Advice worth seeking

Back of the postcard, photo by Jill Krementz

Twelve years ago today Kurt Vonnegut sat down at his desk where he's written so many luminous verses before and wrote me a letter.

As a student living abroad in Australia I would frequently wander Sydney alone with a sketch pad and a pen - I filled pages and pages of poetry, observations, drawings and musings.  I was looking for something...I was looking for myself.  In many ways, I still am.  It was on one of the early days of my study abroad program that I wandered into an old Australian pub and sat down for a pint.  On the old wooden bar was a stack of coasters, the bartender slid one towards me before placing a frosty beer atop.  As I sipped the foamy brew, I looked down to see the words "seek the advice of everyone's advice who's worth having and then make the decision yourself" written on the coaster.   I immediately starting drafting a letter to Mr. Kurt Vonnegut in my mind.  He was the first person I thought about the advice worth having.  I drafted the letter over and over in my head and then finally in my notebook before transcribing it in a letter.  I introduced myself, my life, my thoughts, my feelings on his work (which had been very influential to me during my formative years) and then I sent the letter into the abyss not knowing if it would ever reach him.  I had researched his lawyer, agent and towns which he frequently mentioned in his more autobiographical stories.  And then I came across a PO Box in Long Island and something about that address stopped me in my tracks.  I envisioned him surrounded by hydrangeas like the photo his wife, Jill Krementz, had taken.  I put the letter in the outbound mail and wished it well.  A little over a week to the day, I received his reply.

I've read his advice countless times and each time I take something different from it.  Sometimes I agree, sometimes I don't.  But mostly I just add it to the encyclopedia of my life and refer to it whenever a certain kind of advice is needed.  And then I continue to make the decision myself.

Two funerals and a birthday

Poppy Carl & Grandma Jeanne in the Bronx

   My grandmothers were born 2 weeks apart in August 1919 and died 2 days apart in Januray 2015. They were 95. It's hard to summarize two lifetimes well lived in a space reserved for pithy commentary. But I will mention my Grandma Brondie's elegance, pride, loyalty and headstrong nature.  And my Grandma Jeanne's sense of tradition, stamina, innocence and perseverance. I don't use those descriptors lightly. Each woman encapsulated those words in my mind. And I can recall countless examples of those traits peppered throughout my memory. My Grandma Brondie writing strongly-worded letters to newspaper editors espousing the virtues of her liberal beliefs. My Grandma Jeanne accompanying us on a trip to Israel so she could plant a tree in honor of our Bat Mitzvahs. My Grandma Brondie's 66 year marriage to her beloved David who on his 90th birthday before blowing out the candles on his cake said 'I don't need to make a wish, everyday I wake up next to you is the best day of my life.' Or my Grandma Jeanne patiently teaching me her famous chicken soup recipe; I don't think I'll ever taste a broth rich with that much love again. 

Beautiful Grandma Brondie

I am choosing to take these memories and many others and carry them with me. I want to celebrate these women and their generation as I raise our family's next. 

Three days following the deaths, we celebrated my mom's 64th birthday. It was a bittersweet day for my mom having said goodbye to her own mom days earlier. But as the cold arms of winter embraced NJ our house actually felt a little warmer listening to my mom sing as Everest chatted beautiful babbles to her. My mom is now the Grandma. And on this birthday and forever more she gives to him the best of the grandmas before her. 

Young Grandma Brondie (and Grandpa Dave)



Grandma Jeanne and Poppy Carl at Mom & Dad's wedding, 1978

The whole family, Autumn 2002

The best known secret

Since moving to California a little over 2 years ago we've been chipping away at the check off list. Napa - check, Ojai - check, Big Sur - check... the list goes on... but now we have finally checked off another big one - Palm Springs.  Check.  And based on the recommendation of several of our most 'in-the-know' friends we found ourselves at The Parker Palm Springs indulging in the Glutton and Spa packages. Who knew one of the best deals in existence was waiting to be had in Palm Springs?  For each night you stay at The Parker you are entitled to either $250 in food (Glutton) or $250 in spa each day.  These packages are not to be missed.

