Molto Largo

Because I'm so easily distractable, I also stopped by the Andante stand to see what they had out. Many of the cheeses were ripe looking, the Nocturnes especially, but I was wary. We've been burned by the Nocturnes before and I've bought too many ammoniated ones. I mentioned this to he very nice guy manning the table and he looked at me with what seemed like genuine surprise.

"Really??"

"Really."

I asked if maybe we could peel back the plastic wrap a tad so I could smell the cheese before I bought it, but he demurred, which I have to say, truthfully, put me off a little. Nevertheless there I am holding out some cash and walking away with a cheese. Ever the optimist.

I took this little quarter, which he said was, "basically Camembert."

Now we've had Camembert, by Jove, we've had Camembert that was produced in a tiny village in Normandy from the milk of absurdly smug cows. We've had Camembert that we wanted to dive into and swim in for a few days.

And I love Andante. I think Soyoung Scanlan's cheeses are faboo and I love the fact that she's making them right here practically on our front doorstep, but, honey... that ain't Camembert. It's not anything like it.

It's fine-- the cheese is good. Not runny, mind you, but good, although there's a bitter edge to the finish on the rind and the center seemed to be unfortunately underripe. It's not like I'm not going to eat it, of course. Obviously.

Still, we've had a few so-called American Camemberts. Some of them make nice cheeses, and use the same processes that give rise to traditional Camembert. Marketing, branding, you want people to recognize it. I get it. Nevertheless, folks, please, for the love of Mike -- can we call it something else?? It's just not Camembert and it's breaking my heart.

Flying like a Red Hawk: Cheese Pairing distractions

Continuing on our cheese pairing adventures, I have to, again, give props to Jack and Joanne over at Fork and Bottle, who proposed a blog-athon highlighting great cheese pairings. What a great idea! As my Omnivore says, "This is just way too much fun."

Totally true that, although I have to admit that already I'm feeling some obscure jealousy reading Casa Festiva's account of how she got to visit Rinconada Dairy and help make some of that amazingly good Pozo Tomme...

But we have our own work to do. I shut down the computer for a moment and consider our plan of action. After some hits and misses with the Matos Family St. George, we were eager to move on to our next target cheese, our favorite of favorites, The Red Hawk from Cowgirl Creamery.

Luscious and briny, this washed-rind, triple creme cow's milk cheese always seems to me to be full of the sea air and the hillsides of the Northern California Coast. At its best, a ripe, unctuous Red Hawk smoothing over your tongue is the epitome of the sensual cheese experience.

The Cowgirls recently brought a round of it up to our Tuscan dinner in Petaluma, so although we had had some pairings before, we wanted to re-investigate one or two of them in a more scientific way, (that is, with clean palates and before we'd drunk too many bottles of wine).

So on Saturday morning, I toddled down to the Ferry Plaza markets with at least a few ideas in mind.

I can never get up early enough to do the Farmer's Market thing. I'm just lazy that way. So I tend to go around 1 pm, just as everyone is thinking about packing up their stands. By that time, the frenzied crowds have usually thinned.

But even if the choicest fava beans have already been picked through and sold, there's still a lot to enjoy. I'm on a mission, but that doesn't mean I can't stop at Eatwell and sniff the lavender, or pop by the della Fattoria and get a pullman of dense, comforting Integrale. Then there's the Andante Dairy stand... but more on that in a later post.

There's also fruit all over the place, now that we're in summer season. The peaches look great, but I scooped up a few apricots and nectarines since they looked so incredibly juicy and smelled fantastic. (I should never be allowed to shop when I'm hungry.)

Inside the building, the crowds are still going strong, and I fight my way over to Cowgirl Creamery, which is mobbed as usual. As I wave a greeting at one of the Cowgirls, she waves back and I see that in her hand is a Sir Francis Drake. "There are only four left!" she shouts over the din.

SCREECHING halt, as I go diving into the case after a round of Drake. We've had this serendipitous cheese before and it's an addictive little morsel. Batches of it only appear in the cheese case after the bacteria haven't quite worked out, which is not to say that it doesn't work out for us. Washed in a fortified wine and topped with a clutch of currants, it's one of their most enticing cheeses, and worth snatching up when you see it.

"Must focus...must focus... I'm here for Red Hawk," I mutter to myself, thinking I must have Food-Related Attention Deficit Disorder.

