Food of the Gods ~ Breakfast!

OK, OK, it has taken me three days, but, I finally have a supply of my wild smoked salmon for breakfast again. I get kindah anxious when my stash gets low. (You will recall ~ I am a repeat eater.)

My colleague, Ramses, is happy as well. We have an agreement. He gets the salmon skin and the last bite of each half. A nice way to start the day ~ everyone happy.

Day 9 Everyday Grateful ~ a lovely warm sunny morning, my favourite breakfast with my favourite hound. Heaven!

Food of the Gods ~ Wild Salmon Part Deux

The wild salmon has marinated covered in my refrigerator for about 36 hours. In preparation to the next step, I covered my maple butcher block counter with cut-up kraft grocery bags.

Then, I put the grates from my smoker on the counter just before I took the large enameled roaster out of the refrigerator. It's a good idea to spray the grates with oil (I don't always remember which is one of the reasons I smoke my wild salmon with the skins on.)

Once I have the marinated pieces placed on the grates, I turn on the fan.

There are several keys to successful smoked fish. First is fish worth smoking ~ fresh, fresh, fresh and wild, wild, wild. Next is your marinade. I've posted a link below for a site I used at the beginning of my wild smoked salmon journey. The final next step before putting the fish in the smoker ~ form the pellicle. This glaze or film helps the smoke adhere to the fish.

Don't make the rookie mistake and smoke your fish without this step. There are several ways to form the pellicle. I usually put the salmon pieces on the racks and turn the fan on them for at least 2 hours. You can go longer. Don't worry, the salt protects the fish. Doing it in the house means fewer opportunities for flying insects. But, I must remain vigilant. Ramses can surf the counters without even raising his head.

You can also allow them to dry outside on a breezy day. When I do that, I cover the fish on the grates with cheese cloth from my giant cheese cloth roll I have that I have no idea when or why it arrived in my studio. Now, I use it when I smoke my fish.

While the pellicle is forming, I start soaking the wood chips.

Now, into the smoker. I have three racks. I've rigged two additional smaller racks to hang under the top two racks. I really had a lot of fish this time. I was a little worried about adding the extra racks so I called Byron. He assured me the smoke would get to all the fish and I could make use of the space between the factory installed grates. I'll let you know.

The key is to put the thinner pieces on the top rack. In about an hour, I'll start checking the fish on the remaining racks for doneness (is that a word?) It's OK to remove fish from the top rack if it is done and leave the lower racks which have thicker fish on them. Do keep checking them often. It's easy to overcook. They will still be delicious, just not as moist as you might want them.



Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

My client called to ask about some handmade tile. I asked her to come by for dinner since she was coming from so far. Let's mange, OK. With that decided, it's off to the store for fresh romaine and other salady things. Mmmm, maybe some risotto to go with the Smoked Salmon Caesar. Back on a flash!

OMG ~ almost done.

Oh, yeah! We have lift-off! Meet you in the kitchen.

The dinner party that started out with one, ended up with six! The picture is less than to be hoped for but the Smoked Salmon Caesar salad? Divine! You know it is good when people offer to help empty the smoker. Then, they crowd around as you bring out each layer and take a piece to munch on as they go back to the kitchen. Oh, that makes me feel so good!

Wild Salmon is a clean and elegant food. Smoked Wild Salmon really is the food of the Gods.

Here is another capital "T" truth ~

If you care about the future, protect wild salmon. Everything our children need, wild salmon need ~ clean air, clean water, abundant food and a healthy place to live.

For more information ~ www.greatwildsalmonrun.org

Hank Shaw has excellent step-by-step instructions. Between he and my friend, Byron, I  gained the confidence to try this amazing process. The truth is ~ it really is easy. Sure, it's time consuming, but . . . oh, the results! Heavenly

http://fishcooking.about.com/od/smokebrine/ss/smokingfish.htm

Day 8+ Everyday Grateful ~ friends over for dinner and eating freshly smoked wild salmon. Oh, dear ~ how wonderful is that!

