Attention: I love vegetarians.

Roast Crown pumpkin stuffed with spinach, Fontina, and a poached farm egg.

For ages now, the vegetarian entrée has been a category of project with which I have a special relationship.  Back in my restaurant days, I found myself often the recipient of that challenge-- and there was often a palpable sense of relief on the part of my colleagues, as if they'd escaped it in delegating it to me.  I am a seasonal produce fanatic... I've often said that I think that seasonal produce just may be the seat of my inspiration as a cook.  I can't explain in, but a perfect little head of cabbage can make me batty, and the thought that this New Zealand jaunt means I'll miss out completely on such natural magic as FRESH FAVA BEANS, well... it's almost enough to make me regret coming.  (Almost.)  I honestly will spend whatever sum I bring in my pocket to the farmer's market.  Self control?  None.  Then I will run a relay all week long to use up my spoils before they, well... spoil.  It's like drugs, but, um, not.

Cazuela of lentil and kumara stew (with red wine, rosemary, and cream.  Mmmm...)
with shirred egg and flakey cheese pastry straws. 

Two back-to-back winters = so many root vegetables!  So much winter squash!  Those marvelous cabbages, beets, pears.  I love winter crops too... but knowing that back home the first of the tender greenies are making their way out makes me pout, just a little.

Stuffed cabbage with leek and mushroom risotto, picked up in sage-butter
and finished with a slab of Taleggio cheese.

Living in the bay area might make me extra sensitive about vegetarians... the fact that numerous, beloved members of my family are vegetarians probably also has something to do with how warm and fuzzy I can get about creating something spectacular out of ingredients that are not braggarts, like RIBEYE or LOBSTER, or DUCK or something.  The little vegetables, the humble lentil... I feel that the sensitivity required to transform these quiet morsels into something special calls to me with a unique resonance.  Not that lobster isn't amazing, or isn't as much a gift from and opportunity to connect with the earth as the fresh shelling bean. But the way asparagus is one thing at the beginning of its season, and a week later has evolved from a scrawny yet juicy, tender and sensitive something into a sturdy teenager of its former self, requesting a peeling and a careful, impeccably-timed cooking... this daily shifting connects me to something magical in the earth.  It shuts me up and asks me to listen, it banishes preconceived ideas about a vegetable or a fruit and forces me to start only with what's there, only with what IS, to humble myself in the interest of (the best part--) seeing what happens if I stop thinking I know.  

Bitty tomato-custard tarts wth basil oil, a single, darling pine nut, and Parmesan cheese.

Oh, and it turns out, it's not just entrées!  Here is some more vegetarian fun.  Here's to the vegetable!

Påte brisée bites stuffed with spinach,
mushrooms and Parmesan

Whole wheat bread-box (what else to call it?) Brushed
with butter, toasted, then filled with steaming tomato soup and topped with cheddar cheese.  A lil' minute in a hot oven?  Tastes like your mother loves you.

Broccoli soup with farm egg yolk, Parmesan and black pepper
This one's for my brother, Anders!

Life gives you lemons...

       Actually, sometimes life gives you lemons, quince, three types of lettuce, two types of apples, a literally endless supply of amazing watercress, and small amounts of the last cherry tomatoes.  All for free.  AND all plucked by myself and master-green-thumb Ron from his cousin's gorgeous garden.  The only way this could have been better is if it had happened BEFORE I placed my produce orders for the week...

               

                           
      SO-  to work, to work!  I made lemon curd, quince jelly, and in unrelated news, giant batches of granola and peanut butter to put in darling little jars with darling, silky ribbons, and sell from the front-desk.  It was SO FUN!
       Then, when we found ourselves with no guests for the weekend, we had a little dinner party for the staff featuring the beautiful, crisp Romaine lettuce in one of my all-time favorite salads:  add toasted walnuts, a creamy and intensely savory vinaigrette made with mortared garlic, anchovy, and lemon and dust liberally with Parmesan cheese, and THAT, my friends, is the salad that made Caesar blush.  (Okay, maybe a salad can't blush... but you get the idea.)
      

More from New Zealand

Ahhh, but they amuse...
       I'm having WAYYY too much fun with this.

