My weekend (in a list)

a girl and her goat

Between Thursday and Sunday the following happened at least once but sometimes more:

Drank beer and ate free popcorn at the Lucky 13 (discovered that they had a back patio and a black and white photo booth)

Bought a waffle maker

Drove to Oakland to retrieve and drop off my cooking club ladies (the Divas)

Received a stuffed goat

Got up between 5am and 530am every morning because we couldn't figure out how to turn off the alarm clock

Watched the sunrise over the hills of Napa

Had coffee by 6am

Had champagne and/or (but mostly and) a bloody mary by 7am

Made caramelized onion and jalapeno waffles

Rode around Napa in a limo with the Divas and previously gifted stuffed goat

Took said goat to every winery we visited

Drank wine at chichi Napa wineries for free because "I'm in the industry"

Spent $250 on two (2) bottles of wine at one of the above wineries

Watched more TV than I've ever seen in my life which included but was not limited to Bring it On Again and three (3) hours of "Yes to the Dress"

Macerated strawberries

Laughed so hard that I peed my pants (in public)

Cried

Watched Bridesmaids

Ate about a zillion pounds of buttered popcorn even though I was completely and painfully stuffed from the above waffles

Ate brie baked with caramelized onion jam

Ate a pasta dinner followed by macerated strawberries with basil

Never stopped drinking

Found a water glass from Tyler Florence's Rotisserie & Wine restaurant in my purse on Saturday morning (one of the Diva's also found a jalapeno from Florence's store in hers--Sorry Tyler)

Went to a scary train and dollhouse store

Drove over the Bay Bridge for the first time

Attempted to park my giant-ass truck for an hour in San Francisco

Purchased Invisible by Paul Auster at City Lights Books

Read the above at Vesuvio's

Walked to the Ferry Building because I really wanted a samosa from the farmers' market there

Found out the market was closed

Bought a coffee at Starbucks even though I wanted a coffee at Blue Bottle or Caffe Trieste more because I needed the free wifi to find a place that sold samosas.

Walked to an Irish bar that sold Indian food

Ate Samosas back in my car while frustrated people waited for me to pull out so that they could take my parking spot

Drove south from San Francisco to Monterey on the 1

On my way out of San Francisco, drove by the Blue Bottle coffee shop on Jessie street and cried a little because there was no parking

Made regular waffles for a hungry small child as soon as I got home

Made a fava bean soup for the hell of it

It's amazing what you can get done in a day if you get up at 5am.

Dining with Divas

We had another meeting of the Dinner Divas. It’s been a few long months since our last one because a) one of our members realized she hated cooking and quit and b) another one had a baby. But now we are back in business and cooking like we mean it.

We take turns meeting at our houses for each meeting. This month's meeting took place way up the 15 in one of those eucalyptus-filled suburbs that are oh-so desirable and self-contained.

I am unabashedly geo-centric. I love California. I don't want to live anywhere else in the United States (outside the U.S. is another matter). Specifically, I love San Diego. I find other cities in California to be both beautiful and amazing, but I always want to come back to San Diego.

My geo-centricities become very apparent when I leave California. I know that other places in the U.S. have value. There are rich and amazing things to be discovered everywhere. But somehow what I know never matches up with how I feel or how I respond. When I moved to Florida a few years ago, I kept being amazed that this whole other state--this whole other coast--had the same things I was familiar with in California. One embarrassing moment that lasted about three months was my constant referring to the Gulf of Mexico as the Persian Gulf. Another time (and more recently, I am embarrassed to admit), I told a friend I was visiting in New York how it was "back home in America." Again, I knew the right names for things, but they just didn't feel right. I felt out of place. Out of my state both geographical and being.

In San Diego, my geo-centricities have taken a finer focus. I have issues going too far north and east out of the city of San Diego proper. My boundaries for living here are quite specific: I don't like to go north of the 8, east of the 805, south of the 94, and (of course) west of the ocean (note that Coronado is "west" of the ocean boundary, so I don't like to go there). I joke that I can't breathe beyond these boundaries, but in reality, it's only a half-joke. I love San Diego. I love the neighborhoods that make up this beautiful (albeit screwy city). And the area within I choose to conduct most of my living consists of the best and most diverse neighborhoods--the ones most true to the socio-economic and cultural diversity that makes up any large city. The places outside of my chosen boundaries do have some merit and cultural diversity, but many of these neighborhoods are just rows of cookie-cutter houses, strip malls, large chain grocery stores, Starbucks--in short, southern California suburbia at its worst and most homogeneous.

Of course, I do leave these boundaries when I have to; in fact, I go far far east of the 805 everyday to work in my lab. However, I've found loopholes/exceptions to my boundaries that work for daily functioning. Here are my rules:
1. I can leave my San Diego with impunity if I use public transportation (or if I am carpooling with someone else). This rule is how I make it out to SDSU Monday through Friday to work in my lab.
2. I can leave my San Diego if a neighborhood starts within my boundaries but ends outside of them. But I have to be walking.
3. I can leave my San Diego if I am going a) north of Del Mar, b) south of the border, or c) east of the Colorado River.
4. When I am going north, the 5 becomes my eastern border until I get to Sacramento. Then the Rockies become my eastern border. But once I get into Washington State, the 5 becomes my eastern border again.

I'm sure there are more rules. Quite frankly, I make them up as I go.

I've found that when I leave my San Diego outside of these rules, alcohol makes the air just a little bit easier to breathe. So for this Divas event, I made a booze dessert that ostensibly goes by the name of Strawberry Tiramasu. This desert also had the merits of using up all of the CSA strawberries I've been accruing.

1 1/4 cups strawberry preserves
1/3 cup plus 4 tablespoons Cointreau or other orange liqueur
1/3 cup orange juice
1 pound mascarpone* cheese, room temperature
1 1/3 cups chilled whipping cream
1/3 cup sugar1 teaspoon vanilla extract
52 (about) crisp ladyfingers (boudoirs or Savoiardi)
1 1/2 pounds strawberries, divided

Whisk preserves, 1/3 cup Cointreau, and orange juice in 2-cup measuring cup.

Place mascarpone cheese and 2 tablespoons Cointreau in large bowl; fold just to blend.

Using electric mixer, beat cream, sugar, vanilla, and remaining 2 tablespoons Cointreau in another large bowl to soft peaks. Stir 1/4 of whipped cream mixture into mascarpone mixture to lighten. Fold in remaining whipped cream.

Hull and slice half of strawberries.

Spread 1/2 cup preserve mixture over bottom of 3-quart oblong serving dish or a 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Arrange enough ladyfingers over strawberry mixture to cover bottom of dish. Spoon 3/4 cup preserve mixture over ladyfingers, then spread 2 1/2 cups mascarpone mixture over. Arrange 2 cups sliced strawberries over mascarpone mixture. Repeat layering with remaining lady fingers, preserve mixture, and mascarpone mixture. Cover with plastic and chill at least 8 hours or overnight.Slice remaining strawberries. Arrange over tiramasù and serve.

*Italian cream cheese available at supermarkets and at Italian markets.
Bon Appétit, April 2006

I added a lot more alcohol than called for (about double) and did more preserves than the recipe said. The desert was a hit. And the alcohol induced sense of well-being allowed me to appreciate the lovely home and neighborhood of a fellow Diva.