I catch up with the Cowgirls and explain my mission-- the need for Red Hawk...

"Oh, get her a good one!" exclaims our Ranger. "Good" here taken to mean "squooshy, gooshy ripe." Oh yeah.

They suggest putting it with some of della Fattoria's Currant-Walnut bread, but I shake my head. There wasn't any left out there. We scan the shop and her eyes light upon another option.

"Well how about this, " she says, hoisting up a package of Fruit Nut Bread from Anjou Bakery.

I consider. At $10.75 a package...dang, those are some expensive crackers, but they're also gorgeous. And we have to make sacrifices for art. I sigh. But now, I have really got to get something to eat, or I'm just going to buy up the whole place. I take my treasure trove to the counter and then haul home with a bag full of goodies.

I lay out for inspection the cheese accompaniments, which include (from the right, clockwise) nut and fig bread, Snow Queen nectarines, fig conserve, Tilton apricots, mashed Medjool dates and some homemade hazelnut brittle.

All items have been sniffed and approved.

"You may proceed."

The pairing experiment is really about the Red Hawk, but since we had the Drake, we figured, hey, why not? Go ahead, cut a chunk and let's give it a go too. But primarily, this is about the Red Hawk.

• Tilton Apricots and Gewurtztraminer (from Sutter Home) - Good Pairing. Sutter Home isn't a winery we often think of, partly because it's such a large producer and so readily available everywhere. But a friend brought us this wine and I have to say, for its price range, it's a nice summer picnic wine. The apricots, which are juicy sweet right now, and the Gewurtz brought out a very pretty floral aspect to the Red Hawk, making for what I thought of as a very delicate pairing. I liked it because Red Hawk isn't what I would call a subtle cheese, and I enjoyed the way the fruit and wine refined it. (Interestingly, the apricots did not play well with the Drake, making the cheese taste buttery, but almost like popcorn.)
  

• Snow Queen Nectarines - Not so good. I had high hopes for this one, because the rosy aroma of the Snow Queens was just fabulous, but taken with the cheese, they just became bitter and strange tasting. And forget about the wine.
  

• Fig Conserve from the legendary June Taylor and Fruit Nut Bread from Anjou Bakery - Great Pairing. We had the conserve at the Tuscan dinner, and it was just as good as I remembered. Lending a slightly smoky, almost tobacco aroma to the party, the conserve brought out a full-bodied savory earthiness to the Red Hawk, while the fruit nut bread offered a wonderful crunchy texture with little sparkling bursts of salt that stood in sharp contrast to the silky pate. (The Drake, eaten with the fruit and nut bread brought out much more of the currant flavor -- unsurprising, since the cheese is aged with currants. It was fine as a pairing with the fig conserve, but there was a slightly acid sourness that lingered.)
  

• Hazelnut Brittle and mashed Medjool Dates - Great Pairing. By far, however, the most successful matchup was this decadent, almost dessert-like combination. Inspired by Thomas Keller's Epoisses "Creme Brulee" cheese course-- which layers pureed Medjool dates with briny, washed rind Epoisses and tops it with a hazelnut tuile-- we did a simplified version. Although it seems impossible, the combination makes the Red Hawk seem even more unctuous than ever. The sweetness of the dates tames the saltiness of the brine on the cheese ever so slightly, even as the brininess of the cheese plays well with the hazelnut brittle, which offers a fantastic textural crunch. We just wanted to swim in this one. (With the Drake, the dates did not work at all, making the cheese seem far too salty. Fascinatingly, the hazelnut brittle and the Drake seemed to dredge up a long-lost childhood memory of a flavor we couldn't quite place... until my Omnivore said triumphantly, "Captain Crunch!")
  

All in all though, we felt a sigh of satisfaction at the end. Much cheese was consumed, many flavors were investigated, much cheese was consumed, interesting beverages were quaffed, and oh...um...much cheese was consumed. Yum.

Hazelnut Brittle
1/3 cup water
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups hazelnuts (about 5 1/2 ounces), toasted, husked, coarsely chopped

Line a rimmed baking sheet with a Silpat or foil. Mix 1/3 cup water and the cream of tartar in a small saucepan. Add the sugar and stir over low heat until sugar dissolves. Increase the heat and boil without stirring until golden, occasionally brushing down sides of pan with wet pastry brush and swirling pan, about 11 minutes. Add the hazelnuts and swirl to combine. Pour the mixture out onto the baking sheet, spreading with metal spatula and allow to cool.

