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Recipe: tonkatsu (japanese pork cutlet)

The fall shoot is yellow-overload for me. I tend to go where the aspens are and that means gold against dark pine green here in Colorado. It took some getting used to since I grew up on the East Coast and spent many a graduate school year in the northeast where maples are ablazing in glorious reds, oranges, yellows. That’s not to say that we don’t have our share of the reds here. We do! Those plants that gave us glorious wildflowers in summer do double duty and provide striking splashes of red in the backcountry as evidenced on a recent hike.

sticky geranium leaves turning red

more sticky geranium

columbine leaves growing in a rock crevice

fireweed

king’s (or rose?) crown

September has always been my favorite month because it is my birthday month and my birthday usually coincided with the first day of fall. The first day of fall is an abstract concept in places like southern Virginia. But in Colorado’s high country, fall plays for reals and I love it. Jeremy and I got to the trailhead in the dark and hiked via headlamps for the first hour in sub-freezing temperatures. When the sun made her intentions known, we shut off the lamps and admired sunrise from a high vantage point. We continued on and marveled at the frost that encrusted the ground, the plants, even the tiny late season wildflowers. Alpine plants are tough. Coming around a bend in the trail, I looked up and gasped, silently grabbing Jeremy’s arm as he walked up behind me. In the bluish light of dawn under the forest canopy stood an enormous bull moose. He was massive and towered above us even 20 feet away. At once, the moose reared its head up and back, the entirety of its enormous body flowing fluidly behind the head and diving into the woods, silently and effortlessly.

sunrise on the valley

the frost

jeremy walks ahead of the sun

We heard bull elk bugling in the distance and saw a handful of mule deer feeding in the meadows. It’s a busy time of year for everyone. While we are secretly doing our snow dances every day, this is our favorite weather for hiking when you can see your breath on the air into mid-morning and the sun is regarded as a welcome friend rather than an oppressive tyrant.

a few of the early aspens

a few snowfields linger in the chutes

After a hike, we’re always hungry because we rarely eat much for breakfast (it’s hard to stomach much food at 4am) and we typically graze infrequently on the trail. The temptation to make a beeline straight from the trailhead to a burger joint or the pizza shack is high, but we try to avoid it by having good leftovers at home to heat up and dig into immediately. In this case, I had tonkatsu – Japanese pork cutlet – in the refrigerator. I like to make extra because Jeremy loves it for lunch. It’s a dish I’ve seen on just about every menu in a sushi bar, but I never ordered it because I’m such a nut about sushi and sashimi. After seeing Marc post about it, I bookmarked the recipe and didn’t look at my bookmarks again until a few months ago.

start by slicing cabbage

and soaking it in water

A traditional accompaniment is sliced cabbage and since you soak it in water for about an hour, it’s advised that you start with that step first. Once you get the cabbage soaking, break out the pork loin! Well, I used pork loin chops. You just need pork loin chops, salt, pepper, an egg, flour, and panko (flaky Japanese bread crumbs – flaky as in texture, not in terms of reliability). And oil for frying.

pork, egg, panko

trim any fat or silverskin from the pork

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Recipe: charred savoy cabbage salad

[Thank you for all of the wonderful comments and birthday wishes you left for Jeremy! He was totally flummoxed, but in the good way. You guys are so sweet. xo]

At certain times of the year my schedule is completely dictated by the life cycle of plants. Plants. In spring it is the wildflowers in the Southwest. Come summer, it’s the wildflowers of the Colorado Rockies. In autumn – I chase fall colors. That’s probably the toughest season because the leaves are most fragile, early snowstorms can blow in, windstorms kick up and strip the aspens. Wildfire season can turn our lovely Colorado air into something reminiscent of California’s Inland Empire. The autumn shoot is fast approaching and I’m making my plans which is to say, I’m leaving the next several weeks wide open because you have to be ready to go when the leaves say so. I have that luxury in Colorado. But sometimes you just hedge your bets and plan a more distant trip based on the maximum likelihood that the leaves will have something good to show while you’re there. You buy your plane tickets and tell yourself that even if the colors aren’t spectacular, it doesn’t matter… because you’re in Yosemite.

valley view

I’ve learned over the years as a nature photographer and a general lover of the outdoors that Nature is completely out of your control. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be prepared though. Arming yourself with good information can be the difference between a successful shoot and coming home with mediocre snaps. So when I was in Yosemite last February to shoot Horsetail Fall during that magical, but fleeting window when the setting sun illuminates the trickle of water coming down from El Capitan, I had some of the best information available to me. Michael Frye, a well-known Yosemite photographer of 25 years and my mentor, had asked me to beta test The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite app on my iPhone.

horsetail fall

I stood in the snow with a dozen other photographers, waiting to see if the clearing storm would allow the sun to hit the falls. There were at least a hundred photogs milling about between the parking lot and other spots nearby. Some people had no idea where to fix their lens – because it’s hard to know unless you’ve seen it before. I pulled up the app on the iPhone and showed them Michael’s gorgeous capture so they could puzzle out where to train their eyes. Even though I was just beta testing, it was so incredibly handy to have. Alas, the setting sun hinted, but never spilled out enough for the shot. All of the other days I was there, we were socked in with clouds and snow.