While the Glutton package, which entitles you to $250 food credit anywhere in the hotel (excluding alcohol), is easy to burn through with hotel prices it got us through most of a fabulous lunch at the garden-side Norma's, a decadent dinner at the funky and trendy Mister Parker's and a delicious breakfast back at Norma's (yes, please to the James Beard winning potato pancakes with cranberry apple sauce and sweet carrot payasam).  The spa package was just as decadent and allowed us access to the adult wonderland that is the spa's grotto.  Kicking back in the Turkish style indoor/outdoor grotto with pool, hot tubs, meditation rooms and sauna was exactly what we needed to start off this holiday getaway.

Wandering the extensive grounds of the hotel property was like getting lost among a transcendent garden maze.  Around every corner we found private hammocks, fire-pits and fountains.  Strolling the grounds after dinner, the evening sky was completely unobstructed and free of light-pollution.  The hotel was surprisingly kid (and dog) friendly but would be perfect for a girls weekend or couples getaway.  The food and spa packages were almost too good to be true but I'm glad this secret deal came so recommended!

The Parker Palm Springs
theparkerpalmsprings.com

Paradise found

Flying into the sea of humanity that is Las Vegas International Airport one would never expect to find paradise just a few hours away.  But after driving for what felt like a small eternity deep into the arid Utah desert that's exactly what we found.  A tranquil mirage in the middle of nothingness.  And in honor of my father's 65th birthday, we were among those lucky enough to come inside the gates of Amangiri. 

The first thing one might notice, or actually not notice, is how the poured concrete and glass structure blends seamlessly into the desert landscape.  The massive building fades to the background when one looks around at the staggering nature. The epic desert, rock mesas and big skies become your habitat.

One of the most humbling and beautiful features of Amangiri is the pool custom built around a mansion-size boulder.  Wading around the massive rock, the warm mineral waters engulf you and all at once you feel very tiny yet very significant.

There were so many moments of peace and awe while we were inside Amangiri's walls.  There was the Dead Sea water sensory deprivation cave in which Adam and I floated  - quite possible the closest I'll feel to drifting in orbit.  The evening strolls back to our rooms - the pitch blackness punctuated by the bright Milky Way halo coupled with the sound of ultra-silence were deafeningly beautiful.   But mostly I'll remember the leisurely meals shared around a warm table next to a hearth fireplace - my family celebrating my Dad's momentous birthday as we all took turns holding the newest member of our family (Everest being only 4 months old at the time).  Seeing my Dad's beaming face as Everest's wide eyes reflected it warmed my heart.  I'll always save a special place for Amangiri.  And hopefully I'll be lucky enough to return.  

Amangiri

1 Kayenta Road
Canyon Point, Utah

How to sum up this moment

How to sum up one of the biggest years of my life thus far...

Aside from finally settling into West Coast living, we purchased and renovated our first home, I completed culinary school and had a baby.  One of those things alone would made it a big year but having our healthy and beautiful son solidified my position as the most blessed person alive. 

On becoming a mother...in many ways it has profoundly changed me but in others I feel exactly the same.  When we first brought Everest home we were in survival mode, as many new parents can attest.  We lived moment to moment, riding the highs and the lows and generally trying to find a sane equilibrium.  But as the dust settled I think one of the biggest gifts Everest has given me is my new ability to pause from my overly-planned and hyper-organized life and just live.  I have totally and completely embraced my new 'one-day-at-a-time' mantra and have managed to hold on to that even now that we're out of survival mode.  Every day is an adventure and each moment demands that you be totally present, especially when you're raising a person.  Having recently seen Eckhart Tolle speak, my view about the power of each moment has solidified.

And while Everest has given me so many gifts I believe that some of the best things I can give him in return are to remain my own individual person even as I fully become "Everest's mom" and to prioritize my marriage.  Our marriage is the most important relationship in my life; I know that if it's in a healthy and happy place I'm giving Everest the gift of a strong, solid, positive foundation on which he will base much of his future views.

