Sorry about the current state of the blog. I have a few entries queued up about and ready to go, which explains the lack of writing lately. The appearance, well, an update to the newest version of Movable Type and my pathetic attempts to give the site a facelift ended in the disaster you see before you. Richard, because he is kind and fabulous, has offered to help me fix it, and I just need to get my act together.

It may be a while, kids, I'm on the road again.

Those of you who know me should now be thinking, “But wait, Schelley, you almost never eat chicken and you hate broccoli. What is up with that?”

Well, two things are up with that.

First, as some of you may know, I regularly try foods that I think I don’t like. Several years ago, I read that in many cases, our food dislikes are childhood relics, and often, we have no idea why we don’t like a specific food. So, we just say we don’t like it, without ever trying and tasting. I’ve known for years that I hate the smell of steamed broccoli, and thus, avoided it in all other forms.

However, I’ve gradually worked my way towards broccoli. I started eating broccolini about four years ago, which I believe is a broccoli relation. I’ve always liked Chinese broccoli, which I think is closer to spinach than broccoli. I’m happily loving brussel sprouts, a cross between cabbage and broccoli. And not that long ago, I ate broccoli fried in parmesan and added to a salad (I should note that the pieces were too small to pick out and I could really only taste the delicious parmesan). Over the past few months, I’ve eaten broccoli a few times in Thai stir-fries. And then a few weeks ago, I bought a head at the Farmer’s Market and added some florets to my own stir-fry.

And for the moment in this picture: sautéed up with garlic, a splash of balsamic and some parmesan for diversity. It was quite good. I still won’t eat it steamed – the smell is too noxious – but yes, I’m getting there.

Second, it’s a well known fact that I’m not a big chicken fan. About once a year, I’ll cook chicken, usually a component of another dish (like chicken biryani). Once in a while, a chicken dish will catch my eye in the cafeteria and I’ll succumb. But for the most part, it’s no chicken for me. It tastes, well, not like chicken. It’s chalky and bland and often kind of crumbly. I think I ate too much in my childhood. And, we’ve been sucked into believing that chicken is healthy; according to the Overall Nutritional Quality Index, (a new food point system just beginning to roll out, check out the ratings), it isn’t that healthy. Chicken has become the basis of many, many meals; I’m always surprised at how many dishes I can eliminate from the menu by saying no to chicken. I’ve also observed that the bigger the chain, the more chicken on the menu.

However, the Cap Hill farmer's market features a chicken vendor. Recently, I bought a dozen beautiful eggs, and found bright yellow yolks, not the pale yellow that we’ve been conditioned to think is a normal egg yolk. Those are real eggs, coming from real chickens that scrounge around for bugs and mites. After a few weeks of thought, I succumbed, bought a bird, and cooked it, using Cooks French Chicken in a Pot recipe.

The chicken was good, and tasted exactly like chicken should taste – like chicken. Not chalky, not salty from injected preservatives, not rubbery. All things considered, it was delicious. But I’m not sure how much I really like the bird. If I’m going with fowl, I really think I’d prefer duck. Or if not fowl, then pork or beef or lamb. I think I’m just not a chicken person…but I’ll keep trying periodically, just to make sure.

For the chicken: easy, easy…salt and pepper the bird, add some olive oil to a dutch oven, heat up, brown the bird, along with some chopped onion, celery, a few garlic cloves and sprig of rosemary. Once browned, cover with foil and the lid, and throw in the oven on low heat until the chicken is done. While the chicken is resting, strain the juice and let it sit to separate the fats, then reheat gently with a tablespoon or two of fresh lemon juice. Carve the chicken, and serve with the chicken au jus.

The stuffed tomato: I seeded, then salted a tomato and let the liquid drain off. I had some stale bread, so I soaked it in water long enough to crumble, then sautéed the bread crumbs in olive oil. After, I mixed up with handful of herbs – parsely, cilantro, mint – added some parmesan and salt and pepper, stuffed the tomato with the breadcrumb filling and baked. Tasty.

For those of you who are curious, my two no go foods are peaches and bananas. I was forced to eat peaches when I was about 10 years old, in one of those classic mother/daughter power struggles, and since, have absolutely hated the smell, look and taste of peaches. The banana dislike saddens me – it’s a convenient fruit. It started early – one of a handful of pre-age 4 memories is of eating a banana on my Grandma Olhava’s patio, feeling queasy and then throwing up. The smell of bananas is noxious enough to keep me away from that fruit. And for future reference, if you try to fool me as Pete did a few months ago, well, do so at your own risk – he convinced me that his fruit smoothie didn’t have banana in it, I sucked down a swig, tasted banana and reacted so violently that we are lucky we didn’t get into a car accident. I can taste bananas in anything. Ahem.

While ringing up our purchases, the sales lady wanted to know if Lisa and I were purchasing from our registries. “No,” we said, rolling our eyes. She then looked at us, and while what happened next is still disputed, I do believe she thought we were a couple. After all, if you aren’t getting married and/or setting up house with a new partner, why would you randomly purchase a set of flatware?

