eggbeater

Royal Blenheim Apricots. buy & eat me now. Northern California & beyond.

Now is the time.
The time is Right Now.
If you live in California, USA or anywhere close by, and you love apricots

{photo by Anita Crotty of Married ...with Dinner}

The Royal Blenheim Apricot is in season right this minute.

AND YOU DO NOT WANT TO SEE THEM GO EXTINCT IN YOUR LIFE TIME

support the few farmers left growing them.

All this information just in from my favorite group, Bakers Dozen.

Dear Bakers Dozen Members:
The Blenheims are Here!  If you’d like to organize a carpool to pick some up, here are some sources:

 ♦Apricot King—Patty Gonzales’ orchard
Email:  info@apricotking.com
Phone:  831/637-1938

Visit their farm in Hollister, or check them out at these local farmer's markets:

Santa Cruz
2:30 to 6:30 Wednesdays – Lincoln & Cedar, one block off Pacific in downtown Santa Cruz
Los Altos
4 to 8 p.m. – Thursdays, downtown Los Altos
Palo Alto
9 a.m. to 1 p.m. – Sundays (California & El Camino)
Mountain View
9 a.m. to 1 p.m. – Sundays (Hope & Evelyn Streets)

 
♦Andy's Orchard
1615 Half Road
Morgan Hill, CA 95037

Store Hours:
10:00am - 5:00pm Weekdays
10:00am - 4:00pm Weekends
(408) 782-7600 and ask for Lorene

or
•    Sigonona's Market (Palo Alto)
•    Cosentino's (San Jose) carries Andy's fruit
•    Local Farmers Market @ Garden Accent
•    11155 Lena Ave, Gilroy, CA 408/846-4555 Thur  2-7 pm
or look on the local harvest website.

More lovely photos can be found on Flickr of Royal Blenheim Apricots on the branch, taken by Spidra Webster.

summer in the city. /july.

this is summer in the city.
wanton.
fetid fruit.
salt sweat lick lips
forehead wipe
going commando
sand between toes
watermelon
watermelon
ices, ice melting, sweaty glasses,
one long nap
sheetless sleep
clothesless sleep
mice in the oven
salad for dinner
gazpacho
tomato sandwiches
unbuttoned shirts
ties, despised.

this is summer in the city
teenage sex
drinking on the corner
nights as long as days
days that never end
months that never change.

this is summer in the city
coney island
the boardwalk
raw clams
little paper umbrellas
blow up pools on the sidewalk
unforgiving bodies
every age in every bathing suit
white skin aflame red
black barber shops packed every night
white t shirts
stoop conversations
walking the dog at 3 am.

this is july.

base. bottom. flat.
surely summer even if june didn't put out.
sticky, humid, smoggy, still air, dirty hair,
peeling skin.

JULY.

unapologetic.
no reprieve.
get on the train, get in the car, roll the windows down, flirtatious feet on the dash
show a little skin
let go your inhibitions
steal kisses
rest in the walk in
wrap a towel in ice and feel it drip down your back, breasts
short skirt
stare
catcall
chew gum
play dominoes
salsa music
white sneakers
hidden agendas
take chances
gamble on the unforgiveable
a pinch of this and a slap of that.

summer.

hot as fuck.
hot kitchens.
hot machines.
hot subways.

dogs panting
children passed out in arms, prams, mussed beds.

this is summer in the city
go to the movies
see a film
wear a sweater on the hottest day
in the coldest air conditioning
swim in the ocean
chew ice
fool
you ain't no fool
gooseberry fool
monkey in the middle  tomfoolery.

this is
summer
j u l y
in the city.

sticky pavement
tattoos
reckless
headlights out
bareback
broken glass
hidden in beach sand
dancing in the street
coming out
packing
confident
high heels
sleeveless dress
tank tops
peaches nectarines cherries apricots green herbs
coco helado.

this is summer in the city.
tropical concrete
city pools
city parks
cruising
urban beaches
the ice cream truck
stickball
rollerskates
first love
sleepaway camp
mosquitoes, canoeing, whisper me your friendship
melt me like marshmallows on chocolate
look up at a canopy of trees
focus on the horizon
sleep outside
picnic at the edge of the sea.
fuck me hard
forget me in the morning
leave laces untied
peel a mango back
teeth
face covered in yellow pulp.

july.
gratuitous heat, pie, watermelon seeds, bbq, sea swimming, shave head, ink a needle and push it into skin.

summer.
i hope you get all you can

picnic at the westernmost point, isle of skye, scotland.

all you know is that you want to picnic.


you don't know the land
as it rolls out in front of the car.

you look at the map
of this place you've never been
and you pick up a few nibbles
carrots, flatbread, 'crowdie' a scottish cheese, dark chocolate digestives (he says he can eat too many), blueberries, tangerines, juice. salt & sweet.


all you know
is that you want to eat outside
sit away from the wind
but still in the glorious sun.
you get to the neist point lighthouse. park.
all you can see are cliffs and blue blue sea
land stretches out before you: sharp and steep, rocky and open.


so you walk towards the edge
even though it doesn't look like much
your heart is open
wide open


and what looks like a few boulders
under tufts of grasses
is the place.
and very very carefully,


because the sheer drop is obvious,

you both settle in
completely hidden
embraced by rocks
and unfurl your little picnic
right there
at the edge of scotland.

gorgeous.

summer fruit desserts, in London.

I'm back working in a restaurant after what feels like many years. Moving thousands of miles can do that-- separate you from what you know, and remove the ground from beneath your feet. What was a recent experience can feel far away in lieu of disorientation.

