Depending on who you are and what you’ve experienced at Oliveto, the place might signify salumi or roast meats, ignite memories of chef Paul Bertolli before he started Fra Mani, or remind you of your first experience eating an heirloom tomato. It could be the place you got engaged or the place you just had a blissfully lingering night out with friends. Last night it was the host of a memorable family dinner, our table laden with things like precious agnolotti and linzer torte made with locally grown, whole ground flour.

At Oliveto the flour discussion is reaching a fever pitch. It is difficult to imagine that Community Grains, the company Bob founded in an effort to create a local ‘grainshed,’ is getting truly whole grain pastas on grocery shelves and all the while the stocks and stews are brewing for 3-day agnolotti in the restaurant. It makes juggling sound like an exercise in twiddling.

To make a very long story short, Community Grains wants to solve a few problems the Klein’s have noticed in the restaurant and in the greater community. The problems are perhaps best illustrated by a comment that a miller from Certified Foods made to me as we finished off a plateful of completely whole wheat apple pastries and salted chocolate cookies. He said his wife, who is in rice farming, had been called by a UC Davis student on the path to finding the farms that were connected to a single pint on Haine Rice Dream. It took the student and his entire class eight months to retrace the path from farm to food for rice ice cream. Many of the products at the grocery store would require similar diligence to determine their origins.

It is hard to get good flour, but in the process of searching for it they discovered what good flour really is: that which has been milled with the germ and bran intact rather than being separated from the endosperm, which is actually not living cell tissue. Stone-milled flour. I know this because I was recently invited over to the restaurant and found myself in a room of not only food writers but farmers, scientists, bakers, and millers. The dynamic perspectives on this universal food staple made me want to rethink my own kitchen pantry.

Luckily, Community Grain flours, like the Hard White Winter Wheat I’ve been playing around with, can be found on local Bay Area grocery shelves, and are beginning to catch on with Whole Foods. Community Grains pastas are getting better and better with the new Identity Preserved line, which includes a marvelous Fusilli Lunghi. I met the farmer who removed rows of old grape vines in Healdsburg in order to grow Desert King variety wheat. He’s a part of a greater experiment to find out which wheats grow best in which Bay Area micro-climate and which stone-milled flours work best for which uses. Hard Red Winter Wheat isn’t as good for pastry or tea buns, but it can yield an incredible sourdough loaf, for instance.

I encourage you to build sauces around Community Grains pastas, and to use these stone-milled flours in your cooking and baking as much as possible – after all, the simple-starch flours we’ve grown accustomed to are directly indicated for GI tract inflammation and all the health issues that steam from it. This isn’t a dieting or gluten-free issue, but rather represents the greater context around which both obesity and food allergies have arisen. It is a switch in taste, but if handled with enthusiastic openness and willingness to try new recipes, it will be a wonderful transition for you and your family. There are some good-looking recipes on the Community Grains website, as well as tricks from baking master Craig Ponsford, past gold medal winner of the Coupe du Monde de la Boulangerie, he uses exclusively stone-milled flour at his bakery in San Rafael, Ponsford’s Place.

With the Lunar New Year coming up soon, I love resurrecting childhood memories of celebrating with the Tibetan monks whom we often hosted. They were big on sharing plentiful food during this holiday, and the urge has definitely passed to me. I snagged a big bag of Community Grains Hard White Winter Wheat from Monterey Market and have found it works very well for making momos—over-size Tibetan-style dumplings.

Serena’s Momos

Dough
2 cups Hard Winter Wheat Flour from Community Grains
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp baking soda
2/3+ cup warm water (not hot)

Filling
3/4 ground beef or lamb
10 or so fresh shitake mushrooms (or dried and re-constituted)
2 stalks celery with green tops on
oil and butter, about a tablespoon each
fresh ground black pepper
3 TB grated ginger (I recommend using a Microplane)
1 tsp chili paste, or 1 minced, de-seeded hot chili pepper
2 tsp kosher salt
2 scallions, chopped
optional: cilantro or chopped caramelized onions
*basically any combination of herbed and spiced veggies and/or ground meat can be used as a filling. If you don’t use any meat add mashed yam or an egg to keep the filling together. Even though these are far from traditional fillings they are still quite good and fun for experimentation.

Measure out the flour, salt, and baking soda into a large bowl and mix to incorporate. Slowly add the warm water until a dough starts to firm, adding less or more as needed to make a dense dough. If you add too much water and the dough begins to feel slimy add a little more flour. Once a ball is formed, turn out onto a clean counter or stone surface and knead a dozen or so times. Place in a clean plastic bag (I reuse them from other packaging, cleaned and dried, of course) and let rest for 20 minutes to 2 hours, 2 hours if you have the time.

Make the filling by sautéing the celery and mushroom in the oil and butter and add a generous amount of ground pepper. Add half of the salt. Cook until tender and slightly caramelized. Add the ginger and chili paste and stir to combine, then turn off heat and let cool to room temperature. Mix with the raw meat and add the rest of the salt and the chopped scallions and cilantro, if using.