Cured salmon and summer squash with mignonette and lemon agrumato.

Roast zucchini  stuffed with fresh walnuts, breadcrumbs, lemon and Parmesan.

Flakey pastry with leeks fondue, smoked moki and chives.

Button mushrooms braised in duck fat, then stuffed with leeks and spinach.

And in more substantial news,

Crayfish special-- Kaikoura, the closest town to the lodge, means "eat crayfish".  When in Rome...

Marlborough Salmon with risotto fritto and zucchini crema.

AND, I though I'd couple the sweet with the social.  Makes sense to me!

SO MUCH FUN with a single batch of brioche dough... 

Rolled into buns with toasted almond custard and brandy-plumped currants.

And chocolate.  And scones.  And the banana bread you can't see.  And, and, and...

       The day before yesterday, we closed the lodge for the day to move from the main kitchen and dining room into the much smaller lodge kitchen and dining room.  We, the staff, took the opportunity to team build and spend some time together just enjoying ourselves.  We worked hard all day schlepping and cleaning and organizing (and decorating!!), and the end result was just so beautiful.  The lodge kitchen feels like cooking in a lovely country home.  And while I do admittedly miss the pro burners (how long could it possibly take to bring up a blanching pot?  Some prep I still elect to do in the big kitchen), I love the cozy, pretty space.  Then we disbanded to pretty up, and got back together for a beautiful dinner party in the lodge.  

The community table in the lodge.

Isn't it beautiful?!

Well-deserved relaxation, and lots of delicious food and wine.  I was so busy enjoying the food, I didn't photograph it!

Rhythm, rhythm, rhythm...

Classic chocolate mousse.
Dedicated from afar to my friend, DB.

When the rhythm is absent, life clunks along with no grace.  It's a gravel road, a long length of turbulence, an ocean liner thrown heedlessly about by the waves.  I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one out there who, in such periods, momentarily, petulantly assumes that THE REST OF MY LIFE WILL BE LIKE THIS!  It's terrible, untenable, violent...  Sure as anything, though, couple of deep breaths and the passing of a little time bring forth the things inside you that were hiding from the quake- the poise, the cheer, the balance that the outside world can't really chase away, not at its core.  The joy, my favorite.  After a couple of rhythmless weeks, I find myself better grounded in those things than before I came, and grateful for the challenge that pointed them out to me so clearly.

Chicken liver crostone with marinated capsicums and arugula.

Salad of chilled mussels with shaved fennel, haricots verts, saffron and Pernod.

I am learning about some fabulous New Zealand products-- the dairy, the farmed salmon (don't hate me, don't hate me, don't hate me), THE MUSSELS and oysters and clams and Nelson scallops.  I already mentioned the eggs, but they bear another reference.  We have a relationship with a marvelous farmer named Rosemary, who supplies us with beautiful arugula, fennel, red onions and mixed lettuces.  The guys, AJ and Mark, in the butcher shop are two of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure of doing business with.  I know where stuff comes from now, I know that I'm equipped to make the decisions, orders and last-minute calls required of me.  And at the end of all of those logistics?  Inspired, inspiring cooking.  Cooking that I love as much as I love anything on earth.  My work.

Roast salmon with fennel, fried potatoes and Umbrian-style salsa verde.

Demitasse goes abroad...

This is what I see every morning from the kitchen window of my farmhouse.  Birds are chirping, deer
are meandering through one's peripheral vision.  I'm not even joking.

       I've been an errant blogger for a few weeks now... but I return with a bang!  A wacky opportunity fell into my lap, and I was in a position to jump on it.  The end result?  I shook on a temporary work contract that gave me SEVEN DAYS to domytaxesappearintrafficcourt(speedingticket,grrr)hound

myneighbortoreimbursemeforhavingTOWEDMYCARfrommyownparkingspotvisitmyfamilygetfourmonths'birthcontrol(goodluckwithcobrainsurance)seemydoctorapplyforavisapackmybags and move to New Zealand to be the temporary chef for a luxury, 12-room treehouse lodge on the south island.  No kidding.  I mean, who can do that?  Turns out, in clean-slate-2011, I can.  