Food of the Gods ~ Wild Smoked Salmon

For about fifteen years, I've been a vegetarian. Well, there is the whole "I do eat fish" thing, but, meat? Not so much. In fact, almost never. In the olden days, I really, really craved steak. Steers feared me. When I stopped eating beef, chicken, and pork, etc., I thought I would really miss it, but, I didn't. Quite the little surprise.

Several years ago, my friend, Barb the gourmand, called me to say she had read an article about the four or five types of eaters. Going over the list together, it was clear ~ I'm a repeat eater. I like knowing what my breakfast is, what it's going to taste like. It feels like a calm start to the day. Over time, I found I prefer savory to sweet and because I live in Seattle (I suppose) ~ fresh ground dark roast coffee prepared using a French press with whole milk. I like it best when the resulting colour matches, say, the "Moroccan Sand" paint chip I might have hanging around. Delicious and no surprises.

I started having smoked salmon with my fresh bagel, sliced tomato, capers and cream cheese many, many years ago. I used to buy Jensen's smoked salmon literally by the case at my local market. Their smoked wild salmon was delicious, well-priced and I liked supporting a local company. Then, they had a falling out with my market and I was left fending for myself.

While searching for a replacement, I found out there is some very bad smoked salmon on the market. Sheesh!

Now, here are the two capital "T" truths about smoked salmon: First, it must be wild caught. Farmed salmon is filthy and very, very bad for the environment. Second, no preservatives. The smoking process is the preservative. If the smoked salmon you buy has any of these two no-no's, don't buy it.

My own smoked wild salmon journey stated innocently enough.

Last spring, I was having a meeting with one of the members of my board at his home on Capitol Hill in Seattle. We sat at a small round table in his fully restored 100 year old kitchen and had fresh coffee and a small plate of smoked salmon. OMG ~ it was utterly delicious. When I asked him where he bought it, he said he smoked it himself. "It's not hard to do, you know."

Thus began my quest for perfect smoked salmon. Gawd, I'm such a little over-achiever! Researching ~ reading ~ talking with experts. After gathering all the information I could, I jumped in the deep end of all things wild salmon, but since, times are, in fact, tough, I started out with a used smoker on Craigslist. $40.



Four months later, a vacuum sealer from Craigslist. In the next few months, I'll get a small chest freezer for the garage. But, as I gather all my equipment, I keep smoking salmon. Batch after batch, I work on perfecting my marinade. Trial and error.

Last Christmas, I smoked eight wild salmon and gave smoked wild salmon for presents.

Today, I bought four wild Sockeye and brought them home. They averaged around 7# ~ bigger than I've been buying. So, I'm up to my eyes in marinating wild salmon. On Wednesday morning, I'll put them in the smoker. (It makes my mouth water just thinking about it.)

This year, I'm looking forward to buying directly from the tribes. My friend, Byron, buys 100# at a time, smokes it, seals it and has it for months from the freezer. He's going to take me to his special location to buy it directly. Can't wait. I'll keep you posted.

I'll post pictures of the salmon in the smoker so you can see how wonderful it is.

Day 6 Everyday Grateful ~ being confident, capable, resourceful ~ acquiring new skills, trying new things

If you care about the future, protect wild salmon. Everything our children need, wild salmon need ~ clean air, clean water, abundant food and a healthy place to live.

For more information ~ www.greatwildsalmonrun.org

Spring in Seattle

What a lovely morning. I'm getting ready to go my friend, Barb's house for Easter brunch, but I just had to take a walk in the garden again this morning.

Last fall, when I bought forty pounds (or, was it eighty? I forget. Anyway, it was a lot!) of King Alfred daffodils, I imagined how wonderful the pots would look in the spring. As I've said before, planting bulbs shows faith in the future.

Now, we are seeing the results of that crazy idea. It's a daffodil riot outside. And, best of all they are just starting to open their heads. I love the way they respond to the sigh of the wind as it moves through the garden. 

Atmospheric. Transcendent. Hopeful. Beautiful.

My friend, Karen's husband Ron came by yesterday. He's the pressure washing king. He got all the Seattle winter moss and slime off the back deck. We are now ready for breakfast and dinner over looking the back yard.












