Movie Review: "Chef" whets appetite for life

In an alternate universe, there’s a version of me scurrying around a film set, directing actors, looking over script sheets, and conferring with cinematographers and producers. In yet another, I’m whirling around a busy restaurant kitchen, chiming “oui, chef!” while methodically chopping, stirring, braising, and plating. Thus--since I am in neither universe--I hold a special spot in my heart for films about food, because they combine two things I truly love.

Chef, Jon Favreau’s newest feature, is my latest obsession. It’s an upbeat story about a frustrated chef who finds a new passion for his cuisine—and his family life—when he buys a food truck.

Plot: Chef Carl Casper (Jon Favreau) was once the toast of the culinary world, but is now trapped in a creative rut. He’s just as stuck in his personal life, recently divorced and struggling to connect with his 10-year-old son, Percy (Emjay Anthony). Carl’s frustrations reach a boiling point when he’s panned by renowned food critic Ramsey Michael (Oliver Platt), and Carl’s public outburst goes viral on the internet.

With his career in shambles, Carl reluctantly joins his ex-wife Inez (Sofia Vergara) and son on a trip to Miami, his old stomping grounds. Inspired by the city’s colorful Cuban cuisine, he buys a fixer-upper food truck. When his right-hand-man, Tony (John Leguizamo) flies out to help with Carl’s new endeavor, Carl, Tony, and Percy embark on a road trip across the US to get the truck back to LA.

Review: This is the perfect recipe for a feel-good movie: flawed-yet-lovable characters, a lively soundtrack, and gorgeous, lingering shots of lovingly prepared food. It’s obvious that Favreau (who also produced, directed, and wrote the film) did his homework to become Chef Casper, and he moves in the kitchen as organically as a dancer does on a stage.

Aside from the all the delicious food, what struck me the most about this film was the father-son dynamic at the heart of the story. Percy aches to be part of his dad’s life, but Carl is too wrapped up in his career (and misery) to see the clever young man Percy is becoming. When Carl agrees to let Percy come with him on the road-trip, not only do the two bond, but Percy proves himself as a valuable member of the team with his social media savvy.

And--odd as this sounds--it was nice to see a movie that was so intrinsically about men and male camaraderie that had nothing to do with violence or macho posturing. Carl and Tony work easily as a team in the food truck, and Percy’s initiation into their world--and into manhood--is filled with heart as well as humor and hard work.

The only complaint I had was the neat way everything came together in the end. Perhaps Favreau saw Carl’s journey as a father as the major arc of the film, but I wanted to see a little more conflict with the food truck and his career trajectory. The ending was just a bit too--dare I say it--Dinsey-eque, but maybe I'm just a little too jaded.

Overall, Chef is not a complex film, but it is a delicious one. In a summer filled with vacant popcorn flicks, Chef is like a hearty grilled sandwich: tasty, filling, and simple. Worth a watch, but make sure you’re not hungry going into the theater!

Figs and Goat Cheese

My lunch today: smooth and tangy goat cheese spread over a thick slice of hearty walnut bread, topped with syrupy-sweet ripe figs.

I love you, summer.

I honestly don't know when my obsession with figs began. As a kid, I definitely enjoyed Fig Newtons--with their cakey outsides and thick, chewy centers--but I never really had the chance to try the real deal until I was much older. Really, I'm trying, but I can't pinpoint the moment where I went, "holy bejebus, I need me more of those figs!" Like I did a few weeks ago.

It all began when co-worker/friend of the Professor's was throwing a little birthday bash. For the first time ever, we were "those people" with the toddler at the grown-up party.

I spent a good portion of the festivities alone on the back patio in an attempt to keep Bubby away from the lovely snacks carefully arranged right at his eye level. While dashing about after a whiffle ball, I surreptitiously watched the other adults relaxing inside, sipping their microbrews and chatting about science, politics, and travel. My stimulating conversation? "Look, Bubby! Catch the ball! Catch the ball! No! Don't throw it over the fence!"