I'll close with an Eckhart Tolle quote that I feel apropos to the past year of my life:
“Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at the moment.”

It's been a year...

It's been just about a year.  A big, long, life-changing, insane, wonderful year.  And it's not that I haven't felt inspired or compelled to sit down and write a post to my blog, it's that I feel like I haven't had a minute to do so in the last 10+ months.  I'm obviously exaggerating because I'm sure I could have found a moment to write a post, but I think I've been too busy living my life to sit down and reflect on it.  But today I decided that I missed good-ole' AMORtotheWorld and gosh darnit, I'm gonna make the time.  The posts might not be as polished, they might not be as long, but I'm going to try to reflect on the life I live and the things I've loved doing and seeing and going and eating.  And maybe I'll share it with a few friends too.   More to come...

Building my encyclopedia of tastes

The deeper I get into the culinary program at SF Cooking School the more I realize that I am, and always have been, curating a collection of food experiences.  Or as guest instructor, Chef Brandon Jew put it, we are creating an encyclopedia of tastes.  With each new bite I am enriching and refining my collection.  School has solidified food as art to me.  And what an artform it is!  There will never be a time when I can pack it up and say I've tasted everything that food has to offer and that makes this endeavor even more beautiful and exciting. 

Recently we were fortunate to procure a coveted seat at Lazy Bear, a San Francisco underground supper-club which takes place several nights a month at a warehouse/art studio. Forty diners are invited to sit along two communal tables and feast on a 10+ course meal created by Chef David Barzelay and his band of intrepid staff and volunteers (many of the kitchen and wait staff are stagiaire).  

When we arrived at the abandoned-looking building on a dusty industrial street a sign reading "Institute of Possibilities" greeted us.  We weren't quite sure what we were walking into, but like Beauty entering the Beast's castle, it was surprisingly warm once inside.  Once we were seated next to our new friends, the wine and conversation began flowing and mini masterpieces streamed forth from the kitchen.  As each dish arrived I was continually awed by the subtle use of unique ingredients.  The amuse bouche - an airy sabayon infused with bacon, maple syrup and cayenne.  The squab with grits, burnt cabbages, persimmon butter and chanterelles was a sweet autumnal plate.  Even the homemade brioche and butter were special.  Each dish was a highlight, each flavor a revelation and each bite was a welcome addition to my ever-growing encyclopedia of tastes.

Culinary School for 2!

One week after I accepted enrollment for the full time culinary program at SF Cooking School I found out I was pregnant.

They say there's never a good time to "schedule" being pregnant - and I suppose now is as bad a time as any.  So instead of withdrawing my acceptance or deferring for over a year I decided, with lots of support from my hubby, that I could make this work.  Better yet, I could succeed at a culinary school program that just happened to be the entire length of my pregnancy.  Literally a week after the program concludes I am due to become a first time mom.

I'll admit the school has given me a few kind concessions.  I can work my restaurant externship on a part time basis - after all I'll be 7, 8 and 9 months pregnant when I'm supposed to be working the line.  I've been afforded a stool when needed in class - although I haven't needed it lately!  I can break for a quick snack in the middle of “service” if I need a pick me up - and every day at 11am, I certainly do enjoy a boost from a glass of chocolate milk.  And my fantastic classmates have been so helpful - they take on all the heavy lifting (and there’s quite a bit!).

I wasn't planning to tell my classmates about the pregnancy until I really began to show (which could have been a while under the layers of chef's coat, apron and rags) but I inadvertently outed myself on the first day of class when I almost passed out in the 100° kitchen.  Pregnancy dizziness is oh-so-fun.  But other than that initial bump it's been pretty smooth sailing.  In fact, I feel like I have an extra little wave of encouragement hovering around me.  This is something I can tell my son that we shared.  He was present when I took steps to improve myself and enrich all of our lives.  In culinary school and out, I always want to be learning and striving to be the best version of myself. And I hope these lessons stay with our child for always.

The Grand Experiment

This weekend, in preparation for the first major exam of the school year, I decided the best way to prepare was to pick a selection of recipes that cover a wide range of skills we've learned...and then attempt to cook them all at once.

