Not a "Real" Restaurant

Sometimes when I visit restaurants, I feel like they're the busy I wish our cafe were, or they have the flooring I wish we had, or I like the chalkboard menu...the silverware...the salad.  I imagine that people can see right through me and know my ill confidence.  I think that my every decision has been misguided and that I'm a total phony and a failure...and everyone knows it!  I'm not a REAL restaurant. 

A night like tonight comes along though, and I have to embrace that idea as the reason people love our cafe so much...as the reason I LOVE our cafe so much!  We're NOT a real restaurant!  Christmas is a few days away, and people are having their holiday get-togethers, their office parties, their little lunches with friends they need to see and hug...the people more important than a Christmas card.  Those parties and lunches are playing out here, table by table, all day long.  Time seems to have slowed as we are serving food to people who cherish one another.  The urgency of everyday life, of appointments and commitments---has faded as the light of the season is shining bright. 

We had a romantic wedding lunch here today that glowed with that bright light.  The table was set with masses of sparkling twinkle lights and red roses.  The young couple was all smiles and nerves as most of their family is in China.  They'll travel there in the spring to celebrate, but here today, they enjoyed lunch with close friends and reveled in the glory of this new stage of their lives together.  As we shifted to dinner service, the goodwill of the day continued as different groups of our longtime friends came to dinner. 

Without planning, they all sat at adjoining tables and started to converse.  Bianca offered some leftover spaghetti that she'd made just for us, so some decided on  spaghetti for dinner.  I started heating and serving leftovers, menu items,  cranberry sauce from the office party last night, fudge, crusty bread---the food tumbled out of the kitchen to waiting "family"---one was reading intently (I've gotten my friend Laurie addicted to the "Under the Tuscan Sun" series); some were talking to those at other tables; some were laughing and talking animatedly in the shared room; Andrea Bocelli was cranked up on the sound system. 

So tonight, like most days and nights here, the cafe didn't feel like a "real"restaurant, where each table is distinct and people keep to themselves---where some might think it rude for a person from a neighboring table to speak or reach for a piece of bread!   Because here, in our odd and kind of misfit way, you can count on food and ease and comfort and joy!  Not a "real" restaurant, but the brightest possible, most magical light!

All Thanks to Wait Staff

We're living through our fifth year here at the cafe, and as Christmas is fast approaching, I feel a sudden and whole-heart gratitude to our wait staff over the years.  The food is only a part of the experience here.  The kids who have come to work and stayed as family, have been the blessing.  Certainly. 

My niece Laura came first, for a work summer imposed by my brother.  She was involved in adolescent shenanigans so he thought a summer of washing dishes would do her good.  She worked for tips and though she showed up here looking like Paris Hilton, she learned really fast what parsley looks like, how to mince garlic, and that she sure the heck better RUN when I call for eggs! 

Irma, from Lithuania, was dazzled by free soft drink refills, and in agony when people commented on the food and she didn't know the word---"oh no! What does fantastic mean?!!" 

Stephanie was a powerhouse!  She ran everywhere and cleaned fruit like her life depended on it.  She left us to work on a mission in Africa, and I imagine she's somewhere now digging wells by hand. 

Hannah was by far, our best dishwasher.  She was shy to wait tables, but I was glad she was in the dish room.  I have a special place in my heart for her, sweet girl, for her honor to a menial task. 

Kaitlyn worked for the summer between her first and second year of school at Notre Dame.  She really liked to be in the kitchen best, and was a helpful companion through the hectic days.  When she went back to school, she was elated to see chicken paprikas on a menu, but devastated that it wasn't made the right way---like ours, of course!  She brightens my days when she is home for a holiday and swoops into the kitchen to surprise me with a hug.  I warm up some paprikas for her breakfast.

Rachel, Ashley, and Hailey were only here for short times, but each contributed their special charms to the team with unquestioning loyalty.  They delight me with occasional visits. 

Megan spent a few years, but finally had to slow down---three jobs was one to many.  She'll be back though, I know!  Many times, she replaced me in the kitchen so that I could take my grandsons skiing and camping.  She made it possible for me to have some fun with them that I'll never have the chance for again, and I'm grateful to her forever.

There have only been two boys, Justin and Stewart.  Both of them came to breakfast and stayed! They've patiently endured the customer jokes about them working at "Daughters." Justin is hurt when I say that Hannah has been our best dishwasher, because he is a rockstar dishwasher too!  He cuts fruit just the way I want it---no wacky variation.  His sense of detail and his attention to the customers, his sympathy for the kitchen and his flexibility to be exactly where I need him at all times, is why he is unquestionably family. 