I was about to throw in the towel when another of my husband's colleagues arrived with his wife, bearing a colander full of beautiful, ripe figs. Apparently, they had a tree just bursting with the little beauties, and they sliced up a dozen figs to share with the party.

One bite of the glistening fruit--served atop a cloud of blueberry-kissed goat cheese on a slice of soft, sweet French bread--and my afternoon was saved. It got even better when I was encouraged to take home a party cup full of figs. They were gone by the next morning.

Those figs haunted me for weeks. It wasn't a constant obsession, but more of a niggling craving in the back of my head. "You know what sounds good right now? Figs and goat cheese." I'm a realist, though, and I knew that a $6.99 basket of figs at the local produce market wouldn't be nearly as good as the tree-ripened fruit that had seduced me so. Or as cheap.

Then, yesterday, my patience was rewarded. The Professor came home from work with a little green basket of figs in hand, compliments of his colleague and his wife. Craving became full-on obsession: "Damn it! Now I need goat cheese!"

It was all I could think about this morning: "Make the Bubby's breakfast. Figs and goat cheese. Pack the Professor's sandwich. Figs and goat cheese. Hey, my friend just had a baby! Figs and goat cheese."

Obviously--from the photos above--this story has a happy ending. A quick pop into Lundari's market provided me the much-coveted goat cheese, and I even splurged to get the thick, dark whole wheat and walnut bread that I knew would be the perfect base. I was right.

My lunch was everything I'd been craving: simple, sweet, hearty, and creamy all at once. A little burst of summer on my tongue.

And you know what's even better? I still have six figs. I think I know what I'm having for dinner tonight.

"Independencia" Dinner: The Conclusion

"Still Life with Parrot and Flag" by Frida Kahlo (1951)

[Note: You can read the first part of this culinary adventure in my previous post.]

When it comes to my memories of "authentic" Mexican cooking, I don't have much to pull on. From my childhood trips to Mexico, I remember mostly delicious homemade soup and restaurant food (including a Christmas Eve dinner of El Pollo Loco).

During the holidays, my mother would sometimes pull out all the stops, slaving over dishes like chiles rellenos with red sauce, bacalao (salted cod), romeritos (a rosemary-like herb) in mole, and flan napolitano. I would invariably reject these dishes (well, except the flan), wishing my Mama would make a roast or ham or some other nice, normal American dish. Now I wish I'd been able to appreciate it more.

We still sometimes do the "traditional" Mexican-American Christmas dishes of tamales and pozole (pork and hominy soup), but time and taste has keep these old-world dishes off the holiday table for years.

So, it was with a real sense of adventure that I embarked on my mole-making quest. I'd rejected the 25-ingredient black mole recipe from Frida's Fiestas, figuring the red mole would be a little more manageable.

A quick note about mole: it is not "Mexican chocolate sauce." Almost all mole recipes are chili-based, with a mish-mash of ingredients that can include a bit of chocolate. This red mole recipe didn't incorporate chocolate at all, instead relying on cinnamon, allspice, and cloves for its spice, and roasted tomatoes and plantain for its base. It also included boiled pork loin, along with some potatoes and masa-based dumplings.

It was a deceptively complex recipe, full of roasting, blending, straining, and stirring. In other words, a lot of steps that I could mess up. I soaked the dried chilies for 20 seconds, not 20 minutes. The dumplings dissolved completely into the sauce. I even burned the sauce, leaving chunks of blackened potato at the bottom of the pot (we transferred pots, though, so it didn't completely ruin the mole).

The results:

Okay, mole doesn't photograph well at all. Just image the scent of roasted chilies, pork, tomatoes, spice...yum. I'll admit, all the little errors added up to a dish that didn't quite blow my mind, but it was definitely not a failed meal...

...especially when it ended with delicious flan.


