It’s happened a few times in my blogging career where I seem to just slip off into an unknown void. Without an explanation my words, pictures and food cease to exist in cyberspace. And I hate coming back here apologizing to you kind people for my absence because you are so dear and so patient – but this time I think not only will you forgive me but many of you will know exactly why I’ve taken such a long hiatus from delicious food.

I didn’t plan on saying this now but I just can’t stop thinking about you all. Your kind comments and emails keep coming in and many of you have asked if I’m okay and if I’m ever coming back. Thank you for your continued support and presence in my Internet home – even though I don’t respond to all the comments and emails I read them all and each one warms my heart and makes me long to return to this place.

Okay – I’ve procrastinated long enough. Not that I don’t want to tell you – I’m just nervous and don’t even know how to put it into to words because frankly, I still can’t believe it – here it is….

We’re having a baby!

This will be number three and can I just tell you that I’m more nervous for this one than either of the other two little male punks that made their triumphant entry nearly 2 and 4 years ago.

We’ll have months to discuss my nerves and you can guarantee I’ll be seeking advice – especially from those of you who have three or more children.

But for now I’m just counting down the days until I’m out of the first trimester – not too much longer.

I will spare you the details of my daily afflictions but let’s just say that food and I are not friends. I eat because I have to and when I do it’s food that would have repulsed me before. Saltines, pickles and mustard – that was lunch last week. Buttered toast, Gatorade and noodles with butter and Parmesan have become regulars.

I dread when my husband makes coffee in the morning and I’ve asked him to refrain from mentioning any food items unless deemed acceptable by me. Last week in the grocery store he happened to mention white truffle oil and I nearly lost it in aisle 9. He’s still getting used to this rule as just a couple of months ago it was I that would be shunned from bringing up food – especially after we just had a rather large meal.

I can’t tell you how strange it is to go from being so incredibly in love with and passionate about food to wishing that it didn’t exist because just the thought, smell and look of it often sends me rushing to the restroom.

This has been the most intense “morning” sickness (they really should call it “all-day sickness”) I’ve experienced. I know it will blow over soon and at the end of it all – in September to be exact – I will be holding a precious baby. Having two examples of just how fast they do grow I don’t plan on this child ever being out of my arms.

So there you have it. I have no recipes to share because I haven’t been cooking – I will say though that Saltines, sharp cheddar, pickles and mustard make a tasty little cracker sandwich.

I anticipate just a couple more weeks of this sickness and really it should be letting up as each day passes – at least that’s what I’m hoping for.

I will be back, you can count on that. I have some incredible recipes to share – as soon as they sound good I’ll start making them.

Thanks again for being here, for cheering me on and appreciating great food.

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I’m waiting.

The recipe that I have to offer you tonight is still in the oven.  I thought maybe we could wait together.

Sooooo…. what’s new?

How have you been since the last time we talked?

Was it really just yesterday?

Have you seen these dishes?

And what about this corn? I know, right?!  FROZEN corn with mint of all things? This time of year? Seems odd but so alluring. Luisa’s insistence has convinced me that I need to make this. So I will be, on Thursday, for a very special someone’s birthday feast.

Oh my goodness. This tart. Nearly everyday I ask Tara if we can be best friends. She’s probably scared of me but I’m serious. I want to eat EVERYTHING that comes from her kitchen.

Hey! Here I sit just chatting away when I’ve neglected to tell you some thrilling news! A beautiful shiny chrome 6 quart KitchenAid arrived at my doorstep today.

You see tragically I’ve been without a mixer for nearly 8 months now. *gasp* In the midst of our move I leant my machine and it broke in the hands of the borrower. I couldn’t have been happier. For I was once the owner of a 5 quart machine and because of the “accident” I upgraded.

To make the machine feel right at home I’ve put her to good use on her first day here. Together we made Gingerbread dough (in case you were wondering, 12 cups of flour EASILY fits in the 6 quart),  marshmallows and meringue.

Which brings me back to what I came here to talk to you about. Meringue.

Sadly it appears as if I am just going to be a tease and tell you that they will have to wait for tomorrow.

It is currently 11:26 pm and even with the two shots of espresso I just consumed – I am fading fast – and the meringues are far from being ready to make their debut. In fact they’re as soft as the pillow that is currently calling my name.