Roll into a snake and cut into 16 even pieces. Roll each piece into a round and place a tablespoon of the filling into the center. Pinch either by pressing into half-moon shapes, or by folding and pinching as if making small pleats. You can also twist the tops in a bun shape. Any matter of folding the momos that doesn’t have any areas where the dough is too balled up will suffice. Folding these is often best taught hands on and gets easier with practice.

Place in a steam basket lined with parchment and work in batches (unless you have a giant steamer!). They take about 12 minutes t cook through, but check doneness by sacrificing one and cutting in half to see. Serve hot with chili paste mixed into some soy sauce, strands of quick-pickled daikon, or straight hot sauce. Make double and triple batches and share with friends.

Over the past two weeks I’ve made batch after batch, and what started as a damp weather project became a serious endeavor, resulting in the recipe below. I found a dough that has a shorter rising time than most cinnamon bun recipes and a cake-ier, more even-cooking crumb so the buns are good the next day, with or without frosting. I got the idea from a German plum cake I had, and adapted that dough. Try adding zest or toasted chopped nuts to the filling, or pumpkin pie spice for Thanksgiving flair. The house will fill with the most homey aroma as these start to turn golden in the oven.

German Cinnamon Buns
makes 12-14 buns

Dough
3 tsp yeast (doesn’t have to be quick rising)
1 cup warm milk
1/3 cup plus 1 tsp sugar
3 1/3 cups flour, divided
6 TB butter
2 eggs, room temp.
pinch of salt, generous if using kosher salt

Filling
2 TB cinnamon
3/4 cup brown sugar
4 TB butter (half a stick)
optional: lemon zest, orange zest, chopped nuts, chopped dried cranberries

Frosting
4 oz. cream cheese (half a package)
3/4 cup powdered sugar
4 TB butter, just melted
1 tsp vanilla

Warm milk in small bowl and sprinkle 1 tsp sugar over the top. Sprinkle the yeast over the top, then 1 cup of the flour and stir until completely combined. Let sit to ferment for 10 minutes, I put it in an “off” oven.

Beat butter and remaining sugar, then beat in one egg at a time. Sift flour and salt three times and fold in to yeast mixture in layers with butter and egg mixture.Combine well, adding a little flour if too wet. Knead in the bowl a few times and bring into the center of the bowl. Cover with a kitchen cloth and let sit in the oven again, turned off.

Let rise until doubled in size – usually takes no less than 1/2 hour and no more than an hour. At 100 degrees F, this dough is happiest and rises most readily.

Mix filling together and make frosting while the dough rises. I made soup and some buckwheat salad during the time, too. For the filling, simply stir together the cinnamon and brown sugar. For the icing, whip all ingredients together.

Flour surface and turn out dough. Roll into an oblong rectangle, about 8-inches tall and 15 inches long. Don’t over-roll or roll the dough too thin, it should be at the very least 1/2 inch thick. Smear with 1/2 stick room temperature butter then sprinkle with cinnamon-sugar. Carefully roll the long side down, tucking in the end, then roll toward you until you have a long cinnamon bun log.

Use a sharp knife to cut 1 1/2-inch sections, and arrange in a lightly-buttered 9×13 Pyrex. Cover them with a kitchen cloth and let sit while the oven heats to 375 degrees F or a bit longer, say 20 minutes, then pop them in. Bake for 14-18 minutes, or until the top edges start to turn golden. Let sit to cool for at least 15 minutes before cutting in. They will be completely connected when they are done, so use a little spatula to release them. I like them best individually frosted, but if you’re serving up a gaggle of hungry folks, by all means go ahead and frost them all once they are mostly cooled.

I must say, they taste incredible with a hot pot of fruity black tea.

It’s never been especially tasty to imagine all the toil that goes on behind our plate, I’ve even heard you don’t digest as well if you are upset or distracted will dining.  But this does not mean that ignorance is bliss. In celebrating delicious foods, there must be some pause given in the name of longevity. Although the industrialization of food originally brought many benefits, I have yet to meet someone who thinks the system is honky dory today. GMO seed farmers, dairy ranchers, urban farmers… the cross section of food folks I’ve talked to all seem to be saying the same thing, that the future of food and farming is in jeopardy.

There’s hope in new ideas where distribution is more localized and pricing done in a way that allows farmers the room for a “healthy measure of inefficiency” necessary for long term sustainability. But few people are aware that the antibiotics given to animals to enable a life in a multi-story box aren’t filtered out of the watershed, that herbicides like atrazine, a potent carcinogen, are still used widely even though the town where it is manufactured is one of the worst superfund sites in the Midwest, and that genetic diversity – the key to disease resistance and crop specialization for varied environments – has waned by staggering numbers in the past century. Here’s one studied National Geographic photographer’s talk about heirlooms and the loss of species. Corn, which pollinates by wind, is especially threatened. If you don’t believe me, read more about the ancient varieties of corn being contaminated by GMO strains.

Yes, its a bummer to talk about. Not so-called “dinner table conversation,” but it also can’t be ignored. I think a great place to start refining personal ideas of eating is around beef. There are slews of folks who have decided not to eat it at all because it requires too many resources, but I’m talking to the folks who still believe in good beef.

