Tableau Vivante

I wish I had more time to expand on what I’ve read this morning.  But I don’t.  Instead I’m going to offer you a brief blurb about why you should read the front page (above the fold, no less, with copious graphics) article in the Los Angeles Times today about low-carbon diets.

Heck, you may not even believe that global warming is a reality.  Yes, even you should read this piece.  Pick it apart.  Dissect it.  It’s a powerful article and I’d like to get a better idea of how much of it is solid and how much of it is standing on one leg on a piano wire draped across the LA River.  In fact, a good portion of it reads a bit like a press kit from Bon Appetit Management Company Foundation (a company foundation?  hm!)  But there are also some fascinating tidbits about agriculture, local food, and all the bits that make up the giant carbon comida pie.  I was riveted.

Does this mean I won’t ever eat imported cheese again?  Will my quiches become guilt-laden tarts of terra turmoil?  As we celebrate yet another Earth Day (look, if it’s one thing Earth Day has taught us it’s that every day is Earth Day), these questions will dance around my brainmeats while I look for solid, factual answers.  This is, after all, a food blog that touts eating local, though not entirely for the carbon-quota.

Read it.  Discuss it.  Comment on it.  It’s worth chewing on.

When I wandered out into the wilds of our backyard this weekend, I noticed that the oregano was popping up all over. I had planted it years ago and since then it has required absolutely no prodding from me to produce. Fresh oregano = tasty meatballs in my book, so I made a nice big batch and included them in today’s lunchings. As usual, click through for details.

It wasn’t really until I opened today’s lunch that I realized how homey it is – a sort of meat and potatoes thing with a peanut butter and honey sandwich for dessert (thanks for the idea, Allez). Very comforting.

Mole. Moh-leh. Ai, Mexico. Gracias for this wonderful sauce.

I grew up with mole, that spicy, chocolaty sauce often reserved for birthdays, first communions, and weddings. Mi Tia Gloria served it at my engagement party. I order it at La Fiesta Grande as a side for carnitas. I put it on rice. I mix it into frijoles. I scoop it onto chips and couple it will some cooling guacamole.

Mole is right up there with Christmas tamales, New Years Day menudo, and my grandmother’s fideo as one of the foods that reattach me to one half of my cultural heritage. When I lived back east, I would try to carefully smuggle back a jar of Doña Maria and a carton of Ibarra chocolate after each family visit. Now that I’m back in L.A. again, I’ve got plenty of mole within arms reach.

Also within reach are the plethora of local Spanish radio stations that pepper the dial with accordion-laced cumbias. So for this food-minded Latina, mashing a cumbia up with lyrics about mole is a pretty fun prospect. For this, I thank Lila Downs. The song came out a while ago, but I haven’t shared it nearly enough. I loves me some Lila (her Agua de Rosas is also one of my favorites). Maybe you will too.

EDIT: hmmm the embedding isn’t working…so follow the link instead.

I’d been hosting my photos on the tiny corner of cyberspace that Earthlink affords me as part of a basic account. Apparently, in addition to a megabyte limit for storage space, there is a monthly gigabyte limit for traffic to that space. It had never come up before.

Well, it took one very kind introduction here, a seemingly harmless link, and about one day before Earthlink sends me a nasty email (okay it was polite, but still). It seems I’m bumping up against this month’s viewing limit with a week and a half yet to go. The dreaded “Page Not Currently Available” looms. So instead of writing something new I spent the weekend creating a Flickr account, uploading everything there, and meticulously hand-editing all my old posts to update the image links.

Our generous host doesn’t know her own strength!

In part because of this predicament, I’m flattered to be here. In gratitude I swear an oath: I will eat and drink for you! Oh, and subsequently I’ll do my best to post something interesting about it afterwards. Yah. That, too.

Under every foil cap, an oenological adventure awaits…

- inspector vino

Another cool, crisp spring morning. The 90+ degree anomalies aren’t all that bad, but I do have a greater appreciation now of how that dictates a farmer’s workload as we head into the summer fruit harvests. More on that later.

