incipient san francisco

i’m in sonoma, saying goodbye to jenni, resting my mind and ignoring the world. just did some shopping and will start cooking soon - ceviche and a peach/plum crumble. got some texts from friends who is celebrating the happy birthday of fourbarrel - after two years in business! congratulations to them! but mostly i’m wearing a bikini, eating licorice and reading. 

tomorrow i will try to make challah. it should be pretty stressless, and i’m feeling kneedy. it should be perfect with some roasted chicken, or maybe even just some butter and cheese. and maybe a leftover bread pudding, as i’ve been consulting a very talented lady who bakes at knead (inside local: mission eatery) about this matter. will keep you updated when my slightly off-centered self is back in my own kitchen. 

everybody knows that “busy people gets things done”. it’s just that being busy for me apparently means getting a cheek zit and terrible mood swings and there are still a lot of things to accomplish. 

after a million hours of work and not enough sleep, i got a corned beef sandwich for saturday night dinner. <3 alex 4 ever <3 i don’t think i’ve ever been so tired that i’m not hungry, but it happened that night. i ate half of the sandwich and drank a beer, spent almost half an hour in the shower to wash off the coffee work i had been doing all day, slept for a few hours and went back to work again sunday morning. time to find some time, i think!

i will be home alone in san francisco the next two weeks (roommate is going on a dream vacation to italy), and i hope i don’t have any plans except walking chicken, relax and let the world watch itself for a while. it’s been a tumultuous week - with all kinds of weather and emotions, all at once. from heat wave to dark and stormy. this weekend, i’ve barely been eating, let alone cooking, but hopefully the coming days will be better, healthier and happier. to do: clean out the head fridge from old leftovers, cook something good and buy new jeans. oh. and a mr mystery is visiting san francisco from pasadena next weekend and he’s “buying me a drink”. pay attention and keep breathing.  

picture by kristy b

the coffee brewing session (outside, in the crazy wind) yesterday went well. people laughed and drank coffee, and no one got hurt. ben came to see me brew, and perhaps it even tasted good?! i might have sounded a little tipsy and untalented, but it was an impassioned performance all in all. who doesn’t want to taste coffee and hear me talk about honey processing ? afterwards, i met my mom for the sentinel sandwiches and congratulatory shopping. we had dinner with jenni, drank wine and talked about our best and worst moments in coffee. glad that day is over, though. 

and happy weekend! i’ll be brewing coffee in the east bay all weekend at the eat real festival from sputnik, and i have to mention - jenni will be doing a run for a fundraiser for the national ovarian cancer coalition. donate money and cheer for her! check her page out here <3  

a lot of things happened in my little world on this drizzly thursday. back to normal for san francisco and weather, while i am thrown head-first into insane amounts of work. i brewed 20 gallons of coffee before 7am, tracked down a disappeared van, answered phone calls and was at the same time gchatting with a friend about boys and work. 

today is my first solo coffee presentation in a while, and since it’s actually back to what i know something about, i’m not even a little bit nervous after all, as i know i have all the items i need collected. to be perfectly superficial, i wish my appearance was better, as i got up at 4:30 this morning, but whatever. i don’t know why i always think about appearance before events, but never during. maybe because i’m just playing a part - the “i” i want to be perceived as? and the “i” i am right now, is full of coffee grounds and has red eyes.

good news are - there is corned beef in the makings in alex’s fridge. if i hadn’t given it to him already, i would have bribed him with all i’ve got to have corned beef sandwiches when i come back saturday night after another insane day of coffee serving at this weekend’s eat real festival in oakland. 

picture from kmonki

i’ve been awake early the last couple of days, watching the sun sneak into my room, where i sleep on the floor and mom sleeps in my bed. office has been sweaty, people has been in late. i’ve taken my mom around a little, but the heat made us stay within blocks from my house all day yesterday. since this will probably never ever happen again in san francisco, i embrace the heat, drink ice coffee with cream and eat popsicles all day long. 

it still blows my mind how happy the kitchen can make me. food and drink daydreaming is my favorite activity and the best distraction to life’s little middle fingers. right now, i’m back on the bread pudding track, but that will have to wait until my mom leaves. and the heat has made me dream about grilled mackerel with cucumber salad and sour cream. i’ve been cooking for my mom, and she seems to like it, although she called me a nerd several times.  

anyways, i wish all my friends would try cooking. so much cheaper than a life coach! whenever i’m confused or moody, mapping out a meal or food plan makes everything okay.

i almost forgot to mention - tomorrow i’m doing a demo, or rather, coffee serving at batter bakery’s birthday party for their kiosk! the batter girls are absolutely fabulous, and i know this stuff, but i’m still kinda nervous. since english is not my first language, since everyone at the office is more used to facing the crowds, since i most days work far away from people…luckily, the event is free, so i only have to make something drinkable, if not incredible. i’m supposed to be funny and engaging, which i am…in the comfort of a bathtub or bar-stool. again - doing it for the career (or lack of). i am the last resort to turn to for these kinds of events (everyone that’s doing real work around here is already booked), and i will be on my own. me, my coffee and my mom on speed dial. 

if you want to come, cheer, meet cool people and super sweet girls, and hopefully not be coffee-poisoned, here’s the link to batter bakery! 

