TO FEED AND BE FED.

Feeding people is an exercise in generosity. It takes time to prepare a menu, gather friends, shop for ingredients, clean the house, set a table, and clean it up. It costs money to buy food and all accompanied ingredients. Entertaining, be it for four or seventeen, takes time and money. I enjoy feeding people. I like making food, serving in that way, as an act of love and nourishing people I care about. That is why I cook. Not for myself, I am happy with hummus toast, but because my skill feeds someone elses need to be fed, to feel taken care of. I want to give that. Without noticing, I grew pragmatic about that process last year - not inviting people over for the sake of frugality or inconvenience. The book testing was over and I didn't want to try so hard, maybe some of you can understand that. Except around New Year resolution time, I realized I'd cooled it a little too hard. I missed it. I missed the fearless giving that happens around a table where food is shared. Despite practicality, we'd have more dinners with friends. 

My parents were out of town for the weekend so I jumped at the opportunity to use their beautiful yard and more spacious kitchen to get friends together. We were pushing it for an outdoor dinner, the weather is not that warm yet, but I put out blankets and extra jackets and we made do. Everyone brought something to share, Hugh and I grilled teriyaki black cod, Alaskan Halibut with cajun spices and green apple salsa and tri tip with a couple sauces. I made a pot of black beans with onions, wine and a number of other pantry staples that turned out better than expected. And of course there was a springy cocktail which I'm including the rough recipe for below. I can't exactly explain how in the hustle of feeding 17 people, I felt alive. Like I was supposed to be doing this. Nourishing people. 

It took time and money. It always does. It is always worth it. 

STRAWBERRY GRAPEFRUIT SMASH // Serves 8

I can't think of a better combination for the change of seasons. It was perfect to make for a group. I am also thinking a blood orange and blackberry would be a nice and pretty combination, maybe even with gin if you wanted to have two types of cocktails out. These are rough estimates, taste and add as you wish. 

3 T. honey

3 T. natural cane sugar

16 oz./2 cups fresh grapefruit juice

16 oz./2 cups vodka

1 pint strawberries, roughly smashed

few sprigs of fresh mint

8 oz. club soda/soda water

ice for serving

In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the honey, cane sugar and a few tablespoons of the grapefruit juice. Stir until the sugar is dissolved. Transfer to a large pitcher. Add the grapefruit juice, vodka, strawberries and stir. This much can be done in advance and kept in the fridge until needed.

Rough up the mint to release the flavor. When ready to serve, add the mint and soda water and give the mix one more stir. Pour the mix into ice filled glasses, letting bits of strawberry and mint get in the glass for presentations sake. 

11.13.12

You dislike this picture. It was taken from an awkward angle. I was holding the phone at a diagonal above our heads. The sun was bright and in our faces from the wrong direction...whatever that means in photo lingo. I love it for so many reasons beyond the composition of the photograph. I love that you are making me laugh, as you often do. I get your sense of humor and you exercise it constantly with me. You calm me when I need to be calmed, you give me pep talks when I need to be pepped, you're quiet when I need silence, but at any given time, you can make me laugh. I LOVE that. This picture is from last week when we were picnicking on the Salt Creek Hill - a place you and I both feel at peace. You for the ocean and how alive it makes you feel, and I for the overall expansiveness of the view. That view makes me feel small in a big world. This picture was from last Tuesday, we were both able to take a break in the middle of the day to picnic. I never take the flexibility of our work schedules for granted. The flexibility that allows us the freedom for the occasional mid-day picnic and that somehow we pay our bills and eat well. Sometimes I stress at you "we aren't working hard enough." Panic! This stress is not because I don't trust you. It is merely because sometimes, when we're eating a La Sirena picnic on the hill, this life feels too good to be true. Thank you for convincing me to do the work I enjoy. Please know I always want that for you too... even when I panic. Back to the picture. You're kissing me, and affection is second nature to you. For me, physical touch is something that is intentional. But for you, it is part of your communication. The bun squeezes while I'm cooking, the hand on my waist when you first wake up, the open armed late night greetings at the door when I get home from work. I hear you. I see you. I'm so lucky to be yours.

Today, November 13th, we have been married for two years. Remember the crazy fun, perfect party we had? Perfect... if you don't count the music going out when I was at the top of the aisle with my Dad. But all things considered, it was damn perfect. I think we would both agree that year one and year two of being married have been different. The floundering that happened in year one felt more steady as time passed. We dedicated year two to knowing each other better, to loving the other how they most feel loved instead of how we most easily give love. We don't get it right all the time, but this year, you have filled me up more than ever, and as I most needed you to. I feel known by you. That sounds so hippy-dippy, but I think that's what we all want in this life, to be understood, and you are the person who understands me. This year we chose to seek counsel, to get advice from the older and the wiser about marriage and communication. We learned to apologize quicker and more willingly than before. This past year is the one I most frequently stormed up to the couch late at night. One time I took all the bedding with me, practically guaranteeing you'd come after me. I love the (charming, in retrospect) visual of me wrapped in a giant comforter at the top of the stairs, upset about who knows what, while you're truly trying to talk me down (maybe arguing back?) and just as the crazy had run its course, you swooped in to make me laugh. Which is why we have a photo of this moment. One day when we get the hang of doing this well and become the older and the wiser, I will show young couples this photo. Let's keep it real, for everyones sake, you can love each other deeply and still get unbelievably pissed.

I love our real life - the laughing, the picnics, the affection, the learning, the fighting and desire to be a better version of ourselves out of the love for the other... and if any of it does turn out to be too good to be true, I will be right next to you the entire time.

Happy Anniversary, Hugh Forte. I love you SO much.

AT LONG LAST

When you're on a swing, without a push start from the ground, you begin pumping your legs to get the thing moving. Leaning far back to move the swing forward, and then bending the knees back trying to generate some momentum. At first it feels like you're going nowhere, that people are watching you laboriously thrust yourself back and forth, barely off the ground. Awkward as it is, you are moving, you are gaining energy. We started this cookbook nearly two years ago, and in just a couple weeks it will be out in the world. It started with lots of work and food and research and mistakes and emails and more food - the pumping of our legs. With a blog, you get a response almost immediately, but you have to sit on a book for awhile before it generates feedback. That time that we've been sitting with it has made me anxious, so I'm thrilled to set it loose. We are no longer flailing our legs to get off the ground, we're moving, really swinging, on this ride of writing a cookbook. I have a big stack in our office for family and friends, copies are in the mail to my recipe testers, and there are a number on the desks of media folks. This is the part where you just allow the momentum to take you. And even if it's been years since you've found yourself on a swing, you know that feeling - once the cadence takes over, the woosh of speed, the moment of weightlessness, arcing back again - and the freedom of giving in.

Below is our homemade promo video. We improvised some material and Hugh did a fabulous job of teaching himself how to shoot and edit, if I do say so myself. It's so "us," incapable of taking ourselves too seriously,  and it makes me happy. 

Ten Speed Press also put together a great sampler of a few of the recipes from the book so you can get a taste of what's inside.