Even after dessert, there was still one last thing to do to make our Independencia celebration complete: we had to hear the Grito de Dolores.
It's not a song, but a speech that is made every year on the eve of Independence. It's the battle-cry that the priest Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla gave in Dolores in 1810, to rally the people to rebel against their Spanish colonial government. This rebellion became the start of the full-on war for independence. Or so the story goes.
The Mexican president makes the speech from the National Palace in Mexico City, with thousands of people coming out to hear. This year's was extra-special, being the bicentennial, and was followed with an incredible fireworks display. Even if you don't speak Spanish, take a peek and see what I'm talking about:

I have to admit, I got a bit misty-eyed. Even sitting in my Bay Area apartment, with only a few loved ones, and even a day later, I felt a deep connection to my birth-country like I haven't in a long, long time. I suddenly wasn't worried about making "perfect" mole or representing my culture "correctly." I wasn't thinking about immigration reform in the US, or the drug wars ravaging Mexico. For one moment, I was just another Mexican, proud and free. It was...powerful.

So, all in all, it was a successful celebration. Mama has promised to show me how to make better mole when I come home for Christmas, and I think I may try some simpler dishes from the cookbook before then. It should be fun.

I hope ya'll enjoyed my culinary adventure/history lesson/trip down memory lane. Food is famous for bringing up feelings and memories, and this meal was no exception!

Culinary catastrophes build character

I should be working on a piece for my as-to-be-disclosed project, but right now my mind is swimming with images of melting butter, de-boned duck, vodka gimlets, and utensils being flung around a tiny Long Island City apartment. Yup, I just finished reading Julie Powell's Julie & Julia.

I picked it up as the inaugural book for my Berkeley Public Library membership (about friggin' time, I know), and polished it off in just under a week. I didn't love it. I didn't hate it. But it definitely struck a deep chord.

I know it's hip to hate Julie ('cause it's easy to hate people who become successful for doing what they love), and to be honest, there's a part of me that kind of does. But this is the part that recognizes the things I hate are exactly the same traits I find in myself. Which shuts me up fast and makes me appreciate her even more.

Here's the story of a depressed urbanite on the cusp of 30, who finds a direction for herself by taking a giant leap with her eyes closed. Is it easy? No. Is it sane? No. Is she trying to change the world? No. She's just trying to cook 524 recipes in 365 days.

She drinks too much. She has crying fits in the kitchen. She bitches about her job. Her apartment is filthy. She fights with her husband (a lot). In other words, she's a human being. Flawed, like the rest of us. Which is why I like her. She's no Martha Stewart. Thank god.

One thing that makes it easy to relate to Julie is her approach to cooking. She's not a kitchen goddess with eight arms, each coolly waving a gleaming gadget over her perfect culinary creations. She fucks up. A lot. But she's honest about it, and she keeps trying.

A lesson to remember when things like my Sweet Bean Pudding incident occurs:


This was supposed to be a delicious fusion of coconut milk-soaked rice and homemade black beans scented with orange, gently steamed in a fresh banana leaf.

What it was, was a friggin' mess:


I'd like to blame the vague cookbook directions, which lacked the proper instructions for working with banana leaves. But the cold, hard facts of the matter are that a) I should have known better than to substitute brown rice for white rice, and b) I didn't think about replacing the steaming water in the pot until after it had evaporated. At least, not until after the delicious aroma of steamed coconut milk transformed into the stench of scorching banana leaves.

And scorch they did:



It was so bad it took three days of soaking, plus a good working over with steel wool to get all the black funk off my best pot and steamer basket. To add insult to injury, I think this little mishap is what contributed to the burn-out of my biggest electric burner.

Did I cry? No. Did I throw things? No. Did I pour myself a big glass of red wine and whine to my lovingly patient mama? Oh yes. Yes. Yes. It still felt like a very Julie moment, even if it was Sweet Bean Pudding rather than Julia's Charlotte Malakoff.

Every cook has those moments. And every cook worth their Morton's knows the only thing to do is try again. And again. And again. Now that the burner is fixed, I actually can, and I will.

I'd like to think that Julie and Julia would approve.

Today's Top Story: Cookies

Happy 2010! I hope everyone had a wonderful and safe holiday season.

