I am not what you’d call a football type of girl. As a matter of fact, when I was growing up, I made a pact with myself that I would never marry a guy who watched sports on TV. I stuck to my guns, and I couldn’t be happier.
I did grow up in a football, baseball, basketball loving house. I’ll clarify- the male half of the house loved sports. My dad was a huge fan of the Yankees, the Giants, the Warriors, and the 49ers. I think the best thing that ever happened to him (aside from us, his family) was getting to go to the Superbowl to see Joe Montana lead the team to victory against the Cincinnati Bengals.
On the day of the game, we all huddled around the TV at my aunt’s house in Menlo Park and watched intently– just in case we could see my dad. Well, I’m sure some people were actually watching the game, but as far as I was concerned my dad was a bigger hero- a bigger superstar than all of the 49ers put together.
In January of 1982, I’d only been home from France for about a month and I remember my uncle Gordie making barbequed pork butt (which at 9, was the funniest thing ever). It tasted smoky and sweet and totally American.
Years later, we’d attend an annual superbowl party at my friend Julie Walker’s house. I remember spinach dip and popcorn and seven layer dip and … get the recipe
Happy 2013! After a holiday season veritably bursting with love and laughter, I’m welcoming another spin around the sun with open arms. 2012 was a very full year, and it’s hard to believe that it went by so quickly. Though, as I reflect on 2012, it’s hard to imagine that I packed so much into one year.
I spent many of my weekends reigniting my love affair with California. Travelling to visit family in Southern California, spending a few glorious days at Sonoma County wineries, discovering waterfalls in the redwoods, hiking to remote beaches, visiting farms in Sebastapol, Petaluma, Santa Cruz, and Watsonville- these trips all solidified the fact that I am a California girl. As one of my teachers says, “If you were born in the US, you can consider yourself to have hit the karmic lottery. It is extremely unlikely that you will starve to death or have to fight wars on your own soil.” It feels doubly lucky to have been born in California.
This year has also been a year of growth and discovery in the kitchen. I learned to make gravlax and gluten-free puff pastry. I fell in love with my slow cooker and lived grain free and sugar free for a month I had a tomato tart-off with one of my favorite people and conquered my fear of making cheesecake (twice). I can’t wait for the culinary adventures to come.
The 2012 holiday season was truly amazing- … get the recipe
My grandmother was 44 years old when she gave birth to my mother. Her husband was 27. They met in Paris, on a train, after the war. She had been an artist’s model, he’d been a soldier in the French underground.
He spoke to his friend in English, saying “She’s a looker, too bad about her legs” She chuckled, she was famous for her legs. “You speak English.” he said, a little surprised. “I am English.” she replied- for the sake of simplicity.
He introduced himself and began to tell her the story of how he’d been staying in Paris with another English girl and her husband. He mentioned the girl’s name– Gilda. “Gilda,” my grandmother informed him, “is my sister.”
And so it began, a love story (of sorts) that began in Paris in 1946, came through New York ten years later with a child in tow, landed in San Francisco then scooted a few miles south to a sleepy suburb called San Bruno specifically a subdivision called Crestmoor.
Crestmoor with the black and white tiled floors, and the gold flocked wallpaper, with the stone foyer, and my friend, the weepy willow. The little ranch house which was 5831.79 miles from Paris but must have seemed one million miles away to my immigrant family. So much of my early life is tied to that place, the place where my grandmother lived, larger than life, full of warmth and life and laughter. Equal parts well-mannered Brit and fiery Italian/Frenchwoman. She … get the recipe
I’ve been so excited for this day to arrive- for two reasons. Firstly, the amazing ladies over at Love Feast Table invited me to share a cookie recipe for their Holiday Cookie Exchange. I worked on this gluten-free citrus sugar cookie for a couple of weekends, and I really just love it. I want you to have the recipe, and to bake it, and eat it, and share it with friends. Secondly, Love Feast Table sent me the most beautiful recipe journal to give away to one of you!
Just head over to Love Feast Table, check out my cookies (does that sound naughty?) and follow the instructions there to enter the giveaway. Then, come back here and leave a comment. That’s it- simple as pie. Or cookies.
Giveaway ends at 11:59 PM on Friday December 11.
“There.” said my mother, pointing to a small white flower in the overgrown garden of a neighbor. I inhaled deeply, marveling at the scent.
“It smells like onions!”, I exclaimed.
“Taste,” she said, as she plucked off the flower and a bit of the long hollow stem.
“It tastes like onions!”
She bent to pull another from its root to reveal a tiny white onion, dirty, and redolent with the scent of earth.