The first time I saw Stewart, he was standing in the kitchen door, asking me for a shovel!  Oh gosh.  A hawk dropped a squirrel into the pine tree and hadn't been able to recover it.  It had been in the tree...for a good long time.  On a busy Saturday morning, with the patio full of breakfast diners, the squirrel had finally dislodged and dropped to the patio! Stewart rose from his breakfast and made for the kitchen.  He dealt with the sad little carcass and stayed for a few years.  He is the fourth of four boys and was raised by a mom so affectionate, so loving, that he dotes on all moms.  I have been the grateful recipient of his kind attention and can always count on him to know when I'm in trouble in the kitchen.  Though he's busy with his customers, he always checks on me and catches me up.  Really, really the most adorable boy!

All of these sweet kids, and a little army of stand-ins, have made it possible for me to turn my full attention to the kitchen over these years.  My daughter Bianca has orchestrated everyone out there so that they've pitched in to help each other, they've shared their tips, they've socialized together, they've generously and unselfishly supported the universe that is our cafe.  People compliment me all the time on the nice help that I have here.  Really, I have had nothing to do with them being such nice people, I am only so grateful to know them!  Their role in our party here has been the greatest blessing. 

Merry Christmas.
Love, Barb

Beer-Batter-Fried Apple Rings

I like to explore the savory in sweet fruit.  I've grilled watermelon, peaches, pineapples, grapes---and made salads with nectarines and creamy cumin dressing.  There are a few though, that just won't have it---I think strawberries and cherries shout sweet.  But apples and pears are just so nicely right there in the middle of the road.  They can be so sweet, or can be the most surprising savory side dish, sliced and roasted with olive oil, salt, pepper. 

Apple rings battered with a beer batter and deep fried, are my fancy favorite.  Sometimes I sprinkle brown sugar quickly on them, before they can cool off, or I serve them just fried in their salty batter...in place of potatoes.  Either way, this is an easy going recipe when you already have a circus of food planned---perfect for the holidays.

Beer-Batter-Fried Apple Rings
Gourmet, October 1990
Yield: 24 rings, 6-8 servings

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup beer (not dark)
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (I omit this)
2 Tbsp firmly packed light brown sugar plus extra for sprinkling on rings
4 Granny Smith or Golden Delicious apples
vegetable oil for deep-frying

Whisk the flour, beer, and salt into a smooth batter, and let stand, covered, at room temperature for one hour

In another bowl, combine the lemon juice and 2 Tbsp of the brown sugar.  On a baking sheet, arrange the apples (cored, peeled, and cut into thin slices)

Pour the lemon juice mixture over, and let stand for 1 hour.  Pat dry.

In a deep fryer or large heavy skillet, heat 1 1/2 inches of oil to 375 degrees. 

Dip each apple ring in the batter, coating it well and shaking the excess off.  Fry in oil in batches, turning once---about 4 minutes.

Transfer rings to a paper towel to drain well, and sprinkle with brown sugar.

**My variation:  I don't put the lemon/brown sugar paste on the apples, I simply batter and fry them

Flourless Chocolate Cake

I have so many funny food stories, and they're from every possible crazy angle you can imagine!  I just have to share!  This one is about flourless chocolate cake, but I'll get to that in a minute.  A favorite time, with favorite people was the few years surveying for archaeological sites on Camp Pendleton. We got in the habit of potlucks on Fridays.  I'd bring food, a folding picnic table, and pretty Provencal tablecloths.  Everybody would bring something, and we'd enjoy our spread under an ancient sycamore...feeling like a photo from Sunset magazine.  Since I needed to be in communication with range control, I carried a radio that broadcast all conversation.  We heard a report that "picnic-ers" had strayed off the freeway and were eating under a tree...it took us a little while to realize they were talking about us; we heard that the commanding General wanted to join us for lunch; we heard that range control was out of coffee supplies---the next day, I made a gift of everything "coffee" I could think of, and while they sniffed at the vanilla cream (ma'am, we drink our coffee black!) they'd consumed it all by the next day!

Andy and Taline worked really well together.  They argued, they fought, they competed, but they kicked butt in quality of work.  They worked as a team when we had large crews or small, no matter what.  Often their arguments would carry over to lunch, so we would all be engaged then, in considering an issue they'd chewed on all morning.  It could be any crazy thing, from solutions to world hunger...ways the Turks could make amends to the Armenians...which fast food burger is the best...are whales as smart as humans!    We all benefited very much though, from one particular argument.  Andy had stated that he hated Key Lime Pie.  Taline wouldn't hear of it.  She baked a pie that night and brought it to work. 

We all LOVED that pie, but Andy was not convinced.  She made another, and brought it to work.  FOUR pies later, Andy admitted that he actually loved Key Lime Pie and that he had exploited Taline's feisty humor to make us six pies!  She was understandably mad; we were all grateful to Andy!  All this baking kind of triggered a craze in Taline for awhile.  She couldn't stop!  We enjoyed wondrous things from her kitchen, everyday for weeks. 

