Have you seen these videos from Animoto? Upload photos from Flickr and let Animoto do the rest. This video (and soudtrack!) is based on my new favorite spot-- The Georgetown Truck Stop. How cool is this? Love it!
Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams...
Decadence...at its best Picture a glass of bubbly in one hand...and a neat row of hand-selected caviar laid before me. Unadorned by anything but a delicate spoon carved of horn, the world's finest caviar was delicately scooped in succession.
Side by side, I sampled five caviars...observing the texture as plump beads burst against the roof of my mouth, releasing briney flavors with a hint of the sea. French reserve champagne provided the palate cleanser as we progressed our way to the climax: Iranian Osetra caviar, harvested from the Caspian Sea.
Yeah, I know....It's a rough life.
Did I mention it was 9:00 am?
Before the store opened, I met up with the owner of Seattle Caviar for a tasting. As we sampled our way through their selection, she explained the history of caviar, its impact on the global market, and we discussed how this delicacy is harvested. I was intrigued, and headed off to the library for more research.
Here's what I learned:
The word caviar comes from the Turkish word khavyar, and refers to the salted, unfertilized eggs of Sturgeon. This fish is found only in the Northern Hemisphere and like the alligator, has been able to survive since prehistoric times. Some varieties of sturgeon are giant. Beluga and freshwater Kaluga can live over 100 years and grow up to 16 feet long. Fully mature, they weigh up to a ton. Stories of lore say boats have been sunk as fishermen try to haul these behemoths from the sea.
Despite their size, these toothless, cartilaginous fish are quite docile and are prized not only for the female's eggs, but for the flesh, which has a meaty, delicate texture like veal. The swim bladder is also used to make isinglass, which is used to clarify wine.
Historically, Sturgeon have been found throughout the Northern Hemisphere (England, Italy, France, Egypt, and the Eastern Mediterranean). In most regions, overfishing destroyed any commercial prospects before the 19th century.
Today, two main sources of Sturgeon still exist...the area surrounding the landlocked Caspian Sea in Eastern Europe and in the United States. Let's take a look at the Caspian Sea Region:
Notice the Caspian Sea (Center) is bordered by Russia, Iran and the 'Stans (formerly of the USSR - Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, and Azerbaijan). Russia's caviar has long been revered and it is closely linked with their national identity. Since the breakup of the Soviet Union, Russian caviar has been acquired by black market means only. In fact, in Russia, caviar is so highly prized in the illegal trade market, that caviar is now shipped in armored trucks, often escorted by armed helicopters.
Attention has since turned to Iranian caviar.In contrast to Russia, the Caspian waters bordering Iran have suffered much less pollution and environmental degradation. Some experts prefer the caviar from this Southern region of the Caspian Sea. This territory has better water quality and a shallow seabed, which offers better spawning grounds.
Iranian Osetra: the crown jewel of caviarPolitics and food come into play...when in 1987, the United States placed an embargo on Iranian imports. This, coupled with the break up and subsequent black market trade in Russia, had a devastating affect on the world caviar supplies.
An outcry...and a more stable political environment...caused politicians to lift the Iranian embargo. Consequently, in 2000, carpets, pistachios, and caviar were once again available in the United States. (The embargo is still in effect for all other Iranian goods.)
American Ikura "caviar"
Though equally delicious, technically, caviar only comes from Sturgeon.
Ikura is salmon roe.
The American caviar market is equally fascinating and a good deal of it comes from the Mississippi River basin.
As the folks over at Seattle Caviar told me, fishermen in this region would snag a Paddlefish, (closely related to Sturgeon) and the eggs would often be discarded. Eventually, the local game department came up with a plan. Instead of throwing the eggs out, fishermen would turn the egg sacks into the Fish & Wildlife Department. The eggs were spawned in an artificial environment to replenish depleted stocks, and the remainder were sold to support a growing caviar industry. That program has become so successful, it's been replicated throughout the Mississippi River basin.
Meet the American Paddlefish, also known as a Spoonbill Finally, like farm-raised salmon, there is an effort to build an aquaculture industry, farm-raising sturgeon. California's Central Valley boasts an aquaculture farm that's been in existence nearly 20 years, and other farms are now in various stages of development.
A bit o' trivia:
Caviar quality depends on how mature--or immature the eggs are, and whether they are perfectly ripe. Each fish is different and it's up to the caviar master, or ikrjanschik, to determine how best to handle the eggs for optimum flavor.
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Caviar eggs have an extensive grading process and are noted by characteristics including: integrity, uniformity, size, firmness, color and shine.
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Preservation is key. It determines not only caviar's taste but its economic value and the final destination. Different preservation methods determine how long of a 'shelf life' caviar has...which impacts how far it can travel.
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The best caviar treatment is Malossol, or Russian for "lightly salted," which means that it can have no more than 2.8 to 3 percent salt. Lesser-grade caviars are salted more heavily and can contain up to 10 percent salt.
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Temperature is critical and caviar should always be stored between 32 and 35 degrees F. In fact, temperature is so critical, purchases at Seattle Caviar are sent home in a thermal bag with ice packs. Once at home, it's recommend you store caviar it in the coldest spot in your refrigerator...and enjoy within 48 hours of breaking the seal.
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Silver and caviar don't mix. While the look is elegant, sliver actually reacts with caviar, imparting a metallic taste. A more typical utensil is a small spoon made of gold, wood, horn, or mother-of-pearl. Or you can dine like the Russians...and enjoy your caviar eaten out of hand--specifically, the crook between your thumb and forefinger.
If you're in the Seattle area and you want to enjoy your own caviar tasting, Seattle Caviar is the place. $20 buys you a glass of champagne and a sample of 5 different caviars. For the tastings, no appointments are necessary. If you are dining lavishly, Seattle Caviar is also your stop for foie gras (goose and duck), truffles, and of course, caviar.
Seattle Caviar
2922 Eastlake Ave. East
Seattle, WA 98102
(206) 323-3325
Devastation....and The Kindness of Strangers
Black Sheep Creamery Farm - Chehalis, Washington December 2007
Remember the horrible rains we had back in December?
