Spring has sprung in Portland. This cherry tree is just outside my front door, and all over town the daffodils are being joined by flowering trees. I still haven't seen tulips blooming, but they are almost there. Yesterday was a glorious sunny day (although the morning started out in the low 30s) and today is back to grey and wet. I guess it must be March.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Random Photo of the Day
Spring has sprung in Portland. This cherry tree is just outside my front door, and all over town the daffodils are being joined by flowering trees. I still haven't seen tulips blooming, but they are almost there. Yesterday was a glorious sunny day (although the morning started out in the low 30s) and today is back to grey and wet. I guess it must be March.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
My Aikido teacher
We hosted an Aikido seminar this weekend at my dojo (pictures to come). K. Chiba Shihan was scheduled to come to Oregon for what may well have been the last time since he's retiring after 50 years of Aikido training. Unfortunately, he was very ill and couldn't travel, but we held the seminar anyway, with a number of excellent senior instructors in attendance. This is Fleshler Sensei, who has been my teacher since he came to Portland in the late 80s. Since I have a nasty cold, I had the opportunity to take photos rather than have my body thrown through the air. Some would say that was a good trade-off, but I chafed at the bit. Still, I did shoot nearly 1,000 pictures during the seminar and one or two of them are pretty good. At some point, I'll post more but I wanted to acknowledge my debt to my teacher as a gesture of thanks.
About those lemons . . .
Last night I served the lamb tagine that was the target for the preserved lemons. It was a fairly complex (and expensive) dish, done with lots of spices, crookneck squash, Kalamata olives and 16 wedges of the preserved lemon and four pounds of lamb shoulder in big pieces. We had a great dojo potluck the Saturday night of a big Aikido seminar.
The tagine was a hit. In fact, I was lucky to get any myself since it was mostly gone by the time I got into line. Several people asked me later if I'd tasted the lamb dish and then wanted to know how it was done. I love cooking for people when they appreciate what I've done!
Somehow, after spending the entire day photographing the Aikido seminar, I neglected to take a picture of the tagine. Damn.
The tagine was a hit. In fact, I was lucky to get any myself since it was mostly gone by the time I got into line. Several people asked me later if I'd tasted the lamb dish and then wanted to know how it was done. I love cooking for people when they appreciate what I've done!
Somehow, after spending the entire day photographing the Aikido seminar, I neglected to take a picture of the tagine. Damn.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Random Photo of the Day
Compared to the Midwest and New England, of course, we never had a real Winter. But it's definitely edging into Spring here in Portland. The flowering trees are beginning to fill up with color, and daffodils have come out of nowhere to bring bright yellows to an otherwise grey day. I'm not entirely sure what this flower is, but it's definitely a harbinger.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Back for pastrami
My friend Ryan was up from Eugene last evening, so after a tasting of 1993 Jos. Christoffel jr. Riesling - Spätlese I'd been saving to share (wonderful complex wine that kept opening and unfolding rapidly in the glass), we headed down to Kenny & Zuke's for pastrami on rye. Remarkably for a great Portland restaurant, it was about half-full. It may have been the only good place in town where we didn't need to wait 45 minutes to be seated. The pastrami was incredible, just as tasty as the first time I visited but much more tender. Ryan and I were both very pleased.
We were just as lucky at our next stop, the Teardrop Lounge, a short distance away in NW Portland. We arrived to find the place less than half-full and had the opportunity for a short conversation with the bartenders before grabbing the last available four-top. The Teardrop is part of a new wave of bars serving innovative new cocktails and solid interpretations of old favorites, built from the best ingredients, some of which (like the Teardrop's jalapeño orange bitters) are house-made. Ryan and I were joined by his wife, Jenaya, and her mother. Shortly after they arrived, the bar hit its stride and it was soon packed to the rafters.