I love this time of year. Each day, we are gathering light. The ground is warming. The energy of returning life is everywhere.

This next week, let's chat about garden art.

Happy Easter

Day 4 Everyday Grateful ~ a long, laugh-filled phone call

from The Bear.

When Did The Recession Start for You?

This past weekend, my friends and I worked in the yard. As I was teetering on my ladder cleaning the awning over my front door, I remembered . . . I used to have this cleaned.

Once a year, in the spring, I'd get a call from Summerday Awning Service asking me if I'd like to make an appointment to have my awning cleaned. I always said "yes." I mean really, who wouldn't want to do business with a company called "Summerday?" I asked her once if that was just the inspired choice for the name of their awning service business or their real name.

"Yes, it's our real name." Genius.

I want to say it was in 2008 when I got a call from Summerday Awning to set up my annual cleaning that everything changed. I paused. No, I thought. I know it's only $100 but . . . it's a luxury now and I can't afford it. I really need to be mindful of every penny.

I said "no." I must have given her an excuse, but the gist was still ~ NO.

I've thought of Summerday Awning many times over the years hoping they were still in business and that they didn't have too many customers like me saying "no" while they are tap dancing as fast as they can in this economy.

When I talk with friends about when I thought the recession started, I always think of the day I said "no" to Summerday Awning Service. That is when it became crystal clear that I needed to change my spending habits. I think of the toll this downturn (read "depression") has had on small companies around here. People who work hard to grow their businesses but just don't have the resources to withstand the economic uncertainties swirling around. From customers rethinking their expenditures to banks tightening their lending guidelines, small companies have suffered greatly.

The day I'll know this economic mess is over? When I can say "yes" to Summerday Awning Service.

So, to all the Summerdays of the world ~ A Cheer! Here's to your courage, vision and fortitude. It's really you and the tens of thousands like you that give me hope for the future of the country.

Such a Lovely Word ~ Spring! Oh, and . . . Cleaning

This was such a lovely weekend in Seattle. Warm. Sunny.

S*P*R*I*N*G

'Course the thing about spring is the increased light and ~ what the hell! Cobwebs everywhere. Dust. Uck. I guess that's why it's call Spring Cleaning.

On Saturday morning, I decided to tackle the cupboard about my stove. Now, the thing about my kitchen is it's small. I like it very much, but, I don't kid myself. It's minuscule.

When I "remodeled" my kitchen several years ago, I clad the rift cut oak with bead board, replaced the doors of the cupboard above my stove with an old window with true divided lights. Luckily, it was exactly the size of the original doors. Popped right in.

Then, I painted the whole shootin' match the perfect "white." I had this romantic idea of having an interesting display cabinet in my kitchen. After I'd loaded up the cupboard, I realized it was missing visual interest. The cupboard holds my every day dinner dishes. While I'm very fond of celadon, there wasn't enough going on. Dullsville. What it needed? Flavour, please!

Which brings me to the beautiful solution. One of the things one buys when traveling in Italy is a calendar from the little kiosk in Piazza del Duomo. Of course, what do you do with that calendar when the year is up? The images are way too pretty to end up in the recycle bin. Mine ended up in my plan file.

While rummaging around for inspiration, I found my old calendar with botanical images of fruits. Perfect. I lined the entire interior of the cabinet with brown shopping bags turned inside out. Pawing through all my craft supplies in my studio shop which I laughingly call "The Well of Despair," I assembled all my half empty jars of matte medium, my brayer, sharp scissors and got to work.


I deckled the edges of the calendar pages and cut individual fruits to overlay the pages. When I was finished, it did everything I wanted it to do. It was visually interesting, beautiful, and utterly romantic. Best of all, my celadon plates coupled with oxblood porcelain made a show-stopping picture.


I covered the spice shelf with entry tickets and pensione bills from the places we visited and stayed during our trip. Now, when I pull out the sage or the marjoram, I'm reminded of that wonderful life-changing trip my sons and I had.

  

 

Friendly, beautiful, romantic and exactly what I had in mind.