locations

maps

The app is essentially Michael’s book and then some! It guides photographers through Yosemite to the numerous attractions throughout the national park. There are detailed descriptions of locations, how to get there, where to go for the best views, the best times of year and day to shoot, several of Michael’s beautiful photographs, plus relevant photography advice from a master. If you’re not completely familiar with the park, no worries – there are nice maps provided too. I’m all about the maps.

half dome at sunset

misty meadow

Or if you want to know what your best bets are based on your visit, you can filter your search by entering the time of year and time of day. It helped me plan the logistics of my trip such that I wasn’t wasting precious time driving from one side of the valley to the other. The good news is that Michael’s Yosemite App is out of beta and available for purchase! You can purchase it here on iTunes. I think anyone visiting Yosemite might want this app on their iPhone. Even if you aren’t planning to make any photos, the guide will put you in the right place at the right time to experience the grandeur and the majesty of Yosemite at her best. Congratulations on the release, Michael! Read Michael’s post on the release.

el cap from gates of the valley

As is typical of where I live (in the mountains), we have snow in the forecast for these last days of summer. We had snow on the first day of summer too. This makes for all kinds of happy over here at the House of Butter. Cooler weather means 1) getting my ski on and 2) getting my cooking mojo back. It’s back! I first had this fantastic salad in Seattle at Delancey last spring. It was surprisingly good. I really should never doubt the magic of cabbage. I love cabbage.

pretty, ruffly savoy cabbage

quartered

I was with Shauna, Danny, and Lu. Danny and I tasted the salad and looked at one another as we analyzed it. Danny said it was pretty straightforward. Of course, Danny is a chef. I went home, tried to replicate it and my salad was woefully NOT DELANCEY’S SALAD. And then the other day I got a hankering for the salad again and asked Brandon if I could have the recipe because I’m such a loser that I couldn’t figure it out myself. Brandon – the guy who runs Delancey – is a gem of a fellow and a great cook. He sent me his instructions. When I asked if it was alright to post it, he said sure! Brandon is swell.

char the cabbage on the grill if you don’t have a wood-fired oven

chop the quarters up into bite-size pieces

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: chicken tikka masala

It used to be that I would measure a mile by the number of times (four) around the track. Then it became segments of a route through a lush residential neighborhood during field hockey practice runs. When Jeremy and I met and began hiking and backpacking together, I loved to stand on a high point and look back at where we had started. A short six miles could wind up a valley, around a mountain, over a ridge, and climb to a pass. It’s one thing to read it on the topo map and understand this in a cerebral sense. It’s another thing entirely to behold the majesty of the landscape before you.

golden grasses and rocks mantle the peaks and ridges

We had not hiked Mount Audubon since my birthday almost four years ago. Back then, Kaweah was still strong enough to summit with us and I was unaware I had cancer. A lot can happen over the course of four years and yet the trail was as we remembered it, more or less. When we ski in the backcountry, we’re always looking up and around us. When we hike, we’re usually scanning the trail ahead. I remember that cairn, that split boulder, that bifurcation of the trail, that stream crossing, that trail junction. I know where to expect to see families of marmots, pika, and ptarmigans. I like to think of the mountain structures changing on their geologic time scales – that is, they seldom change in our lifetime – and the mountain environment changing with diurnal or seasonal cycles due to avalanche, rock slide, fire, rain, vegetation, freeze and thaw, wind.

this pika is harvesting plants for the long winter ahead

adolescent ptarmigan in hiding

another pika checking us out at 13,000 feet

jeremy on summit

New trails are exciting, but familiar trails are comforting for me. I suppose it’s like that for cooking or anything for that matter. As far as food goes, my usual progression is to like a dish that has been served to me and then crave it such that I want to learn to make it myself. Except with Indian food. I had this mental barrier. Despite most of the ingredients being things I’ve used or at least heard of, I just didn’t know where to begin. My good friend, Manisha, has been so patient with me. I ask her the same stupid questions over and over and she patiently replies over and over and yet I still didn’t have the guts to make my own Indian food… until last week. It’s such a westernized Indian dish, but it is a favorite to be sure. I had to make chicken tikka masala.

chicken, yogurt, lime, garlic, oil, and spices

mince the garlic, juice the lime, dice the chicken

Everyone says it’s easy to make. They’re right. It is. It’s just a pain to make it for the first time and shoot it too. I tripled the batch to make up for the time investment (hey, you can freeze it). First marinate the chicken in a mix of plain yogurt, lime juice, oil, garlic, and spices. The range was 1 hour to 24 hours. I like the idea of marinades, so I went for 24 hours. Booyah!

put it all in a bowl

mix well then refrigerate

When the chicken is ready, you can either bake it or grill it. I chose to grill it. Just skewer the cubes without packing them too tightly together (because you want the chicken to cook evenly) and grill or bake until they are cooked. Turn them over half-way through the cooking time. On our grill it took a total of seven minutes: four on one side and three after flipping the skewers. Lovely.

skewer

grill (or bake)

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