Day Five: Petaluma, Dinner, and the Company of a Fabulous Writer

Introduction:  I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there.  It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see this post for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life.  I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday.  Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods.  We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else.  This time, we would just head south and see what we could see.  We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans.  Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for.  

These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure.  I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning.  I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences.  I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them.  (For anyone who hasn't seen the previous posts, here are links to Day One, Day Two/Part One, Day Two/Part Two, Day Three, and Day Four.)

One of the squirrels who entertained us with their antics.

Slow start today.  Since we decided to stay another night, we're just hanging around and kind of refilling our batteries, though we will head out soon for a leisurely trip to Petaluma (about 100 miles) for an early dinner with Steve Hockensmith, the author of the spectacular Holmes on the Range mystery series, as well as much other Good Stuff.  Actually we have to leave soon, or we are going to dissolve into a puddle of relaxation and become completely inert, which would not bode well for dinner!

Weather like this made it a perfect getaway!

Breakfast this morning was an excellent baked egg dish, preceded by a cup of fresh fruit - cantaloupe, honeydew, and blueberries - and followed by fresh strawberry sorbet.  The egg dish was a mixture of eggs, cheese, ham, and potatoes, baked in an individual souffle dish, light and fluffy in the middle, seasoned to perfection, with a golden crust on the outside.  Very delicious.  And fortunately for me, Steve doesn't care for strawberries, so I got double dessert.  Heaven!  The food here at Featherbed Railroad is worth the trip all by itself.  (I think I'm starting to sound like a shill, but this place has been amazing!  I can heartily recommend it to anyone looking for a place to relax and recharge.)

Our caboose.
 With sunshine like this every day it was hard to leave!

The one thing I haven't mentioned yet is the weather, which has been pretty-near perfect.  Clear and sunny, but not too hot, with a light breeze.  The evenings have been cool, but just right for sleeping with an open window and no heat or AC.  We couldn't have asked for better.  Perfect for sitting and reading, or taking a drive, or really just about anything.  I realized this morning that we have not turned on a TV since we left home Sunday morning.  I haven't missed it, either, though I know there will be a pile of stuff on the DVR when we get home, and I will want to catch up.  But for now I am relishing the peace and quiet.

Beautiful and peaceful.  How could you not relax in this place?

Later:

From the Cucina Paradiso Website.
It really is this lovely, and the food is amazing!

Made the round-trip drive to Petaluma, and had an amazing dinner with the fabulous Mr. Hockensmith, who is just as great in person as he is online.  We ended up at Cucina Paradiso, a wonderful Italian place with a slightly-upmarket but very relaxed and friendly vibe, and truly incredible food.  We arrived just as they opened for dinner, and were the first people in the place.  We figured it was a good sign when the waiters were talking to each other in Italian as they set up.  Also a good sign?  The groups of people that kept coming through the door.

We started with a Caprese appetizer that was superb, and excellent baguettes with a seasoned olive oil for dipping, then the Steves (York and Hockensmith) had Caesar salads.  I skipped salad, knowing I would never be able to finish.  For dinner I ordered Capellini Al Pomodoro E Basilico - one of my favorite things. Steve Y had Spaghetti Cozze E Vongole, which he declared excellent; the mussels were huge and tender, and the clams very tasty.  The other Steve had Pollo Rotolato Arrosto, which he also said was excellent. (Yes, if we were really foodies we would have taken pictures.  I was too busy enjoying the food, just like the breakfasts and the meal at Blue Wing Saloon.  I'll go back soon and take pictures, okay?)

Six short stories.  A great
introduction to the
Holmes on the Range series!

We lingered for a while, talking about writing and publishing and how to maintain a career in the current climate; all the things writers talk about when they get together.  It's a conversation we have often with other writers, as the publishing industry goes through some serious transformations and we each try to figure out our place in it.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Steve Hockensmith, take a look at this marvelous collection of short stories.  You won't be disappointed!

We passed on dessert, opting to wander a bit and look for a coffee and dessert stop after letting dinner settle a little bit.  We walked a couple blocks, then backtracked and eventually ended up at Lala's, just a couple doors over from the restaurant.  An old-fashioned ice cream parlor decor, stools at a granite-topped bar, and excellent coffee ice cream, as well as many other flavors and concoctions.  But after our dinner (I had to leave about half the capellini because I was full), a single scoop of coffee was as much as I could handle.  There was more conversation, and we probably could have talked late into the night, but Steve H had promised to be home for bedtime.

