use real butter

Recipe: carne adovada quesadillas

Reminder: You have until March 1, 2011 to get the early bird registration discount of $50 for the Food and Light food photography and styling workshop in Boulder, Colorado this summer!

California does it to me every time. I get a nip of the flowers, the greenery, the warmer weather and I start feeling excited for spring despite my sworn love of winter and skiing and fleece and down. Boulder will start blooming in April well before our early mountain flowers bloom come late June, so I can travel down the canyon to get my spring fix as necessary. The difference in the seasons from one place to another can be quite drastic all due to geography.

yosemite’s geography and weather dictated winter last weekend

I have mixed feelings about Yosemite. It is one of the most heavily visited of our national parks and in summer it is a veritable tangle of cars and people all wanting to experience the wilderness while loving it to death. We call it the sacrificial lamb. It’s the small area of wilderness you open up to the general public in order to save and preserve the rest of the park which sees far less traffic. Woodland critters run up and beg for food when they ought to be running away from people. Part of the reason I love these stunning natural places is because I want to hear the rush of the rivers and waterfalls, the chirps of the local birds, the breeze rustling the leaves – not some couple arguing over their broken marriage (yeah, we heard that one night in camp) or car horns bellowing because we can’t be courteous to one another. We bring our outside problems in and they are at their height in summer. Traveling to Yosemite in the off season reminds me of just how amazing this place is any time of year.

a squall blows through the valley

Have you been? The famous towering outcrops and sheer valley walls really work that third dimension. I was in awe the first time I laid eyes on the valley 18 years ago. It doesn’t fail to take my breath away today. It’s special and worth seeing at least once. The best part about the snowstorm was that it kept a good bit of the holiday weekend crowds at bay. Actually, that’s not true. The best part about the snowstorm was the snowstorm.

can’t resist a clearing storm

As the clouds lifted and sucker holes (patches of blue sky) materialized to the west, the wet snow on the trees began to melt under the sunlight and fall. It felt like the aftermath of a big spring storm as we walked through the stands, pelted by a never-ending snowball fight with the trees. I have always held the opinion that everything looks magical under a blanket of white snow. Yosemite valley looked candied, dusted, and ready to eat.

view from the gates of the valley

You can see more of the photos from the trip on my photo blog.

It’s still winter over here in Colorado, but the longer daylight hours and our bluebird days cue me to shift my cooking habits. I associate slow-cooked stews and soups with the cold and dark nights that seem to stretch on forever. Rummaging through the freezer recently, I found a jackpot of carne adovada I had prepared back in December to make life for Future Me easier. I love to cook, but if I cook and bake too much when the sun is up, I start to get ornery. I honestly don’t know how some of my friends like Shauna and Jennie crank through recipe after recipe (sometimes the same one over and over again until it’s perfect), but these ladies are dedicated baking and cooking machines. My hat is off to them. But me? I’m a lazy bum and sometimes lazy bums just want a quick and easy quesadilla.

you will need tortillas, cheese, and carne adovada

even distribution is the ocd’s mantra

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Recipe: chinese pork belly zong zi

I’m looking forward to going home. There are few if any trips that I’ve taken where I felt that I wasn’t ready to go home to be with my guy and my pup, in my familiar surrounds, getting back to my routine. A creature of habit. That’s me. When I booked my travel I was asked to identify this as business, personal, or both. I checked both. The primary reason was to shoot.

me and my gazillion new friends

With the forecast calling for snow (and lots of it), we packed our skis because there’s a ski resort in Yosemite. Little did we know that unlike ANY OTHER SKI RESORT IN THE WORLD, Badger Pass CLOSES when it gets snow. It has to do with plowing the roads and such, but I was simultaneously dismayed and astounded and then dismayed some more. The storms cleared just in time for us to drive back to the coast so Jeremy could catch a flight home while I spent an extra couple of days visiting with my grandma.

mandatory activity: the eating of the chinese food

Even though I used to live in Southern California, it still blows my mind that flowering trees are starting to bloom here in the San Francisco bay area… in February. February. I suppose that is why Grandma likes it here so much. That and all of the awesome Chinese food.

plum blossoms

Whenever I visit, I always drive Grandma to whatever stores she needs to go to. We get her (my) sewing machine in for maintenance, go to the fabric store so she can pick up materials for some projects, go to the Asian markets for groceries… Years ago, I purchased a package of bamboo leaves while visiting Grandma and flew home with them. They sat in my pantry for about three or four years. These are an essential component for making zong zi – Chinese rice dumplings (more like Chinese rice tamales). I *finally* got around to making these a few weeks ago and now that I know how to make them… I need more bamboo leaves – to make more! I have two bags of them packed in my luggage as I type.