       The first two weeks have been brutal, actually... I've worked 12-15 hours a day since the day I arrived, minus today, when I slept in and rolled into work at noon.  I've been spread pretty thin, learning a new system, dealing with a new staff, new vendors, new, sometimes wonky equipment, new vegetables (literally, I met a squash the likes of which I never even considered might exist before...), and a very demanding production schedule.  We produce all of our own: breads, danish, croissants, crackers, cookies, pickles, cured seafood products... all of this in addition to the nightly three-course menu that is my creative focus.  This is all awesome, but did I mention that in one week, I'll be one of two kitchen employees here (at the moment, I'm one of three)?  Not that I'm complaining (okay, two days ago I was complaining...), I'm increasingly bolstered and goaded and kindled by the challenge.  Let's all hope that spirit continues to rally. 

   

        New Zealand is, hands down, one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  I have scores of photos of the scenery... which I'll not bore you with.  We have a productive greenhouse and garden here, every herb you could imagine, and as previously mentioned, HERDS AND HERDS of deer in paddocks.  I'm encouraged by the owner, Tony, to seriously consider running venison as the red meat... and I'm pretty sure that before my tenure is up, I will.  The cast of characters here is pretty unbelievable-  Ron, the groundskeeper, is an inspiring and deeply knowledgable green-thumb, and I guarantee he'd shoot and skin me a couple of deer if I asked him too.  I'm going to come back wizened and worldly, with the blood of multitudes on my paws.  Consider yourselves forewarned. Enough of all this text.  Where's the food?  Oh, friends of mine, there's been so.much.food.  And we're off:

A menu.  Translation:  In NZ, Scotch = Ribeye.  Crayfish = Spiny Lobster.  Silverbeet = Chard.
You're telling me...

Here we do a daily amuse bouche, new to me... although with my penchant for little things, how am I not going to love that?  This is my favorite so far- a half a cooked creamer potato, hollowed out, deep fried, and filled with creamed monkfish and spinach.  There are shallots, white wine and nutmeg involved as well... it was GOOD.                                                          

Cream of celeriac and new potato soup- lemon agrumato, chives and chive blossoms.
And my shadow.  Sorry, folks, I'm a chef, not a photographer!

Ravioli of Canterbury lamb.  

Salad of marinated salmon with shaved fennel, pickled beet, cucumber and mussels, with a shallot-tarragon cream.

Hazelnut-crusted pork loin with sautéed apples and arugula.  Which they call "rocket".  Wayyy edgier.

Grilled "scotch" (refer to translation notes, above [should I start footnoting my posts?]) with braised red cabbage, creamer potatoes and mushroom-red wine butter.  The beef is really, really good!

And now for, SURPRISE!, my favorite part!  The pastry menu!  I have no formal pastry training, and not a big sweet-tooth, but I've always been deeply drawn to the sweet side, and am enjoying working on this part of the menu very much.  So much so that I'm going to do some staging in pastry kitchens when I get home!  Mmmm, doughs of any and all kinds.  I'm SO SO SO into it.

Chocolate-walnut tart with caramelized orange.  Crumbly walnut crust, chocolate gananche flood, a candied orange slice laid atop as soon as the ganache begins to set up, and a simple pile of toasted walnuts to finish.

Poached pears

                                   

                                                                 PUFF!  Ain't it though?

And, together, they come in this dessert:  Crème anglaise (it's that color JUST from the amazing eggs here... the cheapest eggs you could buy at the supermarket have yolks that are the orangest  [I know it's not a word- but I kinda like it!] thing you've ever seen.  SERIOUSLY.) Okay, focus, Kelsey.  Again:  Crème anglaise with poached pears, plumped cranberries and their ruddy syrup, and a couple of crisp diamonds of puff pastry.
And a mint leaf or two.  I mean, they're in the garden!