Then it was back on the road for us, and about 90 minutes later we stopped a couple miles from our B&B to fill the gas tank, wash the windows, and replenish the ice in the cooler - all in preparation for tomorrow's sprint for home.  The plan is to have one last Featherbed Railroad breakfast, and then dash over to I-5 and head north.  With luck we will be able to hit In-n-Out in Redding for lunch, then Eugene for dinner with friends, and a final push over the mountain and home.  We figure if we get too tired we can always find a motel, but after four nights of a genuine featherbed, we aren't likely to be comfortable anywhere but our own bed.

Midnight now.  Time for a quick bath, and then I need to tumble into bed.  Morning will come way too soon!

Keyboard Tricks and Treats

So, I'm working like mad to finish the last couple chapters of MURDER SENDS A POSTCARD.  I am at the keyboard all day, typing and tweaking.  Trying not to freak out that this book has to get done.

Then I get an email from a friend of mine.  I have to admit, I have no idea where she got this picture, or who should get credit for the awesome that infuses it.  All I know is that it's a good thing I do not know the source, and don't have time to search for it.  Otherwise, I would be trying to figure out how to get my hands on one.  Right Now!!

I may have to go buy graham crackers and chocolate frosting, just to deal with the craving!!

The Great Cookie Mystery

With all the Southern cooking going on around our house as research for the Haunted Gift Shop series (hey, it makes a good excuse!), I am constantly picking the Official Taster's brain for ideas.  I want to know what dishes he remembers from his childhood, the things his mother, grandmother, aunts, friends, and neighbors cooked.

One evening recently, he started telling me about a cookie his Mema used to make.  He couldn't remember what she called them, but as he talked, I realized he was describing what I knew as a Russian Tea Cake.  Curious, I called on my Google-fu and started looking for recipes and history.  What I found was a basic shortbread cookie with nuts added, and many, many names.

What do YOU call these?

Online, I found Russian Tea Cakes, certainly.  I also found Southern Butterballs, Viennese Crescents (though with a variation in shape), Biscochitos,  Kourambiethes, Moldy Mice, Rohlichky, and Mexican Wedding Cookies.  At work, I offered several people samples, and asked what name they knew them by.  My boss, who grew up in Pennsylvania, called them Italian Wedding Cookies.  Another friend said they were Mexican Wedding Cakes, and a couple Mexican friends identified them as Polvorones.  Intrigued, I went back to online searches, and found Polvorones, with the speculation that the name was derived from the word "polvo," meaning dust, or powder.  Other friends called them simply Wedding Cookies.

I found versions with pecans, hazelnuts, walnuts, almonds, and poppy seeds.  Some recipes called for an egg, others did not.  There were variations with all butter, all lard, or a combination of the two.  The ratio of flour and sugar to ground nuts varied from 4:1 to 1:1.  Some had vanilla, some cinnamon, some chocolate, and one included orange zest.  Polvorones are said to date to 16th century Spain, with several regions claiming ownership, and some references claim the Spanish were introduced to them from Medieval Arab cuisine.

Of course I had to make a batch, which the Official Taster pronounced good, but not exactly the same as Mema's.  However, there are dozens of recipes for every one of the many names, so I'll keep experimenting until I find that magic combination that perfectly matches his recollection.

Making the cookies:
I started by toasting the pecans.  I have a stash of very good pecans in my freezer, thanks to the generosity of my mother- and father-in-law, who harvested them from their trees and shipped them to us.  I placed a single layer on a cookie sheet in a 350 degree oven for about five minutes, then let them cool.  This richens the flavor and helps reduce the tendency to turn into paste in the food processor.  When they were cooled, I put them in the food processor with a tablespoon or so of flour (another trick to help you get chopped, not pureed, nuts) and pulsed it until the nuts were finely chopped.

A few simple ingredients is all it takes

With the nuts ready, I measured the flour, powdered sugar,and vanilla, and softened two sticks of butter.  These are very rich, though they don't have a lot of sugar; the flavor comes from the butter and the nuts.

The butter should be at room temperature, soft enough to work.  The dough can be mixed by hand (which I did) but a stand mixer is well-suited to this dough.  If the butter isn't soft enough, give it a few seconds in the microwave.
Mix the flour, powdered sugar, nuts, and vanilla into the butter, just until it forms a ball in the bowl.  You want the dough to hold together, but don't overmix.  Refrigerate the dough for an hour or so, in order to make it easier to handle, then form it into small balls on an ungreased cookie sheet.

