The Cooks Hangout

Over the past years it has become a  tradition to welcome our friends from San Francisco with a very informal get-together, a so called Brotzeit. The term is used quite loosely and open to all kinds of interpretations. Putting aside regional differences it’s essentially a cold snack, coming with all kinds of bread, sausages, pickles, radishes, cheeses and what not. And of course, sufficient supply of Bavarian beer!

Ok, we blew it, let our blog down. We had plans for our fifth blog birthday in March, big plans. We had talked about a major redesign, threw initial ideas and concepts in the air, hoping to see them fall on fertile ground, but somehow there was always something more important to do. A photography job, some design projects, and of course the new book. Yet, – bad conscience omnipresent – each time I visited our little foodblog, I could feel an increasing urge to revamp it from the ground up, to give it an opposite and distinct new look.

So odd. Despite this historical heatwave consuming us all alive, all I can think of is Tiramisu? Ssshh, I hate to know what that says about my personal craving profile. It was Sunday morning and neither the luscious cherries nor strawberries chilling in our fridge had a real chance of changing my mind. Tiramisu. Ahhhh, a small sound of relief, as I finally found the big cup of mascarpone, I had bought a week ago, buried behind half a dozen semi-emptied glasses of homemade jam (major recipe testing underway…). I had farm-fresh eggs and some ladyfingers in the pantry…, so I thought. But wait, didn’t I use them all up for a trifle?

What is the deal with Caesar salad?? I’ve ordered it in many different places from neighborhood cafes here in Munich, to stylish places in California or Budapest. If there’s no dish on a restaurant’s menu that coaxes me instantly AND the place happens to offers Caesar salad – plan B is an easy one. That, however, doesn’t automatically mean that all of my Caesar salad endeavors have been pleasurable ones. Quite the contrary, in fact I’ve had really bad ones. Either my expectations towards this very salad are way out of reach for most restaurants or serving this classic gives chefs a good excuse to put a perfectly good label on mediocre food quality delivered. Limp leaves, drowned in way too much dressing, over the top garlicy or Parmesan cluttered – all these things can quickly ruin an otherwise beautifully balanced mix.

One of the very few things I regret during our last trip to California was bad timing. We had read about Humphry Slocombe’s prosciutto ice cream (among many other unusual flavors) and it quickly made it to the top of our list. However the day we went, we were told -by the the friendly girl behind the counter- that it was  in the making and would take another day – the day we’d already be on our way to Los Angeles. Of course we returned to the Mission District as soon as we returned to San Francisco, yet were out of luck again. We tried. But no prosciutto ice cream for us. Sure, the other flavors available gave their best shot at making up for this (tiny) letdown and their Secret Breakfast was especially successful. My favorite! And of course not to miss their Boccolone Lard Caramels. Come on, how can you not love an ice cream shop, where they offer you to sample almost all of their available flavors?

If you count yourself to the species of people who have a hard time understanding the appeal of porridge and to see charisma in baked oats recipes, hey I’m with you, I completely understand what you are going through, I once was on the dark side your side. Once. Until now. Problem being, I can’t rationalize or even remotely have a logical explanation for what made me head back to the kitchen late last evening after stumbling upon Macheesmo’s recipe. Believe me, I’m not the type of girl who is easily impressed by the words oats or oatmeal, quite the contrary. Maybe reading the recipe has put a spell on me?

Last year, pretty much around the same time, we had a long meeting at my editor’s place. The sun was shining, all attendees were bursting of enthusiasm, and the location – a spacious shadowy balcony overlooking the neighborhood of Au-Haidhausen – was the ultimate place one could wish for on a hot summer day. It was the kick-off meeting for a new cookbook project.

I know. It’s been a while. But there are two major projects that keep me busy around the clock right now. Not that I’m complaining, far from it! And yet my days only have those ridiculous few 24 hours, no matter how hard I keep trying to squeeze in some extra minutes. What projects, you might ask? I’ll give you the scoop in a bit.

Some recipes need a second chance. Sometimes, all it takes is a different list of ingredients or change of environment. Both can act as a breath of fresh air to a food experience you hastily labeled unspectacular – or simply dull. Popovers are my prime example here, I had some rather unsatisfying samples more than ten years ago on a road-trip through Georgia and have done my best to not give them the time of day ever since. Until our recent stay in Carmel-by-the-sea, where we had booked a room at the Cypress Inn, co-owned by Hollywood icon Doris Day. (confession: I love Doris Day movies. Always have, always will!)

It’s not like we had much of a choice – no blue or red pill- , but after our recent trip to  sunny California, including some road-trip side-adventure, getting settled again in Munich turned out to be a real challenge.