Instead I’ll let Baron’s excitement for this project speak for itself.

“I want this one.”

“Eeeeee!!!”

“Yeah! This one right here.”

“Wait?! What do you mean they won’t be ready for hours?! Hrumpf.”

I feel you sweet boy. We’re all waiting patiently.

Thanks for waiting with me. Come back tomorrow – we’re making mushrooms!

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Currently he is sitting to my right designing, programming and all-around creating a new website for me. Don’t worry – I’m not doing a complete overhaul of the blog – again. This time we’re working on a photography site – a happy home for all my favorite photos.

I am sitting, to his left, sorting, selecting and critiquing the hundreds of photos I’ve taken over the past year, or so.

So tonight I thought we’d trip down memory lane and look at some of the dishes we’ve made together. And look at some never before seen images – unless of course you follow me on flickr.

It’s that time of year again …

…Grab some of this

and make some of these

then pour of cup of this.

I can not believe I have told you about these sweet little jams that were sent to me by Tea Together.

They went beautifully with my near perfect scone recipe.

Wait. What do you mean I haven’t told you about my scones before?! I’ve been a horrible blogger. I mustn’t hold out much longer.

And how about some pie.

This one goes way back.

and finally….

They grow up so fast. Sometimes not fast enough but most of the time I wish time could stand still so I could squeeze those baby cheeks for the rest of my life.

My life shares very little resemblance of what it was when I started blogging. I’m thrilled I have this food stained journal to remind me of the joy and so thankful you all are a part of it. Thanks for taking this little trip with me.

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I arranged for a babysitter before I knew what the evening agenda was. My husband knew and that was all that mattered.

The night before our less-than-ordinary evening away, Gabe handed me a glassine envelope thick with papers. In years past these strange and lovely envelopes have included cards for no reason other than to say he loves me, plane tickets to catch our dinner reservations in San Francisco and a simple note inviting me to lunch on top of a parking garage where we would be seated at the vintage table I had been eyeing in the window of the Antique Mall.

Tonight the envelope held two thick card stock brochures. One had “CALDER” printed in bold primary colors down the right edge and the other had a flawless rendering of a male face, pensive, in agony or joy – I can not tell from the partial sketch. The name Michelangelo in bold and all capitalized letter was printed under the drawing. Museum tickets were attached to the brochures with the help of a gold paperclip.

To see two artists that I admire in such completely different ways, joined together by a paperclip was both odd and thrilling. In the midst of unpacking boxes and setting up our home I had no idea that merely a couple miles from our new home the museum was temporarily housing the works of these two masters.

While I admire the imaginative and playful work of Calder it was the thought of viewing some of Michelangelo’s sketches that brought a joyful tear to my eye.

Seven years ago I studied Michelangelo’s art while standing right in front of it. While traveling in Italy I mimicked his masterpieces in my sketchbook while reverencing the beauty of his chiseled style. His muscular figures intrigued me as I would often wonder if women were indeed that buff in those days and/or if men actually found that attractive. If that’s the case I have some serious iron that needs pumping.

Arriving at the museum we quickly rode the escalators to the fourth floor – bypassing the permanent collection to spend our limited time viewing the mobiles of Calder and the sketches of Michelangelo.

Gabe and I would weave through the pieces loosing each other as we felt drawn to different places. We would reconnect in front of a masterpiece to share our latest insight with excitement and inspiration in our voice. He carried his sketchbook and took copious notes – which I found highly attractive in a nerdy art student sort of a way.

As I entered the Michelangelo exhibit I briefly noticed an enlarged sketch that was printed on the wall marking the entrance. In my mind I thought “that looks like a grocery list.” I laughed and questioned my own sanity. “Not everything has to be about food Ashley.” I scolded myself.

Boy did I prove me wrong. Walking up to the actual sketch it indeed was a list of food. In this drawing Michelangelo was telling his servant what he wanted to eat. Many servants, at that time, were illiterate so he was aiding the translation by communicating in the language he had perfectly mastered – drawing.

On the left side of the sketch a list of dishes penned in Italian that I was trying like mad to translate. The informative museum note next to the piece said he was asking for things such as wine, bread, anchovies, fennel soup and more wine. On the right side were corresponding images of the food items he desired.

