Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Whew.

I think maybe when you have a creative job, sometimes all that creativity inspires and energizes, and sometimes it just sucks the life right out of you. Right now I'm in one of those latter places, and without anything fun or exciting to say I've just been mum. Focusing on sugar seashells and gumpaste Adirondack chairs.

There was a neighborhood barbeque last week, and we picked all the favas in the garden and steamed them, serving them in a big pile the way we found them a few years ago at a tiny outdoor dinner in the hills above the Cinque Terre. We were hiking on a steep, unmarked trail that opened into a clearing, which turned out to be hosting a communist party fundraiser.

There was a brown paper sign tacked to a tree, with prices for the limited menu items - water, white wine, bread, fava beans, and a delicious soup with pasta in it. We ordered everything, of course, and sat at one of the picnic tables with the local group and just soaked it all up, literally. The favas were brought to the table in a steaming heap, wrapped in more brown paper and sprinkled with salt, and we ate them straight from the pods. Oh, to be hiking those trails again...

But we're not. Instead, we're here, and I'm feeling overwhelmed with decision making. I've never designed a kitchen before - what if I make a mistake? Every time I turn around I think of something else I've forgotten - where will the pot lids live? How about my freakishly large tube of aluminum foil? Counters - salvaged marble or brand new (but recycled!) Squak? Plaster or beadboard? Colors or neutral? Aiee - how does anyone do it?? We did find these super-cool windows, rescued from an old Craftsman home in Berkeley, to use for our kitchen cabinets,

so that's a start. The wrinkly glass and style are perfect - they're a little chewed up, but nothing a bit of sanding and wood filler can't fix. And they're heavy for standard cabinets but we have a very talented cabinet maker and he'll make them work.

We found them at Urban Ore, which is a treasure - a couple of acres of old doors, clawfoot tubs, pedestal sinks, windows, house trim, mantles - beautiful, fun, recycled everything.

I don't have time for a lot of hunting trips, though - this season is my busiest ever. One of last weekend's cakes was especially fun - because of the heat and the buttercream finish, I was asked to deliver during the reception, to avoid potential melting problems. It had been over 100 degrees on the site the week before - this is Coastal California, people - this is NOT NORMAL (an aside to whoever is in charge of this sort of thing - please make it stop. Thank you.). The upside was, I arrived just in time to see the first dance. I didn't recognize the song, but the lyrics were so pretty and the way the couple was looking at each other totally brought tears to my eyes. And for the father-daughter dance, the bride surprised her dad with a song on the piano that she had composed - a classical arrangement of a lullaby that he sang to her as a child - how's that for melting? The cake was very simple and natural, fitting for the outdoor setting, and got rave reviews despite its brief appearance...

Vanilla buttercream with dark chocolate scrollwork, accented with tiny cognac-colored berries and sage green leaves. The bridesmaids all wore cognac-colored dresses - everything was so woodsy and peaceful, and it ended up not being too hot after all, which was good for the guests as well as the cake.