Love these, boys.

Credits: I heart food. I heart art.

And I had wonderful themes to work with.  Nelle was gracious in spilling out all sorts of yummy bits of inspiration (French flea markets, gardening, antique anything, red, New Orleans, red (yes, red was mentioned twice:) Red Sox games, Vermont, Eric Clapton, country chic, shabby chic, mother of 6 and grandmother of 2). So of course, the poppies- French AND red- became Kate’s 6 luminous children and the bees, her grandchildren. French flea markets also happen to be my favorite thing and I even have a wonderful book on them, so a luxe peruse left me filled with patterns and textures to work with. As for the lace pattern, I have a beautiful, lacy summer robe of my grandma’s that I have joyfully shared in several of my pieces by using the lace to create a stencil (and the robe is still very wearable, it just has adornments of paint now). As for adding the text, “celebrate life” seemed like the right sentiment, of course in French and with a “z” for extra spice.

My favorite reaction from Nelle (who loved it!) was the concerned reaction to the bees: “What about when she has more grandkids?” I smiled, “Then we can add more bees!”

To Kate with love: may you be blessed with many more bees…

(Riding the 41, east on Union St at Larkin)….mmmmmmm

Nature is the art of God. -Dante

This week I came across some images I created for the National Poetry Month Free Verse photo contest last year, via a call-for-entries from the San Francisco jewelry artist, Jeanine Payer. The challenge posed to artists was to write a favorite verse in whatever setting one wished, and then to photograph it. Of course my mind wandered to color and flowers to embrace two of my favorite lines.

I didn’t win the contest (some fab, creative entries did!) though I know my great-grandma Helen, (or “GG” as I called her), would have been my fiercest competition had she submitted. GG was an amazing writer, an artist, full of grace, and always a huge influence on nurturing my creativity. She often wrote about flowers, nature, and could get you chilly by describing a winter day in Iowa.

My Mama says I inherited her competitive spirit, as GG was always entering writing contests and (at the age of 90 no less!) won a trip to Las Vegas for her prose. I think of her often as I create, and am sure she had a hand in putting these pieces together.

Beauty awakens the soul to act. -Dante

Roasted cauliflower has recently become one of my favorite starters to a culinary conglomeration, as some sort of magic happens in the roasting process, making the veggie somehow creamy and succulent. It’s fabulous by itself, or simplistically topped with chopped up cilantro, mint, or basil, olive oil & some (any, even cinnamon) spices. This particular Sunday, I had time on my hands, so decided to empty out my produce drawers and create.

Chopped up the fluffy cauliflower. Diced up a red onion, sprinkled (oh purple, so pretty!). Chives! Great for some green, check. Oh parsley too? Even better. As I began to scatter the ingredients across my baking sheet, I lovingly watched the repeating yet chaotic patterns form before my eyes like a meditation. I stepped back for a moment and linked back to my college Art History days, remembering Ed Harris’s tortured, cigarette-smoking role as Jackson Pollock in “Pollock”–OK, maybe that was more summer break movie night but the knowledge stemmed from my Ar History classes. I squinted my eyes and (not tooting my horn to compare my humble dinner to a master but) laughed, seeing some sort of (multi-colored splotchy) quilted parallel with his work. Pollock’s so-called “drip” technique is coincidentally the same that chefs use to pour liquids into a mixing bowl. His technique was always considered calculated even though it seemed sporadic.

To me, painting is always about the process of creating. When I look at a painting I’ve done, it’s hard for me to have an opinion on the finished piece–I instead think of the process, the challenges, the joys I experienced in creating. It’s so personal to me, and always, regardless of how the painting turns out, one I remember fondly. It is such a problem-solving mechanism to sit with colors and textures at each stage in the process and decide which should be welcomed next, how to balance the whole, and to shock it.

On that note, I turned back to my food prep with the thought of Pollock frantically circling his canvases: purple, green and white before me….needed warmth- oh! Those dried apricots I was munching on earlier- snip snip snip (yes, I have Emeril scissors I use ever-so-not-sparingly). Great. Not rich enough, still too pastel-esque. Sun dried tomatoes- DONE! They added just the contrast I sought. And for the finishing touches? Sprinkles of sesame seeds, curry (I needed yellow), red pepper flakes, an olive oil “drip” & salt and pepper. Into the oven to roast.

Divine. In the same sense that I feel all colors have the potential to work with each other, so too do delicious, fresh ingredients when given the chance.

The roasting process dulled the colors ever so slightly, but upon seeing (and feasting on) the end product, I reveled in remembering the journey, too.