The Power of Zen ~ the beautiful flourish

In life, it really is the little things that touch us most. The small kindness. The tender caress.

Last year for my birthday, my oldest son sent me a small bouquet of lilies. Beautiful. So, beautiful, in fact, I wanted to see them more than the usual FTD. I took them to my bathroom and put them on my counter in front of my vintage Venetian mirror.

Now, I have the world's smallest bathroom. One and half steps in and you're standing in front of the sink. Half a step to the right ~ toilet. Half a step further ~ shower. Weensy. But, nice.

I tucked my little tussy-mussy of lilies by the goose neck. Wonderful. Fragrant. Elegant. Luxurious.

His present reminded me how much I was missing that tenderness of spirit. I had forgotten to treat myself in a soul-satisfying way. Since then, twice a month, I put a small bouquet together for my bathroom ~ flowers from the store (in the winter months) coupled with variegated greens boxwood, Daphne, etc. from my yard.

This small $5.00 luxury feels generous and optimistic. It's easy to fall into the austerity mind-set so everything feels like a withholding grind; where every outlook looks grim. Fresh flowers are a friendly way to soften that grind. A small expenditure that feels luscious and hopeful.

Soul satisfying.
 

Oh! Baby Bunnies in the Garden.

It's raining in Seattle this morning.

When I was little, we lived on the Mojave Desert. Nearly every day, I'd go stand on the playground tarmac during recess, tilt my head looking up at the cloudless blue sky and say, "When I grow up, I'm going to live some place it rains every day."

I love Seattle.

I love the way it smells when the air is misty with rain. I love the way it feels when the rain falls in big fat drops. I love the way it sounds on the wooden ceiling of my mid-century house. I love my moss-coated garden art. I love the gentle climate that allows even a garden innocent like me to jette and pirouette around the beds.

Spring is a heady time when the 80# of King Alfred daffodils I planted last fall are optimistically peeking out from their winter slumber. When my husband died in 1996, I really needed to do hopeful things. I found that in planting bulbs. Now, going to the nursery is my hopeful fall ritual. Planting bulbs in the fall shows faith in the future. And, when they come up in spring starting with crocus, I feel profoundly happy. It's a simple thing really ~ but utterly lovely. It gives me a glimpse of what it must feel like to be Vita Sackville-West ~ with a lot less experience, fewer staff and smaller grounds. I live in paradise.

This morning when I took my dog, Ramses, out to potty, he was very interested in something close to the base of a large fir tree. He thrust his nose into the ivy and started to paw around. In all the excitement, he dislodged what looked like a bird's nest. On closer inspection ~ a nest of baby bunnies! They looked to be just hours old. Certainly no more than a couple of days ~ naked, eyes tight shut. They didn't appear to be injured though he messed up the nest a bit in his excitement. I found the three that came out when he lifted their upside down cashmere-lined dome, tucked them back in and dragged Ramses away.

I love knowing I have bunnies in my garden.

Sweet.

Spring must be just around the corner.

The Romance of Naming your Home

After my husband died, I decided to blow this pop stand and take my sons to Italy at Christmas. It was a two week slumber party and the first time I'd heard them laugh in months.

My sons are both 6'5" tall ~ talk about seven league boots! In Florence, they were striding along and pretty soon out-distanced me but I could hear them laughing from the next block. Heaven.

Because I adore architectural salvage, my walking was hampered by the visual wonder of Italy. I stopped often to admire a door knocker or a light fixture or the brace of an eave. Walking along the streets, block after block was the salve my soul needed.

We were in Florence for Christmas when we decided to take a midnight stroll and watched the full moon rise between Giotto's Bell Tower and the Duomo. Breathtaking. In one of the side streets of the Piazza del Duomo, there was a very small shop with a soaringly high ceiling and walls filled with wonderful signs. Enameled letters. Brass plaques. Individual house numbers in bronze and brass and steel. Utter desire!

The next day, we stopped into that mouthwatering store. As we entered, a thousand year old man walked out from the back room with the International Tribune under his arm. I started to ask him a question. He just turned on his heel and walked back into his office. We stood there a little flat footed and finally left.