Flooded streets and swollen riverbanks meant people were digging mud out of their homes for months. In fact, some...are still trying to recover.
Local artisan cheesemaker, Black Sheep Creamery, is one of the farmers affected by those December floods. Water cascaded into their cheese cave...bringing with it a torrent of mud and muck. The barn suddenly filled with water, trapping their prized sheep. Sadly, they lost the bulk of their herd.
Home Sweet Home
When the family returned from safety, they found a sea of mud...
On the Black Sheep Creamery website, there are more photos....and a poignant journal, began before the flood. It's a great read about farm life...and beginning in January it includes a personal account of trying to recover from the devastation.
I was particularly moved by a woman who was dubbed, "The Crockpot Queen." They never did learn her name, but in the days following the flood, the family would find hot meals delivered to their home:
"January 7, 2008 The Crock Pot lady saved my families stomach’s tonight. I was out and about doing all sorts of errands and getting things done . I had just spoken to Brad to fill him in on yet another mind-numbing detail of things to do. I had asked him what we should have for dinner....Woo Hoo when I got home there on the hood of the truck in the garage was a gift from the Crock Pot Queen. We do not know her name, all she says is that she is a former neighbor and she brought us a crock pot with soup. Then she brought a casserole, and now more crock pot meals and goodies on top of that....
Thank you your Highness of the Crock Pot. I love those things, they hold good food, ease of use and now, in my mind, they hold a whole lot of respect for someone who has taken the time and trouble to cook and deliver her fine meals. People are like that. People amaze me.
We have received anonymous donations from incredible people who are happy to give with no strings attached. Who are just amazing to me. I wonder if we have even met???? We have had incredible gifts from so many people far and wide hoping to help the business prosper, or to fund a replacement ewe. We plan to be back up and running as soon as we can. We will make it back only through the help we have received from so many people, churches, organizations and cooperatives. People are incredible.
It had been a difficult day today. I finally wept, not just shed a few tears but wept."
Look for Black Sheep Creamery cheese at DeLaurenti, Whole Foods, and Beecher's.
And if you're in the Seattle Area, On Friday, May 2nd, Beecher's will team with the Pike Place Market's The Tasting Room to host a Cheese 101 class with 100% of the proceeds going to Black Sheep Creamery and their efforts.
Details:
Cheese 101 : Introduction to Artisan Cheese
Friday May 2nd
6pm to 8:30pm
$50 (all proceeds benefit Black Sheep)
To Register:
http://www.beechershandmadecheese.com/shop_classes
Back in Action
Okay people, I'm back in action!
On occasion, I get these crazy ideas....I dig my heals in...and resist the advances of technology. It was years before I finally succumbed to the realization that cell phones are a wise choice. When my friend came back from Africa painting vivid pictures of village life with no running water or electricity, but his mother had a cell phone (battery-powered)...it was time for me to give in.
Technology resistance reared its head again when I had my laptop stolen back in December. I decided to try living without such easy access to technology. To get my tech fix, I'd stay late at work, trek off to the library (1 hr/day time limit), use a friend's computer, or if I was really desperate, I'd head off to the local Kinko's and pay their outrageous $18/hr. (If I was super speedy, that translated to 20 cents a minute.)
The good news? It finally broke my habit of checking e-mail morning, noon and night. ("Crackberry" sans Blackberry...)
The bad news? I had a mounting pile of neglected projects...and was turning myself into a wreck trekking all over town for computer access.
Finally, I caved.
Yesterday I unpacked my new laptop and within minutes, I was cooing, "Hello gorgeous! Where have you been all my life?"
And as I took in the various features, I couldn't help but catcall, "Check out that keyboard. Ooh baby....And would you look at that monitor?" (Insert sexy whistle here.)
Yes, I am back in action!
And thanks to this little experiment, I've got a whole new appreciation for what it's like to be without computer access...
Issues surrounding the technology divide took on a whole new awareness when it became personal: with only 1 hour of access to public computers, how do people find jobs? Or write papers for school? Heck, with only 1 hour a day, how do you even get comfortable with technology? Computers may be vital to our society, but without access, how do you develop the necessary skills?
These are serious issues in developing nations, but I was shocked to discover how difficult it was here in the United States. It's a shame--especially when you consider our proximity to Microsoft and Google.
For me, living without a computer was a choice...and I could simply opt out, but for others? It's just not that easy.
What's the solution?
Here's a step in the right direction. Mohini over at Mango Power Girl has taken up the cause with an organization called One Laptop per Child.
As Mohini tells it, after their wedding, she and her husband pooled the cash...and donated funds to purchase laptops. "We decided to save the money spent on the cost of a big wedding, and to start our marriage off right by instead giving that much money away to the world's neediest."
Noble deed?
Sure.
But then I remember...it's by sheer luck of the gene pool that I was born in one of the wealthiest countries in the world. For me, giving back...goes hand in hand with that privilege.
On that note, I'll bring this post to a close.
While I've had limited computer access over the past few months, I've been collecting tons of stories--including some super juicy news (YAY!) and an update on my Round the World trip. I can't wait to share the news with you!
Stay tuned.....
On occasion, I get these crazy ideas....I dig my heals in...and resist the advances of technology. It was years before I finally succumbed to the realization that cell phones are a wise choice. When my friend came back from Africa painting vivid pictures of village life with no running water or electricity, but his mother had a cell phone (battery-powered)...it was time for me to give in.
Technology resistance reared its head again when I had my laptop stolen back in December. I decided to try living without such easy access to technology. To get my tech fix, I'd stay late at work, trek off to the library (1 hr/day time limit), use a friend's computer, or if I was really desperate, I'd head off to the local Kinko's and pay their outrageous $18/hr. (If I was super speedy, that translated to 20 cents a minute.)
The good news? It finally broke my habit of checking e-mail morning, noon and night. ("Crackberry" sans Blackberry...)
The bad news? I had a mounting pile of neglected projects...and was turning myself into a wreck trekking all over town for computer access.
Finally, I caved.
