use real butter

Recipe: apple tarte tatin

I really meant to check in over the weekend and slap a quick post up, but it was a matter of priorities. Sleep won. You’d think if the leaves weren’t stellar that the shooting schedule would ease up some. It did a little bit, but Colorado is a big state. We covered a lot of ground. We saw baby raccoons scrambling, birds of prey hunting, fake deer, real deer, real elk, happy hunting dogs wagging their tails, and angry tree squirrels.

i spent my weekend here

This trip turned out to be more recon than shooting, but I’ll share some photos later this week. For now, I’ve got a few trip shots (for fun) of food, my shooting pal Jason, and my friend Josh, who wanted to know what our shoots are like.

the smart phone as appendage

jason and i split a greek salad at secret stash in crested butte

and then we split this lovely beast (the woodward)

chicken dinner at slogar (crested butte)

woody’s rollin smoke bar-b-que and cookshack in marble

patio dining

pulled pork and beef brisket

It was a good trip despite the state of the colors/leaves. I think any time you avoid injury (okay, I did smash my face with Jason’s car door… ow!) or death, accidents, major arguments, food poisoning, and loss of or damage to equipment, it’s a good trip. Because really, it’s about what you make more than what you find. As Jason’s daughter’s favorite saying goes: You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit. Jason and I recited that ad nauseam (to one another) – partly as commentary on the conditions and partly to just annoy the hell out of each other. We do that. It’s fun. We probably drove poor Josh insane.

jason shortly before flipping me the bird – good times!

The lure of autumn is big for me. Not only am I keenly tuned in to the fall colors around Colorado, but I live for that cold snap when the chill in the early morning lingers long into the day. It happens when I no longer run for cover from the sun’s burning rays, but turn a smile into it. I smell the faint hint of smoke on the air from people lighting their fireplaces. In those spare moments when my mind jumps from one task to another, thoughts of fall fruits get squeezed into the gaps.

i like them apples

Back when it was summer, I got an issue of Fine Cooking in the mail and tucked it into my bag. It would make for great reading on my flight to Seattle. It did make me somewhat nervous though. I mean, on the cover were the words “The Cook’s Guide to Thanksgiving” which instills just a little bit of panic because Thanksgiving is the end of November and wasn’t it just March the other day?

butter makes great pastry

pulsing in the egg and water

I see glorious food porn all the time. It’s part of what I do. I’ve gotten to the point where it generally doesn’t phase me, but the recipe for Tarte Tatin in the Fine Cooking issue hijacked my brain for a good many days. I already had several recipes shot and lined up to share over the course of the next two months because my schedule is fraught with travel and commitments, and yet I had to make this last week before my road trip.

the dough is ready if it holds when pinched

roll the dough out after chilling

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: mexican wedding cookies

Yeah, I’ll pick u up! 1:15?

I looked at the text message on my iphone and then put it away. If Beth says 1:15, then she’ll more likely arrive around 1:30. That’s fine. We’d have plenty of time to get to the wedding. Plus it would be good to see Beth. I joked on Facebook that I was flying out to Seattle to see Beth, who lives 30 minutes away from me in Boulder. I hardly saw her all summer – we’ve both been so busy – but now she was going to be my date to the wedding since both of our fellas couldn’t make the trip.

By 1:45 I was starting to worry, but there she appeared and we hopped into the car!

“So do you know where the wedding is?” Beth asked as she began to drive in a general northwest direction. I navigated from my phone map and we were doing fine until the draw bridge began to… draw… up.

“Was 2:00 when we were supposed to get there or when the ceremony starts?” I asked. Eventually the boat passed under the bridge. Eventually we began moving again. When we made it to the park, Beth changed into her dress while I blocked the view between passersby and the driver’s seat. Just as she changed her shoes, I noticed a stream of people file out of the bathhouse toward the beach.

“Beth! Let’s go!!”

We hustled after the line and stood among familiar smiling faces. I dropped my pack in the sand and loaded my cameras, grateful for the moment that I wasn’t the hired photographer for this wedding. My dear friends, Andrew and Nicole, entered the grove of trees.

loved ones look on

listening to the welcome

exchanging vows

sealing the deal

As most of my friends know, I am not a fan of weddings. Perhaps I’m mellowing with age (doubtful) or maybe it’s because the people I’m closest to seem to throw the weddings that are the least offensive to my sensibilities – but it was a beautiful ceremony and I found myself suddenly overcome with happiness for my friends. I learned something that day. I can’t manual focus to save my life when my vision is blurred by tears.

amazing pizzas

andrea is diggin’ the ice cream

the bride gets her dessert

Back in the bathhouse, there were appetizers, wine, and beer. Andrew and Nicole are quite the beer aficionados. Instead of champagne flutes, they had crystal beer flutes. Dinner was catered by some terrific portable wood-fired oven pizza folks Veraci Pizza (thanks for the link, Nicole!) and the Molly Moon ice cream truck (same dude who served us at IFBC 2010!). Honestly, some of the better food I’ve enjoyed at a wedding. I ate five pieces of pizza… hey, they were super thin crust!

the bride is allowed some help while slack-lining

beth partakes in throwing disc

cute little baby gets in on the beach fun too

After slurping down their ice creams (in my case: watermelon sorbet), people wandered over to the slack line, grabbed frisbees from the box, took out the bocce ball set (a game you can play with a beer in your hand), and generally expanded out onto the beach. The National Weather Service said it would rain and then Sunday morning “PSYCHE!” – they changed the forecast to partly cloudy with a little glowing sun peeking through the clouds as their icon.

