food, and other musings

Fish Tacos

Fish tacos are all about two things: the slaw and the hot sauce. Besides being crisp, a good slaw should be a little tart and definitely creamy. As for hot sauce, if it hasn't burned my lips off yet, what good is it?

These fish tacos are a go-to on weary winter summer nights. Since I don't deep-fry the fish, they're low-fat to boot. You know, so I can look good in my bikini as I run screaming through the DENSE GRAY FOG that cloaks the San Francisco streets right now.



Fish Tacos
Makes 4 tacos

1 bag pre-shredded cabbage, or half a head cabbage shredded by you
4 scallions, chopped
1/3 large cucumber, peeled
3 TBSP mayo
2 TBSP apple cider vinegar
1 TBSP Dijon mustard
3/4 pound white fish fillets, such as red snapper
8 corn tortillas
1 avocado, thinly sliced
1 lime, cut into 4 wedges
salt and pepper to taste

To make the slaw, combine the cabbage and scallions. Prepare the cucumber by cutting it in half lengthwise, and then cutting each half in half lengthwise again. Slice thinly, giving you small "wedges" of cucumber. Add to the cabbage. Add mayo, vinegar, and mustard to the cabbage and mix well. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Preheat the oven to broil, or prepare your grill. Season the fish with salt and pepper to taste. Broil until crisp and cooked through. Time will vary depending on the thickness of your fish; check after 4-5 minutes. Flake fish with a fork into small pieces.

Meanwhile, heat the tortillas. I prefer to heat them one by one in a cast iron skillet; you can also use a non-stick pan, or put them in the oven on the bottom rack.

To assemble, mound 3/4 cup of slaw on each tortilla. Top with 1/4 each of the fish and avocado. Season with hot sauce -- these days, I am loving Bone Suckin' Sauce Hiccupin' Hot Habanero Hot Sauce. (Say that three times fast...) Give it a squirt of lime juice and you're in business.

p.s. I know. An actual post. And a recipe. Could you DIE???

Love and marriage, love and marriage...

Thank God! I hope it lasts.

favorite song

Love remains the same by my other boyfriend. (sigh)

The only recent example of cooking in my kitchen

Blog Shmog. Perhaps pithy observations are like eggs; you're born with a certain number and once you're out, you're out. At any rate, the only thing I've done recently that might merit a food post (or any post at all) was to make chocolate chip cookies. Here's the recipe I use, but you can use anyone you want as long as you do two things: make the cookies BIG and add several graceful flourishes of hot fudge or chocolate sauce to the batter. Trust me.

Now back to the regularly scheduled programming...[crickets]

The World's Best Giant Chocolate Chip Cookies
Yield: approx. 15-20 giant cookies

This is the a pretty standard recipe -- I think I was using the one from See's semi-sweets -- but anyone will do AS LONG AS YOU DO THE TWO SECRET THINGS.

1/2 lb. unsalted butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
2 1/4 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
4-5 TBSP chocolate syrup or hot fudge sauce
2 cups See's Semi Sweet Chocolate Chips

1. Preheat oven to 375.
2. In a large bowl, cream butter and sugars. Add eggs, then vanilla, beating till smooth.
3. In a small bowl, mix flour, salt and baking soda. Gradually stir into butter mixture, blending well. Squirt chocolate syrup over dough (I usually make 4-5 turns around the bowl) and mix well. Add chocolate chips and stir.
4. Drop in huge spoonfuls slighter larger than an extra-large egg onto cookie sheet. You should be able to fit about 5-6 spoonfuls per cookie sheet.
5. Bake 10-12 minutes, checking after 10 to see how they're coming along. If you have to bake in batches, remember that the laTter batches will need less time to cook since the oven and cookie sheets will be hotter.

Here comes the weather

Jeff has posted one of his nearly finished songs to his band's page online, and it's one of my favorites so far. The mix isn't done, so the vocals sound louder than they will ultimately, but I can't get enough. I know I'm biased, but I think it's a damn good song anyway. Vocals by Larkin Gayl.

Turn off yer lights!

Saturday night at 8 p.m. people all over the world, beginning in New Zealand, spreading westward, and ending in San Francisco, will turn off their lights for an hour. I'm planning to join in -- what could be more elegant than having dinner by candlelight, after all? Whether or not it makes a dent in actual energy consumption, it demonstrates the importance even a small act can have, when executed day after day. I encourage everyone reading to join in, wherever you are. Who knows, maybe it'll be so soothing to eat by candlelight that we'll adopt it forevermore?

x marks the spot

Today we repeated last Saturday's taco lunch, stopping on the way so Jeff could photograph the spot where he proposed.

Imagine our surprise when we finally arrived at that exact bit of Polk Street, only to look down and see the following phrase etched into the concrete:

"Love is the way."

It's enough to make you gag.