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there are things i can’t comprehend. why my phone dies when someone is calling and i’m trying to push “answer” (censoring my calls?). why some people read two books at once. why “the bachelor” still exists while “my big, fat obnoxious fiance” is over. not to mention - chopped liver, chocolate sorbet and lattes are all lost on me. 

but i do understand some. the truth behind brad and jen. the goodness of having a garden. the smell of summer. making out. and coffee. i am genuinely interested in, and aspire to understand everything about coffee. from seed to cup. a weird combo of nerdy interest and instant gratification has made coffee the center of my universe. most days. so i will write a little about coffee. bare with me (and help me help myself). not writing about coffee ever again would kinda be like saying i need to stop flossing.

since i came to san francisco, i hear talk about fair trade (FT) pretty much every day. behind my back, literally, when wholesale is answering questions about whether or not we have fair trade certified coffees. the only glitch is that no one on the other end of the line seems to listen. no sticker? not fair.

then, i read this blog post by tim wendelboe about transparency - which is mostly old news and stolen points, but still open, honest and well composed. and if there’s something fair trade is attempting, but consistently failing, it is to be transparent. fair trade is something businesses mention quite frequently in their marketing, and consumers seems to be obsessing about it right now. over the years, many, many consumers and wholesale customers have asked me about fair trade. why don’t we sell fair trade certified coffees? for me, one part of the truth is that i don’t believe in stickers or brands, i only believe in good business and that how good a coffee is one way or the other, can only be reflected in the cup. 

obviously, there’s an “atlantic gap” in the importance of fair trade, and that’s why i’m giving it more of my attention and space in the cyber space now. but also in norway, the last year i lived there or so, consumers became more and more aware of and willing to discuss the issue of fair trade certifications. or any certification. in fact, i think i’ve concluded for now: fair trade isn’t good enough. it’s not good enough for the farmers, and it’s not good enough for businesses or consumers. i know i’m stepping on people’s toes here, but so be it. isn’t the only fair thing to pay farmers the right price to do an amazing job with what they farm? i’m in coffee solely for the sake of coffee. doing healthy business is just what it takes. 

so, what is the right price? pricing, while not rocket science, is pretty important and deserves a lot more attention than many people give it, especially in an industry based on a commodity most often known for being extremely fragile for the market’s response for pricing. for those who didn’t hear about this, world trade organization (WTO)’s important doha round was a lot about farm subsidies. as far as i am concerned, FT doesn’t diverse too much from subsidies. paying a tiny bit of money (i don’t know the current premium, but it’s a matter of cents pr lbs) above the market price, doesn’t allow for anything but even more overproduction. current producers are producing more coffee from higher yielding varietals - like the colombiana case in colombia, of lower cup quality - and new producers enters the market on these premises. again, leading to over production and lower prices in the marketplace. and a tiny premium to the producers joining cooperatives who are FT certified. coffee is incredibly labor intensive - from growing, picking, processing, shipping, roasting and selling. so of course we need to pay good money - and most often specialty coffee roasters, at least the ones i’ve been working with, pay twice the market price. a really good incentive to do a really good job. 

in coffee, FT is based on political assumptions about how to organize labour. this certification is only available to coops, not to a single farm. thus, coffees that most specialty coffee roasters are buying from i.e. central america won’t be FT certified. from the producer’s perspective, one can be forced because of financial uncertainty, into putting coffee into a coop blend instead of trying to hit a niche in the market. we, on the other hand, are looking for traceability and sustainable business in both ends, where we establish gentlemen’s agreements with producers about supporting them also in the future if the cup quality is there. 

there is much more to say. and discussions to have. but there! i wrote about coffee! i can still do it, without champagne, sedatives, financial-incentives or sexual blackmail. i know coffee and i like it. 

ps and peace on earth

remind me not to complain about anything for a very long time. having my mom here is wonderful, and with cousin coming over for pizza, wine and endless talks about nothing, the weekend was close to perfect. 

we’ve been walking everywhere, from the food festival in the mission, to the castro, chinatown, and had sunday brunch at mama’s in north beach. the cherry on top was that i’ve been cooking delicious food and making my mom eat leftovers, and i’ve had ice cream every day. it’s finally hot here in san francisco, and i’m wearing shorts. life is delicious. 

