Dia de los Muertos

Day of the dead…is really a day for the living, those here on Earth, grieving someone we loved.  It is a celebration begun over 3000 years ago by indigenous peoples of Mexico to demystify death.  The tradition is to build an altar to entice the dead to visit one day a year.  

I was intrigued by the concept as I have patiently waited seven years for my beloved Grandma to return to me in my dreams.  She is in my waking conscious and I invite her to my dreams but she doesn’t come.  I feel her spirit all around me and she is never far from my mind or my heart.

When I started reading about Dia de los Muertos, I decided to build an altar.  I used a brass tinderbox I turned upside down and opened up.  I filled it according to the traditions and included ofrendas, offerings.  I placed a small framed portrait of her, pictures of her with my kids when they were little, a diamond ring she gave me, a cranberry cordial glass, a handwritten note from her and these traditional ingredients for a Dia de los Muertos altar:

Candles – to light her way

Marigolds – the scent attracts the dead.  Mine in the yard had already bloomed but I was surprised that during this week Trader Joe’s had bouquets of them.

Salt – representing life.  I put it in a crystal saltcellar she gave me.

Sugar pumpkin – tradition is a sugar skull but I had a sugar pumpkin instead.  I added a small painted ceramic skull.

Pan de los Muertos – I baked my own and crafted it with bones on the top

Skeleton – representing the dead

Christmas Ornament – The holiday that was special with her.  We shared the joy of decorations, baking and gift giving. 

I went to bed hopeful.  She didn’t come.  It made me sad and disappointed.  I started to second-guess my ofrendas thinking I should have left a glass of champagne for her.  She was giggly when she drank.  She told a story how when she sailed to Hawaii she became so seasick all she could keep down was crackers and champagne.

Hope is a strong emotion and I have not lost it because of this.  I will try again next year.  I enjoyed looking at the altar and adding to it.

I told my mom about the altar and that she didn’t come.  She very calmly said, “Maybe you have to be Catholic.”  I am not so I will cling to the historical indigenous people’s belief before the Catholics came in and changed the date to the day after Halloween, All Saints Day.  

I see my Grandma in my world.  I see her in a rose, the flight of a hummingbird and when I smell coffee brewing in the morning.  I can still feel her hugs and hear her laughter.  Until next year, rest in peace my dear Grandma.

Below is a link to the site with the bread recipe I followed.  I was skeptical as a baker when I read you do not proof the yeast but add all the ingredients.  It was perfect.  I made five six-inch loaves, decorated with bones and glazed with orange.

http://www.celebrate-day-of-the-dead.com/  Celebrate-day-of-the-dead.com

17 months and 59 years later

It has been 17 months between blogs and I have a lot to say. No excuses for not writing. I miss it more than my two followers did! So, I am back. I will catch you up, post a new recipe and write more often.
I had a great run in 2013, my 6th year competing at the California State Fair. Competing is not for the faint of heart and I took my share of criticism from the judges. I learn from it and make changes to entries and compositions. I took 1st place in the Fleischmann's Yeast Best Baking Contest for my Mom's Sweet Cardamom Bread and 3rd place in the Ghirardelli Chocolate Championship for my Après Dinner Mints. I had my 15 minutes of fame on the local channels, Sacramento Bee and at work! It was a Splendid experience, a shameless plug for the clothes I wore on camera. 

In November, I wrote my first book titled for now, This Bird Does, a memoir about growing up with grandparents, divorce, love, death, and God.  Woven throughout the narrative is the connection I have with food. I signed up for Nanowrimo at the suggestion of a friend who knew how much I love to write. The contest is a challenge to write 50,000 words in the month of November. The prize is finishing. It wasn't as hard as I imagined because I wrote about my life and I am the expert. It was fun and I will do it again. Now I am editing and rewriting before I even consider publishing it myself. It gave me a huge sense of accomplishment and I felt the encouragement from friends and family that I will always remember. 

I signed up for Twitter, I tweet, and I follow and I am followed.  I don't do Facebook or instagram.  I added my twitter feed at the top so you can read my tweets or follow if you would like. The challenge of twitter is to get your message across in only 140 characters. I'm learning and enjoying following.

