use real butter

Recipe: porcini pizza

I’m back in Colorado. That was a quick less-than-48-hour trip in which we managed to get not a whole lot of sleep. But the reason we got so little sleep was because there is always plenty to cram into a day when we’re in California. I mean, not only are there just too many fun things to do (and great food to sample), but there are always some very wonderful friends to see. Our second day went like this:

visiting a little bakery in napa

enjoying the art while eating a strawberry croissant

pretty glass at a tasting room

client meeting and engagement shoot

a late dinner with elise and guy

Jeremy and I returned home Wednesday morning on a 6:20 am flight. Then we proceeded to gather our pup from Camp Crazy, give her a suds session, and prepare our place for house guests arriving that evening. You may know Chuck as the Chief Gawker (he runs foodgawker among many other sites), but I first became friends with him and Hungry Bear years ago when they blogged at Sunday Nite Dinner. They visited for less than 24 hours, but I managed to show them a little bit of my Colorado.

picking up our kaweah girl

chuck and hungry bear hiked up to a lovely alpine lake with me

appetizers at the kitchen (quintessential boulder)

he is still a food blogger at heart

Did I mention the freshman and their parents are in Boulder this week? Well, they so totally are. It takes twice as long to get anywhere in town right now. I had a lot to do between saying good-bye to Chuck and Hungry Bear and meeting up with my parents to celebrate my mom’s birthday. I suppose the upside to this is that dodging all of these out-of-town drivers helped raise my heart rate and keep me awake.

picked up some lilies for mom

of course, my folks decided on frasca

beautiful cured salmon starters

jeremy’s primi (rigatoni with tender veal cheek)

During dinner, one of the servers recognized me from a delivery I had made the previous week to Frasca. I promised Mr. Bobby Stuckey some fresh porcinis if I ever found enough nice bouchons to bring to him. Well, I did and so I was good for my word. I had handed the bag to this young woman and asked that she send it along to Bobby as he was busy in the kitchen and I was in a rush for a meeting. She told me that he gave it to the kitchen and they made him a nice dinner from the mushrooms. “He was very happy,” she smiled. So glad to hear it. I had my own bag of fresh porcinis at home to polish off before heading out of town earlier this week. There was no way I was going to waste these babies. Jeremy and I decided to make some pizza.

there is no such thing as enough porcinis

keep it simple: garlic butter, salt, pepper, mozzarella, porcinis, pizza dough

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: spinach cheese empanadas

A lot of our time seems to revolve around friends and food of late. I guess that’s no surprise, but it hops onto an accelerated pace in summer when the weather is nice and we don’t have to worry about insane winds scaring our dinner guests off or snow and ice closing the canyon. Game on! On Sunday, Trent (who owns Pica’s in Boulder), his family, and a mutual friend came up to escape the heat and enjoy some burgers. These aren’t just any burgers, but California roll burgers. Trent spends so much time feeding and taking care of others that I felt it was his turn to be spoiled – just a little bit.

that’s a tall burger

it cooled down nicely in time for ice cream, strawberry daifuku mochi, and french macarons on the deck

trent and his darling little girl

being silly

Ahhh, I love good eaters… good eaters who appreciate good food. Those are the best guests! They also make for great dinner companions. One of my all-time favorite dinner guests is Erin, who turns the big 3-0 (that’s 30) in a few days. Jeremy and I took her out Monday night to The Kitchen’s Community Night dinner for an early celebration. I mean, everyone knows the 30s totally rawk.

mushroom flatbread

brawn

our neighbors

birthday girl and jeremy

When we hosted the astrophysics retreat last week, I planned Argentine empanadas as part of the lunch menu one day. As two of the guests do not eat beef, I figured I could offer a vegetarian version. This spinach and cheese filling sounded pretty good, but I had no idea how popular it would be among the carnivores as well!

the filling: spinach, chile powder, garlic, ricotta, mozzarella, parmesan, olive oil, butter

chiffonade

everything prepped

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: anzac biscuits

I can never get into the mountains early enough. This is the truth seeing as we like to mountain year round. It’s just that the summer season is so fleeting up here – typically not melting out fully until mid-July and then getting snow as early as mid-September. Trust me, I am NOT complaining about snow in the backcountry. In fact, I would prefer a little more this year. Jeremy and I did a couple of hikes recently and nearly cried tears of sorrow at the sparse and measly little patches of snow at 11,000 feet. I mean seriously… this is what the backcountry looked like last year on the first day of summer.