Cookies ready for the oven

Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes.  They will be faintly golden.

After baking.  Gold, not brown

Now comes the fun part.  Let the cookies cool for a couple minutes on the baking sheet, then roll them in powdered sugar.As each cookie is rolled in the sugar, place it on a cooling rack.  The sugar will cling to the hot cookies, but it will tend to melt into them because they are still warm.  That's just fine.

You're going to get sugar on your fingers, and that's okay!

 Resist the temptation to nibble, and let the cookies cool.  Because once they are cool, you are going to give them another coat of powdered sugar.  You can also sift powdered sugar over them, but I like to roll them, making sure the entire surface of the cookie has a coating of soft white.

One tip:  If you place your cooling rack over a clean cookie sheet, you can use the powdered sugar that falls off to roll the cookies the second time.  Because there will be sugar that falls off!

After the second coat of sugar, the cookies are ready to be packed in an airtight container, and enjoyed for several days, or weeks.  As if there will be any left that long!   

With a second coat of powdered sugar. Yummy!!

The Cookies of Many Names

2 sticks butter, softened

2 cups flour

2 cups chopped nuts - your choice of pecan, walnut, almond, or hazelnut

1/2 cup powdered sugar, plus more for coating

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Mix dry ingredients into softened butter, along with the vanilla.  Stir, or mix at low speed on stand mixer.  When the dough forms a ball in the bowl place it in the refrigerator for an hour.  The cold dough will be easier to handle.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Remove dough from refrigerator and roll into small balls, about the size of a walnut.  Place them about an inch apart on an ungreased cookie sheet, and bake for 10-12 minutes, until they turn light gold.  Remove from oven and allow to cool on the cookie sheet for a couple minutes.

While the cookies are still warm, roll them in powdered sugar, coating all sides, and place on cooling racks.  Once they have cooled completely, roll  them in powdered sugar again, and store in an airtight container.

Some Really Great People, and One Nasty Woman

A typical crowd of tourists, and mounted police

During our time in DC we were, admittedly, tourists.  My impression was that DC is a city used to being full of tourists; a city that has learned to adapt to the constant invasion of the species tourists horribilius, and the sub-species school trippius busloadius.  Believe me, there were plenty of both. 

For the most part, the school groups were reasonably well-behaved, though they exhibited all the faults of junior high and high school children in large groups: boisterous, high energy, clueless, and inclined to have at least one clown for every three or four students.  They talked loudly, they giggled, and they often didn't realize - as the very young so often don't - that they blocked the sidewalk, hogged the path, or disturbed their fellow travellers. 

Viet Nam Nurses Memorial

Some groups were better than others, though only one bunch were truly disrespectful - a group of younger boys who reacted inappropriately to a statue of Viet Nam combat nurses with a wounded soldier - and to be fair, several of the boys were chiding the misbehavers.  I suspect it was something they didn't know how to handle, so they acted out.  It's what kids do. 

They were children who hadn't yet learned they were not the center of the universe, small bodies packed with enough energy to power a small city, at an age where hormone floods make everyday life intense.  And they were on a grand adventure, a trip away from home, in a strange city.  Their behavior was to be expected.

What was unexpected, and delightful, was the Washingtonians themselves.  We were strangers, tourists who sometimes had no clue where we were supposed to be going.  With a single exception, people were friendly, helpful, and polite.  I'll tell you about the exception first, because bad behavior makes a good story.

We got good at spotting the signs

There was a woman we now refer to as the Elevator Nazi.  We encountered her once, and that was once too often. 

The underground train system in DC is excellent, but accessing it (Remember that scary escalator picture on the first DC post?) can be difficult for an older woman who occasionally has trouble with escalators.  After the first trip down the Scariest Escalator I Have Ever Seen, we discovered the stations had elevators, if you just seek them out. 

Mom, though she doesn't consider herself handicapped, does admit to being elderly at 81, and on the longer stretches she much preferred the elevators.  Coming back to our hotel one night, we got in line for the elevator back to street level.  We waited as one car filled, and the elevator made its slow round-trip to the street and back.  In front of us was a couple, middle-aged, well-dressed, top-dollar haircuts.  She wore good jewelry, and he spent the entire time in our presence with his attention riveted on his iPad.  They did not appear to have any handicap, they weren't toting heavy luggage, or small children, and they were likely younger than I am.  In short, then didn't appear to need the elevator, but they chose to take it, which was their right.

