Whatever. That was so yesterday. I'm moving on to gourds, sage, and fennel. And duck breasts and buffalo steaks. It was 82 degrees and sunny today but there was still this wispy breeze that had a bit of a chill to it. God, I love the promise of fall.