    Pyrex bowls, circa 1954

 I received this email from a dear friend last summer:

 Move over Paula Deen! (love her, by the way)
OK, first I noticed the green Pyrex bowl - the bread bowl as my mom called it.
"Heads up", I said. "This lady is the real thing. She has my mom's green bowl. Something good is coming from this lady."
AND IT WAS YOU. ON LIVE TV!!!!! And, on your BIRTHDAY!!!
What a way to celebrate! You go girl!
Congrats on your First Prize win. Couldn't be happier for you. I hope all of your family and friends saw you Saturday am. A moment that I will never forget.........love u

The green bowl. I decided to take it on TV because I knew it would show up well on camera. It came from the stacked primary colors Pyrex set my mom received as a wedding present in 1954. When she downsized to move, she gave them to me. The only problem was there were only three; yellow meant potato salad growing up, green; I know now as my friend's mother's bread bowl and blue the best cereal bowl ever.
But no red bowl. Broken years ago.

At work a month ago, at a potluck, there was the red bowl sitting on the conference room table filled with veggie straws. I tried to hold back my excitement. I couldn't stop looking at it. I picked it up and held it thinking what it would mean to complete the set. I offered the owner $20 on the spot. I knew they existed on EBay but mostly in sets. I expected to find the red one at a yard sale or thrift store. He said he had to check with his wife. The next day he brought it in and gave it to me, refusing money for it.  I couldn't believe it!  An act of kindness that I will never forget. Completed set 59 years later.

I promised a recipe. This is my new favorite. I found a recipe for green tea cured salmon. I made it and liked it. My BFWF, Best Friend at Whole Foods, Drew, sent me some LapSang souchong tea for Christmas.  It is black tea smoked over a pine fire.  I thought if I used it, the salmon would taste smoked and it does.  It is incredibly easy, looks beautiful and tastes amazing. I reciprocated by sending him my homemade mulberry leaf tea, a natural zombie repellent.  I read it on the internet so it must be true.  

  

Smoked Tea Cured Salmon

One salmon fillet (I use wild caught from WF, about pound)

½ cup kosher salt

½ cup LapSang souchong tea

½ cup organic brown sugar

Mix the salt, tea and sugar together.  I use a Pyrex dish, 9 x 11, place plastic wrap on the bottom, enough so you can wrap the fish up. Place the fish skin side down on the plastic wrap and cover with mixture so that no fish is exposed.  Wrap it up and place a heavy object on top to flatten.  I use a cast iron Dutch oven.  Put it in the refrigerator for 48 hours.  Remove from dish and plastic wrap.  Rinse under water to remove the salt, tea and sugar.  Dry with paper towels and slice thin.  I don’t cut all the way to the skin.  Serve with capers, crème fraiche and water crackers.   

Twice as Thankful

Two Thanksgiving dinners cooked in three days, one here in Northern California and one in Southern California.  Can you say food coma?  What happened to my Weight Watchers plan?  Pumpkin pie for breakfast, really?

Here is the tally for the two meals:

44 lbs of turkey, 7 lbs of ham, 36 rolls, 4 lbs of sausage, 10 cups of rice, 16 lbs of sweet and russet potatoes, 2 pkgs of marshmallows, 2 quarts of gravy, 6 pies; 4 pumpkin, one pecan and one sweet potato. Plus all the assorted accompaniments.

Thankfully, we left half of one meal in Southern California.  But here in the North, there are looming leftovers. 

 

This Thanksgiving there were changes. I made my first ham ever and with a little help with the glaze, it was delicious.  I made port cranberry sauce that brightened up the meal and got rave reviews. I am most thankful that I can cook a meal and share it with the people I love.  

Ho’omaika’i no ka’u ohana

 

The translation from Hawaiian is "grateful for my family".  My son gave me this on a note last night after dinner.  It prompted me to write this entry today.  I get so busy with life that I forget to stop in the moment and reflect on what matters. Family and love matter.

Thanksgiving. I remember those who are no longer with me and with whom I have wonderful memories of Thanksgivings. Shasta Lake with my Papa and Grandma. The year my Mom picked up a hitchhiker and brought him home for dinner because he was not going to make it to his home in time. Learning to BBQ a turkey from my Mother-in-Law as I have done for the past 36 years.  I miss my Mom’s smoked oyster stuffing and her plate of pickles, olives, wheat thins and more smoked oysters.  The yeasty rolls my Grandma in Shasta made. The pies GG made. The time we took her pecan pie and played Frisbee with it in the front yard because it was so hard!  The year we had three turkeys; smoked, fried and barbecued. The huge family Thanksgivings at GG's with 20-30 family and friends. Now, without her, we all celebrate the holidays separately.   

We let go of  the one thing that kept my GG alive 93 years, family gatherings.   