We tried an array of house cocktails (check the menu on their website), all of which were interesting concoctions. Even though the place was jammed, the waitstaff was very attentive and efficient; the bartenders were extremely fast. I finished with their take on a Sidecar, built from Germain-Robin's excellent brandy (although I'd been given the opportunity to make my own choice).
The Teardrop has high ceilings and a very open feeling, even when it was packed. Our only grievance was the really awful music (bad disco?) pounding through the room. And, well, not a cheap tab but given the location and the attention given to high-quality ingredients, it wasn't at all unreasonable.
We were just as lucky at our next stop, the Teardrop Lounge, a short distance away in NW Portland. We arrived to find the place less than half-full and had the opportunity for a short conversation with the bartenders before grabbing the last available four-top. The Teardrop is part of a new wave of bars serving innovative new cocktails and solid interpretations of old favorites, built from the best ingredients, some of which (like the Teardrop's jalapeño orange bitters) are house-made. Ryan and I were joined by his wife, Jenaya, and her mother. Shortly after they arrived, the bar hit its stride and it was soon packed to the rafters.
We tried an array of house cocktails (check the menu on their website), all of which were interesting concoctions. Even though the place was jammed, the waitstaff was very attentive and efficient; the bartenders were extremely fast. I finished with their take on a Sidecar, built from Germain-Robin's excellent brandy (although I'd been given the opportunity to make my own choice).
The Teardrop has high ceilings and a very open feeling, even when it was packed. Our only grievance was the really awful music (bad disco?) pounding through the room. And, well, not a cheap tab but given the location and the attention given to high-quality ingredients, it wasn't at all unreasonable.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
My appliances are dying
(Update below) I have a National rice cooker that I bought some time in 1980. Before I bought it, I was terrified of cooking rice at the same time I was living in Berkeley and deeply invested in learning to cook Asian (mostly Chinese at the time) cuisines. Living in Berkeley, in fact, it was impossible to avoid Asian food even if I'd wanted to. Dining out was the primary social activity among everyone I knew, and delicious and inexpensive Chinese, Thai, Korean and Japanese food was omnipresent. Inspired by what I was eating, I was determined to learn how to prepare it at home and the groceries in Oakland's Chinatown were a short trip away. But rice? Rice sounded incredibly arbitrary and difficult and while I was chopping and prepping dishes for the wok the last thing I could worry about was whether the water had boiled away in the rice, or the heat was too high or too low . . .
Of course, actual Asians had solved this problem years before and invented the electric rice cooker. Throw rice into the bowl, rinse, rinse, rinse, add cold water to the first knuckle, return bowl to cooker, add lid, push button and go back to whatever you were doing. The bimetal switch would detect when all the water had boiled off because the temperature would start to rise, and it would switch off the cooker with an audible snap. Wait 15 minutes for the rice to steam and voila. Or whatever the Cantonese equivalent of voila might be.
Since 1980, I've cooked literally thousands of batches of rice with this thing. I've replaced the power cord and the knob for the lid. The plastic lever for the switch is cracked and the whole thing is remarkably grungy. But it's still cooking rice. The problem is, it's no longer simple to clean. The rice sticks and leftovers don't want to come out. Cleaning the bowl has become a real chore. I just hit the "1-click" at Amazon for a new Panasonic rice cooker which looks to be just as simple and primitive as my National. No "warmer", no vegetable settings (Yoicks! You can spend a lot of money on a "rice cooker"), and it cost less than $25. I've got my fingers crossed that it's pretty much the same unit with a shiny coat (and a nonstick bowl). The old rice cooker is going in the back of the cupboard; there's no way I could actually throw it away.
And the coffee maker died. Well, it didn't exactly die, because it can still brew coffee, but there has been a disconcerting amount of hot water on the counter afterward. Turns out it's leaking out around the power cord, which is more than a little unnerving. A Gevalia brewer, it isn't nearly as old as the rice cooker, but it's been pretty reliable and, best and critical feature, it brews into a thermos carafe. No hot plate burned coffee for me. The new one just arrived: a fancy Japanese unit with a stainless carafe and a timer! I kind of like it. And I didn't have to suffer through a month's supply of Gevalia coffee to get it, which is a bonus.