I recently recalled a favorite of mine, when I needed to make a chocolate-y birthday cake for a dinner party.  I'd never had a flourless chocolate cake till Taline introduced us, so my memories of that first experience---on the side of the road, in the shade of a rock outcrop, with the magic scent of sheep droppings and a sweeping view of the blue Pacific...are in sharp contrast to my present surroundings and the lovely party where I served Taline's flourless chocolate cake. 

This is an easy recipe, you can whip it up in an evening after a hard day at work, even when you've got to be up early to hike for eight hours!

Taline's Flourless Chocolate Hazelnut Cake
I don't have a reference for this recipe...Taline dictated and
I scribbled it into my field notes.

12 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 1/2 sticks of butter, cut into smaller pieces
6 eggs
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup hazelnut liqueur (Frangelico)
1 cup finely ground hazelnuts
1 tsp salt

Center a rack in the oven and turn to 350 degrees
Butter a 9-inch springform pan and line the bottom with parchment
Seal the outside of the pan with three layers of foil

Combine the chocolate and butter in a metal bowl, and whisk over a pan of hot water on the stove
Whisk until melted and smooth
Remove from the stove

Whisk eggs, brown sugar, and liqueur to blend
Whisk chocolate mixture in, being careful not to scramble the eggs
Stir in ground hazelnuts and salt
Pour batter into prepared springform pan
Place pan in a roasting pan, and pour boiling water to halfway up sides of springform
Place all in the oven, and tent the cake loosely with foil
Bake until cake is set in the center, about 1 1/2 hours
Remove from oven, and remove all foil
Cool the cake on a rack in the springform pan
Chill cake for 3 hours before serving

Happy Customer

We were slammed from the moment we unlocked the door this morning.  They were waiting out there in the cold, even.  They tumbled in all cheery and Friday-like.   I love them like that.  Things were smooth, and I was enjoying good timing in the kitchen.  I was feeling confident as breakfast turned into lunch.  A rare smooth transition, as tables often fill right then with people who want breakfast AND lunch.  Not today though, things were completely sweet.

Until Bianca let her guard down and took a crazy order from a table of four crabby older women who sneered at the menu.  They ordered several things, but wanted each of those things altered in some way.  The rule is "no" to that kind of order.  By now, the house was packed.  People were sitting on the stairs, waiting for a table.  Making this custom meal stopped the kitchen dead for 25 minutes.  Orders lined up but I had to put full effort to just that one order.  Everyone else in the house had to wait . 

I knew there was a small child at one of the waiting tables, and that her parents had ordered a cup of fruit for her.  In the midst of my monumental preparations for the old women (who I knew were going to want to split their check and would certainly tip in a miserly way), I took a moment to deliver the fruit to the child.  I grabbed a little condiment fork so she'd have a utensil that was her size.  Piper and Sasha LOVE those little witchy forks!  She looked up at me with a questioning face as I dashed away.  More messing around and the difficult order finally departed the kitchen. 

The family with the little girl was next up and as I delivered the rest of their food, they asked for hot chocolate.  I still had several orders waiting for me in the kitchen, but lost my mind and took the time to make the chocolate.  With people waiting and the clock ticking, I thought to pour the finished chocolate into a little pitcher and deliver an espresso cup that would be easier for a two-year old to drink from.  I didn't know or care how much time this took.  The thing is, we all spend that time and special effort for people who never even know...and often wouldn't care if they did take the time to notice!  Not this time though.  As I set the tiny cup in front of the little girl, she flashed me a bright thank you smile so dazzling that it took my breath away! 

The old ladies, who caused me to run behind for the rest of the day, did want their bill split four ways, and they did leave miserly tips.  Off they went to their self-centered weekend.  That little girl though, looked at me as if I were perfectly magic!  Though still a baby, she recognized and appreciated my special effort and rewarded me with a smile I will never forget.

As a Grandmother

I just have to share another Skye-written piece with you!  Kind of that obnoxious "look what my kid wrote," but I love it and the fact that my past life as a young mother is being repeated by my daughter in her current, present, now.  I'm young enough and active still to keep up with my grandchildren and I even feel them as my own.  I wonder though, when Emma and Piper and Sasha are mothers, will I see great granchildren as I see my granchildren?  As I saw my children?  I don't feel the advance of time so I'm just going to enjoy seeing and smelling and living it all like a fresh yesterday!

Preschool

By Skye Emery

Six times a week

MondayWednesdayFriday

I make the trip.

Drop off, Pick up.

Back and forth.

Crunching leaves, jacket pulled tight against wind.

Or breezing through in shorts and t-shirts.

Seasons change, trip stays the same.

Back and forth.

Smell of ammonia as I pass

Janitor mopping the floor.

Back and forth.

Children sitting inside on the carpet.

Patiently waiting to be fetched.

Walls stripped bare,

In between seasons.

Construction paper turkeys already sent home

Cotton ball snowmen not yet made.

Sleepy small girls

Holding my hands

Heading for home.

One day closer to

My last trip to preschool.