BTW, later that same night, we made margaritas, using a new recipe. In a pitcher filled with ice, add a can of lime-aid concentrate, fill the empty can with tequila, add to the mix, then pour in two bottles of Corona. Add a few pinches of salt, mix together and enjoy. Recipe courtesy of Tony and Real Simple.

He picked the 250-Mile Diet theme, which meant that everything we cooked could be found within 250 miles of Seattle (this is a new food trend, emphasizing local farmers markets and trying to eliminate the “I’m eating organic grapes that were flown in from Chile” issue). On the day of our class, Gabe, the chef/owner hit the farmer’s market, bought a bunch of ingredients, and we, as a group, decided how to use those ingredients. Then, aided with wine, we went to work, and cooked, managing to use almost every single ingredient on the table. It all came together at the end, with every dish completed just in time for us to sit down and feast.

Here’s what we made, including my participation and a few recipes:

Frittata. Rachele and I chopped up and sautéed dandelion greens and fresh onions, mixed in some chard and spinach, added a bunch of eggs, goat milk cheese and raw jersey milk. It was delicate, rich and delicious. We probably should have sautéed the spinach and chard, but alas, wires were crossed and it didn’t happen.

Ground lamb stuffed peppers. A nice spin on chile rellenos, delicious stuffed with ground lamb, breadcrumbs, hard goat cheese, seasonings and other stuff, and topped with sautéed fresh tomatoes. We also had the vegetarian variety, which I didn’t eat with dinner, but brought home and feasted on the next day. Just as yummy as the meat filled ones.

Roasted beets with blackberries. Someone roasted the beets, and once done, peeled and sliced, laid in a platter, salted, peppered and olive oiled and sprinkled fresh blackberries on top. Someone needed to smash the blackberries – the beet and blackberry juices were meant to meld – and that honor went to me.

Pappardalle with arugula pesto. One of the chefs made fresh pasta (a simple recipe along the lines of flour, 2 eggs and a yolk, salt, something else), the pasta rested, and then Melissa used the super powerful Kitchen-Aid pasta maker attachment to create pappardelle (I sense a wedding registry gift). Someone else made arugula pesto. The pasta was delicious, I was sort of lukewarm on the pesto. But I’m also not a pesto and pasta fan…

Ratatouille, redux, with corn. We had eggplant, peppers, onions, basil, the stuff of ratatouille. The veggies were grilled, plus fresh corn, then mixed heirloom tomatoes and some sort of dressing. Delicious.

Clams and mussels with bacon. Gavin and Elaine learned how to debeard mussels. They then made some sort of delicious smelling onion, bacon and wine (plus, I’m sure other ingredients) base, added the shellfish and let it all steam together. Oh. My. Goodness. So wonderful.

Fried squash blossoms and broad beans. Finally, I learned how to fry squash blossoms, much easier than I even thought. Combine a cup of flour and a generous pinch of salt, mix in enough Pellegrino to create a thin batter, dredge the squash blossoms and fry in about two inches of oil until nicely golden (we used vegetable, but you can use almost any type of oil). Drain on paper towels, sprinkle with salt and enjoy. I am now a huge fan of squash blossoms.

Roasted potatoes with sea salt. We used the small little nubby potatoes.

Salad with strawberries and goat cheese. No real explanation needed here, except that I made a mustard and balsamic-based dressing with crème freche.

Oh, and Mike’s Amazing Cake for dessert and grilled peaches (I skipped the peaches). Not only was the cake pretty, decorated with a picture of the birthday boy, but it was also delicious.

I'm looking forward to going back - it will be fun to take classes that focus on new styles of cooking. I think I heard a confit class discussed, and it looks like there are a number of regional cuisine classes offered.

Finally, a pic of me, with the squash blossoms. Yeah!

Here are the rules:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating. (These are italicized, mainly because I don't have the crossout feature in the blogging tool I'm using.)
4) Optional extra: Post a comment linking to your results.

Here we go. I've added comments to each one.

