We had a mostly mild summer in the Bay Area, to the point where I felt a pang about wearing a cardigan on work calls while other areas grappled with searing heat. Several weeks had a local high of 72°F. Mid-July, we donned puffer jackets for outdoor dining in San Francisco.
Then the sun began beating down and our air conditioner rumbled to life. I craved something green and cool.
Read MoreThe orgeat separated. Almond-flavor-loving me had sprung for an artisanal version of this important mai tai ingredient, a special syrup with a floral, nutty flavor.
At the time, friends who lived in Hawaii before returning to Colorado inspired the doomed purchase. They’d brought back incredible rum — bottles, plural — and concocted the most incredible mai tais I’d ever sipped. On reflection, they were actually my first mai tais. Spoiled forever.
Read MoreWe couldn’t find the Japanese eggplant. I don’t know if Pacific Ocean Market was out or if they weren’t in season, but we’d driven too far to this store to come away empty-handed.
Reading Kenji’s summer vegetable lasagna recipe made me want to prepare it straight away, and he specifically called for Japanese eggplant. Guillaume, who’s not the biggest eggplant fan to start, pointed to a package of round dark purple softball-sized vegetables labeled Indian eggplant. “How about these?” he suggested.
It was the discovery that changed everything.
Read MoreThis was the happy kind of hospital visit. As we raced across town, the car trunk full of our friends’ belongings, all I could think about was what food to make for them.
The summer sun beat down as we brought the suitcases and diaper bag across the shimmering parking lot. This was not the right time for casseroles or cake. My mind twirled. A new baby had just been born. His parents would need fuel.
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