Rutting=Ragout

This time of year is charged with so much energy!  The Autumnal Equinox always breeds exciting change.  This last surge of summer energy (and heat), in preparation for the "slow down" of winter, inspires the last of the outdoor get-togethers. The magical, balmy nights of Indian Summer...
Nature knows~
It's also the beginning of the rut. The other day, I came across 3 bucks (deer) on my way "down the hill," all dazed with the intoxication of hormones!  They didn't know whether to come or go!  It is no different in our barnyard.  Our two old rams, friends most of the time, turn their backs on each other twice a year, in a frenzy to mate with the ewes.

There was no more room for our 6 month old li'l guy, whose sprouting horns indicated he was ready to enter the fray. Three's a crowd, and our freezer was empty!
The advent of the full moon this past Saturday meant perfect timing for the slaughter. Quickly and reverently, we let him know how grateful we were that he would be the source of some memorable holiday meals, shared with only our closest friends.
We carefully seam-butchered him last night.
All day today my house has been full of the most amazing aromas...end of season tomatoes, ample garlic, the remnants of a bottle of bordeaux...and the thick neck...a part that my friend Pat Kuleto taught me to covet when I had my first experiences butchering his estate raised lamb. It was also the part most revered buy Thomas Keller on his visit to Kuleto Estate back when I was the chef, where I had a beautiful server offer it, table-side, as the last accompaniment to a Tudor style feast.   
The lamb's liver, kidneys, and heart...will all find their way into a celebratory terrine, wrapped in the caul lining and served with my friend Shannon's quinces, that I lovingly preserved in spices, honey, and local apple cider vinegar.
The legs, bone in and ready for the spit, with 24 varieties of chilis from the garden will await our Aussie friend's visit, with a bottle of Jasper Hill, Emily's Paddock Shiraz. Post-thanksgiving feast?
The racks, likely will be our Winter Solstice quiet dinner for two...
Just another day in the life of Two Funky Gourmets!



 

Crop Circles

(While enjoying the present...)

I have always sought
For something
Just beyond the next mountain
Around the next bend

An amorphous quest
The journey never ends
Forever an adventure
Beyond expectation

As I look back through the window
At yesterday
I am not she
Although I liked her well
  
Never afraid
To walk the next road
Cobble, dirt
The infinite ether

Food
My medium

Nourishing others

Beyond the expected

Each bite
Becomes part of the whole
Becomes one's thoughts
Enables the breath

Steady
One foot in front of the other
From one bite to the next
Contemplation

Contemplation
Decision
Direction
Up, up, away...

Where are you going?
What is your next bite?





 

Impromptu Dinner

After an impromptu weekend at the coast, we arrived back on the hill Monday morning in a state of denial that we had to return to "reality," ours, which is idyllic in countless ways...
Nonetheless, we had to go our separate ways for a while, and try to be productive.
For me, after a long work stint, that meant opening a cold Arrogant Bastard Ale, pouring it into my favorite antique pewter mug, and settling into my teak reading chair on the deck to peruse a few new books I had picked up on our trip, one of which was a vintage copy of a La Varenne textbook.
Then the phone rang.
Typical for us, a memorable evening came about spontaneously, inspired by a single ingredient....
Our neighbor (and they are very few) had gone fishing off the coast over the weekend and happened to catch a blue fin tuna~a rare and special fish.  He had saved for us a choice piece of loin.  (This neighbor is also the one who keeps us in good supply of wild pheasant, boar, and other tasty critters. We, in turn keep his egg supply filled, the honey pot full, and the red wine cellar stocked with special bottles).  He was so excited to give it to us, and kept asking how we were going to "COOK" it.  We kept trying to explain that we were going to do just the opposite...
At that point I was visiting with my other neighbor, and so we invited her to partake of our gift.  She has a lovely garden, so we picked some thick leafed, dark green bok choy, zesty mustard greens, peppery nasturtium, a few candy-sweet red cherry tomatoes, and two big heirlooms.
I had a couple zucchini and eggplant from my work garden, and a bevy of high-falutin asian accoutrements~white shoyyu, aged rice wine vinegar, wasabi, etc.
While we prepared dinner, we sipped a chardonnay from my friend up in Mendocino county, that she lovingly left in my refrigerator on her last visit.
Laid out in a matter of minutes was the most delectable feast: sliced garden tomatoes, a cucumber & garden greens capellini with a rippin' hot vinaigrette of wasabi and chilis from the garden (we like it HOT), and grilled baby zucchini and eggplant drizzled with the aged rice wine vinegar and some of our own olive oil.
The blue fin tuna, perfectly sliced with my razor sharp Japanese blade sushi knife was regal in its vivid purple display, and we payed momentary homage to it before "digging in," with the utmost civility. We sipped a rose made by our dear friend in Sancerre, knowing he and his family would love to be a part of this most precious repast.
You never know where the day will take you~
And so it goes, the life of Two Funky Gourmets!