1. Venison: I remember eating freshly killed venison chicken fried steak style. A few years ago at Boulevard, Nilay, Carrie, Emil and I feasted on venison carpaccio.
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros: I lived in the Bay Area until 2 1/2 years ago. I adore!
4. Steak tartare: I love. Huge thanks to Bryan for introducing me to this one.
5. Crocodile: Does alligator count? If it does, than it's a yes.
6. Black pudding. Every morning for breakfast in Ireland when I was there in May. Delicious.
7. Cheese fondue. Fondue is an Olhava Christmas Eve tradition, and once Ed and I reached cooking maturity, it became all about the cheese fondue. One of the things that I miss about family holidays.
8. Carp
9. Borscht. I lived in St. Petersburg for a summer. I love beets. One of my favorite meals ever, at a monastery, involved borscht and pelmeni (Russian style ravioli)
10. Baba ghanoush. Mashed up eggplant with garlic, lemon and tahini. What is not to love?
11. Calamari. The fried tentacles are my favorites.
12. Pho. Someday, I'll learn to make proper pho.
13. PB&J sandwich. Um, duh. I'm a white girl from the suburbs.
14. Aloo gobi.
15. Hot dog from a street cart.. In NYC. And at the ball park.
16. Epoisses. I had to look this one up - it's unpasteurized cow's milk cheese. And it's delicious, or at least the unpasteurized version, as I live in a country that is mortally afraid of any sort of germ.
17. Black truffle. Absolutely any chance. In the meantime, I have truffle salt to augment everything.
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes. Rhubarb wine. Not that great.
19. Steamed pork buns. Mmmm...
20. Pistachio ice cream. Maybe as a child, but I really can't remember.
21. Heirloom tomatoes. Of course!
22. Fresh wild berries. During my first Seattle summer, I picked them off the side of the street while walking home from the gym. Then someone pointed out that they probably weren't very good for me, considering the exhaust from the freeway a few feet away. And of course, Grandma Luttrell would pick buckets of berries by the creek when I was a child.
23. Foie gras . At almost every opportunity.
24. Rice and beans. One of my favorite Mexican food staples.
25. Brawn, or head cheese. I honestly don't know. I did slice it when I spent two summers working at the Vallergas deli.
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper. No - that stuff is HOT. As in, wear plastic gloves when cutting. No way it's going in my mouth.
27. Dulce de leche. Mmmmmm...
28. Oysters. Any opportunity.
29. Baklava . Delicious. About a year ago, someone at work brought in the Turkish variety. I fell in love all over again. Honey: human's original sugar.
30. Bagna cauda. I also had to look this up. Sounds delicious, but not yet. It's on my list.
31. Wasabi peas. I wonder how many cocktail sized bowls I ate in Dublin at the Westbury with my Guinness?
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl. The San Francisco tradition.
33. Salted lassi.
34. Sauerkraut. I'm Polish, of course I adore sauerkraut.
35. Root beer float.
36. Cognac with a fat cigar. Does this count if you've had each, but separately?
37. Clotted cream tea. I'm assuming that this refers to the traditional English tea, and yes. Most memorable: the Pump Room at Bath.
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O. Thanks to Kanaka, every year at Big Game.
39. Gumbo.
40. Oxtail. I love oxtail. Quinn's does an exceptional job. Some day, I'll be brave enough to cook it at home (the recipe from Like Water for Chocolate has ALWAYS tempted me)
41. Curried goat. Surprisingly, no.
42. Whole insects. Unless I didn't know.
43. Phaal. I'm going to italicize this one. I think I had it with Nilay and Jai in Bath, but am not quite sure.
44. Goat’s milk. I just ate Goat's milk cheese last night!
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more. Maybe when tasting at the Jameson distillery, but no. I have a whiskey drinking partner at work, and am thinking it's time to start dropping some hints.
46. Fugu. Almost an italic, but I've heard it's an amazing culinary experience.
47. Chicken tikka masala . I consider this dish Indian for beginners. It's actually not really Indian, the British invented it, and now it vies with fish and chips as the #1 dish in England.
48. Eel. Sushi staple. And some delicious eel at Quinn's a few weeks ago.
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin. Had it, hated it.
51. Prickly pear. Not a prickly pear, but does the syrup that Richard uses to make me margaritas count?
52. Umeboshi. No, but I want to try these Japanese pickled fruits.
53. Abalone. A great thing about living near the California coast. I remember eating growing up.
54. Paneer. Mmmm..saag paneer.
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal. Once, when I was in high school, because I had a coupon. I don't remember how it tastes, and doubt I'll ever have another one as I hate almost everything that McDonald's stands for.
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini. I'm going to say vodka counts as I rarely drink gin.
58. Beer above 8% ABV. Did you really think I wouldn't bold this one?
59. Poutine. Featured on Smith's menu. A Canadian dish combining fries, gravy and curds, baked into delicious goodness. (Smith does a similar dish, also with demi glace and if you're especially decadent, foie gras.)
60. Carob chips. Nature's chocolate, to quote Kitty Forman.
61. S’mores. It would be more often if I did nature activities, like camping. I also make a killer S'mores ice cream cake.
62. Sweetbreads. I'm thinking menudo counts. And I have a feeling that I've had sweetbreads, just don't know where. Sweetbreads were a standard menu item at the Napa Valley Inn, my family's favorite restaurant growing up, where we had a waitress who knew us, knew our drink orders and our food preferences.
63. Kaolin. It's clay and mud, sometimes mixed in with food. No, although if the apocalypse hits, then maybe I'll revisit.
64. Currywurst
65. Durian. Never eaten, but want to try. Must remember next time I'm at an Asian market.
66. Frogs’ legs. Amazingly, I've never eaten. Someday.
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake. Beignets in New Orleans. Churros at a fair. Yummy sugary goodness.
68. Haggis. I ate every morning for breakfast in Scotland. Delicious. When seasoned properly, organ meat is some of the best stuff for you.
69. Fried plantain. Interesting that I despise bananas (practically made a co-worker leave a conference room to finish eating her banana a few weeks ago), but prepared properly, I think plantains are lovely. Especially the ones that I ate with almost every single meal in Panama.
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette. Pork intestines. I don't think so, but they sound delicious.
71. Gazpacho. This reminds me - it's August and time to make gazpacho.
72. Caviar and blini. Mmmm...ultimate decadence, particularly with some good champagne or vodka.
73. Louche absinthe. Can I tell you how excited I am that absinthe is now legal in the U.S.?
74. Gjetost, or brunost. Oh yeah, baby. Stinky cheese.
75. Roadkill. I'm fairly certain I ate cat the summer I lived in Russia. Kittens played in the restaurant we frequented, and then one day, they were gone...and we had a lot of meat in our stew.
76. Baijiu. Not yet, although it sounds quite similar to shoju, a bottle of which I have in my liquor cabinet waiting for me to crack open.
77. Hostess Fruit Pie . I can honestly say I have never had one. And I probably never well - the hostess fruit pie goes against all of my non-processed food rules.
78. Snail. It tastes like steak, with garlic and butter
79. Lapsang souchong. Can't get past the smell.
80. Bellini. The only reason this is a no is because I absolutely hate peaches (Parents, never, ever force your children to eat food they find disgusting. Trust me, it will scar them in ways you never imagined). But every other sort of champagne and juice combination is loved, including the standard mimosa, the poinsetta (cranberry and champagne) and pomegranate juice and champagne.
81. Tom yum. Thai. Yum, indeed.
82. Eggs Benedict. A staple at Venus Cafe.
83. Pocky.
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant. The French Laundry! I'm surprised De Kas isn't the Michellin list.
85. Kobe beef. So delicious.
86. Hare. For some reason, I'm thinking rabbit does not count.
87. Goulash
88. Flowers. Edible ones are delicious, on drinks, in salads...
89. Horse. I'm conflicted. I've heard that horse fat makes the best french fries ever, but not sure I can eat Flicka's friend, even though they do scare me.
90. Criollo chocolate. I'm not exactly sure what kind of chocolate this is, but considering the amount of chocolate I've consumed in 35 years, I have had to had this.
91. Spam. I ate fried up as a kid. Not such a big fan as an adult, but admit that I love it as musubi (Hawaiian way on rice)
92. Soft shell crab. Mostly, in spider roles.
93. Rose harissa. In Morocco, a few years ago.
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano. Mmmm...mole...
96. Bagel and lox.
97. Lobster Thermidor. I believe I have, maybe at the French Laundry (or at least a variant).
98. Polenta. A staple in my house.
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. Not yet.
100. Snake. I may have, in Hawaii when I was 17. But I don't know.