Just what constitutes good beef, though?  Doug Stonebreaker of Prather Ranch Meat Co. sells beef from Shasta’s Prather Ranch, a closed herd where ranchers are veritable cowboys and cattle rove open grassy planes, fulfilling their inherited behaviors. This way there is little or no need for medication or dietary supplements to ensure a healthy herd, and with a little organic barley enhancing the food at the height of maturity the fat marbling is consistent, ensuring a tasty end result. Temple Grandin’s insights are put to use every day at Prather Ranch. (I’m looking forward to visiting soon and sitting down for a podcast, too!)

Local Butcher Shop in Berkeley is a leader in offering “good” meat to the community, only selling beef that is raised and slaughtered within 150 miles of the shop and fed grasses from the same land. They offer transparency at every step of the process.

There are a number of other resources for beef that are given more consideration than the lot farms you pass driving down the 5, but there are considerable obstacles in the economics of it, lack of social pressures, and plain old confusion. Eating consciously has become an intellectual pursuit, and sometimes we just want to sit down to dinner.

The folks at Oliveto are hosting panel discussions to clarify some of these confusions, and making them accessible to pretty much anyone with $10 to spare. Come out Saturday, September 8th for the panel on beef, and again on the 16th for a similarly in-depth discussion about tomatoes.

I can say that even with all I’ve seen and heard about the future of food, a good recipe is still a good recipe. A table of glowing faces sharing a meal is still a miraculous joy. We do the best we can, but armed with a little knowledge and understanding we can eat better, for the long term future of food.

Here’s a little shopping guide for the Bay Area with butchers where it is encouraged to ask questions about your meat before you buy:

Avedano’s – local butcher, also homemade brisket and sandwiches, 235 Cortland St., SF
Prather Ranch Meat Co. – unparalleled beef raised with the future of food in mind, SF Ferry Building and more
Star Grocery – independent butcher in the back of the shop will chat while serving you, 3068 Claremont Ave, Berkeley
Ver Brugge – friendliest place to buy meat, almost all local, another chatty place, 6321 College Ave, Oakland
Local Butcher Shop – strictest standards, supplies Chez Panisse and Flour and Water, 1600 Shattuck Ave., Berkeley
Marin Sun Farms – sustainable practices are put into action right in our backyard, Pt. Reyes, Oakland, Meat CSA and more
Fatted Calf – take a whole animal butchery class or learn to cure meat, 320 Fell St., SF, and Napa
Golden Gate Meat Company – one of the leading suppliers of better restaurants, SF Ferry Building
Little City Market – old school family operation, dozens of homemade sausages, 1400 Stockton St., SF

All frozen deserts need the right blend of sugar and milkfat to keep the whole batch from freezing solid. Ice cream is slowly frozen, so it has a lighter texture and typically higher butterfat content but lower sugar. Gelato is not whipped while it is being frozen so it is denser. The texture is created with higher sugar content and lower butterfat content. Sorbet skips the dairy altogether. I don’t think there’s an official FDA term for freeze-dried ice cream yet…

As you go exploring through the city, find these spots to cool yourself with a sweet treat. Most are located close to downtown and near public transit:

Mitchell’s Ice Cream – Noe Valley

You can tell a local from a newcomer to San Francisco based on whether they know about Mitchell’s. It isn’t the coolest or the newest, but this local treasure has been making great ice cream since the 50s. Even people from the outer reaches of the Bay will say they grew up with Mitchell’s. It takes multiple trips to get a taste for the variety of flavors here, but make your scoop a halo halo sometime – a traditional Filipino dessert with a buried treasure of mongo beans, sweet beans, buko, langka, ube, pineapple, palm fruit, evaporated milk and shaved ice. 688 San Jose Avenue, www.mitchellsicecream.com

Smitten Ice Cream – Hayes Valley

When in Hayes Valley, stop at Smitten. It’s a moniker as true as “when in Rome,” or that’s how you’ll feel after witnessing your ice cream being whipped up before your eyes. Smitten is an apt name. With the whir of a nifty freezing machine, the highest quality ingredients are poured together and made to order, yielding a rich, smooth texture and a vibrant fresh flavor. Vanilla and chocolate are standards and seasonal scoops like the mesmerizing Strawberry White Balsamic I had last week change regularly. 432 Octavia Street, smittenicecream.com

Bombay Ice Cream – Mission

This neighborhood, home to the fabulous SF Streetfood Fest, has more choices for top notch coffee, donuts, ice cream and tacos than any other, and is quickly becoming the go-to ‘hood for good eats. Bombay rises to the top of the proverbial heap because I just can’t get enough of the flavors: almond pistachio, saffron, cardamom rose, chai, fig, and cashew raisin…tropical spice fans will go bonkers. To find the shop, make your way toward the highway overpass to what might seem an unlikely spot for a scoop and you’ll discover Indian ice cream bliss. 245 South Van Ness Avenue, www.bombayicecream.com

Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous – Dogpatch

I don’t know about you, but I find it impossible to resist anything with lemoncello and candied violets in it, let alone ice cream. Enter Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous, located in the Dogpatch. These folks may have won the edgy flavor game with their consistently tasty batches of ice cream like “Ballpark” (Anchor Steam beer, peanuts, and chocolate pretzels) and “Pink Squirrel” (Chinese almond cookie and cherry ice cream), both of which are marvelous no matter what you conjure. And standard flavors, such as coffee and mint, are done with panache. 699 22nd Street, no web

Swensen’s – Nob Hill

My old stomping ground isn’t where you would expect to find an ice cream shop. The blocks surrounding are towering deco apartment buildings have an old-world urban feel. Low and behold, this corner has been reserved for ice cream, and for much longer than the many “new wave” ice cream shops around town. Fans of rich chocolate and peanut butter flavors will be especially smitten.  Also look for their famous and unique Swiss orange chip. I wonder how their pineapple coconut compares to Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous; I’ll have to compare next time…. 1999 Hyde Street, www.swensensicecream.com

There’s more ice cream spots that are worthwhile! Find them and other deserts in my San Francisco book‘s Sweet Tooth chapter. And for more ice cream-y fun head to Omnivore Books on June 18th for my favorite Seattle ice creamery’s book signing, right here in SF!

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It’s It’s Recipe

My favorite way to eat ice cream around here is in the form of an It’s It. Together with the popsicle, the Mai Thai, Chicken Tetrazzini and a few other classics, It’s It’s are one of San Fransisco’s proud food inventions and a hometown favorite. Thankfully they are easy to create from your favorite ice cream, gelato, or sorbet.

Just pick up a pint from one of these local stops and sandwich a few scoops between these rainsin-less oatmeal cookies.

Oatmeal Cookie Recipe

INGREDIENTS
3 c. organic rolled oats
2 c + 2 tb. organic unbleached all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground cardemon
1 c. unsalted butter, softened
1 ¼ c. light brown sugar, pressed lightly into the measure
2 eggs
¾ c. organic cane sugar, granulated
1 1/2 tsp natural vanilla extract
1 tb water
1 tsp. salt

Cream the butter and sugars in a large bowl. Slowly add the eggs and vanilla. In a small bowl mix together the dry ingredients aside from the oats. Combine with the wet ingredients and then gently turn in the oats without over stirring.

I find these cookies come out fine without chilling, but especially if you are making larger cookies they will come out better if you let the dough sit in the fridge for a few hours before baking. Use a tablespoon to divvy out dough on the sheet – depending on the size you want your sandwiches you’ll want to adjust your dough balls. The most important thing isn’t the individual size but that the sum is of relatively uniform size.

Cook 1-inch size balls for 7-9 minutes, and 2-3 inch ones for up to 10 minutes. The quick cooking time requires familiarity with your oven and a close nose and eye.

Cool completely before even thinking of making a sandwich – these cookies may not even look completely solid when they come out of the oven but they are perfectly chewy and hold up to the ice cream filling well.

Leave the ice cream on the counter for 10 or 15 minutes so it isn’t frozen solid when you are prepping the sandwiches. After making them, I put the sandwiches back in the freezer for an hour before serving.

*NOTE: Use caution, we are dealing with a seriously caustic hydroxide. Although it’s totally possible to teach yourself, if you are at all apprehensive I do recommend learning soap-making in a class setting where all of the steps are demonstrated and specific issues can be addressed, and I’m not just plugging my class here.*

Making soap is one of those connective activities that, while I’m doing it, makes me feel as though I am really a part of the generations before me. Even though its been years since my first batch, I still recall the myths of soaps discovery along the Tigress River ages ago. It was told to me that the intense ash from nearby active volcanos mixed with mountain stream water and the fat from ritual sacrifices so that when the women would go to wash in the river they’d find suds where the streams met with it. Ash is one of the most basic ways to make a strong base liquid, which then saponifies when it meets with fat. If you couldn’t source lye or potassium hydroxide from the hardware store you could make your own by dunking a pillowcase full of charcoal into a bucket of purified water for several hours, then testing the pH. But even when using store-bought ingredients. the chemical reaction is the same reaction those washer women experienced, and all those who have made soap since.

There are as many variations in making soap as there are in making cheese, and the primary division follows this analogy – there are soft and hard cheeses and soft (liquid) and hard (bar) soaps. So as you research soap making for, perhaps your Earth Day project, keep in mind that there are numerous approaches and styles even within both main types.

I think making your own soap is a fun and simple contribution to make to reduce the packaging you use, but as I said, the historic context also makes it a joy to do.

To make a good, solid bar of soap you need at least one oil that’s considered by soap-makers to be “hard.” Unfortunately, these are usually the oils that are more difficult to find, and some have political or environmental connections that make them less than ideal. I avoid palm oil, hydrogenated soybean oil, vegetable shortening, and factory-farmed animal fat for those reasons. My preferred “hard” oils are organic coconut oil, animal fats procured from Local Butcher, castor oil, avocado oil, and fair trade shea butter.

Then, there are the so-called softer oils, like olive oil, canola oil, and softer animal fats like lard and especially chicken fat.