One of the funniest memories of travels I’ve had to coffee origins has been trips where I’ve made what I think will be life long bonds to people - people I now consider my closest friends. And one of my favorite ideologies about traveling to origins is the CCC - café, cerveza y ceviche. Last night I made ceviche for a couple of girlfriends because I still have a thing for avocado and fish. It’s so simple, and with some really good “5 o’clock” Tartine bread, it was perfect. And perfect company.

Today my mom came to San Francisco for the first time. So far she’s been mostly sleeping, but I have a chicken in the fridge that will soon be covered in mayonnaise and herbs, and I hope that will bring back some sort of liveliness in her otherwise jet-lagged/culture shocked self. Speaking of travels and people, our new green buying team Steve and Eileen (or Elaine, the unintentional pseudonym my mom has given her) will be back from Brazil and coffee adventures on Monday. They went to Minas but also Bahia, where I tasted some of the most interesting (in a good way) coffees after last year’s harvest. Hope we will see something amazing from that.

Oh. And happy Friday!!  

where do i belong? i am not really sure anymore, because life here is good to me. it will be fun and strange to have my mom here for a week and i’m curious what she will think about the place. my family is great, but we’re so not little miss sunshine…

made salt baked red snapper last night (see picture). it was easy peasy - i went to the newfound love of my life - a fish store on mission street, bought a red snapper and made the guy clean it for me. at home, the herbs from the garden got a go (chives, tarragon and sage) and the fish was covered in salt before put into the oven to bake. only mistake was that it was impossible to put in a thermometer after it had baked for a while, so it had to be finished by intuition, the consumption of rum cocktails and chicken cuddle. the salt turned into a solid rock in the oven. note to self: insert thermometer right away, before covering in salt. the fish was served with beet and potato salad with beans and more chives, but completely forgot about the reason for making fish in the first place - a romanesco that supposedly was casually thrown together while i was out of town. no big deal. but then again, i haven’t tasted it yet. for dessert another try on bread pudding with apricots on top, made of some leftover challah. which worked out much better than our previous attempt with leftover bread, which was good, but just too bready for my taste. success! followed by coffee, food coma and mad men season 3 episodes.  

i’m cooking dinner for a couple of girlfriends tomorrow night, but was thinking about getting something started today. less pressure on me, the inconsistent-epicurean…what can i get started today that tastes better tomorrow? the only thing i can think of is chicken pot pie, or any kind of pot-au-feu. maybe that’s the official summer food of san francisco? 

after too little sleep, not enough coffee and dressed like it’s actually summer, we’re out walking chicken again. like the weekend was just a dream. it’s foggy and misty, and the ice cold wind is hitting our barely awake faces. we walk chicken to the park, and while she knows how to stop by every single cross walk by now, she has no idea how to run around on the grass. so we walk around the dog park, not through it.  

chicken, the dog, was found on the street, all alone. no one knew her name, and she was shy and quiet but always well behaved. pretty much every day, i’m asking myself how it’s possible to love a stupid, little dog like that. we joke about the weird things she’s doing and say “that’s what you get for a walnut sized brain”. she’s alex’s dog. he’s the one giving her strict orders, teaching her to behave. to sit down, lie down, good dog. to stay in her place while we cook food that makes her eyes sad and mouth watery. but at the end of the day, we let her sleep in our beds and can’t get enough of her, even when she’s smelly and snoring, half asleep in our laps. 

walking chicken, stopping for snacks, maybe even sit for a while in the park and relax while she’s putting her drowsy little head in my hand, makes me think life right now is completely absolutely blissful. luckily, the problem with all kinds of paradises is that they would have been unbearable: a pastel-colored nightmare that never ends. life in san francisco is like the weather here - too much reality and many fast changes. there are too few of the carefree moments i go through to ever grow tired of them. each little moment i feel blessed with all the richness in the world must be enjoyed with the awareness that it may soon disappear, replaced by worked up worries, messiness and maybe also rain. is that why it feels so good when it’s good?

tonight i made the first two preparations for my mom’s arrival on friday. at bed, bath & beyond i got a gigantic air mattress for me to sleep on for the next week or so. at the butcher counter i got ground pork and beef, and made meatballs. i softened old bread in beaten eggs, and mixed this and the meat with herbs and spices, garlic and white onion. i boiled in a large can of tomatoes (thanks, emily!) with garlic, onion and anchovies for sauce. with spaghetti, this was the perfect monday night meal. after i cook the sauce a little more i will make my mom pizza with meatballs when she arrives on friday.

my late summer flirt with mr avocado is going well. we had avocado and tomato sandwiches for lunch today. success! it’s almost tomorrow already, better get some sleep. natta! 