Twenty items that I haven't tried. Two that I won't eat. Not as impressive as I would have thought, but gives me some culinary goals.

A few things are missing from this list: brains (no, but want to try); kim chee (Korean pickled cabbage, absolutely delicious); raw quail eggs (excellent on sushi); squid ink (deep and dark flavor, reflective of the color); red beans (as in the Asian dessert variety); marrow; a Twinkie; pickled lemon; pickled herring ... do you have any others?

Sitting an extra day on this post gave me some time to think. My first thoughts were around the completeness of this list - it seems to be a bit heavy on the Western food experience, and really, not that obscure or exotic. Come on, who hasn't tried chicken tikka masala? And where are some of the more obscure Indian and Asian dishes?

But then, it occurred to me, for many people, this food list is exotic. Even though I think chicken tikka masala is beginner's Indian, a lot of people probably would never try it. It contains odd spices, it's not American, it, and so many others on this list, push the boundaries of what we consider "normal" or "acceptable". I forget that not everyone shares my attitude of "try everything". Or find out ingredients and immediately hate a dish because it contains something they think they don't like. Or live in a geographic area where Olive Garden is the epitomy of good Italian food.

I guess acceptable food is in the eye of the beholder. But really, people's unwillingness to try the unfamiliar kills me.

--If you ever go tubing, avoid families by showing up after 1:00, spring for the floating cooler, and plan on stopping somewhere along the river bank for something from that floating cooler. Despite taking not having taken my words of wisdom, tubing down the Shenandoah was pretty cool, both from a "hey, I'm tubing" and temperature sense. Plus, the historical nature of the Shenandoah, including historic battlefields, was somewhat inspiring. And then, a very nice picnic after with Tony's excellent potato casserole, my new favorite grape/feta/mint picnic salad and a few other treats.
--Baltimore is a shell of a city. It feels depressed. Beautiful row houses are boarded up and disintegrating. Crime is rampant. With the exception of a few blocks, the city is dead at night. A few people are trying...and the rest aren't. As you'd expect, the food scene is pretty sad. I did have good Afghani food (thank you Tony) and very nice brunch at Jillian's (at the free to the public at all times Baltimore City Art Museum, thank you Julie). I really do thank the visionaries of Seattle and San Francisco (plus the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake) for ensuring that I'm able to live in such vibrant, lovely cities.
--If you're going to Baltimore, don't fly into Reagen International. It turns out that despite being in a colony where it's easy to knock through 5 states in a day, Reagen isn't that close to anything, except the capitol.
--Morton's in Bethesda is overpriced and not worth it. I'm also trying not to be bitter that the bartender didn't tell me about the burger special (Sunday nights only, delicious looking hamburger with sides and fries, all proceeds for some children's fundraiser, the plates coming out of the kitchen looked far better than my crab cake and chopped salad).
--I've gone on two business trips with Char. Both times, I've ended up sick. We now share an office. I think I need to start watching my back.