It is time for new traditions like ham, traveling between North and South and smaller tables.  I will welcome the day when my family grows and the Thanksgiving table gets bigger. I already miss the laughter and the company we shared this year. I count my blessings tonight by remembering my Thanksgivings past and look forward to my Thanksgivings to come.

Remembering Dillon

Black dog.  He had many names, Dillon the Villain, Dillon the tomato-stealing dog, Bud.  He was the best dog ever.  Even that isn’t enough.  He was ours for nine years.  Black as the night we lost him in.  The darkest evening of the year, December 21, 2011.  Six months later, we are still grieving. 

The tears flow easily.  Why did he run and not come back?  What lured him out onto a busy street?  He never wandered.  Who hit him and left him lying there?  It only took a few minutes for him to run off and never come back.

It was after midnight when I opened the door and there was his master, telling me the story, I heard the words, and wondered how we would get through this.  Him especially.  They were close this master and dog.  Shock set in.  The next day and everyday since, I feel the sting of tears.  I forget he’s gone and open the door expecting to see him.  When I see another black lab, I feel the pain of loss.  When I look into his master’s eyes and see the sadness still, I want to cry. 

A dog comes into your life and never ever leaves.  They become a part of you and your family.  We’ve had our share through the years.  Losing each one seemed harder.  We swore we would never love an animal so much that it hurts like this.  But we did.

I want to rush out and replace him.  His master doesn’t.  But his heart does.  Because all a dog can do is, love you back.  Who doesn’t need more love in their life? 

There will be another dog.  However, there will never be another big black, birdy, tomato stealing, biscuit begging, boat fishing, duck hunting, truck riding, and best friend like Dillon.  He was one of a kind.

Coffee and Company

Coffee.  My way.  Hot, strong brew, dark, served with half and half, raw sugar in a mug.

What makes a great cup of coffee is the company.  I have many combinations that make up my favorite cups of coffee.  Sharing coffee with someone or savoring one alone are two of my most loved experiences.  Coffee and company. 

It’s 5:30 am on a Saturday morning.  I have had two cups, my limit.  Manna, nirvana and comfort for my soul.

I have shared thousands of cups of coffee with people I love.  The act of sitting down, looking eye-to-eye, sipping hot soothing liquid while speaking life’s secrets, hopes and desires is how I like my coffee.

Here are some of my favorite cups of coffee

My Mother-in-law’s coffee

My Mother’s coffee

Starbuck’s

Café Luxxe Café Nico

Bayside Church Granite Bay

Duncans Mills Award Winning Iced Coffee

Java City Mocha

Bella Bru Special

Kitchen Beautician Percolated Coffee

Blackwater Chocolate Cappuccino

My Grandma’s coffee

My Mother-in-law poured hers into a saucer to cool.  She drank from a cup with a saucer.  Sometimes instead of cream and sugar, she would put a spoonful of vanilla ice cream in.  I remember the cream and sugar set she used.  Sitting at the padded dining room table, looking out onto her lush landscape she tended, listening to stories of growing up in Hawaii. Coffee after one of her delicious meals.  Family. Laughing.  Singing.  I miss her.

My mother’s coffee.  Strong and hot. Always paper filtered Melitta style, made to order with freshly ground beans.  Usually French roast.  The only downfall was her skim milk.  The conversation centered on what books we had read, movies, music.  Since she moved out of state, I miss her and her coffee. 

Starbuck’s. Coffee with my girls.  Lattes, mochas, grande or venti.  On the go. When they built the first Starbuck’s in Sacramento, Town and Country Village, I remember thinking this would be our place.  And it was. Is. My fondest Starbuck’s memories?  Running through the streets of Nassau headed to Starbuck’s.  Going through the drive through on trips to the beach.  My best friend calling me every year when she has her first pumpkin spice latte.  I remember particularly the first day both of her boys were in school.  She called me from Starbuck’s.  Alone.  Joy.  I took her two boys when they were younger to the drive-through and bought cups of whipped cream with spoons.  Peace in the mini-van.

Café Luxxe in Santa Monica, totally trendy and decadent.  My new favorite cup is a Café Nico, a shot of espresso infused with candied orange and cinnamon. Coffee as an art.  The rosetta, milk foam art. Outrageously expensive but a truly artful cup.  You have to have it once.  I wish I had one right now!

Coffee at Bayside Granite Bay.  Hot and strong.  Starbuck’s brew.  A fitting prelude to the grace I leave with every Sunday. 