Use a lye calculator to plug in the amounts of each oil you want to use to make your soap. A total fat weight of 100 ounces yields around 8 large bars. The rule of thumb that has held true for me: the more types of fats you use the more luxurious your soap. Try to keep the harder and softer fats in balance so you have a solid enough bar. If you want lots of bubbles use at least 3 ounces of coconut in 100 ounce batch. If you use all olive oil you’ll have to cure your bar for months in most cases. Further research on the assets of each fat can help, too.

After you plug in the amounts you’ll determine the range of liquid to use and the amount of lye. Use the 6 or 7 category in the green field on the lye calculator I’ve linked to above to optimal soap that’s gentle and slightly moisturizing. Follow soap-making instructions given on the lye calculator read-out (make sure you check the box to include basic soap making instructions when you’re plugging in amounts).

It is easy and simple to make a cold process bar this way. Once you buy the initial set-up items (list below) it becomes very inexpensive to have some ritzy soap for you and your friends. Best of all, it continues to be interesting over time because of the complexities of coloring, scenting, swirling, superfatting (yup, that’s for real), cooking, processing, and blending soap. There are soaps from all over the globe, so its possible to use different ingredients and learn about world cultures through this little crafty project.

Basic Soap-Making Tools
This list is really as short as it can be. I’ve tried soap-making with a crappy scale, without a hand blender, using a butcher knife to cut the soap, and without measuring temperature but you don’t get a reliably good bar without the following, for the above general method of cold process soap:

Digital scale to .00 ounces
Accurate thermometer
Soap-only bowls, pitcher, measuring cup
hand blender
gloves
protective eyewear
Slotted spoon
rubber spatula
bath towl
pastry cutter
cleaned used milk containers or other recycled container for soap mold

I wake up each morning and take a little time to reorient my motivation. In the midst of the January resolution hoopla I find myself with a dozen or so thoughts on the year ahead that I might want to implement on a more drawn out basis – say one goal a month. Then even that gets too complicated and I revert to just wishing for the time to think about my direction.

So, as I steer my virtual rudder, I find myself with a few initial hopes, based in large part on my experiences in December 2011. The long and the short of it is this: I hope to refine my decision making skills, not to take on too much, and, last but not least, to be more ambitious and adventurous in my cooking.

I’ll start with my kitchen ambition. I took an incredible sous vide class with Chef Dishman at Draeger’s Market teaching space next to his restaurant Viognier. It was fantastic.

First of all, Preston’s a joy to be around, and just the right balance of talented and self depricating so none of his hocus pocus techniques seem frivolous or impossible. He’s relaxed, un-pompous, and highly knowledgeable. He cooks for people’s enjoyment – not so much to impress – although the harissa carrots and short ribs he made definitely had that effect. Preston’s sincerity allows for a reciprocal ambiance akin to Southern hospitality. His food isn’t taste bud stretching, or laden with chic offal offerings

Chef Dishman sat down with me for a chat after the class, not even phased by the hours of preceding live cooking and instruction. His energy was impressive.

Preston Dishman

During the course of the evening he broke down the basics of sous vide to a rather knowledgeable, dare I say hoity toity group of diners. (As their questions were uttered regarding specific brands of knives and pans, types of vacuums, sous vides iphone apps and more I could picture them in their kitchens of marble and stainless steel appliances.) The mood was serious but Preston’s jovial light-heartedness warmed even the most thoughtful or austere of participants.

He broke down the basics – how the various types of sous vide machines work, how to properly vacuum the food in plastic without getting moisture into the machine (prop it up on a brick or a couple of cutting boards), why the vacuum technique works and what is does, the concept of retaining maximum flavor via the sous vide method. Then he and his elves made four unique preparations for a well-rounded sous vide meal of polenta and poached egg, short ribs with the aforementioned harissa carrot puree, and a sous vide apple with streusel, caramel, and ice cream. He also snuck in a filet mignon to show off a relatively short-cooking example of sous vide – 20-some minutes vs. 48 hours for the short ribs.

Basically, the kitchen aromas we experience can be more aptly classified as escaped flavor. By cooking at low temperatures for long periods of time, you can retain all this yum, granted the house might not smell as enticing. Through a higher degree of control you can perfect many basic recipes.

This class turned a haute technique into something doable for the home chef, even one on a budget. You can cook many things in a pot of low-simmering water in a bag and get sous vide-ish results, jimmy a sous vide rig, buy the consumer model for $100+, or go all-in and get the pro model that accommodates much larger batches and keeps the water circulating for much more moolah.

My excuse to move toward that direction, the big price tag that is, is that you can fill a number of bags with good – throw the spices and fats right in with veggies or meats, etc. – and the food is effectively shelf stable, or at least fridge stable, for long periods of time. You’d go shopping, prep the bags of various foods and vacuum them, organize them by cooking time and temperature, get a bath going, and adjust the temperature and set a timer, then over a period of a couple days you could effectively have cooked for a month or even two. Did someone say lazy gourmand? Another point Chef Dishman made was that if you were in a situation where 400 perfectly poached eggs were required, sous vide would probably be the only way that they could be procured.