Now, to the real point of this blog. Denver. Or more specifically, the $0.75 tamale.

With the exception of the airport, I've never spent any time in Denver. Tracy has always sung its praises, and I've heard many good things about Colorado in general. After spending a few days in Denver, I have to agree, it's pretty damn cool.

Twenty years ago, someone had a dream. The downtown area is revitalized, seamlessly blending commercial stores and restaurants with Old Frontier construction, especially once you get past the commercial strip; the frontier buildings reminded me of downtown Napa and Yreka, both also frontier towns. The Denver Arts area intermingles effortlessly with the Capitol building (did you know before reading this entry that Denver is the capitol of Colorado?), the Colorado river and the convention center (where the Democrats are heading). And amazingly, unlike other areas, such as LA and Seattle, the convention center doesn't look like it was dropped into the middle of the city, but rather, thoughtfully integrated within what already existed.

Tracy briefly mentioned that Denver has good Mexican food, which immediately set my foodie instincts aflutter. While walking to Tamayo, a very tasty and slightly upscale Mexican restaurant for lunch (so good, we ate there twice), we passed a few carts selling a selection of burritos and tamales. Street food, in my opinion, can only be good...and the next day, we were stopped. If it were bad, we reasoned, we would have only spent $1.50. If it was good, that would be $1.50 of deliciousness.

Luckily for us, the red chile pork tamale was in that second category.

The masa was the perfect blend of not too dry, but moist enough to stay together. The pork was braised, slightly spicy in the red pepper sauce. I fell in love on the spot, practically choking back tears as I ate. Pure perfection, wrapped in a corn husk. The tamale was worth more than $0.75, in my mind.

"I'm going to buy some to take home," I told Char, and promptly marched up to the seller. A conversation later, he promised me that I'd have two dozen to take home the next day, a dozen of the green chile and cheese, a dozen of the red chile and pork. He claimed the chile and cheese were "very good", and who was I to doubt the man that had brought me red chile pork tamales? Char and I decided to split the cache.

See that picture below? Look closely. That's my suitcase, holding a dozen delicious green chile and cheese tamales. I have always kept a few gallon size ziploc bags in my suitcase for emergencies, of what sort, I didn't know until now. Tamale emergencies.

Tonight, I made a grilled tomato salsa and guacamole, heated up a few tamales, and feasted. The dish, prefeast, in the picture below. Tomorrow night, I'm looking forward to the pork tamales. Good Mexican food...so hard to find here, so delicious (and cheap) elsewhere.

By the way, we had to stay in the Denver Ritz Carlton. Powers outside of my control upgraded me to a suite, which was only slightly smaller than my condo. I gave the five-minute tour of my suite: sitting room, bedroom (most comfy hotel bed ever), dressing room and giant bathroom. Two HD TVs meant some serious Olympic viewing time, reminding me that it's time to upgrade from the analog and rabbit ears to HD for football season. Oh, and Elway's oatmeal brulee, delicious. Think creme brulee, but with creamy oatmeal enclosed in the warm sugar crust.

Quinn's calls itself a gastropub, which means that the traditional pub food is there, but elevated to another level. Rarebit? That's served as a warm pretzel with a complex cheese sauce. Salad, yes, but spiced up with new ingredients; my favorite is the bread salad, with fennel, radishes, olives, cucumbers, lettuce and of course, grilled bread. Hamburger...wagyu beef with a pile of delicious fries. Meat, in the form of braised oxtails with gnocchi. Foul, duck confit. Bangers and mash, elevated to a housemade sausage with lentils. Fish, in the form of scallops. Braised eel. Oh, and the list continues...

A few weeks ago, I ended up at Quinns three times in one week, once with my brother, once with Gabe, Jess, Lisa and Tracy, and once again with Lisa, plus Andy, as they helped me snap out of a blue funk with good food and drink. It was an excellent weeklong adventure...Along the way, I snapped a picture of the salad and savory cheesecake, with fresh raspberries and a raspberry dressing. Oh, delicious. The photo looks delicious, the taste is even better.

BTW, I met the head chef in the bathroom line. A Boston Southie, polite enough to want me to cut ahead of him in line. "No," I insisted. "You are feeding all of us. I can't go ahead of you."

