The lovely calla lilies Solana brought the other night glowed yesterday morning as the sun appeared.
The folds in the lilies curved and swooped as I spun the vase on the table,
just as I spun the bowl of white beans last night that I simmered with the rest of the diced tomatoes from the sugo I made on Monday, some chopped lacinato kale, garlic, diced sausage, and Parmesan.
One glorious winter a few years ago, my then-roommate Ben elevated our humble crockpot to a position of honor by creating soup after soup that we would eat throughout a given week.
I miss him, his careful attention to that parade of soups, and that crockpot; this simple soup (still full of flavor without the sausage and Parmesan, in a vegan iteration) reminds me of the many different kinds and colors of good things swirling around me in New York…
Before this week, I didn’t know my friend Margaret was not only a talented academic researcher in poetics, but also a poet. A real one, who can make words work in ways that made a small, interested group in the basement of Unnameable Books smile and clap in true appreciation on Tuesday night.
I convinced Margaret and her friend Joel, who teaches photography at the University of Buffalo, to stay a few extra days, and when the opera was sold out last night, we decided to have a celebratory dinner at my apartment instead. (I will link to pictures of these two lovely people later as those live on other cameras and in other places.)
We began with Long Island Blue Point oysters,
and I worked on my shucking skills to contain all the oyster liquor,
Then: crispy blinis with smoked salmon, local crème fraîche, and salmon roe while cooking leisurely and talking about students, motivation, and art.
I am extraordinarily lucky to know Galen Zamarra, Executive Chef of Mas (farmhouse) in Manhattan, and asked him how to cook fresh slices of foie gras. His answer (was perfect, of course):
in the pan you sear the foie in, fry thinly sliced shallots in fat until crispy. set them aside. then brown some poached pear…deglaze the pear with aged sherry vinegar. Make a sort of vinaigrette w/ foie fat, pear jus and vinegar to dress mache + shallots…make sure the dressing is cooled before you put it on salad or it will wilt.
Frisée was the best choice for underneath, as I was unable to find mache; I’m proud of this dish, and grateful to Chef Galen for the advice.
Then, I seared flank steak (it looked better than the skirt steak) and stirred wilted escarole with garlic into nutty kernels of farro,
and the earthiness of this dish (simplified from this month’s F&W recipe) helped ground us as we prepped for a party invite that had arrived, like the morning snow, as a gift that afternoon.
Rosie and Faris are really delightful and as much fun as Margaret and Joel, so it was good to be all in the same place as we counted down the seconds. I hope to spend more time in 2010 with all four of them.
The other gift of the day was this dress I happened upon in a store a few blocks away; I do think sequins are appropriate for ringing in a decade,
with blue vintage earrings for a blue moon under my vintage hat from the Brooklyn Flea.
Spending today quietly, I’ve been looking at the beautiful tulips Margaret and Joel brought with them along with their creative energy,
and even in its newness, I can feel how important the year ahead will be for all of us…
As part of the faculty for the PopTech Social Innovation Fellows program (they are an incredible group) that is brought together before the PopTech conference, I am staying a little above Camden, Maine, near Lincolnville Beach.
In the morning, it is quiet around our wooded cabins and quiet on the beach.
Yesterday I drove to the Camden Farmers’ Market, noticing the paint wearing away on the road, and smiling as I approached the murmur that always accompanies local food vendors setting up;
next week marks the penultimate market for the season, and wonderful local goods were on offer—I almost hugged this seller for obvious reasons (I am a calcium fiend), and the milk itself is the yellowish color and thickness of fresh cream.
My friend and colleague Keryn arrived and introduced me to the smell of Sweet Jenny,
and in her wonderfully energetic way, began to talk warmly about the dedicated sellers and local festivals—all reasons I’d like to be in Camden more often.
At Peacemeal Farm, I bought tiny brussel sprouts and listened while locals
debated which type of potato was the right choice for specific fish,
near jugs of cider,
papery bouquets,
and tables selling vegetables and wool.
Impossible to pick one of the many colored scarves,
soon dancing began, the music competing with a wandering flutist.
I was more interested in the charcuterie, considering this soppressata and deciding to try the salami with orange peel,
as reaching into the cooler with the beautiful bacon, after making the seller laugh that I had eaten a pig ear sandwich once (he was selling them to feed to dogs).
On the way out, there were baskets perfect for filling with market produce,
and dried arrangements with milkweed,
hard squash and soft pumpkins,
and lovely mushrooms still joined in the large mass they grow in on trees.
