Archive for the ‘Local’ Category
I’ve been downright dark lately but just hear me out. The loss I’m bemoaning this time around is of footwear: specifically, my ZiGi sandals from SoHo. The judgement, as you’ll see, is mine all mine.
My sandals, purchased spontaneously while trekking to NYU last year in an attempt matriculate and move eastward (Saga. I didn’t go.), have finally given out after a year of heavy use. Nothing compares to a really awesome pair of $20 surprise sandals from a place you just ducked into to escape the rain. And now, perusing Zappos, I realize they are gone forever and I find myself stranded in a fashion quandary. It is Indian Summer here and we’re gearing up for two more months of beach weather while the rest of the country (and the shoe industry) breaks out the boots and jeans and falling tree leaves.
Northern California fashion, particularly East Bay fashion, is complicated for so many reasons. First of all, you’re surrounded by people in yoga pants and Patagonia zip-ups, who consider high fashion a trip to the Börn store. There’s this prevalent Etsy craftsy outdoorsy sort of look here. It involves clogs and bags from the Maker Faire, Timbuk2 messenger bags, little sustainable carved bamboo earrings and handmade leather items. This look is easily passed off as “comfortable”, but what people miss is that it’s a look that’s entirely value-based. Things are locally sourced. Organic. Charming and arty, as an extension of a personality that values social responsibility and art programs in schools.
It practically comes with an HRC bumpersticker. I totally get it. But there’s something about that look that’s so inherently responsible. Like that person would never sleep in too late and miss work, blow the day off having great sex with a cute bartender.
That person would freak out about the very idea of sex with a bartender. That person would want to scurry to the library and check out a book with that theme immediately, but would never act out so. Her therapist would advise against it.
Moving along the trajectory, then there’s this white flowy organic cotton, designer jeans, still low-heel footwear but much higher end sort of lady. She drives a Mini, or hybrid SUV. She shops farmer’s markets in her responsible sandals, but does at least possess a workable shoe collection for nights at Jardinière or wine tasting or night in the city extravaganzas after the kids are put to bed. Unfortunately, this person is rather boring, and all that money has done nothing to enhance a quality of personality, but she knows mid range labels, and can usher out a few designer bits from her closet, though they’ll likely be conservative investment pieces of Yamamoto or Jill Sander. (Side note here, have you seen Friends With Money with my girlfriend Catherine Keener? So excellent.)
Categorization aside, part of the problem is that it’s so damn outdoorsy here. People will spontaneously burst into trail biking at a moment’s notice, and if you’re standing there in your platforms without a Sigg bottle, you’ll just feel like an idiot. I did spend one Thanksgiving tottering around Bodega Bay beaches in high heel leather boots because I had tried desperately to walk this line.
The girls who succeed in living a Bay Area life in heels, sadly (and I say this truthfully because I would love to live a life that ALWAYS has a long leg line and foot massages to work out the residual issues from hours in platforms), are the ones who don’t take advantage of what the Bay at large has to offer. It’s just so fucking beautiful here. If you don’t drive up the coast and navigate your way through rocky unmarked paths to get to the beach, you’re selling yourself short. It’s windy and you need layers, and flat soles. No one brings their Theory suit to Squaw for skiing. I’m sorry, but it’s just silly. You have to learn to be malleable, and store your sensible shoes next to your killer purple stilettos. And learn how to backyard BBQ in flip flops while simultaneously hone your choices on Masa’s wine list. Ah, the cross we all bear.
JUST as I finished writing that last post about being all down on California, my Pandora station randomly served up this song by Clevergirl, a former artist on my former label. And the song? The one about me. For real. About driving an open highway and drinking good coffee and having great friends and the freedom to just make decisions and roll with it. A certifiably West Coast sort of vibe.
Sigh. Makes me happy. Thanks, Clevergirl, for filling my ego bank with watermelon jolly ranchers, eyes with tears, and writing something as rad as “It’s summertime/ I’m on the road/ Fill the tank and feed my soul/ I dream of things/ You make them true”.
Alright. Back at it, and this time with a much more sensible Pandora in charge of the musical selection. Spotify requires far too much participation for me. I anticipate using it once a month for alleviating stuck-in-head songs from Journey or The Wiz, rather than letting it manage my musical world.