So not surprising, when Pete suggested having dinner at his house, I went to work. He foolishly assumed that I'd bring dishes already premade, but alas, he was wrong, and I may have done some non-permanent damage to his kitchen. It was worth it - I made the very excellent grilled vegetable bread salad and satisfying blueberry cobbler. Thanks to Paul for cooking the vegetables, and helping to cement the vegetable salad as one of my favorite recipes of the summer (made even better by the fact that all of the ingredients can be found at my local farmer's market).

Here's the grilled vegetable salad recipe, from Cooks Illustrated. First, dressing. Lemon juice, balsamic vinegar, garlic, olive oil, dijon mustard, fresh thyme, salt, pepper. Then, cut up, mix, olive oil up and grill bell peppers, red onions, zucchini and eggplant (my favorite); when done, toss with some dressing. Also, toss spring lettuce with the dressing. Think ratatouille, minus the basil. Also, grill a piece of bread along the way. On a pretty plate, layer the bread, lettuce and vegetables, top with shaved parmesan and enjoy the deliciousness.

I liked the summer salad so much, the next day, I cleaned out the fridge, went to the store and made a super gigantic batch. I've made two salads, and last night, tried to make a dent in my phyllo dough (long story, never get recipe inspirations after a few too many greyhounds when you live within stumbling distance of a grocery store) by wrapping the vegetables and a generous portion of goat cheese in the dough. Delicious.

Sadly, my salad pictures did not turn out. But, here are some of the phyllo dough pics for you to envision and think about (plus, if you're really curious, either come to my house for dinner and let me recreate, or look at the Cooks Illustrated picture).

I also have enough vegetables left for something else. I'm thinking a spin of Carrie's vegetable tart, with pie dough wrapped around the veggies and cheese.

First, Pete, carpool driver for the day, forgot me, leaving me stranded at work. I took the Connector (Microsoft's superb employee bus service), but to get to the pickup stop, had to slog through gushing rain. I was soaked when I reached the bus stop. Ironically, I took my umbrella out of my bag that morning, thinking that it was too much dead weight.

Then, a few hours later, while talking on the phone, I heard a weird dripping noise. It took me a few minutes to realize that it wasn't nature, but inside my home. Drat, I thought. The damn windows are leaking again. Then I realized that the sound was coming from the bathroom. Water was pouring out of the ceiling fan. My home had turned into the final chapter of Solaris.

As a positive, I met my upstairs neighbors, who are very nice and friendly. We think we've figured out the problem, which while it's going to need to be fixed, isn't one of those "uh-oh, we can't use the shower for days and days" types of problems.

All night, I dreamed the sounds of gushing water. That may have been the real rain, playing with my dreams.

This morning, halfway through my shower, the water suddenly stopped draining. For. No. Reason. Whatsoever. Jiggling the plug did nothing. Now, I own a plunger and half a bottle of highly corrosive and toxic drain unclogging agent. It turns out that dropping little nubs of soap down the drain is not a good idea; we theorized that the little bit of thin bar that I dropped yesterday wedged itself horizontally in the drain, the perfect size to completely block all water flow.

Is it just me, or has water been a theme over the past 24 hours?

My brother and sister-in-law had planned an outdoor wedding, but at the last minute, moved inside because of dark and menacing clouds. That was a wise decision, because we could hear the mad pounding of raindrops throughout the entire ceremony. I remember the rabbi saying that in the Judaic tradition, water is a sign of luck, happiness, success.

Hmmm...

About the lack of blogging. I have sooo much to write about, and I don't know when it's going to get done. Really, it's been work. I've been on a project that has stretched for eons, and lately, has caused me so much gray hair and angst and upset, that bad feelings have spilled over into all parts of my life. Things have been better over the past week, in part because my very understanding manager, who realized just how bad it has been when I said, "I have not been this bitter and cynical about anything related to work since I left IDC", made an executive decision that I am to transition off as soon as possible. Happy days will soon return.

Perhaps the water is bringing good tidings.

For dinner…I grilled blue cheese burgers and thick sliced red onions spread with bbq sauce after each flip (the onions are a favorite, and always perfect for grilled burgers, the heat and basted bbq sauce combination results in nicely caramelized wedges of delicousness). Sides were provided courtesy of Lisa and Jess, using Mark Bittman’s 101 20-Minute Dishes for Inspired Picnics, published July 2 in the NY Times.

Dish #1, which I think was my favorite:

7 GRAPES AND CHEESE Mix feta cubes and green grapes (or grape tomatoes or pieces of watermelon). Add mint, salt, pepper and olive oil. A tiny bit of chopped fresh chili is good, too.

The briny feta perfectly complements the sweet grapes. We decided that crumbled feta would work, but cubing a block gave it a much better taste, and the structure of a huge chunk of feta in your mouth with the bright sweet grape was just too good.