Iced coffee.  My Mom always drank iced coffee when I was growing up.  The best iced coffee is at Gold Coast Coffee in Duncans Mills.  Award winning.  They take a tall glass and put whipped cream and raw sugar in the bottom, spreading some up the side of the glass, add ice, pour over hot espresso then fill with half-and-half. 

It is so good.  Perfect.  I remember being there, reaching into a basket thinking it was sugar, and it was condoms.  I laughed all the way to Guerneville.

The first espresso coffee I ever bought came from Java City at 18^th and Capitol.  Driving downtown for mochas.  The old silver van full of kids, others and mine.  The bump on 16^th going out of town.  Summer nights.  The laughter.

With the “Ladies”, we used to go for coffee after dinner.  We tried to stay out long enough for the kids to be in bed by the time we got home.  Though that often meant, “paying the babysitter”.  One night at Bella Bru, someone ordered the Bella Bru Special made with chocolate milk, almond syrup, slivered almonds on top, whipped cream and served in a giant blue coffee cup with a saucer.  I remember how we laughed at the presentation!  It was the largest cup of coffee we had ever seen!  Now, we are home early and most of us can’t drink caffeinated coffee after noon!  But we still laugh when we are together.

I have a friend who calls herself the “Kitchen Beautician”.  She gives perms, dyes and cuts hair at her kitchen table.  She makes coffee in an electric percolator.  You hear it first, and then smell the coffee.  Sitting there with a towel wrapped around your neck, sipping hot coffee and the entertainment, the comedy, the stories, and the laughter.  She is the funniest woman I know and she truly missed her calling when she didn’t try standup comedy.  She is a great friend and all of us who know her count ourselves the lucky ones.  I love you Betty!

The chocolate cappuccino at Blackwater Coffee on Watt Avenue.  Small but so powerful.  Taking one to Mrs. Jenkins at Del Paso Manor was an excuse for me to stop and get one myself.  So chocolate and rich.

Last but not least, my Grandma’s coffee.  Weak, bland, lukewarm.  Flavored water really.  She never liked my coffee nor I hers.  But I drank it because I wanted to be at her kitchen table, by the pool, on the porch, anywhere, with her.  It was never about the coffee for me.  It was always about her.  She was a coffee hoarder too.  She always had extra cans on her shelf.  I used to tease her about her anticipation of a coffee shortage but I appreciated she always bought extra.  She never wanted to run out. Coffee was important to her.  No matter what time of day, she would offer you coffee with a piece of pie, cake, a donut, cookies.  Never just coffee.  I miss coffee with her the most.

Downtown – K St. for Pizza and a Dive

 

            We headed downtown minus two this month to Pizza Rock and Dive Bar.  They sit next door to each other on the K Street Mall.  Everyone and their brother has thrown money at the mall since they cemented the street and stopped cruising in the 70's.  It has never thrived and the attempts to clean it up are not usually successful.  I pass these places twice a day on my light rail commute.  In the morning, they are being power washed to remove the night.  In the evening, couples sit outside and wish they weren’t so close to the sidewalk, light rail and street people.  It doesn’t seem to be a comfortable patio dining experience. 

            How trendy is a bar where a Mermaid swims in a giant aquarium, blowing kisses to the 20-30 something guys holding up their IPhones to take her picture?  I loved it!  Really.  I liked the cave like atmosphere mixed with the Disneyesque background including a pirate’s chest and real tropical fish.  It all works when you are looking in a giant aquarium. The building is long and narrow, dark and cool, divided into three areas; an entry with comfy casual seating, the bar and aquarium with mirrors so you have a view of the swim show no matter where you sit, and the back area where you can plug in your IPod and play your tunes.  It was loud, but good music.

            We ordered cocktails, served with goldfish crackers, cute touch.  We asked when the Mermaid would make an appearance and were told that there is no set schedule to keep it spontaneous.  Then, she appeared.  Haltingly pretty with a killer body. It was hard not to think that she needed a good meal, as her ribs were visible.  She swam, like a Mermaid, turning and waving to the crowd.  Smiling.  In a purple Mermaid costume. It was dramatic and whimsical all at once.  I liked it a lot.  I would certainly go back for the show.   There is something so magical about it.  Remember, I cry at Hallmark commercials. 

            We left and went next door for pizza.  Louder music there.  It was crowded but we were seated quickly.  We had another Mayor sighting.  We laughed that he was following us around town.  He came in with an entourage and was seated at a large table in the middle of the restaurant.  He left before we did.