fried shallots, dried shrimp, bamboo leaves, pearl rice (sticky rice)

bamboo leaves, rice, pork belly, mushrooms, fried shallots, dried shrimp

My grandma used to make zong zi from scratch when I was a little kid. Back in the day, these sorts of Chinese treats were hard to come by in southern Virginia, but if you had a Chinese grandma in your house, you were in luck! I have strong visual memories of the foods my grandmother made for us when I was growing up. It’s the only reason I knew which rice to buy (fortunately for me, their label hasn’t changed in over 30 years!). I have seen some recipes use other kinds of rice (long grain, short grain), but I like the texture of the pearl or sweet rice, as it is sometimes called.

slicing up the pork belly

soaking the rice

boiling the bamboo leaves

I checked my local Asian grocery store for bamboo leaves to give to a friend (who also wanted to make zong zi), but they only had frozen banana leaves. I’m glad I didn’t substitute because after cooking with the bamboo leaves, I think they are essential to the zong zi. The leaves impart a mellow tea flavor to the rice.

marinate the pork belly with soy sauce, shallots, cooking wine, sugar, and pepper

mix the shrimp and rice together

simmer the pork and mushrooms

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Recipe: pistachio crème brûlée

little love letter #1
I remember in the early days when we were backpacking the Olympics of Washington and it started to rain. You thought it would get better. You really believed it would because you grew up in New Mexico where it’s sunny almost every day. After 24 hours of non-stop rain I declared we were packing up and moving on, in the rain. We discovered that a journey can be magical, rain or shine or horizontal snow. And that is how we choose to live our life together to this day. Throughout the years there have been so many great moments along with a few very hard times. I’m glad that you are my eternal traveling companion – then and now, rain or shine, laughter or tears, but always love.

little love letter #2
There is no way for you to ever know how much you broke my heart the day you left. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you. I often find myself chuckling over something silly that I know you’d appreciate or discovering a little knick knack you had given me: the little moon doggie, the office supply cube, a newspaper clipping. I still have your number in my address book, have all of your letters squirreled away someplace safe, hear your voice in my head. I don’t cry as much anymore, but it still catches me by surprise now and again. I think of the plans we had – to grow old together, to take care of Mom and Dad together, to watch your children grow up, to be best friends and sisters into old age. I still keep you in my heart.

little love letter #3
Can you tell how much I love you even though I don’t know how to say it? Some of my earliest memories include walking with you on a sunny afternoon around the neighborhood. I always felt safe and secure with you near. You were the calming presence. You never yelled, you were never mean, your eyes danced like sparkling stars when you smiled. You held my hand when I walked up the stairs as a toddler. Now, I offer you my arm or my hand when we walk together. I don’t understand everything you say to me and I’m pretty sure you don’t understand everything I say to you in my mangled Mandarin, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes still dance when you smile and I know what you mean when you squeeze my hand.

littler love letters
Thank you for letting me be me. Thank you for getting who I am. Thank you for being you.

I honestly don’t think Moses said, “Word up, my people…” but I like the way you tell the story.

The way you think and the way you treat others challenge me to think differently, to do better, to be better. I love that about you.

We make a GREAT team. It’s a joy to work with you.

It meant so much to me that you were there when I needed you most, and I didn’t even have to ask.

Your stories make me laugh. Your curiosity helps me learn. Your enthusiasm is infectious.

Watching you raise your children makes me so proud to be your friend.

Of all the random paths we have taken in this world, I’m glad our two random paths have crossed and that you are a part of my life.

If I had a tail, I’d wag it whenever I am with you.

That good heart of yours makes this world a better place.

“I sure do love you.”

dinner: pan-seared, dry-aged beef tenderloin on polenta with chanterelles and port reduction

dessert: pistachio crème brûlée

I am a fan of love. I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day isn’t love, it’s a gimmick. For me, love is a kiss and sweet words each morning. Love is that warm hug in the kitchen just because you’re there. Love is running through the house squeaking the dog toy – chasing one another and laughing hysterically. Love is poring over maps together to plan the next backpacking trip. Love is calling to the other to go outside and admire the moon one fine evening. Love is curling up under the covers and whispering plans to one another for the next day.

And in the House of Butter, love is also about making a great meal to enjoy and share.

easy: eggs, cream, sugar, pistachios

after removing the skins

sugar and pistachios

**Jump for more butter**