Dish #2, which rivals #1 for my favorite (note the ending “yes”, to be interpreted any way you choose):

60 Toss cornbread cubes with blueberries, lemon juice, olive oil and hazelnuts. Yes.

Yes. Yes, indeed. The dish sounds weird, and I raised my eye brows when reading the description. But it ab-so-lute-ly worked. I can't describe, but the combination all together was well, positively delicious. The only thing that could make it even better is the addition of freshly whipped cream, but it really isn't necessary. We also poured cassis on top, which decidedly changed the flavor (Jess loved it, Lisa and I were a bit less than neutral on the cassis infused dish).

Dish #3, which was good, but was missing something (the olives, actually; the next day addition of olives and more anchovies gave the dish that added punch):

33 Toss cooked or canned white beans with chopped seeded tomato, chopped anchovy, chopped olives, oil, lemon juice, lots of black pepper, salt if necessary and parsley.

Notice anything unusual about the recipes? Yep…no proportions. All 101 picnic recipes are similar – just mix stuff together, rely on your instincts and taste buds and have fun. Once I realized that only the barest, most essential information was listed, I understood his point: we can be creative on our own. And remembered that many of the best family-passed down recipes are similar, throw the ingredients together, rely on your instincts for measurement and enjoy.

I also felt like cupcakes...and made orange chiffon cupcakes with orange glaze. They didn't quite rise properly, but were still light and delicious, and as Lisa noted, "almost like angel food cake". Oh, and margaritas to drink, because nothing says 4th of July like a few batches of tangy margaritas.

And yes, I did watch the fireworks. We had a perfect view of the Space Needle Fireworks, plus a great view of Lake Union. And, most perfectly, the "not bolted to the roof" rooftop deck did not slide off of the building..huzzah!

PS: Notice the pretty blue wall? And the orange chair. I've ordered a new kitchen table, and since I didn't like the "suggested chairs", decided to go fun with funky chairs. Thus, saffron chairs, and probably some laminate ones too. We'll see. And of course, the table needs to arrive.

For example, Sunday night's dinner: a grilled t-bone and veggies with grilled lemon vinaigrette. And perfect with the very tasty and chewy 2006 Chono Cabernet from Chile’s Maipo Valley (wherever that is).

Here's how to cook everything, courtesy Cooks Illlustrated.

For the T-bone, salt heavily and let sit at room temperature for an hour. Add some pepper, grill for 6 minutes on each side with the tenderloin facing the cool side of the grill (I use a gas grill, so leave the middle burner on high and turn the outer burners to low, translate properly if you’re on charcoal, which I’m thinking will produce an even tastier steak). Leave on the grill if you like your steak cooked more than rare/medium rare, and even though I object to meat that isn't pink, it still is delicious on the well done spectrum (as I discovered when I made this recipe a few weeks ago after a bit too much wine). Rest the meat for ten minutes, slice up and enjoy.

For the veggies, cut up, and olive oil, salt and pepper the veggies up. Before grilling, slice a lemon in half, grill the cut sides about three minutes, then let cool while the veggies are grilling. Mince a shallot, (I used a spring onion), then add to olive oil, thyme, salt and pepper and juice from the grilled lemon. Once the veggies come off the grill, pour the dressing over, and let sit for as long as necessary, or while the steak cooks.

Oh, and I also baked a chocolate zucchini cake, using this recipe. Even though I think the heat did something to the glaze, it won rave reviews at the office.

By the way, warm summer weather also means lots of great wines. Tonight, I made a salad with early summer lettuce, sliced strawberries, goat cheese and a balsamic dressing. The flavors were a perfect balance, accentuated with a Domaine Sorin Rose from Provence, a bottle which I had just been itching to drink while waiting for the sun to appear. Fun to drink - bursting with the flavor of ripe cherries and strawberries, and perfect with my summer strawberry salad.

Other wines: a very excellent Sur de los Andes Torrontes from Argentina and a not so excellent (tasted of peaches, which I absolutely hate) Simonsig Chenin Blanc from South Africa.

When I was in New York a few weeks ago, Jason, Gabe and I talked about the sheets. I never realized, but quality linen sheets are pricey (Jason’s are fairly affordable, and considering the time we spend in bed, shouldn’t we have nice sheets?). And linen sheets tend to be frilly, with scallops and embroidery, things that make them appealing to only a very small demographic (i.e., women in the 50s and 60s). In retrospect, there is something timeless about linen; Jason pointed out that it’s not a coincidence that tablecloths and napkins are referred to as “linens”, because in the not too distant past, we were surrounded by linen. After looking at what was available, hating the quality and the price tag, Jason made a set for Gabe’s birthday, and Linoto was born.

Jason runs Linoto with a strong emphasis on quality and experience. My sheets took a while to arrive - the fabric quality did not pass Jason’s standards and we had to wait for better quality fabric. Carefully packed, the sheets were washed and soft and ready to go on my bed.

Fabulous!