Wild Quinoa from Raw Inspirations Blog

I recently hosted my gluten-free goddess friend (good friend who is now celebrating a gluten-free diet) for some quinoa goodness. She had wanted me to teach her a favorite quinoa recipe (which, in my kitchen, usually consists of a unique conglomeration of fresh produce, spices and sauces that can be found in my fridge & cabinets opposed to navigating a recipe) so I decided to try a new one.

Drawing inspiration from a few weeks prior when I had shared a recipe with her from one of my favorite sites, 101 Cookbooks, I decided to adapt it to fit our quinoa order. You can find the original recipe here.

We began chopping up beautiful broccoli florets, 2 red apples, red onion (among the tears!) and shalots to crisp. In the meantime, I took a short-cut to candying pecans (recipe calls for walnuts but when I hear “candied” I think pecans) heating them in a small frying pan with just a bit of melted butter and sugar. I cooked the quinoa alongside in a medium saucepan (concocting a 2:1 water to dry quinoa ratio, bringing to a boil, then simmering for 15 minutes).

Onto the dressing! Thankfully since I had bought the almond butter only one day prior, it still yielded the quarter-cup that the recipe called for (I have an exorbitant weakness for peanut and almond butters and would eat them both with a spoon three meals a day if I had my way…..so I don’t usually keep them in the house).  Almond butter, a garlic clove (mashed into a paste), sea salt, lemon juice, honey, and olive oil went into the mix, all ingredients I love and so my heightened craving went into overload.

At first taste, I found the dressing to taste like a lemony-almond-butter with an aftertaste of garlic and olive oil. OK. Not great. Oh sure, I hadn’t put in the two tablespoons of hot water, but I figured that was just a consistency courtesy to make the dressing more pourable.

I’ll never underestimate H-2-O again.

Upon adding jut that humble amount of water, the goop lightened its color by a few shades and achieved a graceful, tahini-grade composition. Taste. Again. OMG. The ingredients had blended together seemlessly, better than a late 90′s boy band…a good one (OK, wrong analogy).

I added about a quarter of the dressing plus juice from a half of a lemon (squeezed by my trusty lemon squeezer instrument bought in the Dallas airport on a layover- score!) into the quinoa as I fluffed it and it took on a very slightly creamy quality. I then padded the quinoa on to my favorite serving plate (also from the Dallas airport, same layover, yes I’m serious) before tossing the broccoli, apples, red onion, crispy shalots & candies pecans with the remainder of the dressing and hoisting it all atop the quinoa bed.

It was a success. All of the dressing’s flavors paired with the crunch of the raw veggies and fruits with the giving softness of the hearty quinoa was a match. We finished off every last bite with the help of another girlfriend who joined us. Now, the Incas thought quinoa to be sacred and deemed it chisaya mama, or the mother of all grains. Surely it was this sacred power that gave us the willpower to stay up until 2:30 am chatting away.

I’m sure it wasn’t the wine.

This week, upon researching more of her soup endeavors, I found that she is apparently most well-known for her “Love Soup” which, topped with mascarpone, ancho chili puree, pine nuts and lightly toasted pumpkin seeds, I think it sounds worthy of its name.

I like Anna’s confidence, and what struck me most about the article I first came across was how she closed it: “Dishes don’t have to match, good food doesn’t need to be fussy, and there is always room for friends.”

I cherish my morning walks to work, whether they consist of the full adventure of 1.8 miles by foot from Russian Hill to SOMA or a hop on the cable car or a bus and then a brisk 15-minute walk to my office from Union Square. I have a particular fondness for the quintessentially San Francisco Gump’s store on Post street, as the shop’s feel is more that of a museum, and their window displays always tease something luxe to be desired.

Recently, Gump’s windows boasted a few elegant, white china lines with playful backdrops divulging proverbs and quotes about dining. I couldn’t resist but commemorate the occasion:

Richard Whately

The first traditional proverb and quote by English logician (what a fab word), economist, and theologian Richard Whately speak to the vulnerability that comes with a hungry tummy…..

“Never argue at the dinner table, for the one who is not hungry always gets the best of the argument.” – Richard Whately (1 February 1787 – 8 October 1863)

“Never ask a favor of someone until they have had their dinner.” – Traditional Proverb

Oscar Wilde

The next two by Irish writers Oscar Wilde and John Doran speak to the nurturing effect (whether arousing forgiveness or an open heart) that a good dinner can have on a person. Centuries later, I think they still ring true.

“A good dinner sharpens wit, while it softens the heart.” – John Doran (March 11, 1807 – January 25, 1878)

“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations.” – Oscar Wilde (October 16, 1854 – November 30, 1900)