I invited a couple of forgiving friends over and decided to attempt this feat. Now you may recall that I came to culinary school with a great love and passion for restaurants, food and the culinary arts, not cooking.  I have never been an active home cook and no offense to my mother and grandmother, did not come from a home where cooking was a pleasure.  Cooking always seemed like a chore in my childhood home.  But throughout culinary school I have been determined to swing that pendulum and learn to love the process of cooking as much as I love the eating.

What I'm calling 'the grand experiment' (hopefully we'll graduate to 'dinner party' in the near future) began this past Thursday when I picked the menu.  From there, a trip to the restaurant supply store, a detailed shopping list and a step-by-step prep list we're created.  This was a complex undertaking, requiring a lot of thought.  Should I brunoise the carrots in the morning or while the soufflé was in the oven?  Should I infuse the milk while the chicken was resting or while I dress the salad? Should I start drinking copious amounts of wine before the guests arrive or after?* 

Now that the evening has come and gone, I can honestly say that it was a huge success! We began with a spinach salad with creamy mustard vinaigrette accompanied by brunoise carrots and best-of-the-season cherry tomatoes.  Immediately followed by sauteed Chicken with a mushroom and shallot white wine and demi-glace sauce accompanied by goat cheese souffles.  For dessert we had meringue 'floating islands' surrounded by creme anglaise and berries.  In the end it wasn't all the positive feedback that my friends and husband rained upon me, or the oohs-and-ahhs as they ate, or even the fact that everyone cleaned their plates down to the last bite that made me sure it was a success...it was that after the evening was finished and we were all glowing and full, my friends turned to me and with completely genuine looks in their eyes said, "you made it look so easy and fun."  It was in that off-the-cuff bit of feedback that it occurred to me...maybe I've transitioned from a person who loves to eat to a person who loves the entire food related process.  I just hope that'll be on the exam. 

*My mother would like me to note that in the end I opted not to drink any wine during The Grand Experiment. 

Heating up

As week four begins I am shocked at how quickly the previous three weeks of culinary school have flown by and how much ground we've covered in such a short time.  It's been a whirlwind of soups and sauces and knife skills (oh my).  And after we begin to master one skill or recipe, we start over again with the same but slightly different one.  My mind is full of measurements and methods and variations of all the projects.  

As we move forward I am becoming extremely thankful for the luxury of being able to repeat repeat repeat.  That's one of the primary differences between a robust home cook and a full time culinary student - the luxury of repeating the same project until you get it right.  Or really the luxury to get the project wrong and then learn why or how to make it better.  I'm also having a whole new appreciation for the expression 'if you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.'  Life in a professional kitchen is not for the faint of heart.  And while sometimes I'm screaming with fear inside my head, on the outside I keep telling myself to be brave and press onward.  I mean, what's really the worst that could happen other than scalding myself with 300° caramel or stabbing myself with my razor sharp 10 inch knife?

In all seriousness though I am finding my natural proclivity towards organization, detail and living with considered intentions are serving me well.  In fact some of my key take-aways so far are; do not put off something you can do now for later; clean as you go; be respectful of your tools; and above all organization and efficiency are your best friends.  These lessons apply beyond the kitchen...I just hope my husband can get on board with the new military precision efficiency being implemented around the house. 

Other fun thoughts I wanted to share.  Did you know butter consists of fat, water and milk solid - that's it - and if you remove the water and milk solids by heating (water evaporates) and then separating (milk solid will sink to the bottom) you are left with pure, clear, solid-fat clarified butter.  Think about that the next time you're dousing that lobster claw!  You can infuse almost any liquid (milk, water, liquor, etc) by heating it with an ingredient (vanilla, nutmeg, lemon zest, etc) then covering and allowing to steep.  Think of that the next time you have a tea party!  Making a delicious soup is easier than you think - sweat aromatics (cook sliced onion, leek or garlic in butter or oil until soft), add ingredient (any vegetable!) and stock, cook and then puree or blend until smooth and adjust seasoning.  Enjoy!