St George, with Beer Bread, by George

So, the fine folks over at Fork and Bottle have organized an blog-athon of cheese-pairing -- only my favorite topic of all time. Needless to say, my Omnivore and I are feeling quite thrilled to jump into the fray with some experimental pairings for the Matos Family's St. George, a Portuguese style farmstead cheese.

We've eaten this cheese --pounds and pounds of it by now-- on various occasions. Usually we keep a wedge around the house because it melts beautifully, is delicious for sandwiches, also great just for straight snacking when you're in need of a little boost, but is refined enough to add to a pretty cheese platter too. It's semi-hard, and has some Cheddar-y elements, though it's not as dry as traditional Cheddars. The Matos Family, who named the cheese after the island of Sao Jorge in the Azores where they grew up, have been making this cow's milk cheese since 1979.

We picked up this chunk at the Cowgirl Creamery shop at the Ferry Building. I was on a different cheese-buying mission, but as usual, got distracted...

So, given the Cheddar flavor elements of the cheese, I thought we'd try out some ales. I'm not a beer-drinker, mind you. Generally, when presented with a beer, I scrunch up my nose and squint my eyes and pour it down my throat trying not to let it actually touch my tongue.

However, I like to think I'm open-minded, and you just never know. A local ale might be made much tastier when paired with cheese.

To be sure that beer got a fair shake, however, I summoned my Omnivore.

"Ale at 9:30 in the morning?" quoth he, holding his face very straight. "Uh-huh. You know I'm not twenty anymore..."

"Just a sip," I said in a wheedling voice. "Good. Now try this."

• Old Stock Ale (From North Coast Brewing Co., Fort Bragg) - Not so good. I thought the caramel and nutty aromas of the Old Stock might bring something new to the St. George, but in the end it overwhelmed the cheese. While this is a fascinating beer with a fantastic color and flavor, it needs a stronger stinkier cheese that will fight back.

• Anchor Steam (A San Francisco Treat)- Neutral. Anchor Steam is one of those "plays well with others" choices and here it worked fine, but didn't really enhance anything flavorwise.

So a strikeout on beers, but as my Omnivore pointed out, St. George may be reminiscent of Cheddar, but it's not a Cheddar.

Well, given that, some of the other accompaniments that I had thunk up were looking unlikely.

We often have a bit of mustard on the plate when we dress up a charcuterie platter, and so it seemed like a natural addition to have some Dijon. Maille is what we have around the fridge, and there's some leftovers from the booty I brought back for my Omnivore from Paris.

• Au Cassis de Dijon - Not so good. I love this mustard, which has an infusion of cassis, but isn't too sweet. Unfortunately the cassis interfered with the tanginess of the cheese.

• Straight Dijon - Neutral to Good pairing. We were a little split on this one. I liked how the spiciness of the Dijon sharpens the flavor of the cheese, but my Omnivore didn't think it brought much to the party.
  

• Caramelized Onions - Neutral. I wanted to try some things we don't usually put with cheeses, and this was a shot in the dark. I thought maybe the sweetness of the caramel plus a slightly darker element might change the cheese a bit, but in fact, the sweetness obscured the flavor a little. It didn't clash, but it wasn't great either. Still, in a different situation, I could see making a French Onion Soup with deeply caramelized onions and mix of shredded St George plus a sharper cheese on top -- nice and crusty.
  

• Toasted Pecans - Great Pairing. Yes, it's that old standby, toasted pecans, but they're a common addition to cheese plates because, you know what? They really work.
  

I'm bummed, however, that the beer thing didn't work out, and wondering what else we have in the house to drink with the cheese.

I start rooting through the liquor cabinet. My Omnivore and I are such big drinkers. Our cabinet is filled with bottles of rum, vodka, Cuarenta y Tres, Sherry, Port, Madeira -- each missing say, exactly half a cup, or 1/3 of a cup of its contents. Each bottle might stay that way for months or at least until the next recipe that calls for 1/2 a cup of Madeira.

I extract the tawny port and some fino sherry. Why not? It's all an experiment.