I just returned from a nice, long trip down to Southern California, to visit family and friends. It was definitely an eventful trip, with the "Holiday Goblin" -- that little bastard that ensures maximum holiday chaos -- working overtime. Despite his best efforts, though, the husband and I managed to have a lovely time, with much good company, gaming of all sorts, and oodles of tasty treats.

Speaking of...

In 2008, I participated in a holiday cookie swap on Craftser. Like many other swappers, I made my package, I send it off, posted pictures on Flickr, and moved on to the next swap. Imagine my surprise, then, when a year later I have an editor from CNN asking me to share my photo -- and the story behind it -- on their new social networking site, iReport. Shortly after, I'm contacted for an interview, and now...

My holiday swap cookies are part of a bona-fide CNN report.



Not a bad way to end 2009! Definitely better than how I ended 2008, and I'm optimistic things will keep getting better from here.

Hand: Bread and Dandelions

The weather has been so warm and wonderful here in the Bay Area the past few days. I've been able to walk around the apartment without socks, and can leave the house without my scarf, hat, and gloves.

The birds are singing, the wasps are happily building nests on the BART rails (a little scary, yes), and everything is just so green and alive. I've never considered myself much of a spring person, but after the winter I've had, I'm ready for some happy, life-affirming changes.

This little bread-basket liner I stitched up a few weeks ago really kinda sums my mood these couple days:



I made this from a single white dinner napkin I had floating around my linen shelf (I have no idea where it came from), using Sublime Stitching's Kurt Halsey artist's series pattern.



Here's the other side:



Details of the little bee/fairy critters:



Modeling it is a batch of Irish soda bread I whipped up for this year's St. Pat's dinner. I look forward to that corned beef dinner the way other folks look forward to their Thanksgiving turkey.

While I'm here, I also want to share the reason the weather has been so nice here: I finally finished my first ever, honest-to-god knitting project...a scarf for my husband.



Completed JUST in time for the warm weather!

I'm quite proud of this scarf. I love how the variegated yarn brought out a triangular/stripes pattern. Adam is also especially excited, since he admitted he'd never owned a scarf before. I'm looking forward to seeing him wear it come June ('cause it's true: coldest winter ever is a San Francisco summer).

Now, off to go see Watchmen as part of husband's long weekend of birthday festivities. He turns 30 tomorrow! Movies, gaming, and a trip to our favorite microbrewery, Triple Rock. It's good having four days off in a row. I can't think of a better present for him.

Mouth: Chocolate + Bacon = Pure Heaven

At this very second, delicious, creamy milk chocolate is melting on my tongue, studded with tantalizing gems of alderwood smoked salt and real applewood smoked bacon.

Holy mother of good confections.

I resisted Mo's Bacon Bar for months, partially for the hefty price tag (I'm sorry, $7 is definitely in the realm of silly for a candy bar) and because it sounded so...so...odd. Odd in that trendy, "flavor of the month" way, when bacon has been popping up in everything from ice cream to scarf patterns.

This, however...this is sheer perfection.

It's like toffee. But saltier and richer.

Thank you hormones, for making me cave in today. It's made my final Friday stretch almost joyful.

The only thing that could make this chocolate bar better was if it were shaped like a flying pig. I so hope there's one in my Easter basket this year.

Hand: Of Xocolates and Sewing Machines

Despite all the crap that's been going on, I know I am a very lucky lady. Sometimes it takes something as silly as a greeting-card-industry-holiday to remind me that yep, things aren't always as bad as they seem.

My V-day was lovely this year, and for all the right reasons. Woke up to make Strawberry Empanadas and coffee, and wrap the husband's present (a copy of Rumors, my second attempt to give him that CD since the copy I gave him for Xmas was destroyed in the car crash). Had a relaxed breakfast together, and went out to run a couple errands and pick out some amazing chocolates from The Xocolate Bar on Solano Avenue. Came home, watched Across the Universe, then did some co-op gaming until pizza arrived. Mellow and sweet. That's the ticket for all my holidays in '09.

