July 2009 – Into the Woods

Honoring the tomato sandwich

Few things make better eatin’ than a tomato sandwich. And you only get them a couple of months a year, when tomatoes are in high season. Last summer, after 17 years in California, I was so starved for a tomato sandwich that I went out and bought some Bunny bread, which, in my opinion, is the best of the country-style white breads available around here.

This year, though, I’ve focused on lower carb alternatives to white-bread tomato sandwiches. Chapati bread, which I wrote about last week, serves very well. Just smear mayonnaise on a piece of the chapati bread and have some tomato, with a fork.

One of the things I’ve taken for granted since childhood is that, in July and August, there should be a row of tomatoes in the window above the kitchen sink, ripening in the sun. Does everyone do this? Or is it just something that ran in my family?

Some old photos

Gladys and me, Winston-Salem, circa 1989. Photo by Gavin. Gladys had a stroke soon after this and completely lost the use of her legs. She slowly recovered, but she limped and dragged one of her hind feet for the rest of her life. She was the crippled collie. Gavin and I both were with her the day she died, in San Francisco, 1993. She is buried near Inverness on the Point Reyes peninsula.

My oldest friend is Gavin Geoffrey Dillard. We go back to 1972 or so. Gavin has been scanning photos from his collection.

Gavin Geoffrey Dillard, Tobaccoville, North Carolina, circa 1984. Photographer uncertain, possibly me.

Christopher Isherwood and Don Bachardy, Los Angeles, circa 1985. Photo by Gavin.

In fact…

In fact, Lily has gotten so at-home in the new house that she is rooting her way into the most important spot in the house — my computer chair. Never mind that I got two identical chairs, one for her and one for me. She wants my chair.

Quoi? Moi?

Evicted and grouchy

Update, 30 minutes later: She moved to her own chair.

Cats and new houses

It has taken time and patience for Lily to accept the new house as home. She’s known this place for a year from her cozy little trailer up the hill, but it’s always been associated with loud noises and strange traffic.

I’ve taken a bit of a vacation after the painters left three weeks ago. I needed the time off, and Lily needed the quiet time in the new house so that she could start seeing it as home. She has adapted, and I do believe she likes it. She’ll like it even better when I bring in the furniture, and more rugs.

But I do still have to paint the bathrooms and finish some woodwork. The floor that Lily is sitting on here, for example, has not yet had the finish applied.

Carolina peaches

These peaches came from eastern North Carolina. I bought them at a produce stand at Germanton.

California agriculture is so incredible that I don’t lightly make the claim that there are some things that grow better on the East Coast. But I do make that claim about two things: tomatoes and peaches. Southern tomatoes have to be homegrown to be really good, but I’ve never had a California tomato as good as a proper homegrown Southern tomato. As for peaches, they grow best in the sandy soils of eastern North and South Carolina and parts of Georgia.

I made a vegan version of peaches and cream by mixing peach preserves (homemade by neighbors earlier this week) with soy milk. The acid in the peaches caused the soy milk to thicken, making it as rich as cream.

Before the sauce went on

What's beneath the eggs ?

Guest Post by Anivid

Is it sauercraut ??
Is it beans ??
Is it rice ??
NOPE 😉
It’s hash brown …… sort of.
Hash Brown made of raw potatoes, which after grating is placed in a strainer, and rinsed thoroughly in lots of water until the outgoing water is free of cloudyness.
– and why is that ? – for extracting the starch which else would be responsible for the whole item clotting together in a kind of porridge 😉
Then the grated, washed potatoes are placed in a cloth, wrapped up tight and squeezed until the water is drained.
Next some parsley (or other tasty, healthy stuff like grated carrots*) is added – and the mix placed on a hot oiled frying pan.
Fried on both sides – or all over (stirred, not shaken 😉
Then we place some roasted champignons at the side – and fried eggs on top.
Voila – enjoy !!
* The root of plants being just like the egg of birds – it contains everything necessary for the whole individual to grow & unfold 😉

After the sumptuous meal we take a little chicory coffee for rounding off.