Maybe I was four, maybe five. My early years with my mother were full of moments like these. In our suburban 1970s neighborhood, just outside of San Francisco, I learned to find edible flowers, which plants we could take cuttings from to grown in our own garden, the difference between sweet peas and shelling peas, and how to identify vegetables – just by their foliage. My favorite? The carrots.
Though my mother made a few attempts at vegetable gardens throughout the years, the best carrots were creek-side at my aunt’s house in Napa. The children gleefully headed from the house and garden up top to the area “down below”- foraging carrots, wild radishes and berries. I was oh-so-careful to determine that the lacy green leaves did, in fact, lead to plump juicy roots and were not that of the deadly hemlock that looked so similar.
Fresh from the earth, these carrots were shorter, and stubbier than those from the grocer. Dunk, dunk, dunk right in the ice cold creek. Eating the skin, the flecks of dirt … get the recipe
Halloween is over, and it’s not Thanksgiving yet, but that does not mean you should forsake the lovely pumpkin! I’ve just completed October Unprocessed. I went pretty hardcore this time- choosing to live a month Grain-Free and Sugar Free. It was awesome, but also hard to see all of those amazing pumpkin dishes that I just couldn’t eat. All over pinterest, twitter, foodgawker. ACK, they were killing me. So I decided to round up 32 of the best unprocessed pumpkin recipes on the web and share them with you.
Breakfast
Pumpkin Spice Waffles- these are even gluten free and vegan! Yay!
Simple Bites strikes again with this fabulous Pumpkin Spice Granola
Mmm this just sounds perfect on a cold morning Apple Cinnamon Pumpkin Oatmeal
Appetizers and Snacks
Roasted pumpkin seed spread from Gluten Free Girl- this s not your mama’s hummus. (V, GF, GR F)
Jerry James Stone’s Goat Cheese and Pumpkin Fondue is the ooey gooey stuff that makes a girl go crazy.
Pumpkin Chips deep fried and gorgeously golden. These chips come from Southern Living Magazine.
Baked Butternut Squash Chips I know these aren’t pumpkin, but I am not the biggest fan of frying, and butternut squash is close enough! Love this idea from Running to the Kitchen!
Fat Free Vegan offers up this awesome looking Pumpkin and Black Bean Casserole plus it has nutritional yeast and tahini- two of my favorite flavors! (GF, V)
Pumpkin and Feta Muffins Note, I made … get the recipe
Let’s just start this post with a series of thank yous. To whoever said “breakfast is the most important meal of the day”, thank you. To whoever came up with the idea of breakfast, in the first place, thank you, and to the person or persons who invented huevos rancheros, thank you, muchos gracias, and thank you again. I love breakfast. I love it a lot. Most of all I love eggs, fresh from the farm, or the ranch if you will.
Joshua and I have a secret breakfast place, not too far from our house. We’ve shared this place with only a few people- the type of people who are not going to tell the entire city. You see San Francisco breakfast places are veritably overrun and nearly impossible to get into on a Saturday or Sunday. This place we love has the most outstanding huevos rancheros, and I always get them when I go there. Since October #unprocessed began, I’ve been grain-free and, I’ve not been able to fully enjoy these magnificent huevos (teehee, that sounds so naughty).
I decided I’d create my own huevos rancheros with grain-free tortillas. Totally inspired by those at our favorite spot. Socca is a garbanzo flour crepe which comes from Nice in the south of France. Shauna, of Gluten Free Girl, reminded me of Socca, when we were eating gorgeous fluffy garbanzo pitas at another of my favorite restaurants, Saha. I’ve come to love garbanzo flour (or bessan) over the … get the recipe
It’s hard to believe we’re nearly half way through October, and naturally that means I’ve been living totally unprocessed! This year, I’ve even gone grain free and sugar free. This is the second year I’ve done the logo for the ambitious project the Andrew of Eating Rules undertakes each October.
If you haven’t taken the pledge, it’s not too late to try things like ditching white flour, white sugar, preservatives, food coloring, and soy lecithin in your chocolate. Last year, Irvin of Eat the Love, and I discovered that many raspberry-flavored foods use beaver anal glands to enhance raspberry flavor. The worst part, since beaver butts are natural, this can be labeled as a natural flavor. Enjoy that raspberry sorbet, ladies and gents.
In addition to sharing my design skills, this is also my second time contributing as an author. Today, my post for vegan cashew cream cheese is live on Eating Rules. Check it out. I’ve declared my love for soaked raw cashews before on this blog in my vegan cashew strawberry shake, but my cashew cream cheese is totally famous around my office. Check it out on Andrew’s site. And come back next week for an unprocessed grain free round up!
X
Sabrina