• Fino Sherry - Bad pairing. "Wicked nasty" was how my Omnivore described it, before swiftly downing some fizzy water and scraping his tongue with his teeth to try to get the taste off of it. Bizarre metallic flavor that just kept on going. Do not try this at home.

• Dow's Tawny Port - Great Pairing. Again, guess what? Tradition works. Port goes with cheese. Port=Portuguese perhaps? Regardless, the Port fine-tuned the flavors, and brought the St. George into sharper focus. A bite of St. George with a pecan and a sip of port? Delish.

------------
Even so, now I'm feeling a little disappointed. I was looking for something a bit more fun and I'm not quite ready to give up on the beer yet. I have one more trick up my sleeve:

Beer bread

3 cups self-rising flour
-OR-
3 cups all purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt

Add and mix:
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 (12-ounce) bottle of beer (I used the Anchor Steam)

Pour over top:
1/4 cup melted butter

Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Lightly grease or spray a 9 x 5 x 3-inch loaf pan

Combine all ingredients, mixing well. Pour into prepared loaf pan. Pour melted butter over the top and bake for 50 minutes.

Every so often I am guilty of not reading the recipe carefully enough. The last time I made this bread it had been a while since I'd baked it and I accidentally mixed the butter into the batter. It didn't make the bread taste bad (how could it?) but if you pour the butter over the top after the batter is in the pan, you'll get a wonderful crispy, crunchy crust that tastes great.

-------------------

Now this is what I was looking for. The heartiness of this bread really brings out the flavor of the cheese. And the crispy crunch crust offers a nice contrast of textures with the pliability of the cheese. Top it with the toasted pecans and it's terrific and makes a yummy meal in itself.

Next up? Red Hawk pairings. Stay tuned...

The Convivio: a Tuscan-Inspired Locavore-ish Dinner

It's been a little while since we continued on our culinary tour of the seasons at the home of Ms. Five-and-a Half and her husband Mr. Thirteen. We first began the tradition back in 2004 with our "Can spring be far behind...?" French-themed dinner and then followed with our autumnal 2005 "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness..." dinner. In 2006, we invaded the Cowgirls' kitchen for the fabulous Northern Italian "If on a winter's night a traveler..."

So here we are at Summer. And for once, it was actually feeling like summer in the Bay Area. Perfect weather for our next food adventure.

When we ran into the Cowgirls down at the Ferry Building, they asked, "So are you preparing another extravaganza...?"

Sensing that some management of expectations (i.e. lowering) might be in order, I replied, "Well, a casual extravaganza..."

She laughed at me.

I suppose it's to be expected since our obsession with food and making seasonal-themed dinners has gotten way out of proportion.

A recent article in the New York Times, "Dinner at the Foodies," sketched out the culinary anxiety of the modern foodie, the frantic search for the perfect ingredient, the manufacturing of every possible aspect of the meal by hand at home, from homemade tortillas to condiments.

Ridiculous, huh? Hahahahaha... oh.

It has come to my attention that we are, perhaps, somewhat obsessive. But I ask you, is that really a bad thing?

Let me give you a scene. My Omnivore picks me up from class at approximately 1 pm (T-minus 4.5 hours to dinner). I settle into the car and then say in a startlingly loud voice, "We have to go to the Ferry Building RIGHT NOW!"

"Wha-at? What for?"

"Lemon verbena! I forgot. We have to get Lemon verbena and the only place in San Francisco that has it is Eatwell in the Farmer's Market."

Yes, I was a little strident. Yes, we had to fight our way across the city and find parking, run into the market, power our way to the Eatwell stand and wave madly at them before they packed up the basket of precious herbs. And no, no one would have died, balked, or even cringed if we hadn't obtained the verbena and made the dish as planned.

But then weigh that against this: We took the most gorgeously sweet and fresh smelling stuff home and made a Lemon Verbena sorbet that was heavenly. Served as a palate cleanser the scent of lemon came breezing across the table and as everyone got a whiff, there was this fantastic look of transported joy, as if memories were floating down over each person's eyes as they took a bite.

I like that.

So, I put it to you that perhaps being "perfect ingredient" obsessed is not such a laughable thing. I mean, if you can make your friends even that much happier by going the extra mile, wouldn't you do it?