Yesterday I unpacked my new laptop and within minutes, I was cooing, "Hello gorgeous! Where have you been all my life?"
And as I took in the various features, I couldn't help but catcall, "Check out that keyboard. Ooh baby....And would you look at that monitor?" (Insert sexy whistle here.)
Yes, I am back in action!
And thanks to this little experiment, I've got a whole new appreciation for what it's like to be without computer access...
Issues surrounding the technology divide took on a whole new awareness when it became personal: with only 1 hour of access to public computers, how do people find jobs? Or write papers for school? Heck, with only 1 hour a day, how do you even get comfortable with technology? Computers may be vital to our society, but without access, how do you develop the necessary skills?
These are serious issues in developing nations, but I was shocked to discover how difficult it was here in the United States. It's a shame--especially when you consider our proximity to Microsoft and Google.
For me, living without a computer was a choice...and I could simply opt out, but for others? It's just not that easy.
What's the solution?
Here's a step in the right direction. Mohini over at Mango Power Girl has taken up the cause with an organization called One Laptop per Child.
As Mohini tells it, after their wedding, she and her husband pooled the cash...and donated funds to purchase laptops. "We decided to save the money spent on the cost of a big wedding, and to start our marriage off right by instead giving that much money away to the world's neediest."
Noble deed?
Sure.
But then I remember...it's by sheer luck of the gene pool that I was born in one of the wealthiest countries in the world. For me, giving back...goes hand in hand with that privilege.
On that note, I'll bring this post to a close.
While I've had limited computer access over the past few months, I've been collecting tons of stories--including some super juicy news (YAY!) and an update on my Round the World trip. I can't wait to share the news with you!
Stay tuned.....
Postcards from Malta
The Waffle Man is attending a conference in Malta this week. In sharp contrast to the odd late spring snow and hail we've had here in Seattle, as you can see...Malta is sunny and beautiful.
A bit of trivia: Malta is a small country in the central Mediterranean sea. Comprised of 7 islands, 3 of which are inhabited, this strategically located nation has been a member of the European Union since 2004.
According to Wikipedia, Malta is also home to the oldest freestanding structure in the world--dating back before 3500 BC.
Now, on with the photos...
A bit of trivia: Malta is a small country in the central Mediterranean sea. Comprised of 7 islands, 3 of which are inhabited, this strategically located nation has been a member of the European Union since 2004.
According to Wikipedia, Malta is also home to the oldest freestanding structure in the world--dating back before 3500 BC.
Now, on with the photos...
Looking out on old town
Naturally, my German would find the one boat sponsored by a beer manufacturer!
Notice the Lowenbrau logo?
Notice the Lowenbrau logo?
Typical narrow streets. See the crane taking up both lanes of traffic?
One Hell of a Year for Ethan Stowell
Ethan Stowell at Union, with film crew from Japan
Hey ya'll. Just in case you aren't glued to every food-related PR announcement like I am....I'm happy to report that my old client, Ethan Stowell, was just named one of Food & Wine's Top 10 New Chefs in America!
The issue will be out on news stands in July...or you can pop over to Food & Wine and preview the list here.
And to bring a banner year home...Ethan's also been nominated by the James Beard Foundation for Best Chef in America: Pacific Northwest. (The winner will be announced in June.)
But wait! There's more...
In the last 15 months, Ethan's opened not one...but TWO new restaurants...Tavolàta and How to Cook a Wolf (otherwise known as 'Wolf'.)
While I was working with Ethan, we were laying this foundation....and I'm so glad to see his vision finally come together. It's been one hell of a ride.
Cheers, my friend.
PS. If you want to read more about the concept and opening of Tavolàta...take a dip into the archives.
Bourdain, Back in Seattle
Psst....
You all remember Tony, right?
I just got word that The Man will be back in town on June 7th. He'll be appearing at The Moore Theater....and for a lucky few, cocktails will be served right on stage after the show. Mix and mingle with Tony on stage. How's THAT for theater?
Here's the deal: Tickets are not released to the public, yet. If you want in on the action, you must know the secret password.
Ready?
Log on here: www.ticketmaster.com/promo/g80nyx
Click on: Find Tickets
Password: FOODIE
Good luck. Tickets will go fast!
*****
Official Press blurb:
Anthony Bourdain is not your typical celebrity chef. This is not your typical night at the theater. Also available, VIP tickets to party onstage after the show with Tony (drinks and snacks by Heineken and Culinary Communion) and seats to a private pre-show dinner with Anthony Bourdain prepared by Matthew Dillon of Sitka and Spruce in his new venture, The Corson Building.
Signs of Spring
Signaling the first signs of spring....the University of Washington's campus is a riot of Japanese Yoshino cherry trees in full bloom. I spotted this group out on a chilly morning field trip.
Three Cheers for Seattle!
Nominations for the James Beard Awards were released today...and in case you missed it, Seattle has a nice spot in the limelight.
The list is filled with familiar faces, but I especially want to congratulate fellow blogger Heidi Swanson (101 Cookbooks). Her book, "Super Natural Cooking" is filled with stunning photography and delicious, straight-forward recipes. It received a nomination in the Healthy Focus category. Kudos Heidi!
And now, without further ado, here are the Seattle nominations:
MULTIMEDIA WRITING ON FOOD
Sara Dickerman
Slate Magazine
"A Chef's So-called Life: What Movies Get Right-and Wrong-About Life in the Kitchen"
OUTSTANDING RESTAURATEUR AWARD
Tom Douglas
OUTSTANDING SERVICE
Canlis
Owners: The Canlis Family
BEST CHEFS IN AMERICA: PACIFIC NORTHWEST
Maria Hines
Tilth
Holly Smith
Cafe Juanita
Ethan Stowell
Union
Jason Wilson
Crush
AMERICA'S CLASSICS (Restaurants)
Maneki
304 Sixth Avenue, Seattle
Owner: Jean Nakayama
With a rich history that stretches over a century--it has been around through both world wars, Japanese Internment, and has even seen one of its former dishwashers become the Prime Minister of Japan--Maneki is the only surviving restaurant from Seattle's once-bustling Japantown. Comfort food dishes like agedashi tofu and takoyaki share the menu with sushi and sashimi, satisfying homesick Japanese locals and introducing a new generation to traditional and Japanese cooking.