Michelangelo saw himself as a sculptor which is evident in his paintings. The figures are chiseled, refined and seem to possess 3-D qualities. But the sketch of his breakfast, lunch and dinner is very relaxed. While his perspective is still as precise as the real thing the lines hint at what the object is meant to be. They are merely a few strokes of the quill that shows playfulness and incredible skill.

Of course I loved this drawing because of the subject matter but also it showed the reality of Michelangelo that I had never seen. He never intended for these sketches to be public. It was his desire that people saw his creations as being divinely inspired rather than carefully planned and practiced. It is in his humanness that we can truly celebrate the master that he was.

I left the museum flooded with the inspiration I came seeking.

Further inspiration was found in dessert.

We continued on the theme of Italian masters and dined at Spinasse in Seattle, renowned for its interpretation of traditional Italian cuisine specific to the Piedmont region in Northern Italy.

While dinner was a progression deep developed flavors, fresh, local ingredients and the creamiest polenta that I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating – it was the dessert that was as inspired as the sketches that left me changed.

Gianduja semifreddo served with dark chocolate and feuilletine. Creamy and sweet, matched with bitter and crisp. Simple flavors, executed flawlessly and served in an unpretentious manor. There was no need for fancy squiggles or two tone sauces blending into one another in concentric patterns with the help of a toothpick – each bite was perfectly balanced and exciting.

What I’m taking away from this evening, 1. I must re-create that nutty and chocolate filled dessert.  2. From here on out my grocery lists will be sketched – they’re so much more fun that way. 3. Life is filled with masterful people. Honor the beauty they create by humbly learning from them that you too might someday have the privilege of being an inspiration and have the opportunity to reflect the ultimate Beauty.

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It’s not that I don’t have things to share. Because I do. And it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you kind people. Because I do. It’s just that I’m so tired and I’ve sat here for more time than I care to admit trying to say what I came here to share and I’m just so gosh darn tired. Even the coffee I drank in preparation for tonight’s post isn’t keeping my eyelids propped open.

Instead I bring you this.

and this.

It’s not food but I just want to eat him up. In fact I do, on a daily basis.

So tomorrow I will return well rested and ready to finish the coffee series.

In the meantime I have a couple of items I’d like to share with you all. 1. WE’RE GOING TO NEW YORK! and by “WE” I mean my husband and I – that’s it, no little boys who are as cute as fluffy white kittens, but sometimes you need a break – even from cute fluffy kittens. So I am now opening up the flood gates ready to receive any and all recommendations on where to dine. Keep in mind I love all food – especially the sweet stuff.

2. If you live in the Seattle area get yourself down to Delancey and order up “Ashley’s Heirloom Apple Tart” – that’s me – I’m Ashley and I made some dessert – so go eat it.

3. Several people have been lusting over the Bodum Insulated cups that I’ve been serving my coffee in. I don’t blame you – they are fantastic cups. We have them in all sizes and we love them. Hot things stay hot. Cold things stay cold. It may sound like it but I am not getting paid to say this – I just really love these cups. You can get them here:
Bodum (455810US) Pavina 9-Ounce Double Wall Thermo Tumbler/Dof Glass 4 Pack

(in which case I would make a few pennies) or they sell them at many local home/kitchen stores.

I will return tomorrow with caramel and chocolate. I look forward to it. Meet me here. Tomorrow. We’ll have a mocha.

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Oh man. Eek. I’m cutting it close tonight. 11:12pm my computer is telling me.

So let me just start with a little disclaimer – this post won’t be an award winner, it won’t be prolific  – in fact I have no idea what I am going to say. This here is the nitty gritty of NaBloPoMo (or NaMoWriMo – the difference I have yet to figure out).

I had great expecations for the day – recipes flagged, grocery lists written, camera batteries charged and while I did manage to get started on my edible Christmas presents by making 5 jars of Quince Brandy (I will share the recipe soon) that was about all I was able to check off my list.

Instead of finishing the to-do list I had the great pleasure of filling in at Delancey (famed pizza restaurant owned by Molly (Orangette and her husband, Brandon)  tonight. Due to some sick staff members I was called in to help feed the pizza-loving Seattleites their perfectly blistered and charred pies.

At 2 o’clock Brandon called to see if I wanted to create some sort of dessert to serve tonight. Doors open at 5. Three hours. No problem.