Lemon Verbena Sorbet
Adapted from The Herbfarm Cookbook, by Jerry Traunfeld

Makes 1 quart, 8 servings
• 1 cup (gently packed) fresh lemon verbena leaves
• 1 cup superfine sugar
• 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 3 cups cold water

Grind the lemon verbena leaves and sugar together in a food processor until the mixture turns into a bright green paste, about 30 seconds; stop to scrape down the sides as necessary. Add the lemon juice and process for 15 seconds longer, then add the water.

Strain the resulting liquid through a fine sieve to remove any bits of leaf. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s directions.

* * *

On the guest list, the Cowgirls from the Creamery, of course, joined by Madame Baker and her Mr. Firestarter, as well as our friends and fellow gourmands La Divina and Il Divino. And as with the best dinners, the food was good, but the company was even better.

Our thought for this meal was to build the dinner around Tuscan dishes, but to highlight the fabulous local foods and producers we have around the Bay Area.

It wasn't a strict locavore affair -- we slipped in a few things that travelled around the world to get to us, like the miele di castagno or Tuscan chestnut honey, for which I couldn't find a local substitute. We splurged on some farro as well, an Etruscan grain that's not easy to get here, but deliciously nutty. There was also Campari, Prosecco with slices of Frog Hollow Gold Dust peaches, and Vernaccia di San Gimignano, although we drank a local "super Tuscan" from Unti called Segromigno.

In the sweet shadow of the lovely leaves
June 16, 2007

Antipasto
Fra’Mani Affettati Misti with Soppressata, Mortadella & Salametto
Della Fattoria Polenta Bread, courtesy of Mistress Baker and Mr. Firestarter
Chicken Liver pate & Tuscan Table Olives from McEvoy Ranch

Pasta
Swiss Chard & Fava Ravioli with Vegetable Brodo & Chestnut Honey

Intermezzo
Sorbet of Lemon Verbena from Eatwell Farm

Secondo e contorni
Pollo alla Diavolo made with chickens from Fulton Valley Farms
Farro with Arugula, Peas & Sweet 100 Tomatoes
Grilled Vegetables
Della Fattoria Rosemary & Meyer Lemon Bread
with olive oil from McEvoy Ranch and Stonehouse Olive Oil.

Dolce
Buttermilk Panna Cotta & Strawberries

Cheeses
Red Hawk from Cowgirl Creamery
Pepato sheep's milk cheese
Fourme d'Ambert
with toasted hazelnuts, candied walnuts and fresh figs
Fig conserve from June Taylor
served with a fantastic Currant Walnut bread, again, courtesy of Mistress Baker and Mr. Firestarter.

Expert cheese preparation at the hands of the Cowgirls.






The Chard and Fava Ravioli turned out to be the most complicated dish of the whole evening.

Pasta always presents a severe challenge for us, because there is literally no surface in the apartment to which we can securely clamp a pasta machine. Except the wooden folding tray.

At that point, making ravioli become a two person, four-handed proposition, with the dialogue running something like this:

"Hold it, no hold it steady... [CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNK] Wait, you're rolling too fast -- more flour, more flour... no slower... Wait, move the cutter... Will you push the cat off the table, please? Well I can't, I have flour on my hands... Okay, now, step it down. [CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNK] No wait--it's shredding... hold on. Yeah -- NO, NO, NO!"

That they get made at all is really a feat of mammoth proportions. That we had 55 of them in the end was astonishing. Ah, the miracle of ravioli.

Ravioli de Bietola e Fave
con Trucioli di Pecorino al miele di Castagna
From Il Falconiere Relais e Ristorante, Cortona

Serves 6 as a first-course

• 2 Tbsp plus ½ cup extra virgin olive oil
• ½ bunch Swiss chard, ribs removed, leaves chopped (about 2 ½ cups)
• 2 garlic cloves chopped
• 8 oz shelled fresh fava beans
• 1 large egg yolk
• ½ cup ricotta cheese
• ½ cup plus ¾ cup grated pecorino Romano Cheese (4 oz)
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 1/8 tsp ground black pepper
• 1/8 tsp ground nutmeg
• 2 lbs Pasta Dough
1 large egg white, beaten to blend
• 1 cup vegetable broth
• Chestnut honey

Heat 2 Tbsp oil in a large heavy skillet over medium heat. Add Chard and garlic. Saute until moisture evaporates, about 5 minute. Season with salt and pepper.