You can taste his sous vide preparations in many of the menu items at his restaurant Viognier in San Mateo. It’s located next to Draeger’s Market, a genuinely fun place to shop. And today Chef Dishman’s new class schedule was posted!

So that takes care of my initial New Year wish to be more out-there in the kitchen. Bring on the beet sorbet, the three-day recipes, and all that deliciously fun craziness. Sous vide is on my horizon, and I can always go back to Draeger’s for a refresher course should I forget any of the magic. I’ll have to get to my other resolutions later…

Afikomen is an open place, full of special things – from prayer shawls to Israeli hip-hop, ancient temple incense and oils to kosher wines, Yiddish primers to hand-crafted jewelry… Nell Mahgel-Friedman, who runs the shop with her husband Rabbi Chaim, says people of many faiths use the tallit, prayer shawls. Their collection rivals any on the West Coast.

Additionally, the blend of 11 herbs used in Solomon’s Temple in the Holy Land is sought after by Jews looking to rekindle their connection with the esoteric and historic aspect of their spirituality and people of any faith who connect with that sacred place. Afikomen carries each individual essential oil as well as the blend of 11: aromatic bark for understanding, balsam representing the crown, costus for wisdom, myrrh for mercy or greatness, cassia for strength, frankencense for knowledge, cinnamon for glory, spikenard for beauty, saffron for eternity, tziporen for foundation, and galbanum representing kingdom. They are each alluring in their own way – and give a fragrant intention to any meditation or practice involving focus on one or more of these areas.

People come here to find wedding and Bar/Bat Mitzvah gifts, to complete their celebrations, to prepare for an upcoming holiday, to read, and to attend community events. It’s also a popular place for those into Middle Eastern music; the CD collection runs the gamut and contains more genres than I thought possible for one area of the world.

I see the personal spiritual path like a flat pattern. Follow me for a moment… When entering an especially decorous fabric store, for instance, it is easy to get overwhelmed and lost by all the beautiful options. It can be hard to make choices that come together into one project, one that’s not completely overdone. Picking a pattern may narrow your scope – you wouldn’t buy magenta tulle if you were planning to make a sturdy rucksack – but it allows more creative freedom within your project, and can inspire appreciation for magenta tulle without needing to buy it then and there. If my analogy serves, the many spiritual paths can help direct human progress of the more subtle, internal type. Afikomen supports this searching for anyone interested in aspects of Judaism, whether it is meditation techniques, children’s stories, source texts, mourning resources, or LGBT perspectives. You can also come here with strictly cultural purpose.

Lighting the first Chanukah candle tonight was a new experience thanks to a recent find here: oil-burning cups with floating wicks for my menorah. The celebration of lights isn’t quite as glorious when my candles burn away quickly, so I was happy to find a safe, easy, and affordable way to transform my favorite menorah into one that burns local olive oil, incidentally a very clean-burning oil.

There are plenty of other goodies stocked for this 8-night celebration. The selection of menorahs is almost museum-like, including some modern brushed aluminum styles from Israel as well as fair trade South African ones made from repurposed soda cans.

Join Afikomen’s Chanukah festivities on Sunday from 11a to 5p for a free party, with kosher Chinese food and latkas available and live music from Octopretzel (children’s concert), Queen Makedah Zion Roots Reggae, and Middle Eastern Grooves with a public menorah lighting at 4:30.

Chaim and Nell offered this favorite recipe, one they love sharing with friends and family during this time of year, adapted from the book Spice and Spirit: The Complete Kosher Jewish Cookbook. They eat it with latkas or kugel on festive nights, or alone on busier nights. Salad makes a lovely side. It is easy to prep in the morning and then cook in the oven later, which makes it as easy as it is delicious.

Meat Tzimmes

1 lb. stew meat, cut into 1-inch cubes
1/4 cup olive oil
1 onion, sliced
2 sweet potatoes, peeled and quartered
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
dash nutmeg
1/4 cup water
1/2 lb. prunes (if desired)

Use: 2-quart saucepan, 2-quart casserole. Yields 4 servings.

In a 2-quart saucepan, sear meat in olive oil over medium flame. Add onion slices, then all remaining ingredients except prunes. Cover and simmer 30 minutes. Pour into 2-quart casserole. Add prunes. (At this point you can refridgerate and cook later in the day or on the next day.)

Preheat oven to 350-degrees F.

Place in oven and bake until sweet potatoes become a little crusty and beef is done, about 45 minutes.

More photos, I couldn’t help it:

The Local Butcher Shop recently opened in Berkeley. It is a magnificent place that will do (almost) anything you ask of them. Buy a whole rabbit and half can be butchered into desireable chops and the rest ground. Choose any kind of cut from humanely-raised, fully marbled, never corn-fed beef, lamb, pig and more from within 150 miles of Berkeley and pay one of three prices for front parts, middle, and back. The farms they source from are the same ones from which Chez Panisse and Olivetto procure their meat – just two of  the phenomenal restaurants at which married owners Monica and Aaron Rocchino have worked.