Signing out: Anivid, Southern France, Gastronomy & Culture.

Living to be 100

The Island of the Ancients

The Huffington Post has an article today on the growing number of people living to be 100 years old. One of the reasons cited for this is “improved diet.”

I think it would have been more accurate to say “the possibility of improved diet.” The diet of the average American has decidedly not improved. The July 20 issue of the New Yorker trumps the Time magazine piece on why Southerners are so fat with a piece on why Americans are so fat. The position of the New Yorker piece seems to be that the obesity epidemic of the past few decades has primarily been caused by corporate influences — food engineering, corporate agriculture, corporate research on food’s addictive qualities, pushing larger portions, marketing, etc.

We can take advantage of brilliant new research on diet and health, we can take advantage of the availability of healthier foods, and we can cook the right stuff for ourselves at home. Or we can eat what television commercials tell us to eat and make certain corporations richer. That’s what it really boils down to.

On the absence of color contrast

Looking through the radio room railing to the living room fireplace

I’ve had a lot of doubts about the lack of contrast in my interior color scheme. The pine floors are lot like the rosy beige walls, the pine trim, the gray-pink marble, and even the almond Formica in the kitchen. I made the decision not to stain the wood and alter the natural colors, though, not out of an opposition to contrast, but rather out of a sense of honesty and humility in the materials used. Pine is pine. Formica is Formica. It would be dishonest, in my mind, for pine and Formica to try to pretend to be something they aren’t. Pine, like all children, is beautiful just the way it is.

So I was interested to find a piece in the Washington Post about a decorator — a Southerner, no less — who intentionally avoids color contrast.

I am reminded of advice I’ve given other people often enough: Just do what feels right to you and don’t be overly influenced by the opinions of others. Still, I am pleased to know that there are professorial decorators who agree that lack of contrast does not necessarily indicate a lack of imagination.

I am reminded of a time some years ago when a friend made fun of me for singing what he thought was a silly and obsolete old song, “My Funny Valentine.” Then he heard Matt Damon sing it in “The Talented Mr. Ripley.”

“See there,” I said. “Truly being cool is about knowing what to like before Matt Damon gives you permission to like it.”

I like my honest, unremittingly neutral colors.

Washington Post

Garlic harvest

It looks a fright, but there are couple of pounds or more of good garlic in there.

I had been waiting for a cool morning to harvest the garlic. It was a chore. It would be nice if one could just pull it up by the stalk, but the stalks were too dry and weak for that, and the roots too strong. So each bulb had to be excavated with a garden tool.

I planted the garlic in, I believe, late October. I pulled it in mid-July, so that’s almost nine months to grow. I was tempted to wash it and make it look like the Sonoma County fair, but I didn’t think getting it wet would help preserve it.

There will be something very garlicky for supper tonight, using the bulbs that fell apart while I was pulling them.

How the garlic looked in early May

Chapati bread

The dough, kneaded and resting

Those of you who’ve been reading my scribblings here know that two tenets of my theory of cooking and health are that we should all eat like diabetics, even if we’re not; and that the elimination of simple carbs is the key to maintaining body weight.

The problem is, bread is probably my favorite food, and hot homemade bread is something I’d rather not imagine living without. So I’m always thinking about breads that are as easy as possible on the carbs and as low as possible on the glycemic index. That’s a short list of breads. But one such bread is whole-wheat chapati bread. It’s a dense, unraised flatbread. Google for recipes. I make it with King Arthur whole-wheat flour, water, and a bit of coconut oil. That’s right, not even any salt. For years I have noticed that unsalted bread can be much more interesting than bread with salt in it, with an eerily old-fashioned taste. I have no idea why. Anyway, like all wheat breads, the dough must be kneaded. Cook it well-floured on a dry griddle or pan.

Chapati bread goes exceptionally well with the curries of fresh summer vegetables that are my default supper this time of year.

Rolled and ready for griddling

Cook them hot so they blister and brown, but don’t let them smoke.

Chapati bread, curry of squash and peppers, and zingy peanut sauce