a fennel morning

I love summer.Today is a beautiful California summer day.I breathe in the soft air, sweetened by the fennels flowers all around.
I indulge in the caress of the sun on my bare arms as I pedal down the street.I remember the indolence of long summers past, and I want to lie again on those scratchy blankets on the grass, nose in the insect world, green, green all around,lost in a sensation of blissfull happiness.
I have always loved the taste of anis.in anything.licorice of course, but also in the little white sugar candies with the fennel seed in the center, and tarragon which is a quintessential French herb, used discretly but sublimely with cucumber, in a refreshing salad,or in a creamy sauce adorning a baked chicken.And then there is fennel.also part of the French repertoire, used mostly as a bed for baked fish, but also in a crunchy sweet salad, where it can be mixed with cherry tomatoes,chickpeas,garlic,cucumber ,red onion and a cube of feta..Such a good summer day lunch at my house.....

composition in green and white

dinner with C. always a blast of heart, soul and a little green.
After pipping peanut butter in perfect dollops in celery boats,my bags caught my roving eyes.

cesar numero deux

Here in Francophone Berkeley, we already have a Panisse, a Fanny and a Cesar. Names plucked from the delicious movies by French director Pagnol who with simple stories told the emotional lives of these characters in the Provence of the 30's. After the great success of The first Cesar, another, bigger one opened in Oakland a year ago. Sad to say, but we only managed to pay it a visit last night.Snatching the last table at 7 on a Friday was a coup, the space was filled to the brim with happy customers ,their voices resonating loudly over the Latin beat. wood tables set simply with a silverware bucket, a free dish of marinated olives arrived quickly.They were herby,with a touch of fire, soaking the spicy olive oil.:perfect ! rosé for me,cosmo for him.We ordered from the tapas menu and gave them all a 10. The food is lusty to the point of embarrassement.The flavors are intense, the food is rich and moist, my lips were burning from the pimented tomato sauce and the garlic aioli that went with the thick fries, but were cooled down, and refreshed by the orange and parsley piccata that pooled around the O of baby calamari.The salt cod and potato cazuela didn't disappoint: bubbling hot, garlicky and smooth. Better than Cesar 1 ! Another shock to the senses was the perilous pairing of escarole( divinely and robustly dressed) with ambrosia melons and smoked trout....no worry, it was truly phenomenal. Can I mention dessert ? we were in moaning zone with the Cesar sundae: dark and deep chocolate cinnamon ice cream, chocolate sauce with almonds and speared by two home made churros ( I could eat those all day: crunchy and sugared, with a soft center).
This Sunday, they are celebrating their 1st anniversary.Shall we go to the paella on the patio in the afternoon 0r the flamenco performance at night? I could easily go to both. Such fun. and so satisfying !

I feel gratitude

Dear M.C Paisley,
It was a pleasure spending some time with you. Of course, you made me laugh, but you also felt free enough to share some stories of youth madness, car accidents photos, make up gone wild etc... You chose Gratitude for lunch. I like the vibes, and the wild disco singing and dancing for birthday deserts, the food is tasty, but somehow does a weird number on my stomach.Licorice to the rescue on that one.....Also,for the prices, the presentation lacks a certain.....style.But overall, the experience was a delight, I feel very grateful, indeed.

2 ou 3 choses que je sais d'elle

I am appropriating a jean Luc Godard title which says" 2 or 3 things that I know about her "to talk about my relationship to Chicago. I just came back from a job with Jeff K and the city lingers.As it turns out, my paternal grandmother was born in Chicago, and after a golden childhood there, she ended up after some fortune turn- about of her father, in Geneva, Switzerland, with mother and siblings, minus father and brother who both remained in the States. There, she went to art school ( a beautiful encrusted box is what's left of that time) and met my grandfather who happened to be the son of the school director, himself a painter.They married, and during her pregnancy with my father,caught the spanish flu and died 2 weeks after giving birth, at 24 years old. I was named after her, and thought that I, too would not make it after that tender age. But, a thread was woven between me and America. As a very young child, I was told in later years by a friend's mother, I would say that I was going to live in America. As a naive and ignorant teen, I would haunt the American Center in Paris ( a cultural and propaganda center....) which stood , of all places , in the Saint Germain neighborhood, and watch, mesmerized, big combines raping the never ending plains of the Mid West.So, being in Chicago, my heart was feeling the warm air of her summers long past,my feet were touching the pavements long walked. I had, I thought, a feeble but enduring connection with Chicago.

trip tik

california summer

Here in San Francisco, we play catch with the sun in the summertime.Which is something totally surprising for most europeans when I tell them to bring warm jackets and drizzle gear .But then, on day,you need to see the ocean at all cost. You will brave whatever weather you will find.The fog will linger somewhere and you hope that it will not be where you want to go. So you pack up towels, bathing suits ( to swim in the warmed up little bay up North),extra warm coats and scarfs. You pick up a spicy tortilla soup at the upscale tacqueria on the way out of town,licorice bar in tow just in case , and soon you curve around redwoods and golden hills.The little beach you stop at has dry mussels shells,you toes dig in the coarse sand with absolute delight. You go for a quick invigorating swim, your face splashed by the- it has been so long you practically had forgotten- salty water, you kick, your eyes up to the sky,free.

alfresco

Alfresco means " in the fresh air " which is something I had always craved.Significant will sigh when I open windows in the foggy Bay Area mist, just for a bit of brrezy oxygen wafting through my narrow nostrils.... Back then, after months of crampy meals in a postage stamp parisian kitchen, I was in heaven, come summer, when we would retreat to our mountain abode and I would die of pleasure when we would move the big wood table to the side of the house facing sunset and have dinner,surrounded by the day's end glow, the sun diving behind the mounts and lake, eat, laugh and talk, when darkness and bats would lure us back in finally....So here I am,loving our week end meals in the back yard. Nature surrounds,hummingbirds feast on flowers,cats lounge dipping the tip of their paws in the sun, and my magic fruits grow to absolute perfection.

sunset

work,work, work, and hardly any play. Today, I used these multicolored carrots in a job, and I had to bring them home to see them again. The sunset sky had a carroty glow, it was time to dive these little dippers into a tumultuous sea of hummus and call it a day.

thyme will tell

As a poor Parisian student, I was on the look out for some healthly cheap food.Of the yogic,vegetarian, hippie variety.No tartare for me,no, no ! There was this hole in the wall behind Place Furstenberg, where I tasted brown rice for the first time, gomazio on my veggies, and to finish it with a flurry, a mug of hot thyme infusion. So simple, so good. It helps your digestion, and makes you happy with its wholesomeness and simplicity.