My head began to spin with possibilities and of course my first thought was apples – as we have been using them so much around here lately.

Apples. So many possibilities but my mind always goes back to the classic flavor pairings – caramel, almonds and butter – lots of butter.

Puff Pastry, roasted apples marinated in Calvados and caramel, almond frangipane and Creme Fraiche. And there it was – tonight’s dessert special.

2 1/2 hours remaining until dinner service I quickly cut up my butter then threw it into the freezer to chill while I measured out the flour. Caramel on the stove, almonds toasting. Measure the sugar, add the butter, fold, roll, stir, blend, mix, chop. Breathe.

For a brief moment I felt that all too familiar rush that used to be a nightly occurrence when I worked in the restaurant. I still seek that rare rush. It’s that feeling of – can I do it? You’re pushing myself to the limits to see what you can accomplish. It’s a thrill and then when it’s all over and you’ve succeeded you are flooded with intense pride – and exhaustion.

Tonight, after the dessert was all prepped and ready for Kari to work her plating magic when the orders arrived, I took my position next to Brandon and the intensely hot wood-burning oven. For the next five hours I pressed, stretched, placed, topped and repeat.

The dough warm from the active yeast working its magic to produce perfect bubbles stretched from the weight of itself as I gingerly worked it over my knuckles.

The smell of the housemade fennel pork sausage wafting off of the pizzas was enough to make me so envious of the diners until I too was able to devour my own.

I walked into Delancey wearing a black t-shirt, as I walked out the color was questionable as a coat of flour covered every inch of me – even my face which gave Brandon a good laugh.

So now I’m home. Full, tired, happy. It feels so good to return to a restaurant kitchen. It feels familiar – as a home should. In that place I am confident and sure.

8 minutes remain until the clock strikes 12. And I can’t help but think that this post is exactly the reason why I pushed myself into posting everyday for a month. Had I not have set this goal for myself I would probably be sitting in bed with my computer watching some tv show having forgotten the premise of the show by the morning. Don’t get me wrong, as soon as I hit the publish button I’m crawling into bed with my computer.

But the point is that I did it. I posted. It wasn’t a great post and I didn’t even include a recipe. But in order to truly excel at something you have to push yourself to be in daily practice even when the exhaustion and they layer of flour coating your hands makes it hard to type.

I apologize for not having more to offer you in the way of photos and recipes but I guess this post was for me. To remind me that it’s okay not to know what to say but that just the act of doing it is an accomplishment.

Tomorrow is a new day and a new post. Also, for those of you following the Food: A-Z project we are now on to “B”. This time we will only have one week to upload your “B” photos – so get them in soon.

Thanks for letting me write through my flour-covered, tired self. I will see you back here tomorrow – oh shoot. I guess technically I’ll see you back here today since it is now 12:07 am.

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On Wednesday I went mushroom hunting. I really don’t know how I became so fortunate to once again have the chance to go foraging but I happily accepted the offer, packed my knife, camera, a few snacks to share and away I went.

.

You may remember my last jaunt in the woods – I was giddy, gleeful and knew nothing of mushroom hunting. This trip was not much different except that it was now my second time. I knew, for the most part, what I was getting myself into.

I knew that the company would be delightfully warm and the excitement of the days agenda and our mutual love of all things edible would instantly bond us and guide our conversations.

I knew how to identify the King Bolete (a.k.a. Porcini). How the bulbous stems are reminiscent of Santa’s belly having seen its fair share of Christmas cookies. I remembered not to be alarmed when greeted by dozens of white crawling worms with black heads the size pin tips who were making a feast on MY Porcini. I knew that if we saw the brilliantly red colored Amanita Muscaria that resembles Toad from Mario Bros. – Porcini were likely nearby.

I knew that the Chanterelles are a striking yellow-orange similar to the fallen leaves that lay on the forest floor surrounding them. And that when I came home and sauteed them with onions, leeks, fennel and celeriac  – I knew the house would smell of the same earthy fragrance that intoxicated me in the woods.

I am years away from becoming an expert – and likely I will never get there – for am I beyond happy to simply get outside in search of a delicious treasure in the midst of great people with a common passion who sure know how to pack a picnic.