Cook fava beans in a heavy medium saucepan of boiling salted water until tender, about 10 minutes. Drain and transfer to a food processor.

Add egg yolk and process until well blended. Add ricotta and ½ cup pecorino cheese, salt, pepper, nutmeg and blend well. Add chard mixture and using on off turns, blend until just combined.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out pasta dough in ½ lb. batches, to 1/8 inch thick. Brush the edges with egg white. Place on heaping teaspoon of chard filling at 2 inch intervals along the dough about ½ inch from the bottom edge. Brush more egg white between each round of filling and along the middle of the dough strip. Fold the top half of the dough strip over the bottom half and press along edges and between each round of filling to seal. Using a ravioli or a biscuit cutter, stamp out raviolis. Place them on a baking sheet covered with a damp cloth and chill until ready to use.

In a blender, puree the vegetable stock and ½ cup oil, ¾ cup pecorino cheese until smooth. Transfer to a small saucepan and whisk over a medium heat until heated through.

Working in batches, cook the ravioli in a large pot of boiling salted water until tender, but still firm to the bite (about three minutes) Drain well, return ravioli to the pot, add the sauce and toss to coat. Divide evenly among plates, Drizzle with chestnut honey and serve.

I know, you're wondering if we made the ricotta ourselves. and yes, yes, we did...

===================

Discuss amongst yourselves-- topics for the evening:

• Martha Stewart visits Della Fattoria
• Slow Food USA - Slow Food San Francisco
• Manka's Inverness Lodge
• Drake's Bay Family Farms is forced to fight the Park service to stay open. (For more...)
• video of Jared Diamond speaking on the Collapse of civilizations

Top Chef: Quickfire Challenge

Ahh, Top Chef is back. Am I glued to the marathons? To the inane little Season 1 versus Season 2 special? Of course. What is it that brings me back? Is it the delectable sniping? The head-scratching moments of what-the-hell-is-a-lobster-foam? Padma Lakshmi's fabulous Breck Girl hair? No. In a word, Schadenfreude. Look it up.

I love watching these quixotic challenges. "Today, you will cook two perfect eggs... with one hand tied behind your back!"

As we watched tonight while cooking some nice steaks and frying up some potatoes in duck fat and truffle salt, we happened accidentally on a new challenge.

"For today's Quickfire Challenge you will cook two juicy succulent rib eye steaks to a perfect medium-rare, accompanied by Yukon Gold potato coins fried in duck fat -- but...! There's a catch. Somewhere along the line, your equipment will fail, and you will not know when."

Yes, at some point after the steaks went in the oven, the Four Square Kitchen's oh-so-fabulous Roper oven broke down, and the broiler completely shut off. When did that occur? Dunno.

What're you gonna do? Uh, change of plan -- Pan-fried steaks, with Fourme d'Ambert on top...

Bring it on, Top Chefs... I say unto you, "Allez cuisine!"

Snacks for hungry dancers

As wiry as dancers might look, they can be a hungry bunch. This past weekend, the company I work with, Chamberdance, performed at the Cowell Theater. Theater week is a terribly stressful time and the company spends about six hours a night in the theater in the run up to the show--nine on the day of the show.

Funnily enough, that same weekend was the Slow Food Golden Glass wine tasting event in the Herbst Pavilion on the same pier as the theater. I walked down the outside corridor bearing trays of my own food but glancing sideways at the tables. Personally, I think the dancers were getting some pretty good stuff, if I do say so myself...

So what do you feed twenty hungry dancers?

It has to be easy to eat in bites and nibbles (in the short breaks between stints of lighting), not too greasy or sticky (dirty hands on clean costumes? NIGHTmare...), and provide some calories and energy to take them through a long night.

I usually make variations on tea sandwiches, this time it was smoked turkey with provolone, arugula and pesto mayonnaise for the white meat eaters, and also roast beef with Havarti and dijon mustard on dark rye for the red meat types.

For some longer lasting energy I like to make a pasta salad. This recipe, adapted from Cuisine, is a little tangy, but really flavorful and easy to eat in small bowls.

