Before the Apple revolution…

Long before the Steves - Jobs and Wozniak -revolutionized the world of personal computing by reconfiguring the forbidden fruit, produce of a different type dominated the Silicon Valley. At the turn of the twentieth century the hottest commodity in Santa Clara Valley was the apricot, not the apple. And the Royal Blenheim - a probably hybrid of France's Royal and England's Blenheim apricots - was considered the king of pre-Silicon Valley crops from World War II until the tech invasion converted orchards into office parks in the 1970's and 80's.

Despite their regal status, these days the finicky Blenheim is often more of a wall flower than a homecoming queen. By today's standards they're smaller than your average apricot and they often retain a pale green tinge around the edge, even at the peak of flavor. Their delicate flesh bruises easily, making them difficult to market to a consumer who equates blemish-free with beauty and perfection. But if you're willing to peak beneath the surface, the Blenheim packs quite a reward. So when John learned that this summer's harvest from the folks at Peter Wolfe Ranch in Brentwood was available for pick-up we cleared the calendar for the weekend.

We made the trek to Brentwood on Saturday morning, hoping to beat the heat. Vera – the voice of our trusty Verizon-provided GPS navigation system – served us well, only whining a couple of times about "recalculating route…" as she guided us through the rapidly expanding suburban sprawl of strip malls and cookie-cutter houses toward our destination. When we emerged from the car we were pleasantly surprised NOT to be overwhelmed by the heat and we made our way to the shed to pick up our stash. And one taste of the elusive apricot made it clear to us that "progress" is a matter of perspective. I'll take a green-tinged blemished Blenheim over the softball-sized firm-fleshed apricots lining the aisles at the mega mart any day. These little guys are liquid sunshine, and at least in my head they are the taste equivalent of the color apricot.

We spent Sunday deploying 24 pounds of apricots. Sadly I spent most of the day scouring the marts of trade for canning supplies since Amazon's shipping department failed to expedite my order. It frightened me that the guy managing the kitchenware department at Bed Bath and Beyond had no idea what a canning funnel or canning tongs were, and was only vaguely more familiar with ball jars, lids, pectin and paraffin. In the end I found the lids and seals on an abandoned aisle at Andronico's, and we made do with my existing inventory of tongs and funnels. Like his great aunt before him, John held hot jars carefully and "offered it up" when they singed his fingertips.

While I was traipsing around the Tri-Valley in search of supplies, John was making my kitchen smell like summer. He started with two preserve recipes: Blenheim Apricot Jam and Apricot Butter. When I got home we pulled out the ice cream bowl attachment for the Kitchen Aid and made David Lebovitz' Apricot Sorbet. And I pitted the last of a pound of farmer's market cherries and set to work on a custardy Apricot Cherry Clafouti.

All in all, a weekend well spent.

For a little more history on the beautiful Blenheim, see this article from the Chronicle in 2004.

I WON! It's HERE!

I never EVER win anything.

Not Bingo. Not the lottery.

Ed McMahon's never darkened my doorstep with the Publishers' Clearinghouse grand prize.

Hell, I go to Vegas for the FOOD.

But something prompted me to reply to Anne's post in search of must-have holiday foods. First, I had an answer to her question. And second I LOVED the retro-modern look of the apron prize from Phase Three.

Imagine my surprise when I learned I WON!

It showed up in the mail yesterday and I couldn't wait to show it off. Apologies to Anne for borrowing her image of my beautiful new apron, but I wanted to show it off and I can't find a way to model it AND photograph it.

Now excuse me while I head off to break it in...

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From the archives...
In 2006 we shared a "food first" with friends.

Another addictive holiday goodie...

Trader Joe's has done it again.

First they tempt me with a dozen flavors of booze-soaked pound cakes.

Then last year they introduced candy cane flavored oreo impostors called Joe Joes.

But that wasn't good enough.

Noooo....

This year they add insult to injury by wrapping the damn things in Belgian chocolate and sprinkling them with candy cane bits.

Unfortunately we tossed the package before I got a chance to peruse the nutritional information, and my TJ's has been out of stock since mid-December. But it can't be good.

Can't WAIT to see what evil they introduce next year...