       There's also been:  Monkfish brandade, a rockin' poultry liver shmoo served in a quenelle atop marinated red peppers (called "capsicums" here) with garlicky toast and an arugula salad, some beautiful fish dishes, an eggplant(aubergine), zucchini(courgette), tomato and basil tian served with poached eggs and finished with pesto and parmesan, Sicilian-style (saffron, hot pepper, currants) stuffed chard(silverbeet) leaves, strawberry-rhubarb shortcakes, chocolate mousse... and probably other stuff that I've lost the ability to recall.  There's some hecka good cooking happening here, and a TON of learning- about myself as much as about anything at all, and that is always a marvelous gift.  Keep it comin', world!

Long weekend with the parents.

Cabbage and citrus slaw with avocado and pickled red onion

Sweet potato and black bean soups... swirled. 

I know we've been over this, but few things inspire my cooking like the people I love best.  I recently spent a long weekend at my parents' beautiful, peaceful home in Fresno-- a place that really is a solid contradiction to everything negative you've ever heard about that town.  I've been saying for years, "well, my Fresno is awesome!"
They have a beautiful, extremely productive garden, and often meals are made simply from what one finds on a little stroll around their raised beds.  I swear, the best broccoli I've ever worked with came out of their parking strip; and every now clichéd, reverent reference you've ever heard about the tomato still warm from the vine is rooted firmly in the image of their sunny, cheerful backyard.

Chocolate-toffee cookie

My parents are both educators, and had a four day weekend for President's Day- which inspired my trip.  We spent the days like we always do, I cook while Moma (that's what we call her- she's very artistic) reads me poetry or short stories aloud.  Ron, my step-dad is gardening or Mr.-Fix-It-ing something in the yard.  We eat, lingering over the table, drinking wine at ANY AND EVERY hour of the day.  We play in highly charged tournaments of word games, card games (Hearts, please!), and dominoes.  We sit in the living room, which has the most exquisite, amber light I know, and Ron plays the piano or we talk.  We are so comfortable surrounded by the book-lined walls and the animals who have finally tired from their incessant play and lay, collapsed, at our feet.  My Fresno is peaceful, and beautiful, and I fall backwards into the hammock of my family breathing a deep sigh of relief.  There are so many things we don't and can't know in life, but this?  This I know, and this I believe.

Spicy cauliflower pizza. I tried, unsuccessfully, to innovate on the baking-pizza-at-home-without-a-stone issue.  Still delicious!

I mean, seriously, in could be nine in the morning.

This is potentially my favorite dish of the weekend.  A bed of creamy hummus, pickled rounds of roasted beets, halves of beautiful five-minute eggs,  a garlicky mortared walnut and diced avocado relish. 

Doesn't everybody love befores and afters?
Apple-raisin tart with hazelnut-oat crumb topping.  Family food.

Baking for Bica

I was sipping a spectacular cappuccino the other morning at one of my favorite cafés, Bica Coffeehouse, in Rockridge.  I had my book, but I was only sort of reading-- I'd get a few paragraphs in and break to chat with the charming barista.  The subject of my afternoon came up, and I mentioned that I was slated to do some BAKING at home-- I had made a list of things I wanted to make, had acquired the necessaries and was happily contemplating spending a few hours covered in flour.  He asked what I was making.  I told him, and he said without missing a beat, "I'll buy that from you."  Well... 40,000 exciting ideas later...

There's a hidden smear of onion jam under all of that ham and cheese.  Yes, I did.

They were glazed and finished with black pepper before baking.  

So began a potentially very exciting relationship between this demitasse and a perfectly lovely café.  I am in once a week as a guest baker, having begun with black forest ham and antique gruyère turnovers and a walnut-streusel coffee cake.
Tomorrow I deliver pecan sticky buns and a savory focaccia smothered in a roasted sweet potato, red cabbage and Parmesan blanket, available by the slice.

Bica Coffeehouse is just across the street from the Rockridge BART, on the corner of Miles and College Avenues.  I'm working specifically on bringing something savory to the table each time I bake- and being the seasonal-produce fiend that I am, my inspiration is rooted firmly in the market.  I am looking forward to exploring such ideas as shirred egg tartlets, the egg nestled into a rich vegetable filling, the filling nestled into crisp and flaky puff pastry.  Or savory pound cake- the famous "cake salé" of the french apéro.  Or little portable cellophane bags of handmade crackers. Or, or or... I clearly cannot be stopped.