Tomato, Fennel and Red Onion Salad

2 pints grape or cherry tomatoes cut in half
2 Tbsp olive oil
Salt to taste

2 fennel bulbs sliced
1 red onion cut into wedges
2 Tbsp olive oil

1/4 cup coarsely chopped parsley
1 Tbsp lemon zest
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp toasted crushed fennel seeds

1/3 cup white wine vinegar
1 Tbsp sugar
3/4 tsp salt

1 lb spiral pasta, cooked al dente and tossed in a litle olive oil

3 cups cleaned arugula

Preheat the oven to 250F and toss the tomatoes in olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and roast for 1-2 hours, until they are shriveled and the flavor has intensified.

In a large skillet, heat 2 Tbsp of olive oil. Roast the fennel and red onion in the skillet, placing only as many slices as will comfortably fit in the skillet at one time. Don't crowd the pan. Don't move them around, but let them caramelize by cooking for about 10 minutes per side. Repeat in batches till all of them are done.

In a food processor, pulse and mince the parsley, lemon zest, and salt. Set aside.

Combine the white wine vinegar, sugar, sat and fennel seeds for a vinaigrette, and set aside.

When you're ready to serve, in a large bowl, combine all the ingredients: pasta, vegetables, tomatoes, parsley and lemon and vinaigrette. Toss it with your hands as fingers are gentler than tongs.
--------------------------------------------

I also make about a gallon of raspberry lemonade. It's an embarrassingly easy and terribly declasse recipe that I forget where I found, but it is deliciously refreshing:

Raspberry Lemonade

2 12 oz cans frozen lemonade
1 12 oz bag frozen raspberries
3 liters seltzer water
mint sprigs

Combine all ingredients in large vat. Blend with an immersion blender until pureed. Strain into pitcher/s to remove seeds & pulp. Chill and serve with sprigs of mint.

Living Largo

Here's what I like to see in a cheese.

Oooze.

With three "o's" for ooohh...

Last Saturday I went down to the Ferry Plaza Market on a strike mission to pick up cheese for a reception. I was actually headed to Cowgirl Creamery to get a bit of Tarentais and some basic Brie de Meaux, but how could one not stop by the Andante stand? Soyoung Scanlan was just shutting things down, but still had several cheeses out.

"I'd love to have something nice and runny..." I said.

She considered this for a moment and then peered into a couple of already bagged up cheeses and said, "This one -- triple cream cow's milk..."

Sold! To the woman with the cheese obsession. I was in such a hurry that I didn't even stop to ask her the name of the cheese, but this is Andante Dairy's Largo, I believe.

Affetati Misti and St. Maure

In one of my nightmares, I am looking at a menu and I can't read it at all. All the words keep shifting around on the page and I'm horribly frustrated because until I can read the menu, I won't be allowed to order anything.

"It's very important that we start to learn all the names for the food," I said recently, in reference to an upcoming trip to Italy. "Extensive food research is necessary..."

I'm not planning on staring hopelessly at an empty plate just because I can't figure out what nepitella or carciofi con salsa d'acciughe is...

We recently bought a charming little guide called A Taste of Tuscany (one of those Eyewitness Travel guides that I like so much because I love the pictures) to help us cram.

"Cinta Senese pigs," I read from the book, "are a very old local breed with a long history in the area's art as well as its cuisine. Hmmm... mmmm... The pigs graze freely on tubers, roots, truffles and acorns... hmmmm... mmmm..."

A plate of lovely assorted salumi and cured meat is called "affettati misti"-- I'll be looking for that on the menu.

Meantime, here is our local version of the affettati misti with Fra'Mani Soppressata, some nice slices of Salame Gentile and a little bit of the Toscano in the back. Cheeses are Parmagiano Reggiano and St. George from the Matos Family.

We read that the young Vernaccia di San Gimignano is ideal with cured meats and lo! it's true...


For dessert, a St. Maure from the Pasta Shop in Oakland. It's still not the sinfully good St. Maure that oozed its way into our hearts at L'Ardoise in Paris.

"Oh, well, it's not going to be THAT," said the woman at the cheese counter who carved us a sample. "But it's not bad."

I poked at it experimentally with a fingertip, and sighed. Pasteurized probably. It had some give, but it wasn't ever going to be waterbed runny... Still, she was right, it wasn't bad. and the brainy wrinkled rind was quite delicious and not a hint of ammonia.

I grant you, it's all very tasty, but the kitties demand their young raw milk cheeses or they will become very cross...

Don't make a kitty cross...