Highlights for me: conversations over meals, the fashion, the raw and harsh portrayal of the devastation of a broken heart; cosmos at the end (why did we stop drinking these?); and the sheer energy created by four best friends. Lots of hits, a few misses, and Carrie’s wedding dress was not as tacky as it seemed in the after pictures leaked (although what was up with the bird?). Oh, and I adored the bridesmaids dresses.

It’s not entirely unusual to hear me reference moments from the series, particularly when discussing the single/dating life (I also reference Seinfeld too, which I guess tells you that my brain remembered more in the 90s and early 2000s than today). It’s always interesting to gage people’s reactions when I drop a reference. Those that made it into their 30s single nod in agreement, often adding their own perspective along the lines of “the same thing happened to me”. Those that didn’t make it into their 30s single generally seem a little perplexed, as in “how could this be true? It was an entertaining show, but that’s about it”.

I don’t know if it’s a fun fact or a sad fact or something in the middle – but some things in show have happened to me. Not just the general theme of hanging out with other single friends, but dating disasters, interactions with singles and non-singles, bad and good break-ups, happy and sad. Call it a badge of honor.

In celebration of the final episode four years ago, I made Caroline dinner (pad thai and spring rolls, if I remember correctly). This time, before the movie, I made margaritas and guacamole. After, Hilary, Lisa and I had dinner at Quinn’s, where I consumed a Manhattan (their special Manhattan is excellent), a cosmo (not so good) and a tasty, tasty espresso martini (which is the new “it” drink, I’ve had in both London and Seattle). And we talked about the movie, and of course, dating.

The next day, Carrie and I spent about 30 minutes discussing the movie. Apropos, I was drinking wine. I also informed her that when she gets married, she needs to take a cue from Carrie Bradshaw in her choice of bridesmaids dresses.

In this picture: cherries (peaking from the back, the first crop of the season), asparagus, lamb's quarter, spring lettuce and mint (accidentally cut out of the picture). Some of it will make tonight's dinner: salad with sauteed asparagus and goat cheese, and topped with a balsamic-lemon juice-shallot-honey-sour cream dressing. For reasons that I can't figure out, I've been craving salad a lot lately. Luckily, it's spring and early summer salad time at the farmer's market. I'll accompany with a Chateau Font-Mars Picpoul de Pinet, from Languedoc, of France. Intersting fact: the grapes grow on top of a field of fossilized dinosaur eggs!

The seasonal market, which is 3 blocks from my house, opened in mid-April. I've been trying to go every Sunday (when I'm in town, that is). It's a great social scene, I usually run into friends and neighbors. More importantly, the high quality produce and foodstuffs. Almost all seasonal, the food has all essential things that I love: fresh, grown by small farmers and truly, really organic. Beyond produce, other good stuff: flowers, eggs, meat (I may even buy chicken, a food that I try to avoid, because, well, most chicken is pretty bad), fish, chocolates, honey and ice cream, with more rotating in and out over the summer.

Does anyone have ideas for lamb's quarters? I remember a spectacular meal years ago with lamb's quarters filled ravioli, but not really ready to tackle that. The seller said it was like spinach, so I'm thinking about simply chopping up and sauteeing with garlic and a splash of lemon juice. Ideas are appreciated.

A bonus picture: baked tomatoes stuffed with couscous with basil, parseley, pine nuts and parmesan, tomatoes a la the farmer's market. I'm thinking that they are hot house grown, and extremely delicious. Oh, and also free of that nasty salmonella strain (a by-product of our industrial food chain, of which I could spend many hours ranting about its evils, but won't).

My six-month subscription with eHarmony ends today. Despite the recent flood of messages from the uber-religious people with new matches (!) and offers of discount renewals (!), I'm ending my relationship with eHarmony. In fact, I'm ending my relationship with all online dating sites as of today. I took this vow when I turned 34, and stayed away for a year. Then, 35 hit me and I decided to try the online thing one last time. Obviously, six months later, it didn't work out.

Over the past ten years, I've dated many of the sites: Match, Yahoo! Personals, Nerve, Lovelab and others that I've forgotten, probably on purpose. It seems that my relationship with those sites mimics many real life relationships. A roller coaster of happy and sad, huge emotional investments that sometimes do, but often don't pay off, disappointment, rejection, broken promises. Second and third chances. Stories, mostly bad, with relatively few good ones.

Nothing would make me happier than to have a sous chef in my kitchen (food allusion!). But, the reality is, that despite my many-pronged efforts, mine is a solo life. In a twisted way, the end of online dating is a sad end; most practically, I'm cutting off an area that blatantly promises a bright and shiny future with the love of my life, only to be found on this site!

Before I become tempted once again by someone's story about meeting their significant other on an online site, I'll think about my history with the sites: a relationship of give and take, which by the end, consisted of me doing most of the giving and the dating site, most of the taking.

PS - For all of my blog readers, please no more advice. Trust me, I've taken your advice, repeatedly. If you want to help me, find me a date with someone who not only has a pulse, but can carry on a conversation, likes to drink and isn't a picky eater.