Thanksgiving and Springtime

Well, it's the week of Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving week, and I'm eating local strawberries and visiting the farmers' market for fresh tomatoes and spring lettuces. It's all a bit bizarre, but I love the oddity as well. In fact, I'd be content forgoing the heavy Thanksgiving food if I didn't happen to be around other Americans. But we seem to be inescapable people, so, of course, I'll embrace the festivities. (And, really, pumpkin pie goes down well any time of year.)

In the meantime, let's talk farmers' market. One of my favorite subjects.



This weekend was my first time to visit the Auckland City Farmers' Market, and while it was lovely, and I hope to go back, it was quite small. For the time it took to get into the city (not to mention park - I'll definitely bus next time), I was underwhelmed. I suppose there are other farmers' markets around the city, but this seemed like The One. If that's true, then a small city like Bellingham just put Auckland to shame.







Still, I'll go back. All the more reason, right? This place needs some lovin'. And ordering a coffee at the Kokako Coffee stall to sip while strolling by the cheeses, honeys, herbs, and pastries doesn't sound half-bad on a Saturday morning, even if you find yourself back where you started in five minutes.





I picked up some fresh hand-stretched mozzarella from a vendor whose name I don't recall and enjoyed it in a simple tomato-full panzanella yesterday. If only it was practical to carry a pot of basil home with me too.

Being that last Saturday was the market's third anniversary as well, there was live music by Reb Fountain. I didn't stay around too long for a good listen but liked the little I heard. Without her, her band, and their groupies, I'm curious as to the atmosphere of the market on the average day. Will it feel emptier? Quiet?





Only one way to find out.

My Northwest Bug

Life's days are continuing to fly out from under me. Since getting to Bellingham, I've had my wisdom teeth removed, helped my mom move houses, prepped for and celebrated her wedding, and tried (with some success) to see people I'm needing to say goodbye to before heading across the Pacific Ocean...indefinitely.







Fortunately I've made it to the farmer's market twice, as you can see above, and spent time in one of my favorite cafes; the third floor of Village Books and the view out the window are what you see in the photos below.









The Temple Bar is on the schedule for later this week, and a day in Seattle is coming tomorrow, so somehow I'll satisfy a bit of my Northwest bug before heading out on the road for ten days. My sister and I will be winding our way down the coast visiting friends and family on our way to LAX with suitcases and plenty of cameras and playlists in tow.

What My Eyes See

Pictures say it best when the sky has long been dark and the amount of words that could be spent catching up on the last week(s) threaten a further lapse into silence. Here is what I have to give tonight, friends.

The Closest Thing

Over the weekend I was able to obtain a pan for my faulty little stovetop and last night cooked my first meal in this apartment - a little space that truly is the closest thing to home I currently have on this earth. I'm very grateful to have it, and now that it's been warmed with the scents of marinara sauce and browned butter over the past two evenings, it carries a certain comfort and ease.

Oh but please don't start thinking that I'm spending all my time within these walls. In fact, this weekend I got to spend an hour or so on a sailboat beneath the Golden Gate Bridge, which was shrouded in fog. It is so wonderful to live near the water again.

On Sunday I walked up one of San Francisco's many hills to Grace Cathedral and lay on the grass of a small park across the street to do some reading. The views from there were spectacular, and the sun was shining warmly on grateful locals and tourists alike.

Since then the sun has disappeared, and I'm still figuring out how to gauge the weather each day. I love getting to wear scarves and sweaters and crave hot tea but find that it's still warm enough that whatever layers I add become too warm in my twenty-minute walk to work. However, they're perfect once indoors and sitting beside a window that looks out to the overcast sky.

I'm continuing to enjoy my internship, especially getting to know the people better and catching the vision of Foodzie. I've lost track of the number of hours I have stared at photographs of food in the last two days! At least eight, surely.

Surprisingly, all those pictures of buttery shortbread and chocolate truffles haven't sent me on a sugar spree. Largely it has to do with my budget, of course, and also knowing I have enough things in my fridge that I should be eating. Fava beans, for example. I bought about seven fresh pods at the farmers market on Saturday, and have been itching to try them, since I've only ever eaten them dried.

Tonight's dinner came together around the concept of coating them in a bit of brown butter, and so I took my small batch of blanched and shelled legumes and tossed them in brown butter on half of my single pan while an egg cooked in the other half. The vibrantly green favas only needed a small amount of time in the pan, so I soon replaced them with a slice of Acme Bread's Whole Wheat Levain, to toast, and sprinkled Broncha goat cheese over the egg. Granted, it's not much to look at, but its homeliness holds a certain charm, I think. And, if at all relevant, it was quite tasty.

Here are a few shots taken inside my apartment as well as with half my body out the window.

Thanks for following in this journey, dear reader. I hope you enjoy the photographs and get something more from this blog than the narcissistic journal of a nomadic twenty-something year old. Certainly, that is not what it's supposed to be.

You Said Farmer's Market?