            With a perfect view of the pizza oven, a Cirigliano imported from Italy, we were primed for pizza.  The pizza oven fire can be seen from outside on the patio.  Inside, the truck hanging out of the wall is impressive.  Also, note the mural by Carlos Lopez on the ceiling.  Pretty cool.  Not a dark restaurant but a bright, lively, loud fun place. I really like the liveliness of this place although it makes conversation a challenge.

            The service, not so great.  One of us ordered a thin crust and got a thick crust and the waiter discouraged her from re-ordering because it would take too long.  To me, that was his problem not hers.  He should have fixed it.  I had the Margherita, which won Tony Gemignani the Pizza World Cup in Italy in 2007.  He won on 6-13-07.  They have a rule that they only make 73 per day using the formula.  6 + 1 = 7 and kept the 3 for 73.  New math.  I don’t care how they figure it, the pizza was so good.  Just San Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella, basil, evoo and sea salt.  So simple, pure and delish.  I would go back and try some of the others.  We all liked the pizza. And the place.  And the Mermaid.

Church Lady

             Yesterday,  I became a Church Lady, the kind that bakes and carries her goods to people who are sick or shut in. But let me give you some background before you think I have really lost it for good.

            I go to church on Sunday, alone.  Not a conventional church, but one for people who don’t like church.  I take from it what I need for the week.  I sit in the bleachers with a few hundred other people, all kinds of people.  Dressed in jeans, shorts, sundresses, flip-flops in casual California beach style.  I go to Bayside of Granite Bay and it has been church to me for the past five years.  It feeds me and lifts me up when I need it the most.  The music rocks me and reminds me that I am alive and that Jesus is too.  I like the anonymity of worshiping with hundreds of people.  It just fits.

            I got up Sunday morning, early.  I can’t help my internal alarm clock. Made coffee, read the paper and baked coffee cakes.   I planned to visit a friend, recently diagnosed with breast cancer and decided to take something baked with me, hence the Church Lady imagery.   I pulled out a package of Bisquick and made coffee cake.  I think this is one of the first recipes I ever made.  I made two, one for home and one to go.

            My friend was happy to see me and I her.  We worked together 8 years ago keeping in touch sporadically through the years. She knows my husband and knew my Grandma.  She is a beautiful woman, inside and out, a supportive wife and loving mother and grandmother.  And she is fun.  One of our most memorable experiences together was a Jimmy Buffett Concert in Mountain View where we wore Bikini T-Shirts that she sewed belly button rings on.  What a blast that entire day and night was! I will never forget sitting in the car in the venue parking lot, eating our Togo’s sandwiches before walking around, when a young man approached the car wearing a grass skirt and a coconut bikini top, carrying an ice chest and a sign that said, “Beer for Boobs”.  His gig was, show me your boobs, take a picture, and you get a beer, Corona.  We just laughed him off but she called her husband and told him we weren’t even out of the car and someone wanted to see our breasts!  Good times. 

            Now she has already had one surgery and is going to have another.  She is dealing with it just the way I knew she would, with humor and the support of her loving husband, family and friends.  We drank tea, ate coffee cake, told stories and listened with our hearts.  She radiated beauty as she sat on the couch telling me about her cancer.  I thought of all the women I know and have met who have battled and won this fight.  My mother of course and just recently the young mothers’ I met fundraising for Komen Race for the Cure.  I told my friend about the 100-year-old woman, a 20-year breast cancer survivor who spoke at the Survivor Ceremony at the Race.  She had some great advice on how to live.  I can’t remember exactly to quote her but I recall she said to use olive oil when you cook.  Have a drink, but not too much.  Eat your vegetables.  Surround yourself with people you love.

Good advice for all of us.

            I left there glad that I had made the trip and happy to see that she is in survivor mode and supported by people who love and care about her.  She did share with me that her mother used to make this coffee cake without the streusel, slice it horizontally, fill it with strawberries and top it with whipped cream.  Sounds yummy.  I wonder if I have two cups left…

Bisquick Coffee Cake - Taken from the back of the box

Cinnamon Struesel

1/3 cup Original Bisquick® mix

1/3 cup packed brown sugar

½ teaspoon firm butter

Coffee Cake

2 cups Original Bisquick® mix

2/3 cup milk or water

2 tablespoons sugar

1 egg

1. Heat oven to 375°F. Grease 9-inch round pan. In small bowl, stir streusel ingredients until crumbly; set aside.
2. In medium bowl, mix coffee cake ingredients until blended. Spread in pan. Sprinkle with streusel.
3. Bake 18 to 22 minutes or until golden brown.

 Did you know that Bisquick has been around since 1931?