The next year, my oldest son was studying in Florence. After nine months of Italian lessons and just before my birthday, he returned to the shop and ordered me a sign for my 50th birthday. And, in an understanding of the importance of international peace, he said that the owner reminded him of Grampa ~ a bit of a curmudgeon, he doesn't like speaking English to "tourists" but was very charming when you get to know him.

And, there it is ~ a little grace note on the side of my home. And, a touching present from my son. Heaven!

The Grace Note ~ Using Architectural Salvage

In music, a Grace Note is a small embellishment. It adds dissonance to a harmony. In interiors, a Grace Note adds depth of detail and visual interest. It adds spice.

Vintage feature tile tucked
into a small corner. Spice!

Over the last 20 years, the focus of my business has been Historic Restoration. The key to the success of a project is almost always dependent on the sensitive use of architectural salvage. When you purchase pieces from a salvage yard, you are not only keeping construction materials out of landfills but you are also bringing history to life. Many articles would cost the earth if you were able to purchase them today.

A 250 year old Danish door front,
nickel vintage torches,
a canvas awning
make for an inviting entry.

For the client who appreciates the past, working with architectural salvage is the Grace Note that adds spice!

When even the most expensive interiors feel like you've seen it all before, including vintage architectural elements in the mix lifts it into the realm of extraordinary. That "one of a kind" aspect really appeals to me. While less may be more, interiors that reflect the style, ideas and concerns of the client ultimately turn into space of distinction and character.

Small marble angel found
broken now part of an
extraordinary door bell.

Vintage iron window grate
now the face of a
lovely Juliete balcony

Who doesn't need a very cool exit sign?

My Furniture Feels Like it is Nailed to the Floor

Many times when I've met with clients, they tell me they feel stuck. They feel like their furniture is nailed to the floor. They just can't think of any other arrangement. Last week, I met with my best friend and she said the magic words ~ "Isn't there some other way this room can be arranged? I feel like my furniture is nailed to the floor."

We moved everything out and started with a clean slate. This is the perfect project to do with a friend. When you're done, it feels like you've gotten a lot accomplished.

I like the way this little wall turned out. Usually, one puts the console table behind the sofa. It's sort of the classic location. In the "un-nail" process, every piece of furniture is up for grabs. In this case, I moved the settee and placed the vintage Foo-y Lou-y chairs (I love them when they don't take themselves too seriously) upholstered in the spunky graphite cotton check in front of the console table. Putting the small Asian chest between them gave the chairs a table for a glass or small plate. Angling the chairs slightly seems like a more friendly placement. 

The great thing about this arrangement is the combination of textures: large baskets, Asian and contemporary art and porcelain, German etchings coupled with the shades of graphite, cream and gold leaf. It's interesting, approachable, eclectic and the cheeky check and modern handmade porcelain from Page and Thorbeck keeps it from being uptight.

But, the best is ~ the furniture isn't nailed to the floor! Enjoy.

Oh dear! My new home is completely Dead White wallboard!

A while ago, a client of mine moved up to Redmond to be near her children. She brought with her a life-time of wonderful antiques. To her horror, the new downsized home was all the "builder's special-Dead White" painted wallboard. Quelle horreur!

 And, the fireplace? Scary bad.

Rather than repaint the whole place, we decided to concentrate on the fireplace. She wanted a more Old World feel rather than the "Just Out of college" fireplace supplied by the builder. For tile that I turned to Architerra NW for a beautiful solution. Using a combination of their field tile and wonderful trim pieces, we turned to fireplace from "factory ordinary" into a beautiful focal point for her living room.

Often, when we see a lovely old tile job, what we are really responding to is the exquisite trim pieces ~ the crown molding, the ogee edges, the base, the v-cap, the corner moulding. In handmade tile designed by the tile genius at Architerra NW, you get the depth of detail not found in the big box stores and the type of detail that sets the finished project miles above the ordinary.

 

After the tile was installed over the existing fireplace, the change was dramatic. It was a fireplace that suited her French antiques. It made her new place feel like "home."