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I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there are a lot of killer photography tutorials floating around the food blog world these days. If you haven’t seen them check out:

Wrightfood:

Food Photography Set-up Post One

Food Photography Set-up Post Two

Compact Camera Food Photography

White On Rice Couple: Photography Tips

And I’m sure there are plenty more out there that I have not seen yet – feel free to post them in the comments section.

All this advice and information from talented photographers is invaluable and I feel so grateful to all of these talents who take the time to share their wisdom and skills with the rest of us.

In all of these posts on photography you will notice a common theme: Practice. You must actually pick up your camera and take pictures in order for all the information to sink in.

I for one am not good with numbers. Somehow in high school I ended up in an advanced math class and I went home crying nearly everyday. I was much happier sitting at the ceramics wheel in the art building or finding a good book in the library.

In both highschool and college I took photography courses and when the discussion turned to numbers my head started to spin. I can wax poetic about composition and color but the technical side of photography brings back those all to familiar tears.

It isn’t until I pick up the camera and start shooting that the information I’ve read and heard starts to become clear. Foreign concepts begin to become second nature as I experiment with changes of aperture, adjustments of the shutter speed and playing with off camera lighting.

For this reason I’ve started a flickr group entitled, Food: A-Z. In this group I’ve combined two passions – food and photography – both of which I have much to learn.

Each week we will focus on one letter of the alphabet. Let’s say ‘A’ for example. Each group member then chooses an ingredient, dish or food product that begins with the letter ‘A’ then they photograph it.

At the end of 26 weeks we will have a collection of stunning images showcasing edible subjects.

My hope is that people will, first of all, JOIN! And secondly that we will use this friendly space as a chance to experiment with new food and new techniques so that we can expand our knowledge and grow together.

Doesn’t that sound fun?!

If your shaking your head ‘no’ right now. That’s okay because I have a coffee scented, nutty tart that I’m pretty sure you will love and I hope makes up for the time you took to read through my new side project. It also just so happens to start with the letter ‘A’.

Almond Frangipane Tart with Coffee and Orange
Frangipane

1 cup sliced almonds, toasted

1/2 cup brown sugar

3 1/2 ounces butter, softened

pinch salt

1 egg

1 Tbl Grand Mariner

1 tsp. Orange zest

1 Tbl Whole Milk

Combine all ingredients in a food processor then process until smooth. Set aside.

Coffee Tart Dough

4 1/2 ounces (1/2 cup + 1 Tbl.) butter, softened

1/2 cup brown sugar

pinch salt

1 egg

1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 pack Via (Starbuck’s instant coffee) You can substitute 2 tsp. regular instant coffee if you don’t have Via.

Pre-heat the oven to 350*

Combine the butter and sugar and cream until smooth. Add salt and egg. Mix until incorporated. Scrape down the sides of the bowl then add the flour mixing just to combine.

You can chill the dough until firm then roll it out, taking care to use plenty of flour to prevent the dough from sticking to the counter, or you can use it immediately and press into your tart pan(s)

I just pressed the dough into 4 little tart pans and used immediately. I had dough remaining. You could also make one large tart.

Par-bake tart shell for 10 minutes before filling the shell with Frangipane. Continue to bake until filling is just set. For the little tarts this took another 10-15 minutes.

Remove from oven and let cool completely.

Serve with candied orange peel and a dusting of powdered sugar.

*One more note about the group*

If you would like to join – I really think you should – then check out our group page and ask to join the group. I’ll accept you then you start shooting and sharing.

For this first assignment I’ll give people some time to sign up and join. So you have until November 8 to upload your ‘A’ photos. From that point on we’ll do it weekly.

Feel free to blog about it (if you have a blog), create a recipe with your ingredient, share a recipe and comment on other group member’s photos. This is meant to encourage, teach and inspire. So please be kind.

Also – don’t feel like you have to participate every week. Come and go as you please. We won’t kick you out if you do every letter or if you just do ‘P’. I don’t like rules – can you tell?

I’m excited! I hope you guys are too. Let’s get practicing.

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I have recently become aware of a sub-culture that exists in the ever growing world of food lovers. The people that exist in this culture are passionate, determined, generous, adventurous, tough, gentle and secretive. They are at times self-less and giving and conversely elusive and greedy. For the mushroom hunter, finding the perfect specimen is the ultimate priority but to share their find and to introduce one to the often secretive world of the forager – well, they are just too darn excited and in love with the fungi not to.