Happy St. Patrick's Day
Kiss Me, I'm Irish!
I spotted this guy stuck to a telephone pole over in Eastlake. He's looking a little worse for wear, but charming none-the-less. Here's hoping you fare a little better tonight...
Cheers!
A Taste of Home at the Polish Bazaar
I spent weeks taking scuba diving classes and when it came time to practice our skills in the water (first a pool, then the open water), they paired me with a beautiful girl with a ready smile. Lucky for me...she was an Oceanography major at the University of Washington, who took up diving to study our underwater habitat. Ala and I became lifelong friends...and over the years, her family has become an extension of my own.
For three weeks that summer, the women who gathered in the basement kitchen made over 1,500 pierogi. At the wedding, they were gone in a flash!
After the dinner hour, came the video presentations, dancing, and then....dessert hour. This included the wedding cake AND desserts made by the ladies of the Polish Home Association (poppy seed stuffed cookies and cakes, etc.)
Downstairs you can enjoy traditional Polish dishes of pierogi, sausage, cabbage rolls, etc. served by the young generation of waiters clad in Polish folk costumes. You can also buy home made desserts and pastries. Most of the Puget Sound area Polish organizations will have their booths or posted info. This is usually a quite crowded event, so come early!
We have many treasured memories together, but what I love the most, is her family's connection to the home country. One by one they emigrated from Poland. First Ala's mother arrived, and her sisters followed soon after. After a few years and the addition of spouses and children, they began to build a community. Poles from the home country found each other and together, they maintain many of their cultural traditions.
The gathering spot for these festivities?
Oh, if those walls could talk! Ala's father built the bar in the basement, and every Friday night you can satisfy your Polish food cravings with pierogi, stuffed cabbage and borscht. Ice cold vodka and imported beer are never far behind. Before long, you just may find yourself belting out a rousing chorus of songs from the hill country!
Yes, the Polish Home Association is where Ala was married. And in the weeks leading up to her wedding, the ladies would prepare food in the large commercial kitchen. I came to help. Whether I was washing dishes or carefully pinching the tops of pierogi dumplings, being surrounded by these women, animated and talking nonstop--some in English, most in Polish...it's one of my fondest memories.
Polish weddings are quite different than American weddings. After the ceremony, we arrived at the Polish Home for cocktail hour. 350 people descended on the lone bartender and with a line snaking half way around the room, I jumped behind the bar and gave him a hand. Cocktail hour was followed by a long and leisurely dinner with delicious bites from the home country...all prepared by hand. Roladen--thinly sliced lengths of beef, smeared with mustard, salt and pepper, lined with a pickle spear, rolled like a stuffed cabbage. This is seared and then baked. Delicious.
For three weeks that summer, the women who gathered in the basement kitchen made over 1,500 pierogi. At the wedding, they were gone in a flash!
After the dinner hour, came the video presentations, dancing, and then....dessert hour. This included the wedding cake AND desserts made by the ladies of the Polish Home Association (poppy seed stuffed cookies and cakes, etc.)
American wedding receptions are typically 3-4 hours (to make room for the wedding following this one....), but Polish weddings are an all day...and night affair. Dancing and drinking went well into the night and the ladies had a plan for this. After the dessert hour, tables were spread with yet another course! Just a little something in case you were hungry after all that dancing...I left around midnight (10 hours after arriving) but rumor has it that the festivities (and more food!) went on until well after 4:00 am. I have no doubt.
Today, the Polish Home comes alive again with their Annual Bazaar. The ladies are busy months beforehand, importing cut crystal and a wide variety of the famous Polish pottery. Bargains are here, for sure! Ala's mom imports treasured foods from Poland. For one day, everything from sausages, cheeses, candy and snacks can be found right here. And if it's pierogi you're craving, you can pick up a bag of the frozen dumplings, or dine on site. Today, the kitchen is filled with prized family recipes and treasured tastes from the home country.
Hint: Keep an eye out for the bright yellow, spiral-bound cookbook. All the best recipes are collected in this not-so-humble gem.
If you want to jump in on the fun, here's the details:
46th Spring Bazaar at PHA
Saturday, March 15th
Noon - 7 pm
Location: The Polish Home, 1714 18th Avenue, Seattle.
Admission and Parking are free.
Yes, this is the 46th Annual Spring Polish Bazaar! It is a yearly event organized by the Ladies Auxiliary.
The booths upstairs will offer Polish crystal bowl and vases, Bloeslawiec pottery, amber and silver jewlery, pottery, crafts, books, Easter eggs and much more.
Downstairs you can enjoy traditional Polish dishes of pierogi, sausage, cabbage rolls, etc. served by the young generation of waiters clad in Polish folk costumes. You can also buy home made desserts and pastries. Most of the Puget Sound area Polish organizations will have their booths or posted info. This is usually a quite crowded event, so come early!
The Grand Experiment
People are an endless source of fascination. And the randomness of an everyday encounter still baffles me....
I first met The Waffle Man at a hostel in Tucson, Arizona. He was moving around the cavernous kitchen with a single focus, oblivious to others in the room. I struck up conversation, but his responses were clipped. Clearly he was not in the mood to talk. Typically, I'm not chatty in the morning either, so why I persisted...it's still a mystery to me.
With those extremely short answers, I wondered, "Was he blowing me off...or just distracted?" The puzzle intensified when he had trouble answering simple questions like, "Where is home?" I learned he was in town for a conference. He was German. When I told him I was from Seattle, he said, "Me too!" Well, not currently, but he used to live in Seattle....
The story began to unfold:
While living in Seattle, he pursued a PhD at the University of Washington. This curious mind wanted to know, "In what?"
"Physics."
By nature, I'm not a science buff or a math whiz so ordinarily, that would have ended the conversation right there. Except...I asked him, "What was the subject of your dissertation?"
Things came to a grinding halt. He looked at me directly for the first time and said, "You really want to know?"