I do not have my requisite summer evening glass of wine because I am living in fear of fruit flies. It is cherry tomato and gushy nectarine season in the fruit basket. And yesterday we set out to use our new juicer to stop being so goddamn fat all the time, and then realized that Craigslist giveth, and Craigslist taketh away. Earlier this summer I scored so heavily with Michelle Obama the Yamaha scooter that we used up all our karma and now we have a shitty juicer that puts juice everywhere except in the receptacle. Well, we DID have one until this afternoon when I realized the fruit flies had seized the opportunity to do a condo conversion in the leftover carrot pulp and I promptly threw the whole thing in the garbage.
My shredded index finger (for which I will be suing Microplane, or my mother, or whomever is responsible for getting me into the mess of wanting to grate my own cheese with a torture device) is looking more like science fiction special effect today with its white blood cell activating and antibiotic cream lathering. Did you know that the old school of letting a wound “dry out” is not actually a good idea? My father drilled that into my head- exposing your owies to fresh air was the fastest way to healing. Apparently, airing out promotes cell death, the opposite of what you want to facilitate healthy repairing of damaged tissue and it’s best to keep things under a thick layer of ointment and out of sight. Oh, and scarring. Moisture reduces scarring.
Tomorrow is the first official day that the children belong to me all day. We are beginning the non-vacation part of maternity leave with no backup and no plans in place. I’ll either blow it off and set the oldest down in front of Phineas and Ferb and hand the baby his favorite spatula to gnaw on, or rock it out by getting amped early and journeying to the new Boot and Shoe Service Cafe in the old Cafe DiBartolo space on Oakland’s Grand Ave. Oh how I loved their bougainvillea patio. I hope it has been preserved.
I’m leaning toward the latter. After all, what sort of mother am I if I only educate my eldest about the wonder of coffee (she knew how to grind beans and make a single drip cup by age one, and I am completely serious)? The baby must start toeing the family line eventually.
Here’s a soundtrack for the sun tomorrow. May you all have deliriously happy fruitflies in your wine glasses too.
After a few years hiatus, I attended the annual NASFT Fancy Food Show in San Francisco last weekend. My BF and I have gone together in the past, if for no other reason than to see what’s new and validate a nice lunch at Restaurant Lulu afterward (their salted mussels are reason to do anything, really.. and I used to work in the Lulu catering kitchen so it holds a special place in my heart).
The last year we went was the year before those Nespresso-style coffee pods hit the market and I walked around feeling very “industry” when people were getting all geeked about them 15 months later. It’s fun to have seen and done before the average consumer gets there.
Basically, you wander around Moscone center for a day or two (easily two), wearing a badge that states your kind of business. It’s largely full of retail and import people, easily identifiable by their black suits and mover-and-shaker body language. They sort of heft around and dodge in front of you at the booths when you’re trying to break through the crowd and see what the Montepulciano d’Abruzzo lady has to offer. Catering (especially small caterers) don’t have much pull in a big room like that.. you’re only interested in making these tiny little orders and the vendors want, well, Whole Foods to come in and buy their whole year’s worth of stock.
In the past I’ve just pretended to be a bigger caterer, in order to make the connection and find out what people are all about. But this year I was snooty and just passed the import people right by. I wanted to meet the artisanal producers, the (literally) mom and pop businesses. I collected a small stack of business cards but largely was unimpressed by the small-scale representation this year. All I really remember is getting a panini from Mezetta, whose booth eclipsed half of the North hall (and whose sandwiches, in all honesty, were excellent).
Here are the highlights:
HappyGoat Caramels- just what it sounds like. Caramel made from goat milk. Every bit as wonderful as that sounds. And they had a 15 year Malt Scotch caramel sauce that made my knees wobble. And SUCH nice people doing everything right: small production, sustainable farming. They got picked up by Williams-Sonoma and will be hugely successful next holiday season, just you wait and see.
La Quercia: Artisan salumi from heritage pigs (Berkshire, Tamworth) and is doing organic, small batch things to make prosciutto, bacon, pancetta and Acorn-fed coppa, lonza and so much more. They were sampling the Tamworth and Berkshire and they had me at hello.
Hodo Soy Beanery, located here in the East Bay where all good food originates, makes all sorts of high-quality soy products including yuba: thin sheets of fatty soymilk that can be cut, grilled, used like pasta and all kinds of fun things. They are also totally nice and organic/non-GMO and started out at local farmer’s markets.
I leave you with the vanilla and berry Strauss soft-serve above, clearly the best idea (and the best bite) of the entire show. May we all have Strauss Soft-Serve in our immediate futures.
Paint the kids’ room pale winter but slightly playful blue and make it look like this.
Finally listen to the newest Grace Potter which I was so excited about I accidentally ordered three separate times.
And try to get someone to take me to Remedy for a scone.
Simple, but worth sacrifice, all.