In addition to giving us home cooks access to the best tasting, most thoughtfully raised meats, Local Butcher is a learning experience – a place to discover quail, query about beef plate, try your hand at cooking tongue, or watch the correct way to twine a chicken for roasting. There’s a full fridge of luscious stocks and demiglaces, rendered fats, and soups. You can pick up offal or pigs ears for you or to make into doggie treats – my poodle is forever in adoration.

There is a sandwhich of the the day  - everyone here are more than meat slicers, but experienced chefs. Along the far wall you’ll find apt accoutrements like Rancho Gordo heirloom beans from Sonoma, Marin-grown wheat pasta made in Oakland, raw honey from Napa and other local treats. This is the local butcher, after all.

I’m hoping to snag a chance to sit down with Monica after the Thanksgiving turkey rush is through and post a podcast. (Did I mention, you can order your ideal bird from them in advance?) Until then, I’ll head home and make a roast chicken with one of these prime birds, feet on for extra flavor. Since it is the beginning of pepper season, rather peppercorn season, I thought I’d make a green pepper preparation from some fronds I foraged.

Start by soaking your clay cooker in water for 30 minutes – I use cold water. Rinse the whole, trussed chicken and pat dry. Keep washing your hands and not touching anything with chicken-y hands – you know the drill. Place the chicken in the bottom portion of the cooker with the chicken breasts face down.

Paint on lemon juice, I used Meyers from my garden, and a small amount of salt evenly coating the bird. In a mortar and pestle crush a small handful of green or pink peppercorns, the less you crush the lighter the flavor, don’t pulverize. I use half whole and half crushed, and drape them ontop of the chicken. I had homemade mustard so I put a few smears of that on top too. You could easily skip this, or add a bit of melted butter, but I keep it simple. My general philosophy is to use what I have rather than go way out of my way for some specific ingredient that could be swapped or skipped.

Cover the chicken and place in a cold oven. Turn to 400-degrees F and roast for 45 minutes. I had a four and a half pound bird so it took this long – if you were using a smaller bird you’d only need 30 minutes.

Pull it out of the oven and remove the top of the cooker. In a bowl, mix 1/2 cup citrus juice – orange or grapefruit, I used grapefruit since I had it on hand – and 1/4 cup soy sauce and 1/4 cup honey or jam. Mix to combine, then paint on with a pastry brush as evenly as possible, getting all the nooks and crannies. Place back in oven and cook another 30 minutes or until the house smells amazing and the skin is crispy brown.

I love second joints, so I carved it up and served with simple sauteed summer squash – the last from my sad vines – dashed with a pinch of salt and a pinch of Hungarian paprika, and a simple salad from what was in the garden… mache and cherry tomatoes with a sprinkle of parsley and balsamic.

The leftovers were my sandwich today – for sliced bread I love Ezekiel bread, with a healthy smear of mayo, some pickled onions I made last month, and more of those tomatoes. Tomorrow I’ll make stock for some roast-y soup – probably incorporating the pumpkins and squash we’ve collected from Halloween. Ah, the glory of a good roast chicken. This one was especially good because I started with such a perfect bird. Thanks Local Butcher – you know I’ll be back for seconds, and thirds…

But, quark is just that – a multi-pupose concoction make of cow’s milk that bridges perfectly between the tangy and the rich. It is slightly more dense than sour cream, not as solid as cream cheese, and has the health benefits of live cultures, similar to yogurt. It’s much more widely eaten in Europe, but I’m happy to report that there’s a local producer in the northern Bay Area.

Spring Hill Dairy’s Petaluma Creamery is a fun place to visit. Just on the outskirts of old town Petaluma – once known as the town of chickens because of the many egg farms – this business benefits from the surrounding land being protected from development, either left as open space or designated as farm land. Cows get a different snack in each season – mustard flowers in the spring, switch grasses in the summer, and a melange of wild radish greens and things in the fall.

The milk comes from those “happy cows” that lazily munch the day away, dotting the rolling pastures. Once the milk arrives at the factory, you can see it transformed into several types of cheeses and quark on the public tours, run regularly (call ahead to sign up). Across the street you can sample all of the products, including the array of quarks – plain, or flavored with lemon or garlic or other spices. The vanilla or lemon are luscious slathered on toasted challah or a baguette, topped with a little drizzle of raw honey.

After walking around the historic down town area, and my prerequisite stop into Baker Creek Seed Bank (that’s actually housed in an old bank building!), I am always drawn to the creamery before departing Petaluma. Spring Hill’s bright yellow butter is also legendary…

Petaluma Creamery

Dutsi the research poodle loves walking the Petaluma waterfront

Inside Baker Creek Seed Bank

On one recent trip I brought home a couple containers of plain quark. It was a week filled with memories of a recently-lost loved one. A loved one who taught me most of what I know about baking. What better way to celebrate her than to make her famed sour cream coffee cake, (of course modifying with delicious, local ingredients)? I recommend making this to share with friends and family. The leftovers are amazing in this bread pudding.