Hello there. I know it has almost been a week since I last posted and that certainly defies my latest posting average of every one to two days, so thanks for coming back. My blogging frequency will be slowing down a bit as I get deeper into the semester, but I promise at least one post a week of something delicious. Just hang in there. I love sharing this little bit of cyberspace with you.

Today's deliciousness comes in the form of a quiche that I have been slowly nibbling away on since midweek. Considering that one of my roommates is a vegan and another doesn't eat eggs or meat, it was left to me and "roomie #4" to enjoy making this pretty little thing disappear.

I took two of the last three slices over to a friend's house this morning, and our forks dug into the cold, creamy filling as we chatted and tried not to get too excited for the farmer's market we were about to go explore.

Farmer's market? Don't you live in Abilene, Texas? Well, yes I do, and thank you so much for reminding me. But I will respond with the comment that once again I have been pleasantly surprised by this quiet little town.

So, we went with low expectations to a covered parking lot downtown and were greeted by friendly "good mornings" and beautiful produce (albeit a modest amount of it).

I bought red onions and assorted squashes and am looking forward to going back next week with a little more cash to buy a jar of honey. I think I'll be keeping in mind the filling I want to make for my next quiche, too, because I still have things to learn about this dish, and only time and practice will teach me.

For one, this was my first ever pie crust. I think a dread of them was instilled in me because my mom rarely ever took the time to make them. I assumed her lack of interest was because of their difficulty, and if my talented mother finds something difficult, well, I'm kind of, sort of doomed.

However, Tuesday afternoon I fearlessly set out to make my first pâte brisée, and it wasn't all that terrible. I had thorough instructions, thanks to WCS, but had to gradually grate the frozen butter in because I don't have a food processor. I may have been a bit conservative with the amount of water I added as well (erring on the side of too little than too much). It simply ended up a bit tough.

As for the filling, I modified Cook's Illustrated's Leek and Goat Cheese Quiche, using their measurements for heavy whipping cream, milk, eggs, egg yolks, salt, and nutmeg. Instead of the leeks, I sauteed baby portobello mushrooms in a bit of butter, snipped up some chives, and grated pecorino romano into the egg mixture. The flavor was fresh and the texture perfectly smooth, but next time I think I'll try a different filling because the 3/4 cup of whipped cream made for a heaviness and richness almost more appropriate for a dessert than a breakfast dish.

Too bad there aren't farm fresh eggs at the farmer's market...oh well. I'm grateful for something cheerful to get me outside before ten on Saturdays, until the winter closes in.

Un-sorry

I just read that readers find constantly apologetic bloggers annoying. So I am un-apologizing. I am retracting my sorry attitude and even being so bold as to venture into atypical territory in this blog entry.

Nothing dramatic. Just no recipe. No apologies. Still plenty of pictures.

I loved cooking and baking before I started this blog. However, I did not realize how much I loved taking pictures. I always enjoyed looking at photography and trying my hand at it while on vacations, but that was about as far as I got. It has been a joy to incorporate my camera lens into my (almost) daily life since One Hungry Soul began.

In the next month and a half there will continue to be pictures and stories posted on this blog, and while there may be stories about food, it will not be the central content. Without apologizing to you readers, who I very much appreciate, I will extend this question:

Do you mind? I hope not.

I'm doing a lot of traveling from here on out and simply won't have much time in a kitchen. Also, I need a break from pouring over recipes and from the immediacy mentality of our consumer culture, at least in food form. It is a constant desire of mine to find balance in aspects beyond this as well. But for now, I'm looking to eat simply and gratefully (not that a food blog cannot be maintained in such a manner) and will enjoy the jumping on and off planes I get to do until the end of July.

I've embarked on the first leg of my summer adventures, which means that I'm sitting at my aunt's computer in northern California. The crickets are creating a unified buzz outside (...or maybe that's the power lines) and the not-quite-full moon is shining down from an otherwise blank sky. I love this kind of weather. After a hot day, when windows are able to be kept wide open until 10:30, and the cool breeze is fully appreciated.

I did not find Washington in such conditions. Our windows remained shut during the two weeks I was there, and my mom and I spent several evenings curled up with blankets watching movies together. I began to feel like I had traveled too far north (or south) into winter.

The weather didn't keep the kids I babysat one afternoon from taking me to their mossy forest playground. They are sweet old family friends and easy faces to photograph.

Today was my first full day staying with family in California, and I was awakened by my little cousin who was likely sent in by my aunt when I still hadn't gotten out of bed by 8:30 (a late hour for this crowd). Only two things helped me get up: my alarm clock was still set to Central Time, so I thought it was 10:30, and my camera was within arm's reach so I couldn't resist using the morning sun to get some shots of my cousin, who, in all her cuteness, was alternating between jumping on top of me and tugging my sheets off the bed.

We went to the farmer's market this morning. Another sweet reminder of why it's nice to be on the West Coast. The fresh fruits and vegetables are so abundant. And my favorite Indian food stand was still there, so we left with samosas, raita, and two other sauces/dips.

I have two more days here before I fly to Hawaii. Oh. the pictures I will get to take there! I have missed my sweet Hawaii, but more on that later.