Mmmm...Dulce de Leche, White Chocolate with Passionfruit, and "Aztec Amor" (with cinnamon, orange zest, and chili).

I've actually been doing quite a bit of crafting lately, though not sharing it all since a lot of it has been gifts and stuff for swaps -- including a Joss Whedon swap I just dropped a package in the mail for.

I can share, however, my very first non-supervised machine sewing project:

A sewing machine cover for my Singer Featherweight!

This machine was given to me by my mother-in-law about a year ago. It belonged to her mother, and hemmed clothes for six growing children for decades before it was passed on to her. I feel really honored she chose to trust this precious machine, this family heirloom, into my care. I was actually too afraid to touch it, until my own Mama talked me into taking it out of the box this past Thanksgiving.

My Mama has continued to fuel my enthusiasm for my this little machine with history books and pointers, plus lore about the Singer Featherweight she picks up at Quilting Shows and the like.

I felt this little machine deserved a special cover now that it's out of the box, and though the cover isn't perfect, it still looks a lot better than a dusty old case I was hiding it in. Besides, how can I not get excited about sewing when I see that on my desk?

I'm planning on making a similar one for my Kitchen Aid mixer (and I even have some adorable fabric all set). Who knows? This may be the start of a cozy craze in my apartment! Especially when I have a tutorial as easy as this one to work off of.

More things to post soon, once swaps have been swapped and gifts received. I can't wait to share!

Mouth: Frog and Toad's Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

How many of you remember the Frog and Toad books, by Arnold Lobel? They used to be some of my favorites as a child, and to this day I see much of myself in those little amphibians (especially Toad).

There was one story, called "Cookies," where Toad brings over a bunch of cookies for Frog, and they're so good they can't stop eating them. Thus begins the morality tale of willpower vs. gluttony, ending when Frog finally has to give the cookies away to th birds so they'll stop snacking.

That's how I felt about these Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies I whipped up Monday afternoon, I couldn't stop popping them into my mouth! Especially all warm, spicy, and gooey from the oven...

...I think I need to find some birds to share these with!

I came across the inspiration for this recipe when I was looking for something to do with the last cup of fresh pumpkin puree I had leftover from my Thanksgiving pie.

Usually, I'm good about sticking to recipes as I find them, but this time I felt a little adventurous. Throwing caution to the wind, I modified here and there, and the end result is simply delicious! I hope you give it a try!

Frog & Toad's Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 cup fresh pumpkin puree*
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup dark brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 large egg
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cream (or milk)
1 Tbsp. Vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup chopped walnuts

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Combine pumpkin puree, sugars, vegetable oil and egg in mixer.
3. In separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.
4. Dissolve the baking soda with the cream or milk, and add to pumpkin mix along with vanilla.
5. Gradually add flour mix to pumpkin mixture. If the dough is too wet (as pumpkin purees vary from pumpkin to pumpkin), add spoonfuls of additional flour until dough is firm and holds together (rather than running like batter).
6. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts with a wooden spoon.
7. Drop dough by spoonful onto lightly oiled baking sheet. Bake at 350 degress for 12-14 minutes, until bottoms are lightly browned and cookies are firm.
8. Pour a glass of milk of your choice, and enjoy them fresh from the oven!

*Note: I'm sure canned pumpkin will work as well, you just may need to reduce the flour to 2 cups.

If you want to make your own fresh pumpkin puree, you can find all sorts of recipes all over the 'net, or you can use the recipe I used from ReadyMade magazine here.

Mind: Hoping against hope & Halloween wrap-up

The polls are closing around the U.S., and I'm way, way too nervous to focus on anything productive. I know everyone and your mother has told you, but I'm gonna add to it...if you haven't voted yet and your state's polls are still open...GET OUT THERE AND FRIGGIN' VOTE!!! It's not too late!

I just have to share, I'm so proud: my little brother is voting in his first presidential election ever today. I so wish I could be there with a camera to record this moment. Hell of an election for him to cut his teeth on (especially in San Francisco, where there's a million initiatives on the ballot).