Quarky Coffee Cake with Streusel

Quark substitutes nicely for the 1:1 in this recipe, so use 1 cup of it here in place of the 1 cup sour cream. I used chopped walnuts since California grows 90% of America’s walnuts, so we’re lucky to have tasty fresh ones. Hazelnuts are also a great choice, those are more local to Washington and Oregon.

The streusel is as follows: 1/2 c. brown sugar, 2 tsp. cinnamon, 1/2 c. chopped nuts, 2 Tb. flour, and 2 Tb. unsalted butter. (I make a double recipe of streusel when I want extra panache.) Mix dry ingredients, then add room temp. butter until resembles crumbs. Layer in tube pan as recipe below indicates. I don’t know why she didn’t write it here, but my dearest Barbara usually added lemon zest or extract, so I did the same, incorporating with the wet ingredients.

Not knowing about my present cake situation, a friend dropped by yesterday with one of my favorite sweet treats – handmade Argentine-style gelato from Lush. She called a few hours before she came, so I had time to drum up something with my left over sour cream coffee cake, (recipe to follow in a coming post  here) I had a couple other ingredients on hand like some “rhubarb butterscotch” and an early bounty of Meyer lemons from our tree. I heard a chant in my head: “bread pudding, bread pudding bread pudding!”

This friend and I must be more synched up than ever – she brought Lush’s divine cardamom gelato. The lemon zest, creamy rhubarb, cinnamon-y streusel (from the cake), and her cardamom addition were a captivating flavor combination.

This isn’t the first time something from Lush has inspired a meal (ahem, dessert). Although the daily choices are ever-changing, I’ve created chilled melon soup just for a scoop of Lush’s fresh basil gelato to bedazzle it, and added a scoop of black and tan – lager/waffle chip/dulce de leche – directly into a pint of the Linden Street beer from which it was made. (Who says a root beer float can’t be made from beer?) This bread pudding is probably the best inspiration yet.

Lush’s creator, Federico Murtagh, who came to the Bay Area from his native Argentina, began working in fine dining restaurants creating desserts until other restaurant owners wanted in on his frozen delicacies. He began making gelato for a few other restaurants, then selling at local farmers’ markets, and now has two brick-and-mortar locations, one on Oakland’s Piedmont Avenue and another inside Epicurious Garden in North Berkeley. His counter reads like a who’s who of quality farms and purveyors with McEvoy Ranch, Yerena Farms, Bellwether Farms (makers of my favorite local ricotta), and Marshall’s Honey Farm (in the southern part of Napa) making regular appearances on the flavor labels. New partnerships include Berkeley’s Amphora Olive Oil Works for balsamic vinegar, dry-farmed early girl tomatoes from Dirty Girl Produce and  Fuji apples from Billy Bob Orchards in Watsonville.

Oakland’s Lush is directly across from the Piedmont Theater – a date night no-brainer (they’re open until 10p, 11p on Fridays). If you’re stopping by Lush in Berkeley, head to the back of Epicurious Garden and take your scoop outside onto the zen-like patio shared with Imperial Tea Court. Nudge them to get composting inside Epicurious Garden, pretty please… Another great way to experience Lush is to take one of Lisa’s food tours of the  Gourmet Ghetto (sometimes I lead them). And, say Hi to Alena for me if she’s manning the scoop counter – she’s one of the sweetest parts of the experience.

Now, to the bread pudding.

Rhubarb Bread Pudding

Turn your oven to 350 F. Assemble large crumbles of your stale cake in a baking dish and pour 3 cups of milk over the top. Set aside.

In a mixing bowl combine 3 large or 4 small egg yolks, 1/3 cup sugar, 2 tsp vanilla extract (use one without corn syrup or synthetic vanillin for best results), and 1/4 tsp salt and beat until almost white and quite frothy, about 2 minutes on high (or manually).

You’ll know it is done with the bright yellow from the egg yolks has toned down to a whitish lemon curd color.

Add 1/2 cup rhubarb butterscotch, the juice of half a Meyer lemon (strained – no seeds!) and the zest of the whole lemon. Whip again until combined – most of the red from the rhubarb will fade when fully incorporated.

Pour this mixture over the milky cake and gently fold it in with a rubber spatula until combined but not completely homogenous. Be easy on the cake so it doesn’t crumble completely apart. Place your baking dish into a larger one filled to an inch-height with water, a ban marie.

Move to the oven and bake for 45-55 minutes, depending on the density of your cake. To test, remove the inner baking dish from the oven and giggle it slightly to see if the custard has fully set – if it is still liquid-y it needs more time. The ban marie helps create a gentle environment so even if your’s takes an hour to set it will probably not burn.

Note that doubling the recipe will effect the baking time, but this is one dessert that isn’t too temperamental if you open and close the oven, plus it is easy to tell doneness without practicing the recipes dozens of times. Let cool for 10 minutes and serve in a shallow bowl with a scoop of cardamom gelato and another dollop of the rhubarb butterscotch.

*(This rhubarb butterscotch is handy way to cope with a crazy rhubarb plant like mine that just won’t quit, I mean 12-month harvest, no joke – I frequently get sick of the stuff but not in butterscotch form.)