Of course the conversation was quickly moving over my head, but I mumbled, "Sure, why not?"
His response sounded something like Charlie Brown's teacher, "Wah-wa-wah-wa-wah." (My eyes glazed over almost immediately.)
Hoping to get some piece of information I could latch on to, I feigned interest and said, "Hmm...Tell me more about that..."
His eyes lit up. "Usually people outside my field don't care about such things. This is really great!"
It goes without saying...he commenced with more, "Wah-wa-wah-wa-wah."
The one thing that caught my attention? The project he works on is based in Switzerland. Ah, travel. We can talk about travel! I carefully navigated the conversation to beautiful Switzerland...and the European backpack trip I took many moons ago....
Flash forward to today.
To be precise, "The Waffle Man" is Dr. Uwe Bratzler, a nuclear particle physicist who came to the US on a Fulbright Scholarship. After graduating from the University of Washington, he was offered a job in Germany at the Max-Planck-Institute for Physics (Albert Einstein was the first director). From there, he went to work at CERN--located just outside Geneva, Switzerland. Under the Max-Planck helm at CERN, he was a project leader working on ATLAS at the Large Hadron Collider (LHC).
Dubbed the "World's Largest Experiment," both the ATLAS and the LHC are at the center of media interest these days. This collaborative project involves thousands of scientists and engineers from around the world and summer 2008, the project reaches its pinnacle. (Photo Credit: Maximilien Brice/CERN)
In relative terms, my knowledge about his project is still very limited. However, in recent months, it has received quite a bit of press in the mainstream media outlets. The New York Times followed their project. And this month, National Geographic has a fascinating piece as well.
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While he's in town, Uwe will be giving a presentation at Seattle's Town Hall. If you'd like to join us, the event is open to the public and admission is just $5.
Here's the Seattle Weekly announcement:
Over in Switzerland, CERN (European Organization for Nuclear Research) is preparing to run the most powerful machine on Earth, the large hadron collider (LHC), in hopes that smashing particles together will simulate the Big Bang and unlock the mysteries of the universe or at least a couple of them. Know as the ATLAS Experiment, the project could help determine the origin of mass, possibly by producing the Higgs boson, aka the "God Particle." It seems to me that the experiment, which will boast 40 million collisions per second, doesn't come without risks, such as inadvertently creating another universe. Here to explain why that doesn't make sense is Uwe Bratzler, Ph. D, a UW graduate and a physicist working on ATLAS, who'll explain the magic of the machine.
March 5, 7:30 pm
1119 Eighth Ave.
(206) 652-4255
$5 at the door
****
To learn more about ATLAS and the LHC, the New York Times has a great multimedia presentation here.
And catch BBC video here:
The Waffle Man is Coming!
Whew...
Since we last saw The Waffle Man, he has been trekking around the world for work. And it's been far too long since he's been in Seattle.
This trip? Things have been more than a little hectic getting ready for his arrival. But soon, all the event planning will be over and there will be nothing left to do. Things will simply fall into place...
Food geek that I am, I've spent countless hours pouring over cookbooks, trying to figure out what to make while he's here. Do I try something new or fall back on old favorites? Should I go Spanish, Italian or Vietnamese?
His response? "Pick up a couple bottles of wine and we'll order in."
Me? I'd rather plan the menu for days on end, thank you very much!
No doubt I'll spend most of the weekend cooking and preening my nest, and we'll probably eat at home only once or twice. Ah well, it's something to settle my nerves.
After months of e-mail and international phone calls...finally...he'll be here....
The Cake
When cooking for friends, I make a point to find their sweet spot. My address book is filled with basic contact information...and copious notes about allergies and favorite foods. No wheat for Shauna. Desiree loves lemon. You get the idea.
More often than not...when we get together...I might have a little treat for you.
And if you swoon and sing my praises? Well, I don't even think twice about it. Baked goods for life!
But nothing compares to this....
First, I must preface this story.
When you know a lot of people, eventually bad things happen to people you know. This year, I've been dealing with that a lot. Death, suicide, murder...That stuff in the news? It happens to real people...and unfortunately, in my inner circle, it's not only chefs who have been in the news.
And sometimes...people do stupid things.
Really stupid things.
A friend of mine was arrested on drug-related charges, and ended up going to jail. Did I say it was really stupid? Oh yeah. A product of the technology boom...G retired by the time most men are hitting their stride. He was young and ridiculously wealthy. And with one very bad lapse in judgment...he had nothing to gain, and everything to lose.
Off to jail he went...
So when G got out of jail, I wanted to let him know I was still in his corner. "A lot of things have changed...you've learned your lesson...now let's move on."
I made arrangements to meet G about a month after his release from prison. He was gaunt, with a dead look in his eyes and hair that had drifted from silky blonde to a wiry riot of grey. I tried to stifle my reaction, but a gasp escaped. The difference was profound.
Anxious to welcome him back to society and prove he was okay in my book, I baked some brownies. They were still warm when I arrived. G's teeth sunk into the chocolate, and little flakes of brownie skin fell like snow at his feet. The expression on his face was priceless!
I don't know...there was something about those brownies...and that warm, gooey chocolate...for just a moment, it seemed like G was back.
Rather matter-of-factly, he said, "This is my first 'get out of jail' present."
It broke my heart.
And he quickly lapsed back into a pool of uneasy calm.
The next time, I brought my signature cake. It's so unbelievably good...naively I thought, "This will do the trick for sure!"
G was still on work release, so I met him at the office. Awkwardly exposed, we sat a small conference table in the center of the lofted space. I served up a thick slice of cake...and waited for that expression again.
A deep smile spread across his lips.
And slowly, he began to talk.
We discussed his experience in prison (2 years) and what it was like to be out. It was a difficult adjustment…going from complete structure, to a life with choices again. Over the next couple weeks, he’d be able to move from the half-way house and return home. Although he would be on house arrest…there's nothing like being home.
Then he mentioned the daily drug tests.
G picked at the towering chocolate cake and said, "There's no poppy seeds in here, right?"
I laughed, dismissively. "No, of course not!"