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From the archives...
Trying my best to post 31 entries in 31 days in 2006 I resorted to that vocabulary Rorschach test that is Unconscious Mutterings.

Mudbugs!

Lynn Swann: You gonna add another championship trophy to the old case downstairs?
Coach Red Beaulieu: That's kinda like my old man told me one time, Lynn. The only thing better than a crawfish dinner, is five crawfish dinners.

-The Waterboy (1998)

I'd have to agree with the coach's father.

Which is a very very *good* thing when one has fifteen pounds of them to dispatch, peel and employ in something tasty good.

How did this California girl happen upon fifteen pounds of Louisiana's beloved mudbugs?

It all started in email.

Joshua said he liked my blog (I'm still often surprised that a bunch of people I've never met *read* my blog) and he was wondering if I'd be willing to try out one of the products offered at Cajun Grocer and blog about the experience. He offered a choice of Crawfish or Turducken.

Um... TurDUCKen? What would I do with turducken?

Not wanting to embarrass myself in front of my aforementioned readership, I selected the crawfish. Nothing difficult about crawfish. Boil. Peel. Eat some. Search Google for a recipe for the rest. This isn't exactly rocket science...

'cept for the true crawfish enthusiast, I suspect it has its similarities. In hindsight, the boiling process might have been easier with this. Or one of these. Having neither at our disposal, we put my 18 quart stock pot to some heavy duty use.

The fish arrived on Friday evening. After spending the evening on my island (and freaking me out a bit when I walked through the kitchen and heard them milling about in their container... yeah, they're most definitely alive), we broke out the stockpot and broke open the packaging to see what lay in store for us.

My only previous experience with crawfish is at the Bay Area's nod to Cajun Country: New Orleans by the Bay. The contents of my carefully packaged styrofoam container were at least four times the size of anything I'd seen there... some of them small-lobster sized. And based on their fresh but slightly earthy scent, I don't doubt the claim that they were fished and shipped the same day.

We boiled the crawfish according to the instructions on the seasoning package and I'm proud that my little stockpot that could held up beautifully to the task. We rapidly realized that the boiling was the easy part... the challenge was going to be in the peeling.

And peeling...

And peeling...

John did his part almost entirely with his fingers, while I chose to employ a paring knife so my manicurist won't have a seizure when I see her next week. It took us the better part of the afternoon to get them all peeled. We snacked a bit along the way and decided that the seasoning packet permeated perfectly, and enhanced the natural sweetness of the meat.

Now, what to do with all of that crawfish meat?

We thought about beignets, but that felt like a lot *more* work. I'm not a huge fan of etouffee or jambalaya. After some amount of deliberation, I chose to make a riff on Emeril's Crawfish and Cream over Pasta, employing a bunch of asparagus from this week's CSA box in place of the green onions and parsley, both of which would have required a last minute grocery shopping expedition. I used a package of Pasta Etc.'s fresh Lemon Chive Linguine which played beautifully with the chardonnay cream sauce.

In the end, the coach's dad would be proud... It's a rich, indulgent dish, easily allowing for five to seven crawfish lunches and dinners.

Others who've tried this recipe:
Elizabeth shares a sensational story of two families meeting in the wake of a storm as she prepares Emeril's feast.

Technorati Tags: Food | Cajun | Key Ingredients: Pasta, Crawfish

New on my must own list...

We've all played the game. My menu would include copious amounts of hamachi, saba and unagi, remember?

Now Melanie Dunea's interviewed fifty of the world's top chefs... men and women who've arguably tasted (and in many cases created) some of the world's finest food.

Anthony Bourdain. Thomas Keller. Eric Ripert. Jamie Oliver. Lidia Bastianich. Wylie Dufresne. Mario Batali. And many more.

What would they choose as their final meal on earth? Inquiring minds are dying to know...

No pun intended.

Technorati Tags: Food | Books About Food

Conservative, yet... Purple?

Like the purple family car that inspired the subject line (an inside joke among my friends a decade ago) this defies explanation.

It doesn't match anything in my kitchen.

I already have a nice fully-functional, goes-with-everything white one. And a hand mixer. And several whisks.

But I found this while I was blog surfing, and it's like a magnetic field I can't control -- I keep gravitating back to it.

Technorati Tags: Kitchen Toys