"The Last Supper"

Where does the time go?  My lack of posting borders on embarrassing, although I think we are all too familiar with the fleeting of time as of late.  It will not get any easier, I surmise.
I am on my last day of a 35 day work run-similar to the last post. 35 days of lunches and dinners, sometimes both in the same day, ranging from 2 people to 100.  It is no holds barred time to showcase food at its best, with a measure of elegant restraint.  Needless to say, it is a challenge to come up with non-repeating appetizers, entrees and desserts everyday.  Add personal "preferences," and you've got a recipe for a marathon!
My friend gave me his collection of cookbooks to peruse.  He tells me I remind him of a mixture of Alain Passard and Eric Ripert, but with my own style.  What an amazing compliment!  This morning, I opened up the first of them with a cup of tea.
Humbly, I indeed saw myself, and every other chef I know, amongst the pages.  There, nestled in the recipes, I drew a final breath of inspiration to conjure up my last magical meal for two very special clients~

Here's to crossing the finish line!!!

Winding Down to Wind Up

It is 12:15 am, and I am sipping a cold Anchor Steam as I wind down from another more than 12 hour day.  No complaints, rather, I am in the midst of one of my busiest months of the year!  Three weeks, dinner every night, no repetitions, unless requested.  Throw in a couple 5 course dinners and a 4 course lunch (all same day, back to back), and I'm inspired to stay on my toes!
Today, guinea fowl, confit leg and pan roasted breast, with fresh peas and carrots, and a rich potato puree.  Oh, and the most exquisite consomme...Yesterday marjoram ravioli (homemade pasta, of course), filled with locally made ricotta cheese, local rosemary ham, lemon zest, and sauteed kale, served in a lovely rich pork broth.  For dessert?  Tonight, fresh spun Pimm's frozen yogurt, made with Bellwether Farms yummy sheep's milk, and my secret stash of Mendocino preserved quince, and pecan shortbreads.  Yesterday, Pink Lady apple tartletts with prune Armagnac gelato and Frangelico caramel.

I'll keep you posted!

Pigs in the Blanket

It was inspired by a head of garden Savoy cabbage that begged a proper culinary appointment~
'Twas a cold blustery day, and no longer could I ignore the fond recollection of a delicious dish my mother made when we were young.  I remember the joy I felt (and the immediate salivation) when my brother and I would ask what was for dinner, prompted no doubt by the whiffs of goodness coming from the kitchen, and she would give us the answer: Pigs in the Blanket.
With only a memory and a mission to accomplish (Mom was not available for a phone consultation at that moment), I headed to the market to fetch the missing ingredients on my grocery list.
I chose to use ground veal, although was sure that in my humble Midwestern location, beef would have been the more readily available choice.  Garlic, onion, and ample herbs: marjoram, parsley, and thyme were scooped into the basket as well.  At home I had the rest: veal stock, rice, Marsala, farm fresh eggs, and homemade tomato sauce.
I began the sauce while I made the meatballs.  As the sauce simmered, the house began to smell like our Michigan Lake House!  I felt as though I was there!  I carefully wrapped the delicate balls into their blanched cabbage "blankets," and secured them with the distinctive "criss-cross" of two wooden toothpicks.  How exciting it would be to unwrap those little juicy gems, as they released their steam of scented bliss!  In they went, into the garlicky tomato, Marsala, and beef broth, to simmer for several hours in my copper dutch oven.
I invited The Boy Next Door, and he arrived, a bit skeptical about my "Pigs in the Blanket."  I opened an unassuming wine from a friend, called "Vittorio's Secret," feeling like a "Dago" red would be perfect with this rustic family favorite.
Indeed, it was!  The Boy, as it turned out, had fond memories of a Jewish deli, visited as a young lad.  His favorite treat was just this dish~we shared an Eastern European rooted passion for this unassuming peasant food!  We said little, but sipped and slurped our way down memory lane, with juicy satisfaction on our smiling faces. And we happily ate the rest for the next three nights.
Although I recall my mother's "Pigs" as being the best, (and they always will be), my version satisfied a deep yearning for both of us grown up kids~
Here's to preserving traditions!