Angelo Pellegrini defines mushroom hunters as such; “He hunts only at the crack of dawn and wears his shirt inside out. To ask why is to ask why fire burns. His credo may be stated thus: he has sworn an oath to keep his mushroom patches secret and to find and to poach on the patches of other hunters. When mushrooms are the prize, the scope of all his aspirations is narrowed to these two goals. Though in all else he may be as saintly as St. Francis, in the pursuit of these ends he is more satanic than satan. He will betray his nearest and dearest without the slightest twitch of flesh or spirit. He is amoral.”

While I have yet to find the answer as to why they wear their shirts inside out, I can now understand this definition to be quite comical in its honest and nearly perfect portrayal of those who tirelessly seek out mushrooms. After spending an unforgettable day with three foragers I would never use the word “satanic” to describe them. It might have been that they were simply guarding me from that aspect seeing that it was my first time out but on this day they were all saints.

I will say however, that I fear if I were to give too many descriptors regarding the location of our finds you may never hear from me again. So I shall choose my words wisely.

Our day of foraging happened a couple of weeks ago while the sun was still warm and the heirloom Brandywine Tomatoes plucked from Jon and Kate’s garden prior to leaving, were at their peak. The English language lacks the words to describe the honor and privilege I felt to be a part of this expedition. A permanent grin painted my face as I spent the day with Kate McDermott (the queen of pie), Jon Rowley (contributing editor for Gourmet Magazine, Pellegrini award recipient, James Beard award-winning food consultant) and Langdon Cook (author of the recently published book, “Fat of the Land” and the blog by the same title).

There were jokes of blindfolding me on our drive and confiscating my iPhone so I would be unable to plug in the GPS coordinates of our location but I was too enthralled in the conversation and the idea of seeking the woods for our next meal to pay attention to where we were going.

We arrived at our first location, slowing the car down for our initial hunt. The well-trained eyes of my companions spotted several varieties from the comfort of their seats and quickly determined that this spot was to their liking. As an eager child combs the sand in search of beach glass my eyes scanned the forest floor in search of anything resembling a mushroom. Even though I studied the mushroom manual in the backseat on our long voyage I was completely clueless as to what was fit to eat and what would cause hallucinations similar to what Alice felt as she followed the tardy rabbit.

Years of experience and education taught my fellow hunters what to look for and what to avoid as they continually answered my calls of “what about this one?” and “what’s this? Can I eat it?”

Our team began to separate in the midst of the trees, each on our own mission to be the hunter awarded the honor of the “first find of the day”.

It didn’t take long for us to notice Jon carefully cradling several specimen. With great excitement we rushed over to see what our fellow hunter had found. We gathered round like a bunch of school kids to see what Jon had brought to show-and-tell. He proudly described his find and as he was doing so I inhaled a pungent flavor of woods and meaty, aromatic mushrooms.

Langdon taught me the clever way to decipher the Matsutake variety. “Red hots and wet socks”. Sure enough one deep inhale through my nose and I quickly understood how this phrase was coined. While we associate the smell of apple cider, cinnamon and roasted squash as the pronouncement of Fall, in Japan it is the distinctive aroma of the Matsutake that rings in Autumn.

We continued our day hoping from one “hot spot” to the next. While Jon and Langdon had their intuitive mushroom seeking sensors tuned in Kate and I continually brought our conversations back to the joys of pie. The car would stop at a new location and we would all pile out with much anticipation as to what we could find in the dirt.

This would be the first time that I’ve seen Matsutake, Porcini, Lobster and Chanterelles outside of the market. Combine that thrill with the joy on Jon’s face each time we spotted a mushroom, the taste of Kate’s pies eaten in the woods, simple sandwiches of fresh baked bread and tomatoes bursting with their own juices sliced with a leatherman in the trunk of a car, the crisp air cutting through the warmth of the sun, learning from the wisdom of experienced foragers such as Jon and Langdon and of course the immeasurable pride and excitement I felt when I spotted my first unguided find – a bountiful pile of Chanterelles – I’m hooked.