"Good, because they're testing me for everything."
G rose to grab a drink of water…suddenly, something in my brain snapped! My face went flush and my throat went hopelessly dry. I nervously fingered the fork that rested precariously on the plate.
My voice quivered as I worked up the nerve to ask, "Are they testing you for alcohol?"
G replied nonchalantly, "Yep...they test for everything. I don't even eat poppy seed muffins. I know it's crazy, but I don't want to take any chances, you know?"
I was crushed.
"G, I have something to tell you."
Between gulps of water, he murmured, "Huh?"
"There's beer in that cake."
The color washed from his face.
Panic settled in his eyes.
In an instant, my offer of baked goods...went from the highest high to the lowest low. Like a movie trailer, visions of him returning jail ran over and over in my mind in 10 second shorts. Inside, I screamed a litany of "Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh MY GOD!"
G was calm...and far too polite.
Finally I blurted, "Go...PUKE! Stick your finger down your throat and get it out of your system." (It's funny what enters your mind at times like this. I remember thinking, "Those high school days of scarf and barf came in handy after all...")
G stood, frozen. Unable to move.
I gave him a push, "GO!!!"
As he slipped out the door, I eyed the cake. My mind tracked back to the trial, G’s time in jail, and how much he was looking forward to going home. I thought of his boyfriend and how the world would stop when G called from prison. After that ugly time, somehow, they made it through.
And I changed the course of those events.
It was just too much to bear.
Like a criminal, I fled the scene. Paper plates, half a cake, and an empty glass.
Back in the refuge of my car, tears erupted. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs followed. I couldn't catch my breath. And sloppy tears dripped on to my lips. The salty liquid was a steely reminder of my shame. Pleading with no one in particular, I wailed, "I didn't know. I didn't know...."
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I regained my composure and called my friend Rocky. After trying to assure me that alcohol cooks out of food, I made him look it up. Contrary to popular belief, all the alcohol does NOT bake out. (And when freedom hangs in the balance, it's not worth the risk.)
Next, I called G's boyfriend and confessed my guilt. A second wave of tears stifled my ability to speak further. He hung up and called G.
The hours wore on as we tried to do damage control. G called his parole officer and let her know what happened. (The term "parole officer" brought a whole new wave of tears....)
Back at the half-way house, G was tested. And we waited.
Sometime later that night, I received the call.
The test was negative.
Just when I thought I couldn't cry any more...a wave of relief flooded throughout my body...and tears found me again.
I don't remember falling asleep that night, but when I woke the next morning, there were dirty baking dishes stacked in the sink. They served as stark reminder of the previous day.
As I mindlessly filled the sink, a lacy web of bubbles formed on the surface. I ran the water as hot as I could stand it. My hands tingled and grew red from the heat. Scalding hot water could not remove the memory...but it could erase the bittersweet evidence.
***
If you're looking for a fantastic cake, this recipe comes highly recommended. Out in bloggerland, check out Smitten Kitchen's take on it here and Pip in the City's version here.
But if you know any newly-minted felons, seek out another recipe, okay?
Chocolate Stout Cake
More often than not...when we get together...I might have a little treat for you.
And if you swoon and sing my praises? Well, I don't even think twice about it. Baked goods for life!
But nothing compares to this....
First, I must preface this story.
When you know a lot of people, eventually bad things happen to people you know. This year, I've been dealing with that a lot. Death, suicide, murder...That stuff in the news? It happens to real people...and unfortunately, in my inner circle, it's not only chefs who have been in the news.
And sometimes...people do stupid things.
Really stupid things.
A friend of mine was arrested on drug-related charges, and ended up going to jail. Did I say it was really stupid? Oh yeah. A product of the technology boom...G retired by the time most men are hitting their stride. He was young and ridiculously wealthy. And with one very bad lapse in judgment...he had nothing to gain, and everything to lose.
Off to jail he went...
So when G got out of jail, I wanted to let him know I was still in his corner. "A lot of things have changed...you've learned your lesson...now let's move on."
I made arrangements to meet G about a month after his release from prison. He was gaunt, with a dead look in his eyes and hair that had drifted from silky blonde to a wiry riot of grey. I tried to stifle my reaction, but a gasp escaped. The difference was profound.
Anxious to welcome him back to society and prove he was okay in my book, I baked some brownies. They were still warm when I arrived. G's teeth sunk into the chocolate, and little flakes of brownie skin fell like snow at his feet. The expression on his face was priceless!
I don't know...there was something about those brownies...and that warm, gooey chocolate...for just a moment, it seemed like G was back.
Rather matter-of-factly, he said, "This is my first 'get out of jail' present."
It broke my heart.
And he quickly lapsed back into a pool of uneasy calm.
The next time, I brought my signature cake. It's so unbelievably good...naively I thought, "This will do the trick for sure!"
G was still on work release, so I met him at the office. Awkwardly exposed, we sat a small conference table in the center of the lofted space. I served up a thick slice of cake...and waited for that expression again.
A deep smile spread across his lips.
And slowly, he began to talk.
We discussed his experience in prison (2 years) and what it was like to be out. It was a difficult adjustment…going from complete structure, to a life with choices again. Over the next couple weeks, he’d be able to move from the half-way house and return home. Although he would be on house arrest…there's nothing like being home.
Then he mentioned the daily drug tests.
G picked at the towering chocolate cake and said, "There's no poppy seeds in here, right?"
I laughed, dismissively. "No, of course not!"
"Good, because they're testing me for everything."
G rose to grab a drink of water…suddenly, something in my brain snapped! My face went flush and my throat went hopelessly dry. I nervously fingered the fork that rested precariously on the plate.
My voice quivered as I worked up the nerve to ask, "Are they testing you for alcohol?"
G replied nonchalantly, "Yep...they test for everything. I don't even eat poppy seed muffins. I know it's crazy, but I don't want to take any chances, you know?"
I was crushed.
"G, I have something to tell you."
Between gulps of water, he murmured, "Huh?"
"There's beer in that cake."
The color washed from his face.
Panic settled in his eyes.