I got there way later this morning. Well, late for me anyway. Sometimes the bed is just too perfectly warm, the husband too perfectly cuddly, and the motivation too perfectly lax. I didn’t so much as sleep in as ignored the morning as it slipped by. For reference, I usually get up sans alarm at around 5AM. Today, feet touched floorboard at around 7AM. Made a few lists. Watched some BSG (Ron Moore, I totally dig your writing, but dang. This episode hurt.) Ate some leftover pizza. By the time I was out the door, it was around 9AM. Shocking, I say. Shocking. Much as I’m not fond of crowds, I do get a kick out of the conversations going on. Early morning market goers, like myself, seem to be more food-focused.  Friendly, but gabbing is generally limited to what looks good and who has seascapes out. The later crowd is definitely more social. Collections of strollers form suburban campfires where friends and acquaintances come and go, sharing info and sneaking peaks at each others’ market baskets.  It’s a more relaxed group.  Invitations are exchanged.  Dinner parties are planned.  I just liked watching the tides change.

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WAAAAAY back in the beginning of this blog, a good friend of mine who digs wine almost as much (ok, maybe more than) as I dig farmers’ markets would write some perky prose about wine under the name of Inspector Vino. To make a long story very short, his posts required me to post them, which meant he had to wait for me to get off my duff and do so.

And you know? When you have something to say to the world? Waiting is kinda frustrating. So with my complete support and encouragment, the Inspector started his own blog at Livejournal and I promoted him because, let’s face it, the man is pretty hip to wine and writes about it in a way that make you want to drink more of it.

But I missed him. Plus, he’s just a really good guy - a self-taught oeneologist-in-waiting who isn’t pretentious, dramatic, or arrogant. And he has a cellar inventory that humbles my sense of commitment. He has wines that he’s waiting to drink. For when they are ready. I’d be tapping my foot…a lot. But I digress…

Moving here means dearest IV isn’t dependent on me to wake up from my photography stupors to post his wisdom. He’s free to fly. And fly he shall.

Oh yes, I’ve got my wine guy back. And suddenly the world got a little bit blurrier.

Will he score wines ala Robert Parker? Maybe. Will he drown himself with the contents of a spit bucket ala Sideways to make a point? I hope not. But I think I can safely say we’ll all be a little wiser, a little braver, and a little more tipsy.

Inspector? Welcome back. Salud.

Lunch today is a test. I haven’t done sandwiches in my lunches for a long time because the last time I did? Soggy bread. Ugh. Terribly unappetizing. But I think I figured out what I did wrong (paired it with a semi-warm egg and then stuck it in the fridge where condensation happened). As usual, click through for details.

I mentioned that I recently went to a birthday event, and in true-to-me style, I gifted the birthday boy a bento set. He obligingly sent me shots of his first bento, what we both agree is the perfect coder/gamer/geek bento lunch.  This shot totally made my night.  He even sunstituted the blueberries I use in so many of my lunches.  I was so tickled.

That’s thin mints, pizza, a brownie, blue M&Ms, red vines, chicken crackers (I have no idea), and pretzel sticks.  He said it was the first time he had ever eaten pizza with chopsticks. :)  Made. My. Night.

More flowers and such today. The chicken was roasted earlier in the week and I decided to stud it with dried cranberries. I’ve also been craving cheese lately, so I cubed up some cheddar and scented it with thyme flowers. Keep in mind that I usually make these the night before so the scents have a chance to make nice with each other. As usual, click through for details.

Do you bring your lunch to work? It doesn’t have to be bento to be interesting. The ‘brought lunch’ has a international following, from the brown bag of the U.S. to the tiffins of India to the bentos of Japan. I’d like to hear how you handle lunch when your kitchen is out of reach.

I’m diving head first into herbing up my lunches. I’ve been so impressed with the flavor and aroma that herbs have provided my lunches that I’ve decided to experiment a bit. A sort of ‘bitter to the tongue, sweet to the stomach’ test as well as just a purely aesthetic trial. So far? I don’t know why I haven’t done this before. One, it’s just plain pretty. But two? The fragrances have worked to enhance the overall eating. Flavorwise, the impact is small, but I wouldn’t want it to be overpowering either. It’s just a subtle shift. And it’s something I’ll be doing as long as I have the herbs to do it. It really freshens up the box.

As usual, click through for picture notes.

JJ’s been telling me that Twitter is the new burrata.  So I’ve signed up.  But I’m not entirely sure how it’s going to fit into how I ‘do’ blogging.  I have a feeling it’ll be as ignored by me as my Facebook profile.  But I’m willing to give it a go.