In all honesty, my lust for mushrooms is a recent development. As a child I would meticulously peel them off my pizza, remove them from strogonoff and avoid them in stews. I still get slightly squeamish at the texture but can greatly appreciate the depth they lend to many of my dishes. But it wasn’t until taking the proper actions in order to seek out the mushroom rather than simply grabbing them from the store that I was able to truly appreciate fungi.

On a recent trip to San Francisco I stood in awe in front of a mushroom purveyor at the Ferry Building. I stared at the Chanterelles and imagined each one in its original environment. I noticed how clean they were and thought about the care taken to gently brush away each spot of dirt so as not to spoil the rest of the batch. I imagined the hunters in the early morning fog heading out to their “spot” in search of their treasure.

I have to come to honor the mushroom not just for its unmistakable flavor that it imparts but because I now understand it much better (with infinitely more to learn). I have discovered where they come from, the care taken to properly find the best variety and the work needed in order for them to be a part of my dinner.

The more I come to learn about food the more I fall deeper in love with it. Good food is both simple and incredibly complex. The good news for us is that if we choose to select and seek out “good food” – food that is seasonal, often local and grown with skill and passion – then much of the work is done for us and it’s quite easy to convert that food into an unforgettably delicious meal.

The complexity comes from how our food was created, how it was grown, who knew when it was the precise time to pluck the fruit from its branches and who took the time to create the perfect soil conditions to attain the proper sweetness.

This complexity is beyond my comprehension. Much of it is driven by the passion of farmers who care enough about good food to unravel some of these complexities in order for us to enjoy a meal that causes us to moan in joy and acknowledgment of a job well done.

Sometimes the intricacy of good food is created for us, as is the case of the mushroom. Our job is to know and understand the many varieties and then seek them out. But they are there, for us to enjoy, savor and consume with great pleasure – for this and many other reasons I believe there is a God because good Lord these mushrooms were good!

Phew. After all that hunting, foraging and thinking – I dried my porcini and sauteed my Chanterelles in butter, salt/pepper and white wine – ate some then froze the rest so that I can, at another time, relive this day that I will never forget.

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These early Fall days scream for a visit to an apple orchard. With the air as crisp as a Zestar and the slight warmth of the fleeting summer sun comforting like a mug of fresh pressed Honeycrisp cider.

Last week we made our first visit of the season to Bellewood Acres located just north of Bellingham, WA. I know Disneyland claims to be the happiest place on earth but Bellewood Acres is my happy place.

With Mt. Baker casting its shadow over the apple trees and both cows and horses as the farm’s neighbors, the setting is simply surreal. The best way to tour the massive orchards is to hop in one of the multiple golf carts available to visitors. With a maximum speed of two miles an hour you can be assured that you will get a leisurely tour of all the varieties of apples that Bellewood grows.

This year I was so thrilled to find even more incredible products available that are made on the farm. John and Dorie, the farm’s owners, have added a cider reduction and apple cider vinegar to the farm store shelves. The cider reduction is both tart and crisp like a fresh apple while having an intense caramel flavor from reducing the sugars in the cider. Both products are made from their cider that they press on the farm. And if you have yet to sample their cider make a point to do it this year. One sip of the Honeycrisp cider and you would swear you were eating the actual apple underneath the tree on which it was grown in the warmth of the summer sun with little white bunnies hopping about – yes, it really is that magical.
Another item not to be missed is the Honey Roasted Peanut Butter. I could live off of freshly sliced apples dunked in their peanut butter. And then for dessert I would have either a caramel apple that has a jacket of slightly salty and roasted peanuts OR dip more apple slices in their caramel sauce that is reminiscent of Dulce de Leche – which you all know by now that I love that stuff.

Online you can find Bellewood Acres at bellewoodapples.com or become their fan on Facebook. If you are lucky enough to live in the area they are located just south of Lynden right off the Guide Meridian on the Ten Mile Road. They are open everyday from 10-6 from now until December 31st.

John and Dorie are extremely passionate about their apples and the proof is in the taste. Throughout my many visits to their farm over the years I have gotten to know John and Dorie and my life is richer because of them. Their love for each other is as sweet as the caramel coating their apples.

I do hope many of you get the opportunity to visit Bellewood Acres. It is a Fall trip not to be missed.

Do you have field trip that is a must for you during these precious Fall months?

Photos taken by my husband and myself.

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