In an instant, my offer of baked goods...went from the highest high to the lowest low. Like a movie trailer, visions of him returning jail ran over and over in my mind in 10 second shorts. Inside, I screamed a litany of "Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh MY GOD!"
G was calm...and far too polite.
Finally I blurted, "Go...PUKE! Stick your finger down your throat and get it out of your system." (It's funny what enters your mind at times like this. I remember thinking, "Those high school days of scarf and barf came in handy after all...")
G stood, frozen. Unable to move.
I gave him a push, "GO!!!"
As he slipped out the door, I eyed the cake. My mind tracked back to the trial, G’s time in jail, and how much he was looking forward to going home. I thought of his boyfriend and how the world would stop when G called from prison. After that ugly time, somehow, they made it through.
And I changed the course of those events.
It was just too much to bear.
Like a criminal, I fled the scene. Paper plates, half a cake, and an empty glass.
Back in the refuge of my car, tears erupted. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs followed. I couldn't catch my breath. And sloppy tears dripped on to my lips. The salty liquid was a steely reminder of my shame. Pleading with no one in particular, I wailed, "I didn't know. I didn't know...."
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I regained my composure and called my friend Rocky. After trying to assure me that alcohol cooks out of food, I made him look it up. Contrary to popular belief, all the alcohol does NOT bake out. (And when freedom hangs in the balance, it's not worth the risk.)
Next, I called G's boyfriend and confessed my guilt. A second wave of tears stifled my ability to speak further. He hung up and called G.
The hours wore on as we tried to do damage control. G called his parole officer and let her know what happened. (The term "parole officer" brought a whole new wave of tears....)
Back at the half-way house, G was tested. And we waited.
Sometime later that night, I received the call.
The test was negative.
Just when I thought I couldn't cry any more...a wave of relief flooded throughout my body...and tears found me again.
I don't remember falling asleep that night, but when I woke the next morning, there were dirty baking dishes stacked in the sink. They served as stark reminder of the previous day.
As I mindlessly filled the sink, a lacy web of bubbles formed on the surface. I ran the water as hot as I could stand it. My hands tingled and grew red from the heat. Scalding hot water could not remove the memory...but it could erase the bittersweet evidence.
***
If you're looking for a fantastic cake, this recipe comes highly recommended. Out in bloggerland, check out Smitten Kitchen's take on it here and Pip in the City's version here.
But if you know any newly-minted felons, seek out another recipe, okay?
Chocolate Stout Cake
Bon Appétit September 2002
2 cups stout (such as Guinness)
2 cups (4 sticks) unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-process)
4 cups all purpose flour
4 cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
4 large eggs
1 1/3 cups sour cream
Icing
2 cups whipping cream
1 pound bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, chopped
Preparation
For cake: Preheat oven to 350°F.
Butter three 8-inch round cake pans with 2-inch-high sides. Line with parchment paper. Butter paper.
Bring 2 cups stout and 2 cups butter to simmer in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add cocoa powder and whisk until mixture is smooth. Cool slightly.
Whisk flour, sugar, baking soda, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt in large bowl to blend.
Using electric mixer, beat eggs and sour cream in another large bowl to blend. Add stout-chocolate mixture to egg mixture and beat just to combine.
Add flour mixture and beat briefly on slow speed. Using rubber spatula, fold batter until completely combined.
Divide batter equally among prepared pans. Bake cakes until tester inserted into center of cakes comes out clean, about 35 minutes. Transfer cakes to rack; cool 10 minutes. Turn cakes out onto rack and cool completely.
For the icing:
Bring cream to simmer in heavy medium saucepan. Remove from heat. Add chopped chocolate and whisk until melted and smooth. Refrigerate until icing is spreadable, stirring frequently, about 2 hours.
Place 1 cake layer on plate. Spread 2/3 cup icing over. Top with second cake layer. Spread 2/3 cup icing over. Top with third cake layer. Spread remaining icing over top and sides of cake.
2 cups stout (such as Guinness)
2 cups (4 sticks) unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-process)
4 cups all purpose flour
4 cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
4 large eggs
1 1/3 cups sour cream
Icing
2 cups whipping cream
1 pound bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, chopped
Preparation
For cake: Preheat oven to 350°F.
Butter three 8-inch round cake pans with 2-inch-high sides. Line with parchment paper. Butter paper.
Bring 2 cups stout and 2 cups butter to simmer in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add cocoa powder and whisk until mixture is smooth. Cool slightly.
Whisk flour, sugar, baking soda, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt in large bowl to blend.
Using electric mixer, beat eggs and sour cream in another large bowl to blend. Add stout-chocolate mixture to egg mixture and beat just to combine.
Add flour mixture and beat briefly on slow speed. Using rubber spatula, fold batter until completely combined.
Divide batter equally among prepared pans. Bake cakes until tester inserted into center of cakes comes out clean, about 35 minutes. Transfer cakes to rack; cool 10 minutes. Turn cakes out onto rack and cool completely.
For the icing:
Bring cream to simmer in heavy medium saucepan. Remove from heat. Add chopped chocolate and whisk until melted and smooth. Refrigerate until icing is spreadable, stirring frequently, about 2 hours.
Place 1 cake layer on plate. Spread 2/3 cup icing over. Top with second cake layer. Spread 2/3 cup icing over. Top with third cake layer. Spread remaining icing over top and sides of cake.
The New Global Oil Crisis
Palm oil seedsLast week, the New York Times featured an article about the world-wide shortages of edible oils. It's a fascinating piece that's worth a closer look.
First, it's important to note that oil (palm, soy, and canola) is dietary staple in undeveloped countries. Fried foods--for better or worse--boost caloric intake where food is scarce.
Second, huge demand for biofuels has depleted what was once a cheap consumable commodity. It's also putting pressure on the land, as farmers in the tropical climates of Indonesia and Africa, deforest land to grow palms for profit.
Yet, according to the NYT article, it takes 8 years for an oil palm to reach full production.
In 2007, demand and depleted reserves...increased the price of palm oil nearly 70%.
"Cooking oil may seem a trifling expense in the West. But in the developing world, cooking oil is an important source of calories and represents one of the biggest cash outlays for poor families."