my kind of summer

Really though, our tears are more for the parched wilderness than the skiing. We can find skiing of one kind or another most of the year, but the snowpack is 2% of normal right now and there is a giant wildfire blazing an hour north of us. We are on alert. Our evacuation items are ready. In the meantime we hike (and mountain bike and trail run). It’s funny to walk up these trails without heavy boots and skis and skins on your feet, and by funny I mean way the hell lighter. It’s also mind-numbingly slow hiking out compared to skiing out. And it’s hot. That’s why we love our mountain forests, for the shade they provide and the beautiful, lush undergrowth.

shooting star by a small stream

ski hut

the view across to the continental divide

When I first began hiking with Jeremy almost 20 years ago, I was an impatient hiker who was hellbent on peak-bagging. I think that’s a common newbie characteristic. As I’ve grown older, maybe even wiser, I’ve come to accept it for what it really is – a journey. The journey IS the goal. Once I understood this, I’ve enjoyed a greater success rate of summits despite the fact that summits aren’t really my goal anymore. So zen. This is especially so when you hike in a place you know well, as if you are visiting the plants and animals and rocks and streams – the community. One of my favorite local hikes is Pawnee Pass (and Pawnee Peak given no thunderheads) on the Continental Divide. It’s beautiful. It is long enough to be a worthy hike, yet not so long that it kills you. It has a nice climb, great views, and so many wonderful flowers and critters at the right time of day and right time of year.

fairy primrose (alpine primrose)

my favorite blue: alpine forget-me-nots

The flowers get shorter and smaller as you climb higher, because the weather trashes the higher elevations with wind, rain, snow, everything it can throw at you. Look out across the high country and most people see grasses, dirt, and rock. If you look closely, you will discover so much life thriving in little crevices where a pocket of soil has developed in the lee of the boulder or a stream has fed a tiny depression. This has always amazed me, inspired me. A few years ago I had done this hike with Jeremy, our friend, Marianne, and Kaweah. It was shortly after my radiation treatments had ended, but I felt that I needed to get outside. Halfway up, I was hit with these recurring abdominal pains which I figured were just side effects from radiation or perhaps chemo. I didn’t realize I had a smoldering appendix until two months later in the emergency room. But I told Jeremy and Marianne to hike ahead and I would have Kaweah for… company (let’s face it, she’s not saving ANYONE) and that I’d just turn around when I caught up with them on their return.

on the pass

storm clouds building

Jeremy and I talked about that hike this time.

Me: Remember when…
Jeremy: Yeah. I was so happy when I saw you and Kaweah coming over the rise.
Me: I didn’t know if I was going to make it to the pass, but I leaned into it and put one foot in front of the other and the distance just disappeared under my feet.
Jeremy: I’m sure Kaweah was tugging at the leash and going nuts smelling all of the marmots and pikas.
Me: There was that…

Maybe the reason I love hiking so much is that I find it’s a lot like life: a journey, an adventure, with very real risks and decisions. It’s good to be at it again, good to see the high country in bloom and buzzing with critters. It reminds me that it’s good to be alive.

Have you ever done a hike that you thought looked or sounded meh on paper, but turned out to love once you were actually there? I love those kinds of surprises. (I’ve also done plenty of hikes that looked like they would be awesome and were absolutely miserable.) This cookie was one of those for me. My first introduction to the ANZAC biscuit was when I visited my friend, Kell, in Sydney. She placed her hand on the cookie jar and said in her delicious Aussie accent, “Jen, I’ve got some ANZAC biscuits here if you’d like to have some.” There was no sign of chocolate and they sounded interesting – this cookie was sent to those in the Australia New Zealand Army Corps during World War I, because it wouldn’t spoil on the long trip to the soldiers. I forgot about them until day 2, and I could have sworn she put crack in those cookies.

what’s really in an anzac biscuit: butter, flour, oats, coconut, sugar, golden (or light corn) syrup, salt, baking soda

mix the dry ingredients together

**Jump for more butter**