Okay. With that being said, now I distract myself from hitting "refresh" every thirty seconds on CCN.com by sharing my Halloween wrap-up, before it becomes completely obsolete.

First, I want to share the little plushie Halloween ornaments I made using Annie Oakleaves' adorable free Halloween pattern.



I forgot to take a picture of the back, which is a cute candy corn pattern. This is my first attempt at embroidered plushie-things, and I think they came out well!

Here's a close-up of one of the bats, chillin' on my calavera garland and taking in the stormy day outside:



One of my annual Halloween traditions is the mass baking of sugar cookies, which this year were little sugar pumpkins and chocolate autumn leaves. I love my cookie gun!



And, of course, our jack-o-lantern. My husband really isn't into the ritual sacrifice of gourds, so I was on my own this year.



He lasted a full two days before giving into the creeping rot. He was cute before that!

Okay. Enough distraction. I think I broke CNN.com, besides. I think I'm going to need to find a local pub in Berkeley to watch the votes roll in. No way I'll be able to sit with no TV at home.

Fingers crossed. Here's hoping there's good news tomorrow.

Hand: Cake or Death Embroidery

See, I promised I'd post crafts soon! This is the "big project" I've been working on, which I'm really quite proud of it.

This is a quote from Eddie Izzard's "Dress to Kill" stand-up show, which I was originally going to embroider onto an apron. It got a little more involved -- which made me hate the idea of it getting gunked up with batter -- so now it's going in a frame on my kitchen wall.

This is the first semi-original piece I've ever embroidered (as opposed to cross stitch). I designed the piece, drew the cupcake myself, and adapted Sublime Stitching's "Tattoo Your Towels" for the banner and daggers (I changed the design of the dagger handles a bit). It was a lot of fun to stitch!

The piece is roughly six inches tall by seven inches wide, and everything except the banner is filled in with satin stitch or long-short stitch. I'm not entirely thrilled with how the long-short stitching came out, but for my first time trying it, I think it came out okay! I also braved the metallics again to give the daggers a little shine around the edges. All in all, I'm really happy with it.



If you haven't seen Eddie Izzard before, you should definitely check him out. He goes beyond your standard stand-up comedy, mostly because of his amazing storytelling abilities. He can embody any number of characters in the same sketch, just by changing his voice and body posture. It's amazing to watch:

Mouth: Strawberry Empanadas

First off, I want to give a big "thank you!!!" from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has blogged, commented, viewed, or even just smiled at my little Han Solo Cross Stitch this past week. It's been friggin' surreal seeing something *I* made everywhere online...and seeing people enjoying it so much. But it's also made me tremendously happy through a pretty trying week.

The last week before a vacation is always rough, and this last week was no exception. Aside from a lovely, after-work knitting lesson from my brother's girlfriend, I barely had time to craft (or do much else) before the weekend! So, when Saturday finally rolled around in all it's vacation-weekend rosiness, I felt a special breakfast was in order.



Fresh from the oven, these Strawberry Empanadas are soft, sweet little bundles of delight. The flaky crust gives way to a deliciously gooey filling of cream cheese and ripe strawberries, making this a perfect, decadent weekend breakfast.

I'll admit here, I'm totally a frozen pie crust type of girl, so my baking sensitivities weren't rankled by the thought of using store-bought, refrigerated dough. Maybe someday I'll play with my own dough recipe, but for now, "quick and easy" are the words for me on a leisurely Saturday morning.



Strawberry Empanadas
adapted from the InterCourses Cookbook*

1/4 cup reduced fat cream cheese
2 tablespoons brown sugar (I like dark)
2/3 cup coarsely chopped fresh strawberries
1 6-count package refrigerated crescent rolls

Topping (optional)
1 pat of butter
1 tablespoon cinnamon/sugar mix

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Blend the cream cheese and brown sugar in a small bowl. Gently fold in chopped strawberries.
3. Unroll the crescent dough, separating the six triangular pieces. Plop about a tablespoon of the cream cheese filling into the middle of the widest part of the triangle. Fold up the bottom, crimping the side, then wrap the remaining dough around the bundle. Make sure there's no holes where the filling can leak out.
4. Bake for 16-19 minutes, until golden brown and puffy.
5. If you want to use topping, brush the pat of butter gently over the top of oven-warm pastry, then sprinkle with a little of the cinnamon/sugar mix.

