wanderings in Wine Country

Last year, about this time, I did a real jackass kind of thing. I invited myself along on someone else’s vacation. It was St. Patrick’s Day, we’d been enjoying all that Chicago has to offer on a gorgeous, unseasonably warm 70 degree day where everyone is Irish. My friends mentioned they were going to Napa and asked for recommendations. I then say “What? I’m going with you! You need me with you! I know people.” Obnoxious, right? I immediately apologized the next day and gave them an out, which they declined and invited me along anyway. That’s good friends for you.

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when a friend gets married in Höör, you go … Swedish Cardamom Custard Buns

I’ve always wanted to visit Scandinavia. I knew I’d get there at some point, the opportunity just hadn’t presented itself.  Yet.  Then during a trip to Napa Valley last June, there is was, right in front of me.  After many, many glasses of wine my friend Rachel leaned across the bar and said “Kathy, you have to come to the wedding.”  “Of course!” I replied, “I’m game for a road trip to Iowa!”  She looked at me, dead serious, and said “No, it’s in Sweden.  On Thanksgiving.”  “Wait …what?”  “Yep, Sweden. In the town my mother grew up in. Höör.”  And that my friends, is how I came to find myself in Sweden, in late November, in a curiously named town, in a tiny country church built in 1727 witnessing two friends tie the knot and enjoying a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner at the reception.  You can’t make this stuff up.

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baking bread with a Master

I spent my first weekend in France baking bread, which was fitting.  I was surrounded by freshly harvested fields of wheat, as well endless vistas of fruit trees, corn, sunflowers and vegetable farms as far as the eye can see.  It’s a stunning part of the country and  it makes me want to bake.  My friend Kate had scheduled a bread workshop for a few students with the esteemed Emmanuel Hadjiandreou, instructor at The School of Artisan Food in Nottinghamshire, England.  Emmanuel (or Em, as we would call him), his young son Noah and a colleague, David showed a group of us the finer points of making, kneading and baking the staff of life.  I was especially looking forward to working with levains or natural starters.

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sleeping it off in Gascony

My apologies for the radio silence.  Despite my best intentions to get posts ready before getting out of Dodge, nothing is quite done.  I’ve got a queue of half written posts – good ones too – unedited photography and a whole lot of crap to sort through.  I just haven’t gotten to it.  Fact is, I’m in France.  Doing everything and nothing at the same time.

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found time in NYC

Two weekends ago, I had the brilliant idea to take the last flight to New York City after teaching two classes for the sole purpose of meeting friends for dinner the next day. They were attending the IACP conference and while I didn’t get my act together in time to attend myself, I figured if everyone was congregating in one place, then I should be there too. When Camont alumni gather, you go. It was a good decision; I saw a lot of friends, met some new ones that I’ve only known through Twitter and over the course of two days I ate. A lot. You just don’t get a bunch of food people together without a little nosh of some sort.

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stretching summer part 2 … Cold Melon Soup

I have a long running obsession with French cantaloupes.  The memories of a chance encounter in the south of France nearly 15 years ago are as strong today as they were then.  The bright orange flesh, the heady scent and the intense flavor still sends me over the moon on those rare occasions then I can find these beauties.  Occasionally, for just a few weeks every year, my friend Pete has them at his Green City Market farm stand.  And that time is now.  I picked up two last week and another yesterday but the truth is, I was lucky this year.  Since I spent a good portion of my summer in France, I had these gorgeous melons nearly every day for breakfast.  I’ve never been happier.

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Michelin starred desserts at home – Raspberry Crème Croustillant

Oh summer.  You’ve sucked me in again.  How time flies during these warm, happy months.  Here it is, mid-August and suddenly I’m looking around at pre-season football fans in their Bears jerseys and shorts, wondering where the time went.  Well, I know where the time went.  Five glorious weeks in France will do that to you and I’ve been slow to get back up to speed around here.

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Pinch me … life in Southwest France

Isn’t it just lovely? This is where I’ve been working for the last 11/2 weeks and where I’ll be until Saturday. More on that later. At the moment, I’m sitting at a little restaurant in Sarlat-la-Caneda deep in the Dordogne Valley in southwestern France. It’s my day off from the restaurant that I’ll work at for two weeks in total and I’ve ventured out to explore the countryside. Now that I know how to put my little rented Opel in reverse (a problem I encountered on my first day-don’t judge) and have learned how to jiggle my GPS just so, I’m good to go. This morning, I zipped to Collognes la Rouge and wandered around the beautiful medieval red brick village, taking far too many photos of the same rooftops, again and again. Just couldn’t help myself. Then it was off to Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne, a village I’m sure is rather picturesque when it’s not sleeping and closed up tight. That’s the problem with small villages – people actually live there and during the week, they go to work rather than stick around to entertain me. Humph.

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behind the scenes … The Bangkok Four Seasons World Gourmet Festival

Whenever I get a bit down, I kick myself and remember that I’m pretty fortunate.  My life, crazy and hectic as it might be, is pretty good.  I’ve got great friends and have had the unique opportunity to cook and travel to some pretty interesting places of late.  Just last week I returned from a month in Thailand where I was lucky enough to cook in Bangkok for The Four Seasons World Gourmet Festival assisting Chef Gale Gand, one of the nine featured chefs.  Oh the situations I find myself in (hold onto your hat – it’s a reoccurring theme.)

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correcting lapses in judgement … Chicken Sour Cream Enchiladas

I just returned, oh a week or so ago, from a long trip to Thailand.  It was fantastic.  Absolutely fantastic.  Everything about the country is wonderful and beautiful – the terrain, the people and oh god, the food.  I cannot say enough about the food.  It was damn near impossible to get a bad meal.  Everything, and I mean everything from fancy hotels to local restaurants to street carts was amazing.  But I have this thing; this sort of food A.D.D.  Sometimes when I travel for a long time I need to mix it up, need to have something a little different no matter how good the local cuisine.  It happened after a few weeks in Italy (a rather interesting foray into Chinese.)  It happened again after some time in France (a happy trial of African food.)  There was that interesting meal in Spain, again Chinese and rather porky.  I’ve even a little ashamed to admit popping into a McDonald’s once or twice for a salty crunchy fry fix (Gah!)  And it happened in Thailand.  With Mexican.  Oh yeah, I went there.

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