A few other points of note:
- An acre of oil palm trees yields the same quantity of oil...as 8 acres of soy beans
- In calories/acre of production, only sugar provides more calories than the oil palm tree
- In China, the release of a limited supply of cooking oil caused a human stampede -- killing 3 and injuring 31
- In response to the ban of trans fats in the West, exports of palm oil to America doubled in 2007.
Click here to read the full text.
Photo slideshow here.
Mochitsuki
Mochi...what?
Mochitsuki is a traditional Japanese ceremony, celebrating the making of mochi. While the glutinous mochi is eaten year-round, it is particularly significant during the Japanese New Year.
Mochi is a Japanese staple and is used to make everything from confectionery, ice cream, and soup.
According to Wikipedia, traditional mochi-making involves:
1. Soaking the polished glutinous rice over night, then cooking it.
2. The wet rice is pounded with wooden mallets (kine) in a traditional mortar (usu). Two people will alternate the work, one pounding and the other turning and wetting the mochi. They must keep a steady rhythm or they may accidentally injure one another with the heavy kine.
3. The sticky mass is then formed into various shapes (usually a sphere or cube).
****
As luck would have it, the good folks over at Jungle City (fostering Japanese & US commerce) are sponsoring a Traditional Mochi Pounding event on January 26th.
If you want in on the action, quick...reserve your spot now. Space is very limited.
Can you guess?
Can you guess where I was over Christmas?
If you're thinking...sunny and warm...you're exactly right!
This stately palm tree is situated in front of my parents' place in Florida. Ahhh...80 degrees and sunny. Life is good!
For breakfast, I stepped into the back yard and plucked grapefruit right off the tree. Still warm from the sun, once I sliced into it, the little pink corpuscles were practically bursting with juice!
In this part of the United States, Spanish Moss hangs thick off the trees. Until this trip, I'd only seen it at a distance. Blowing gently in the wind, it has a ghostly, haunted appearance. But up close, it's quite beautiful.
The lake stretches 40 miles across and averages about 9 feet deep. For the past two years, Florida has been affected by a severe drought. Evaporation and continued water use has dropped the lake by 1/3. My dad loves to fish and their place is just a hop skip and a jump away....
This lush area is filled with birds, small deer, and alligators. Recently, my mom took her dog for a walk...and was trailed by an alligator. YIKES!
Since the drought began, the fishing hasn't been worth bragging about, but the lake is a great spot for air boating. These boats sit high on the water and easily navigate over the tall grass growing throughout the lake. I caught up with this guy just coming off the water.
Saturday means Flea Markets in Lake Okeechobee and we had a choice of two. For me, there was no doubt where we were headed. Here in Central Florida, this flea market is a little slice of Mexico.
It was Christmas....
And houses were all decked out in holiday finery. I laughed at the neighbor's reindeer...standing regally--right next to the palm tree. No doubt, balmy nights...and snowmen...are an odd combination.
But this guy takes the prize:
Forget the reindeer. Here in Florida, Santa's sleigh is powered by alligators!
Neighborhood Stroll: Leschi
There's nothing like a walk by the water to restore equilibrium...and in here Seattle, we are blessed with the Puget Sound and a number of lakes. Leschi is a pocket community, straddled between the two bridges that connects Seattle to the east side. Here, a mélange of joggers, prams, and dog walkers cast their gaze out on Lake Washington.
It's a perfect spot for sailing
or to
dangle your feet off the dock...
and watch the world go by.
The water beckons me to the shore, with a rhythmic lapping that coos,
"Come on, baby. Sit a spell..."
As the dock gently rocks, it echoes,
"You're here now. Put your mind at ease..."
Life is full of surprises....
Just waiting to be discovered....
I Was Robbed.
I tried to think of something clever to title this post, but the plain and simple fact is, I was robbed.
I came home late tonight, went over to my desk to fire up the computer...and it was gone!
Looking around, things looked the same, but not really. Then I went into my bedroom. Files, photos, and stuff...everywhere.
Strange. Most of the things I was worried about are still in my possession. (My passport is safe & sound.) But my computer is gone...with tons of photos, countless hours of iPod downloads, and other stuff only meaningful to me.
And they stole my ring.
Last weekend, it suddenly occurred to me...if I'd stayed with my ex, it would have been our 7th Anniversary. Leaving him was the right thing to do, but somehow, I couldn't bear to part with my ring. Now it's gone. Courtesy of one very bold thief.
Thank you.
Now I'll file the insurance papers and it will finally be over. I'll no longer have to worry about what to do with that ridiculously expensive ring. It represented hopes and dreams...that never came to fruition. And now it's gone.
My home has been invaded and that's unnerving. Possessions? They can be replaced. But my sense of security? Home sweet home? It's tainted now.
Forgive me if I don't write much for a while. I need to get a new computer, and put humpty dumpty back together again.
Cross your fingers, people. Maybe Santa will bring me a Mac! ;)
I came home late tonight, went over to my desk to fire up the computer...and it was gone!
Looking around, things looked the same, but not really. Then I went into my bedroom. Files, photos, and stuff...everywhere.
Strange. Most of the things I was worried about are still in my possession. (My passport is safe & sound.) But my computer is gone...with tons of photos, countless hours of iPod downloads, and other stuff only meaningful to me.
And they stole my ring.
Last weekend, it suddenly occurred to me...if I'd stayed with my ex, it would have been our 7th Anniversary. Leaving him was the right thing to do, but somehow, I couldn't bear to part with my ring. Now it's gone. Courtesy of one very bold thief.
Thank you.
Now I'll file the insurance papers and it will finally be over. I'll no longer have to worry about what to do with that ridiculously expensive ring. It represented hopes and dreams...that never came to fruition. And now it's gone.
My home has been invaded and that's unnerving. Possessions? They can be replaced. But my sense of security? Home sweet home? It's tainted now.
Forgive me if I don't write much for a while. I need to get a new computer, and put humpty dumpty back together again.
Cross your fingers, people. Maybe Santa will bring me a Mac! ;)
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