Ode to a Spring Sunday

This Sunday, like every Sunday, found The Boy Next Door and I pleasantly enjoying the bucolic life. The recent rains yielded to giant, puffy clouds, with plenty of sunshine to warm things up enough to enjoy the one day respite we so look forward to.
First, a quiet morning by the crackling wood stove, sipping hand harvested lemon verbena tea.  Next, an invigorating soak in the dead sea salt hot tub.
After a healthy breakfast of "green eggs," ample garden kale and collards with softly scrambled fresh eggs laid that very morning, I decided to harvest and preserve the Japanese kumquats that were at their peak juiciness.  A simple syrup lightly enhanced with some coriander seed, fresh ginger, and Meyer lemon zest from our trees, provided the preserving goodness that will allow us to enjoy these little gems for the upcoming months, when everyone else has forgotten them...
Mid afternoon, and it was time to let the sheep out to pasture.  Perched in our chairs, we are always amused at their antics.  The four little lambs tease one another, and jump around jovially.  Precociously, they venture into whatever areas their minds fancy; they are no different than little human children, and we never tire of watching them play in the sunshine.  Murano glasses contain Negronis, accented with the kumquats, of course~perfect for the show.
A bit later, time for a snack.  While he lit the fire by the pool, I assembled the edible accoutrements.   A jar of salmon rillettes I made a few weeks ago, with fresh brioche, toasted on the top of the wood stove.  And a bottle of Jacquelynn Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon blend from our buddy at Chateau Boswell rounded things off in a most rich and satisfying way.
All the day, in the well worn dutch oven given to me years ago by a close chef friend, the leg of lamb we smoked last weekend simmered with a jar of last year's preserved tomatoes, generous garlic and chilis, homemade lamb stock, and a montage of Rancho Gordo beans.  It became dinner, served with our last bottle of our buddy Dave's Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir, with a garden salad of mixed chicories.

Life doesn't get much more perfect.

Catching Up

Today is the Spring Equinox~the time to plant our seeds for this year's garden harvest. So I felt it fitting to finally post again, after a hiatus that has lasted over two years.
Although the spring equinox is about the future, it is only by careful consideration of the past that we can thoughtfully conceive our choices.
My process always begins with a hike.  I have always believed that if we walk a path long enough, the answers to our questions will be answered.  Sometimes a quick stroll does the trick, sometimes it takes miles of grueling terrain.  Some answers are never revealed.   But we will not know unless we get out there and put one foot in front of the other.
It took about 4 miles before all of my mind's chatter gave way.  Then, the world became only the birds' chirping, the frogs' croaking, the streams gurgling, and the wind whispering.  That is the place where treasure is found.
The last two years have brought much change for me.  Two prospective (to put it lightly) restaurant locations have come and gone.  At this time last year, I thought I would be steering the helm of The Bewildered Pig ship.  It wasn't until the fall equinox of last year that I realized that it was not going to happen, after months of hard work, and lots of money.  I needed the quiet of winter to understand the lesson(s).
A year ago, almost to the date, I said my final farewell to the beautiful winery estate at which I created a masterpiece of a culinary program, as the winery had sold and no longer did my friend and mentor (Pat Kuleto) employ his extraordinary vision to the business.  Pat had created a fertile space, and in it, I planted everything imaginable!  My harvest was so incredibly plentiful, and I am exceedingly grateful. It had been seven years.
At that very time, as I released the Kuleto kitchen and the second restaurant space from my tight grasp, a new opportunity arose.  Of course!
A most distinguished winery was in need of a resident chef.  After a lengthy process, I accepted a very tasteful offer, and am now the chef for one of the most respected wineries in the world.  That was a year ago, April.
So here I am today. After two years of trying to steer my ship against the wind, I have decided that I will revel in the now, and resume on a more comfortable course!
This spring, I shall plant several varieties of patience, as I am always in need of that.  Open mindedness is also big on my list.  As a Taurus (bull) and Ox (Chinese sign), I tend to be a bit opinionated.  My garden can always use more compassion, as its sweetness knows no opposition.  The bulbs of lightheartedness are also infinitely sweet, and I can use that, as my goals and convictions tend to weigh on me heavily.  Top it off with a sprinkling more discernment, and I'm good to go!
Happy Equinox!