Out of the pastries at Atlantic Baking Company,
I picked a swirl that held apples and spices in its crispy layers, and spreading it with local raw butter,
sipping that beautiful raw milk, I headed back to sit and listen to the waves…
Like the grapes’ purplish skin, which slips, the calla lilies swirled around a bowl in autumnal hues,
with nearby bouquets ready for impromptu celebrations of the season’s turn,
and golden sheaves ready for tables and hallways.
Mushrooms spilled out of the baskets,
and big, beautiful porcinis are in season as well;
and with a counter still full of Evolutionary Organics’ tomatoes from this weekend, I skipped that awesome this morning in favor of Adirondack potatoes that I’ll make butter for later tonight…
In curating the symposium, David Sasaki also created “An Outsider’s Guide to Linz.” This post is an extension of his excellent guide with video and a heavy emphasis on food. (You can also find places David marked in Dopplr’s Social Atlas for Linz with geocoordinates.)
My Linz trip began with a burger in Cafe Walker that David didn’t mention would arrive with hidden corn kernels,
and later that night, through the drizzle as I walked out of the Haufplatz (the main square), I spotted my friend Seth Hunter.
Joining him and his fellow MIT artist Noah, we were off to fetch their bags from their installations, then to Italian restaurant Bigoli in nearby OK Platz (order the gnocchi), where Seth taught us how to make origami butterflies and we talked about the food of the future:
Back in the Haufplatz, young dancers in white unitards tucked glow sticks into their hair,
and then the lights went off, darkening the entire square, the better to see the glowing dancers move glowing balls to the other side of the street.
Friday morning, the market bustled in the same square (so much speck!),
and I bought a superlative cream-filled pastry with a hidden meringue layer,
thinking about food photography as I prepped for my talk (video) at the Ars Electronica: Cloud Intelligence Symposium the following day.
While the rain continued, I went to see the Ars exhibits for inspiration. A few of my favorites (also see my friend Ethan’s favorites):
a typewriter of images:
open sailing, a project about a floating community that models sustainability,
an LED abacus,
a skeeball marimba installation,
Arthur Ganson’s piece with scraps of paper winging their way,
and my very favorite, the geotextile mesh “Hylozoic Grove” by Philip Beesley,
that sensitively moved as you entered its translucent, shimmering space, brushing against branches.
Later that night, artists shrinkwrapped themselves as part of the Ars Gala,
and David toasted to the following “arscloud” symposium in classic style,
I had a wonderful tagliatelle at Cafe Lentos (highly recommend) with local chanterelles soaked in butter with steak and crunchy bits of sea salt, while Ethan had a Sicilian pasta with a large sardine,
and outside, the Ars Center pulsed with light patterns into the night.
In the clear morning, I could see rooftops and the Danube sparkling,
before I meandered around the organic grocery to find yogurt and granola to fly through last-minute revisions;
as part of the day’s proceedings at Ars on cloud intelligence, we asked all the “arscloud” symposium participants to hack their lunch (using fancy fast food as a model), and the winner made a CloudWurst (he explains):
After a full day, I opened my window to watch people mingle next to the river,
happy and tired from a long day of thinking about clouds and intelligence with this smart group,
and I stopped by a few sweets vendors on the way to group dinner,
purchasing a tangy yogurt cream pastry,
before traditional Austrian food (I had a black seafood risotto) at Alte Welt,
and then fireworks
and fire works (listen for Juliana’s take on this particular pile of flames).
The next morning, I wandered Linz, peering through open doorframes,
and admiring the fineness of the pale architecture (that almost has an icy tone to it, heavy on the glass),
watching those walking,
under crosses,
and past buildings with glittering, embedded religious mosaics,
on my way to the park,
and the buildings beyond,
On my way back, I found door handles shaped like pretzels,
more traditional Austrian for lunch,
and traditional dress to complete the lesson.
Before a trip up the mountain for dinner, I had gelato with David (hear what he discovers his favorite flavor is),
then it was time to meet gnomes,
follow them on signs,
to this restaurant,
where we all liked the pumpkin seed cheese best,
until the first course at the castle arrived,
consuming all our attention until (at least for me), this table sat down,
and there was birthday fire.
The next morning held pastries with Ethan and David,
this last is David’s favorite, and he felt it would power a longer morning run in the Austrian hills with Teddy of Project Diaspora (a former Ugandan Olympic hopeful in the decathlon),
and asking slightly less of other pastry, I purchased the Brandl Bakery version of the famous Linzer torte for the office, heading off to discover shaggy pastel marshmallows,
glistening jellies,
and an exhibition of recovered mosaic pieces from places of worship,
that included twinkling ships.
From the mosaiced currents, I opted for a fish sandwich a few doors down,
and wandering further, like a siren song, organ chords drew me into an old cathedral,
where I watched sunlight fill more and more of the pews as an unseen organist played on into the afternoon, sounds I carried with me back to Brooklyn…