Makes 6 Strawberry Empanadas.

*InterCourses is an incredibly sexy cookbook featuring romantic and "aphrodisiac" recipes. It's more PG-13 vein than R or NC-17 rated (*I* think, at least), so its safe on your kitchen cookbook shelf. It's filled with titillating and creative photographs highlighting some really delicious recipes. The Black Russian Cake, which they have listed for free on their web site, is a truly decadent dessert for anyone who loves chocolate, coffee, and Kahlua!

Hand: Veggie Dishtowel Details

This is one thing the Flickr to Blogger can't do: post multiple pictures! I wanted to show the details of each of these little guys (and gals). All from the Sublime Stitching "I Luv Veggies" pattern.

Tasty Garlic

One Happy Carrot

Sultry Tomato
(though gothpanda on Flickr thinks she looks constipated!)

Confused Orange

Old Man Lemon

Happy Apple

Hand: Veggie Dishtowel

Veggie Dishtowel Close-Up
Originally uploaded by Zhad_Squad
I'm trying out the whole Flickr to Blogger function here, so bear with me if this post looks bad. Or you've seen three different versions of it.

I finished this towel a while ago, but I haven't had a chance to upload the photos to share. I made it using the Sublime Stitching "I Luv Veggies" pattern. I have fruit on the other side, too, but the veggies were my favorite.

I'm rather proud of this one. I tried something a little different. It was all backstitching, but I did two layers of three-count threads in different hues of the same color. It added a little depth and texture, which was neat for the veggies. I'm especially proud of the garlic, which I feel has a nice, papery look to it, like real garlic.

Someday, I may post a picture of the awesome impression my husband does of the happy carrot.
Hmm...not sure I'm digging the Flickr transfer. It may take a little getting used to. It's nice to not have to upload, I must say!

Mouth: The Tea Party

Three weeks flies by way too quickly. Here I am trying to regularly blog, and before I know it, my weekend off to visit my family turns into 20 days of "I'll sit down and write tomorrow."

In these 20 days, though, I've planned and executed a surprise Mother's Day trip across the state, finished my first semester-long painting class (which included a five-week painting and an 11x11 painting for my final exam, both due this past Monday), locked sound for my short film with my brilliant friend/sound designer, and put the finishing touches on a tea towel I've been embroidering off and on. Lots of accomplishments and endings! Pictures will be posted soon of the completed projects, now that I have time to set up some proper "photo shoots."

I do have a few pictures, though, of my ambush-trip home. Part of the surprise for my Mama was a reservation for two at a tea room we had long wanted to try, Julian Tea & Cottage Arts in Julian, CA.


I'll admit it now, I have a not-so-secret love of teatime and tea parties. One of my favorite things in the world is to sit back in a foofy little tea room with an endless pot of black tea and lots of delicate nibbles, pretending I'm a graceful lady for a couple hours. It's a nice escape from my hectic (and often graceless) pace, where I can just kick back among beautiful things with good company and relaaaaax. While slowly caffeinating myself to the gills. Pure bliss.



Though the tea room was a little on the small side for my druthers (especially with a rambunctious family at the table right next to us), the service was attentive and the food was divine: beatifully browned sausages wrapped in flaky philo dough, crispy cucumber sandwiches with a fresh dill spread, and fruit-sweetened cream cheese spread over locally-baked raisin/date bread, just to name a few of the dainties. Not to mention, the home-made pomegranate jelly, which was amazing on their bite-sized scones. It broke my heart to know they didn't sell that heavenly jam to go...but at least I know where to track it down now. Well worth the hour-long drive through the arid North County hills (not to mention the flight down from the Bay Area)!