dahlias as the sun dropped toward the ocean

congratulations, you two! xo

So when I made these cookies last week, I had not made the connection between the name Mexican wedding cookies and the fact that I was about to attend a wedding. It’s curious because I don’t make cookies all that much any more and because I generally don’t attend weddings unless I’m shooting them. Actually, these are also known as Russian tea cakes or pecan sandies rolled in powdered sugar. I informed Nicole and several others that this would be the next recipe on the blog and everyone sort of moaned “I love those cookies!”

the nut: pecans

buttah, flour, powdered sugar

I always think that I don’t love these cookies because they are shortbready which makes me think “dry”. But then I make a batch and eat one for quality control and I’m surprised at how good they are. Well, it is probably in my best interest that I keep thinking they aren’t a lovely little morsel to pop in your mouth. However, I implore you to make these if you haven’t tried them yet. They’re super easy to make too.

some homemade vanilla

the chopped pecans

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: chocolate espresso crème brûlée

I got up before sunrise and tip-toed around the house this morning. We dipped below freezing overnight. Sticking my nose to the open window, I took several shallow sniffs then one deep inhale. No smoke. Scanning to the east I saw clear skies. The absolute best news? Calm winds. This in contrast to yesterday morning’s hostile 60 mph gusts that slapped our aspens around like rag dolls, ripping leaves off the branches. We found some wood siding from our house had been torn off by the winds as well. At noon, Manisha emailed to ask if we were all right. There was a fire near Boulder Canyon.

It’s September. In parts of the American West, this is synonymous with fire season: the driest (we had 4% humidity yesterday) and sometimes hottest time of year. Toss strong winds and bone dry vegetation in, and you are primed for a fire. We are no strangers to fire season having lived at the boundary of the Angeles National Forest in Southern California. The price one pays to live in Awesome. I hopped on Twitter and the stream of information was flowing fast. Boulder is a good place to be on Twitter. Those crazy winds whipped the wildfire into a nightmare starting in Four-Mile Canyon. It quickly spread in almost all directions and we followed news of evacuations and road closures. Good citizens updated maps in real-time or tweeted updates from the police scanner. When the reverse 911 system failed, authorities asked people on Twitter spread the word that they were going door to door to evacuate.

Smaller fires popped up around the area, but were quickly put out. It was the big one, now called the Emerson Gulch Fire, that was consuming homes and whole neighborhoods. If you look at the satellite imagery of the area, the houses are not next door to each other – they are scattered about, in the woods and canyons/mountains. It’s rough and rugged terrain (people are not on municipal services there – they have giant propane tanks for heating… which explode in wildfires). If someone dropped you into that scenario where several fronts are threatened, how do you go about deciding what to save, what to defend? It’s heartbreaking. That firestorm was so bad, the only thing authorities could focus on was evacuation. Photographs, video, descriptions and links to more information poured in on the hashtag #boulderfire. We watched as the evacuation zone expanded, inching closer to our home.

smoke from the fire was the only cloud in all of colorado (taken at dusk looking east)

When the zone was within 6 miles of our house and authorities closed Boulder Canyon, we began to gather our things. Things are just things. As I packed up letters from and photos of my sister, I realized that the only “things” I could not do without are Jeremy and Kaweah. The rest – even those cherished items that I had of Kris – I could let go of. But while we had the time, we packed what we might need if we had to evacuate and if ultimately the house was lost. [For those of you with an invested digital existence, it’s a handy thing to have an external drive (updated daily) to unplug and grab.] Without a doubt, my mind turned to Ivory Hut who just last week lost all of her worldly possessions to a fire. Thankfully, the winds had calmed considerably since the morning and tankers were finally able to fly in the waning light before nightfall grounded them.

the plume of smoke rising into the evening sky

By last night, the evacuation zone had extended again – to within 2 miles of our home. Evac zone and fire are not the same things, mind you, but we were ready. Here is an incredible time-lapse shot from Flagstaff Mountain last night. Right now Boulder lies choking under a blanket of smoke from the fire. I’m trying to reconcile those images with the clear, sunny day we are experiencing just west of the fire. Our hope is for containment. Thank you for all of your concerned and caring tweets, FB messages and comments, and emails. We are sending good juju to the victims of the fire and the incredible rescue, firefighting, and relief personnel.

Life goes on. My dear friend, Andrew, is leaving today to travel the world for a year, or two, or six. Boulder will miss you, Andrew. We will miss you. Thanks for spending an evening with us on Sunday. Thanks for being such a Force of Good in the community. Safe and remarkable travels, friend. Come back to us any time.

andrew on the terrace at the flagstaff house

perusing the wine list (the guys got cocktails instead)

crab- and salmon-stuffed squash blossoms with caviar (zomgdelicious!)

Well now, there is a recipe after all. This one dates back to my pre-blog days when I had a static website. I have a little sticky note (the virtual kind, not a paper sticky) on my desktop telling me to transfer some of those old recipes over. I think it might be one of Jeremy’s favorites.

chocolate, of course

espresso powder and cream

Chocolate espresso crème brûlée. The chocolate and espresso are enough to win most folks over, but crème brûlée will surely round up the rest of the holdouts. Crème brûlée is one of the more annoying things to have to type out, so I’m glad the fabulosity of the dessert itself far outweighs any inconvenience experienced in writing about it.

add chopped chocolate to the hot cream

whisking egg yolks, sugar, and vanilla

**Jump for more butter**