I wouldn't want to drag this up the escalator, either!

Behind us was a young woman with two small kids, one in a stroller.  When the elevator doors opened, the woman in front reached to hold the door open.  Mom and the woman with the stroller both stepped forward.  The younger woman waved Mom ahead of her, and Mom stepped in and to the back corner of the car.  As the rest of us waited for the young woman and her kids to get on, the older woman started yelling at my mom for crowding ahead!  She said she was holding the door "for the children," and kept it up while everyone else got on, even though the poor gal with the stroller looked like she wanted to melt into the floor.  Then another man got on, and his backpack was apparently in the plane of the door.  Miss Elevator Nazi proceeded to chew him out, repeating several times that he needed to move back, he was blocking the door, even while he was trying to do just that.

When we reached the street level, the woman and her silent companion rushed off, while the rest of us made our way out of the car, smiling apologetically at each other.  When the three of us (Mom, my sister, and me) were finally alone, Mom turned to us and said, "Well, I didn't know there were elevator police, but apparently there are."  We cracked up, and had several laughs over the rest of our stay, at her expense.

The other side of this, though, were the people who volunteered directions, offered Mom a seat when we got on the train, and helped us out whenever we asked.  Not living in big cities, we had forgotten about the traffic congestion that comes with quitting time, and the first night we found ourselves trying to catch a train at rush hour.  People were hurrying, and we were out of place.  No one was actively rude or inconsiderate, they were just in their normal routine and they wanted to get home.

Metro at rush hour.  Busy place!

Mom, feeling tired and a little unsteady, didn't want to push into the car with the crowd, and held back.  As a result, two or three trains departed with us still standing on the platform.  Worried about how long we might be stuck, I looked around and noticed a group of nice-looking, well-dressed (the DC uniform of good suits and ties) younger men a couple feet away.  Bolder than I usually am, I stepped over and asked one of them if they could do me a favor.  I explained that Mom had waited for several trains, and asked if they would help me see that she got on the next one.

Not only did they agree, the four of them formed a semi-circle behind Mom, and protected her from the crowd as she stepped onto the train.  It was a little thing, and it delayed them only a few seconds, but it made all the difference for us.

Another day, feeling like we finally had the trains figured out, we waited for an incoming train on the platform at another station.  A tall man approached and told us we needed to move down the platform because the next arrival was a "short train."   He explained that meant there were fewer cars and thus the end of the train would be ahead of where we were waiting.  As we moved to the point he indicated, he also explained how to read the arrival board to know the next time we were waiting for a "short train."

Mom in the Congressional cafe

It wasn't just the men, either.  At one point Mom and I were waiting in the Congressional cafeteria while Jeri retrieved a jacket she'd left in an office across the street.  Coming out of the office, she realized she didn't know where the above-ground entrance to the Capitol was, and it wasn't easy to find.  Frustrated, she called and told us to finish lunch, she'd just go to the trolley stop and wait for us.  Overhearing her problem, a woman approached and offered directions to the public entrance.  A few minutes later Jeri joined us and claimed her share of our lunch.

Jeri finally got her lunch!

Incidents like these happened every day, sometimes several times in a day. 
They lead me to believe that the people of Washington are among the friendliest, most gracious hosts I have ever met, proud to share their beautiful city with a flood of visitors every day. 
Washington is full of really great people.  That one nasty woman?  I figure she just doesn't belong.  Even if her address is Washington, she doesn't have the real Washingtonian spirit in her heart.

Cooking Up A New Series - Part Two - Hush Puppies

Actually cooking some of the recipes for MURDER IN A SHOT GLASS was one way of making sure I understood the action in the cooking scenes.  Once I was set up with the proper ingredients - or reasonable substitutes - I was ready to start cooking.

The banana pudding was already made and we'd actually had some last night.  It's even better the second day, when the vanilla wafers have softened and the flavors have blended from sitting in the refrigerator overnight.

I prepped the catfish, salted it, and set it to soak in a buttermilk bath while I worked on the hush puppies.

First I needed self-rising cornmeal, one of the ingredients I didn't actually find in my shopping expedition.  Self-rising simply means the cornmeal already contains a leavening agent, in this case salt and baking powder.  According to the information I found online, all I had to do for each cup of cornmeal was replace 1 tablespoon of cornmeal with a tablespoon of baking powder and add a half-teaspoon of salt.  (Thank you, Food.com!)