Update: Both the coffee maker and the rice cooker have arrived and been put to good use. The lid on carafe apparently has to be set in the correct position, or the hot coffee has nowhere to go except down onto the counter, but otherwise the luxury of having it start brewing while I drag myself out of bed is worth the cost. The rice cooker seemed tiny when I first opened the box but it's actually perfect for the one-person batches of rice I need and the glass lid means I can watch the rice cook! Friday nights will never be boring again.
Of course, actual Asians had solved this problem years before and invented the electric rice cooker. Throw rice into the bowl, rinse, rinse, rinse, add cold water to the first knuckle, return bowl to cooker, add lid, push button and go back to whatever you were doing. The bimetal switch would detect when all the water had boiled off because the temperature would start to rise, and it would switch off the cooker with an audible snap. Wait 15 minutes for the rice to steam and voila. Or whatever the Cantonese equivalent of voila might be.
Since 1980, I've cooked literally thousands of batches of rice with this thing. I've replaced the power cord and the knob for the lid. The plastic lever for the switch is cracked and the whole thing is remarkably grungy. But it's still cooking rice. The problem is, it's no longer simple to clean. The rice sticks and leftovers don't want to come out. Cleaning the bowl has become a real chore. I just hit the "1-click" at Amazon for a new Panasonic rice cooker which looks to be just as simple and primitive as my National. No "warmer", no vegetable settings (Yoicks! You can spend a lot of money on a "rice cooker"), and it cost less than $25. I've got my fingers crossed that it's pretty much the same unit with a shiny coat (and a nonstick bowl). The old rice cooker is going in the back of the cupboard; there's no way I could actually throw it away.
And the coffee maker died. Well, it didn't exactly die, because it can still brew coffee, but there has been a disconcerting amount of hot water on the counter afterward. Turns out it's leaking out around the power cord, which is more than a little unnerving. A Gevalia brewer, it isn't nearly as old as the rice cooker, but it's been pretty reliable and, best and critical feature, it brews into a thermos carafe. No hot plate burned coffee for me. The new one just arrived: a fancy Japanese unit with a stainless carafe and a timer! I kind of like it. And I didn't have to suffer through a month's supply of Gevalia coffee to get it, which is a bonus.
Update: Both the coffee maker and the rice cooker have arrived and been put to good use. The lid on carafe apparently has to be set in the correct position, or the hot coffee has nowhere to go except down onto the counter, but otherwise the luxury of having it start brewing while I drag myself out of bed is worth the cost. The rice cooker seemed tiny when I first opened the box but it's actually perfect for the one-person batches of rice I need and the glass lid means I can watch the rice cook! Friday nights will never be boring again.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Rocky Butte
Since it's 50 degrees in the middle of February, and the sun is shining out of a clear blue sky, I thought it was a good idea to get outdoors for a bit. So, after living in Portland for 24 years, I finally got around to actually visiting Rocky Butte State Park, which turned out to be nothing at all like I expected. Well, it was high up and provided a panoramic view of the Columbia River, Mt Hood, and Mt St Helens (and IKEA and a lot of industrial land and two freeways), but I anticipated something wild and more natural. Instead, I drove up a long winding road, through a tunnel, alongside a number of stilt houses eagerly awaiting a good quake, and some of the biggest and ugliest McMansions I've seen in town.
Then, at the very top, I found the Joseph Wood Hill "Park" which was originally the site for a military academy built in the early 20th century. What it looks like, really, is an old stone fortress. Guarded today by the biggest Great Dane I've ever seen. The forest-y portion of the park is downhill and to the east and for all I know there are trails through it. In general, I wasn't overwhelmed.
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