I'm lucky to be the occasional recipient of Josey Baker experimentations. The other day Josey handed me a still-hot loaf of 100% einkorn bread - substantial, fragrant, a dark brown crumb with a craggy top-crust.
I've been waking up on the early side lately, and tend to do a bit of reading before the sun rises. Which means(!
I'm deep in the middle of a streak where I cook primarily from other people's cookbooks. Every now and then it's a groove I fall into, sometimes lasting a few weeks, other times a month or two.
Not that I need much encouraging, but I've been compiling a good number of older cookbooks - early titles by authors I love, first editions, and such.
I'm not much of a menu collector, although I have a small stack of gems in one of my desk drawers. A good number of them are menus from past meals at Bar Tartine.
Everyone should have a green juice recipe in their repertoire, and this one is a ringer. Its heart and soul is straight green, not at all sweet, with a good amount of lemon-lime tang, and invigorating ginger lift.
I'm in France right now, for a relatively quick trip. Or, another way to think of it, a quick trip flanked by two long flights.
One of the things I love about having a work studio is our location. It means most days, at one point or another, I find myself standing in the middle of San Francisco's Chinatown.
Muhammara (or mouhamara) is something I love to turn people on to. It's a traditional red pepper spread originating from Syria made with a beguiling blend of red peppers, walnuts, olive oil, pomegranate molasses, and a handful of other ingredients - depending on the cook.
I suspect we've talked about this before. I fight a losing battle to keep my kitchen under control. Looking at the counter tops this morning I see - Corsican honey, clary sage-blackberry honey, also olive blossom honey.
I make homemade ghee from good butter every few weeks. It's a process I enjoy, and it yields one of my favorite cooking mediums.
Friends - we finally have shelving in the QUITOKEETO studio. It's a small miracle. There's a still a centimeter of dust on the floor, and an 1800s bathroom to deal with - in short, many other small miracles need to happen if we think we're going to open the doors to anyone aside from our UPS guy.
A lot of the fruit salads this time of year are sweet. Juicy, ripe fragrant fruit with a sweet dressing - summer bliss bite after bite.
One of the things I've most enjoyed experimenting with over the past year is broths. I suppose the style of broths I'm interested in would technically be considered vegetable broths.
What you can't see in the photos here is the river running just a few feet out of frame. You can't smell the pine and redwood or their sun-warmed tree bark.
Once or twice a year, I buy a pineapple. It feels like a strange thing to purchase in San Francisco. Pineapples = hot tropics, beaches, bare feet, and endless summers.
This coming weekend I'm planning a break from the fog. If all goes well, there will be sun-bright days, star-lit skies, pine trees, bare feet, and eating outdoors.
Simply stated, this is a spinach recipe you should try. It's an adaptable dish that downshifts seamlessly from main attraction to supporting role depending on the quantity of leftovers at hand.
For the time being the QUITOKEETO studio has no kitchen. It has a warhorse of a sink with two of the legs truncated, but that's about it.
The flowers of the elderberry plant - Sambucus nigra - are tiny pale stars. Thousands of the blossoms form intensely aromatic galaxies this time of year, and if you're lucky (and in the right region), you'll come across them.