But I'd be lying if I didn't admit it also gave me a few goosebumps. Total coincidence, I promise, and something neither one of us noticed until we went back today.

Does this mean our marriage is uncommonly blessed?

**

On a related note, I can boast with great pride that never once in the last 7 days has either of us uttered the phrase "popped the question." (shudder)

**

I am in wedding planning hell. As in, hell if I'm going to do any of it. I bought a few bridal magazines, but mostly they make me want to puke. All that white chiffon and ridiculous coifs. I'm wearing red, leaving my hair down like it always is, and if we do music it'll be a string quartet to start the show and and my iPod for everything else. If you know of any good Bay Area wedding planners, recommendations are welcome. So are caterers -- I care most about the food.

**

In astounding news, last week Jeff took his first plane trip since the accident that DID NOT GIVE HIM MIGRAINES! It's probably a tad too soon to say that for sure, seeing as he only got back yesterday and often the 2 weeks following a plane ride are doomed to pain and torture, but he escaped 4 days of the trip plus nearly a day home unscathed. Which begs the question -- could we elope after all?

**

I think we found The Ring. I'm keeping my hands maniacally manicured until we buy it just in case I see another one worth trying on. As a former nail biter (I would still happily nibble away but acrylic makes it hard), I am always sure everyone's staring at my hands. Now they really are.

Bling bling

That's right, folks. We're getting hitched.

Yesterday afternoon at approximately 2:10 pm, on our way to grab lunch at Nick's Crispy Tacos, Jeff (and his unwashed bedhead) stopped on the sidewalk in the middle of Polk Street and asked me to marry him.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

He nodded and I said yes.

Then we went and ate lunch. He had a chicken taco and a veggie taco Nick's way and I had a taco salad with grilled fish. One day I might want to know that, so I'm writing it down.

When we got home, I put on my great-grandmother's sister's engagement ring. What good is being engaged if you can't shout it to the world with a shiny rock on your fourth finger?

The long term plan is to design a ring around this diamond and some of the stones from Jeff's mom's engagement ring and so we're off to go window shopping today for ideas.

On being quiet

Bird notecard by artist Julianna Swaney.


It's been nearly two months since I wrote here. (Not including that throwaway post about how disappointing Lost is this season). There's no Big Reason, no drama, no disaster, just life getting too busy and swallowing me whole. I get up, go to work, work, come home, eat something for dinner I've eaten a hundred times before, catch up with Jeff about his day, watch TV, read, sleep. Weekends are full of friends and dinner parties and outings and errands. Truth is, there would be time to post something here or there, but my mind has been quiet, even though my days have not.

Still, I have a Big Announcement. Big for me, anyway. I don't make new year's resolutions, but I have designated this year the Year of Beauty. A year in which I prioritize making my surroundings beautiful. A year in which I buy nothing which does not serve some artful purpose -- function is not enough. A year in which I devour design*sponge and subscribe to Domino. A year in which I have already spent way too much money on Etsy. A year in which even my sticky notes must be beautiful.

My current obsession is with birds, a fact my sister pointed out last weekend. I hadn't even really noticed, but nine of the recent objets d'art I've purchased feature birds. Is it a thirst for freedom? An unconscious desire to escape and fly away? I'm inclined to think birds are just cool, actually.

**

Jeff and I finally ate at the Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton last night. We have been making and canceling reservations there for years, and I'm not sure exactly why. Sometimes we'd stop feeling flush the week we were due to go, other times illnesses and travel got in the way. But finally we went. It was meant to be a post-anniversary (eight years! And we forgot until a week later...oops!), pre-Valentine's Day celebration but then I went to LA for a week to shoot Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs for my client, and by the time I got back, two hours delayed and high as a kite on xanax, I was too tired to make it. We rescheduled for last night, one of the windiest and rainiest on record. Jeff put on his too-short black summer pants with his suit jacket, but we didn't notice until we were in the cab. He wanted to turn around, but I figured, fuck it. If I didn't notice, who will?

Dinner was lovely -- it's been a long time since we sat down to a meal that long -- and every morsel was delicious, even the ones polluted by crab that I forgot and ate and then panicked over (I've become allergic to it, like my mother and sister before me. Luckily, I escaped unscathed.) The truth is, though, I don't like eating that way any more. It's too precious, all these gossamer flourishes on the plate, two kinds of bread served with snapping silver tongs, bottles of champagne that start -- start! -- at $180. Truth is, I'd rather eat a roasted chicken from the grocery store with a baked potato at home with my friends. It's not time to toss out my pretty heels just yet, but, with one exception, I think I'm done with multi-storied meals. Despite how full I am, I leave feeling empty.

**

p.s. Angelina is pregnant again. Because, you know, having four kids under the age of six isn't quite exciting enough.

My current opinion of the new season of Lost

After episode 1: Yawn.

After episode 2: Yawn.

After episode 3: SAYID!!! YES!!! And then, yawn.