I mixed the cornmeal and self-rising flour, sugar and garlic powder and added the onion.  My husband was leery of too much onion, and I dialed back the amount the recipe called for.  Then I added eggs and buttermilk, and I had hush puppy batter.  It looked thin, and I had my doubts, but I dropped a spoonful in the hot oil.

Now THAT looks right!

I was right, it was way too thin.  I had little crumbles of cornmeal batter, not a beautiful hush puppy.  At that point I double-checked the recipe, verified I had used the proper amount of each ingredient, and decided I needed to fix the mixture.  I added some more cornmeal and baking powder, until I got a batter that had the consistency I expected, and tried again.

This time things went much better.  The dough formed little balls in the hot oil instead of falling apart like cardboard in a heavy rain.  The fryer would only hold 4 or 5 at a time, but I waited patiently as each batch made its way from gooey dough balls to golden brown globes of corn-y goodness.

My husband taste-tested one of the first ones and pronounced it edible, much to my relief.  In fact, after a couple tastes, he said it could stand a little more onion.  Since I like onions I quickly added a couple heaping spoonfuls of minced onion and stirred it into the remaining dough.

Patience is not one of my strong points, but these were well worth the wait.  As you can see, they tumbled out of the fry basket onto the paper-towel-lined plate all golden brown and crunchy.

It took quite a while to cook up all the dough I'd made, but in the end I was rewarded with a baking pan full of lovely hush puppies.


Since I had a problem with the consistency of the original recipe I am not going to post it here - at least not until I have a version that works properly.  But in the meantime, here's a link to a Food.com recipe for hush puppies, similar to what I made.  There's also a link to a Paul Prudhomme recipe that I want to try.

In the meantime, here's a photo of the final result.  I think they came out looking good, and they tasted great in spite of the experimental nature of the recipe.

But that catfish was still soaking in buttermilk, and my work was far from over...

(To be continued...)

Cooking Up A New Series - Part One

I'm working on the new series, and doing a lot of research to make sure I get the details right.  Research can be challenging, it can be fun, and sometimes I need to ask for help.  Right now it's all three.

One of the things that will run through the series is a weekly dinner for Glory and her friends Karen, Ernie, and Felipe.  In MURDER IN A SHOT GLASS the foursome are focusing on traditional Southern cooking.  For me this means learning some new ways of cooking (challenging), tasting the food (fun), and finding authentic recipes (help!).

Fortunately, my mother-in-law (a wonderful lady) was born and raised in southeastern Alabama, just north of the Florida panhandle.  She was my first call when I started looking for recipes and she didn't disappoint me.  I now have a list of things to try.

But before I could start cooking, there was the problem of rounding up typical Southern ingredients in a small West Coast town.  Especially a small town on the beach, with limited shopping opportunities.

To the Internet for help!!  I found instructions on how to make your own self-rising flour and cornmeal, and also discovered advice about using masa - readily available in a town with a large Latino population - as corn flour (when you look at the label, the words "corn flour" are right there).  At this point I'm guessing that  "corn flour" is probably the functional equivalent of "fine ground corn meal."

I hope.

Armed with this knowledge, I made a trip to the "big city" in search of supplies.  I found self-rising flour, several varieties of cornmeal, and a bag of masa.

Back home I consulted with my husband - an escaped Southerner - about what to try first.  We decided on a few of his all-time favorites: fried catfish, hush puppies, and banana pudding.  I've made a lot of banana pudding over the years, and I even had all the ingredients on hand, so that was no problem.

Catfish was another matter.  We managed to find some frozen fillets at the market, in portions large enough to feed a half the town.  Fortunately the woman on duty at the meat counter was kind enough to break up the package and sell me just a pound of fish.  (Which was still quite a lot for two people!)

Now that I had ingredients - or at least instructions on how to make substitutes - I needed the proper utensils.

The first problem was getting an appropriate fryer.  We considered using a pot on the stove, but I had a couple concerns, first and foremost being temperature control.  I have a lovely new stove, but keeping hot oil at a consistent temperature can be a pain, and requires a good thermometer and constant monitoring.  I needed an electric deep fryer.

I hit the local Goodwill looking for a deep fryer, but struck out.  I went in the Bi-Mart next door, hoping to find one of those miniature fryers that wouldn't set me back too much.  For once luck was on my side, and I found a nice sized one on sale for $30.  I have no idea where I am going to store this thing, but it was a great price, so we dragged it home.

Back home I now had ingredients and tools, all I had to do was cook...
(To be continued!)