For the last 11 years, the ground beneath my chef feet has been seasonal, local, mostly organic fruit; and my moniker, 'fruit-inspired pastry chef,' has been my guiding force. I have picked fruit, worked for farmers at favorite farmer's markets and eaten my weight in citrus and stone fruit many times over. I said for years anad years that I stayed in California for its gratuitous fruit array.

But here in London, fruit is an afterthought. Besides apples and pears in autumn, and gooseberries, elderflowers and strawberries in summer, which few do better than Britain, fruit comes from very far away and few people know when to buy it at its peak. Most fruit and vegetables are here year round, but flown in from various countries and continents catchers-catch can style, making fruit buying confusing at best.

And because few fruits are grown in British soil, they arrive with a high price tag. Using fruit as a primary focus for a plated dessert, here in London, is a bad idea, cost-wise. But also flavour-wise, because seasonal fruit in South Africa or Spain, or even a country as close as France, is probably not picked and shipped as ripe as one would hope.

All this said, I have found trusted places to buy UK seasonal fruit. And the restaurant I work for is produce-centric and we use an amazing produce purveyor, so I feel infinitely grateful/lucky to have well-chosen product close by.

That said, what desserts are on the horizon?

I'm thinking about tahini, white chocolate, bananas, tamarind, black sesame seeds, grapefruit; Thai coconut soup sorbet; manouri, strawberries & pink peppercorns; gooseberries, mint, rosemary, elderflowers & corn; mango inspired gazpacho; buckwheat & chocolate; brown butter, raw sugar, frangipane & nectarines; young coconut, black rice, caramel. For our retail shop I'm contemplating sandwich cookies, chocolate bouchons, Lamingtons, real graham crackers, verbena profiteroles, tart lemon drizzle cakes, peanut financiers, and rich bread & butter puddings.

Moving to a new place means thinking different. Cooking and baking professionally for a new public means learning about their collective palates and historical connections to food, fruit, baked goods, salt. I can still bring me to the table, but I have to compromise too. I can't move forward: careerwise, dessertwise, bakingwise; if I do not take into consideration new soil, new people, new fruit, new seasons, new pace, new price-point, new retail environment, new attitudes about communication/confrontation, new communication styles, new everything, really.

I look forward to changing styles a bit. While I will always be a fruit-inspired pastry chef, I look forward to thinking differently, in a new way, to meet my new surroundings and continue to grow. One can get too comfortable/ too ghetto-ized/ too smug in one's niche/ geographical area/ style. Stuck.

If nothing else, it should be interesting.

Underground Restaurant by @MsMarmitelover. Kilburn, London 13.06.09

you have been on twitter for a while
but when you move 8000 miles away twitter becomes something else, explodes
suddenly it's like when you first met the internet
everything new, you are innocent and trusting
and go to people's houses
you've never met, in Real Life, before.
Oneday
in the land of
nothingness that is neither working nor vacationing
you get a DM
'hey-- you wanna be a guest chef at my Underground Restaurant?' the person's name is @MsMarmitelover.
you say yes and head to her house
even though you have no idea what train you're on and how to get there.

you both talk about a lot of things.
but what catches your breath is that you speak of one of your most favoritest dishes to make and eat
EGGPLANT PARMESAN
you both agree:
when it's Done Right
it takes all day.
and an idea is born.


you know British strawberries will arrive just before June 13
and you don't know what you'll make for pudding/dessert
but you know it will be All About Those Amazing Strawberries.

while you've never been to or cheffed at an Underground Restaurant, you've done a fair amount of onsite catering and know you can handle it. you don't sweat the small stuff and you can pass on a few restaurant tricks. but it's not about any of that. it's about
COLLABORATION
COMRADERIE
COMMUNITY
ACCESS
REVOLUTION
HOME
HEART
GENEROSITY
delicious food.



to see the menu in it's entirety, photographed by the fabulous @MsMarmitelover, go to her blog The English Can Cook. The craziest thing you'll see is me in a dress in the kitchen !

My favourite lines from her inital post on our dinner:
"Shuna Fish Lydon is a specialist in patisserie and custards. What she doesn't know about eggs is not worth knowing."

*

For the photos I managed to catch between prep, plate-up, keeping tidy and generally taking in the whole scene with my heart and mind, check out my set on Flickr.

~

Underground Restaurants -
putting the u back in Guerilla.

underground restaurant above ground menu {ideas}

On Saturday June 13, Shuna fish Lydon is a guest chef at @MsMarmitelover's Underground Restaurant Extra Ordinaire!

Here are our ideas for what it will look like, although everything is subject to change because of availability

or whim.

bread
seeded crackers

starter
chunky gazpacho
goat yogurt granite + basil jelly
chilled fresh tomato soup, croutons

main
eggplant parmesan

salad
rocket + chicory + lemon + pinenuts

dessert
strawberry bavarois + strawberry & herb salad
rosemary shortbread, strawberry relish, ricotta mousse
strawberry granita, sheeps yogurt lebne, pistachio salad
carneroli-bay laurel pudding, strawberry salad, pistachio & rose petal shortbread

Menus are ideas, thoughts, musings, concepts, theory, themes, tradition, revolution, albums, one-offs, off the cuff, pre-meditated, conjecture, psychotic breaks, dreams, stolen kisses, drunk black outs, cock walks, demure courtship, powerplay, negotiation, vanilla lovely dovey rool arounds, theater, dance, Be Ins, walkouts, strikes, community efforts, and...

They grow in the ground, near the sea's edge, in our hearts.

I'll let you know via photos and musings how the day and night went once all is told, fed, washed, minced, chilled, forked, spooned, quenelled, poached, whisked, baked, tasted, nibbled, imbibed,

satiated.

Until next time.