 

the boys that kindly hosted me for the weekend in santa cruz are just the right amount of ridiculous, delightful and smart and i had a great time doing nothing for 48 hours straight. for a while, i actually considered giving myself up for adoption to trubaca. but then i figured - some of the best things in life are not only free, they’re good because they’re not constant. 

the weekend brought sunshine, walks, beach, talks and aha moments. but on my way back, i missed san francisco and everyone here, and let’s be honest - i need to work and i need to cook. turns out my expectations to life are huge. too huge for the most part, but for once, life is living up to my expectations and it is delicious. oh, and i have a new californian gentleman caller: señor aguacate. yup, they’re in season and i wake up craving guacamole. i need good recipes and get down to business. 

just got home, middle of the night, to old veggies in the fridge, dirt collected from leaving my window open all weekend and most important - a renewed sense of me. it’s time for bed. see you back in real life tomorrow. 

i arrived in santa cruz late friday night. late because it was dark and past dinnertime, but early enough for a couple of beers and industry espionage gossip. and everything i wished would happen came true - there’s nothing going on here except rad people, expensive tacos and all kinds of floats. so i had tacos for breakfast, root beer float for lunch and so far champagne for afternoon snack while i’m soaking up some much needed vitamin D and working on my laptop. too good to be true. 

i’m reading consider the oyster by mfk fisher and yes, it makes me consider the oyster. as a young adult i wished i liked them, before a friend made me understand them and which ones i liked. ever since, i come back to them a couple of times a year to explore “the strange, cold succulence”, as fisher describes it. maybe i in particular like all things dual - how the oysters have such famous aphrodisiac powers and equally notorious gut-wrenching ones is maybe one of those things i don’t understand but am thrilled to find in life. and it’s fine thinking about things that i have such a strong love-hate relationship with when life is shorts and flip-flops and sun and nice people all around me. it’s ok, you can hate me now, because tomorrow i’m returning to san francisco and will be a mess again by monday morning. 

ps i’m staying at the trubaca mansion, and ian stole this post to his blog here. since he’s only 22 and cool he’s allowed. xo

it’s friday again! going to santa cruz for the weekend to visit friends and hang out (see picture). it’s not even lunchtime, and i’m already having fantasies about surfing, flip flops and wearing shorts and baggy sweats all day long. san francisco is kind to me, but it’s nice to get out every now and then. instead of cleaning my house, i’ll be cleaning my head. i hope i’m inspired to write my heart out, and i hope such heart isn’t beating unbearably for those left in san francisco and the city itself. life is too short for the what-ifs. or cold fog. so, with a big sip of margarita - adios and happy weekend!

i was looking forward to a lonely night yesterday, but that didn’t happen after all. my cousin moved here for the semester, and she’s moving up as one of my favorite people in the world quite rapidly. 23 and awesome at everything from psycho babble to shopping to serious in-depth conversations about cultural differences and boys, boys, boys - we’re getting re-connected and it’s great. last night was dinner, shopping and i for once went to a late show at the great american music hall. great location, not a great show (autolux). i was going to cook, instead my skinny jeans feel snug and my life is a series of bags - from rainbow grocery to under my eyes. 

i have some exciting upcoming work-ish projects that involves writing a bunch of things about people in the industry i truly admire. more about that another time, but it’s actually grown up work and it will make me feel important and useful, with nothing else to show for than longer hours and a few new facebook friends. tonight, i’m not staying in, alex and i are going to a new restaurant, bar agricole, that’s having an opening party. but before that i have a ton of work and i want to go swimming too before i get party ready. i asked alex if i should wear a dress, and he said “of course. a party dress. a nice one”. what a schmuck. 

ps this pool is next to my house, outside in the mission. pretty amazing, huh? just don’t jump in the shallow water. 

life really ebbs and flows here in san francisco. i’m so much in love with this city, with life here and how i feel about myself. california - where no one really works but everyone has a dream. the soft light, leftover hippies, worn converses and beat-up souls. despite numerous pounds gained since i came here, i’m healthier and happier than i could ever imagine. my life as a 30-year old living on my own for the first time is pretty good. tonight, i think i’m staying in, fighting writer’s block and eating licorice. i’m about to go to the farmer’s market now and buy some nutso looking heirloom tomatoes. caprese fiesta all night long! 

let me tell you about my other name. meta is what people i’ve known forever call me. those using that name for me, know how i got that name at sweet, sweet 16, how unstoppable i can throw myself over ice cream and how i always wanted to go somewhere else with someone else. they know i’m a christmas junkie, and that i love making fun of others for their hangups but doesn’t understand how i’ve got hangups myself.

they’ve been around through thick and thin. very thick - when i moved away from home at 19, and very thin - divorced at 29. they know i love boys, even the ones who makes me sleep-deprived and forgets about my birthday, and they know i’ve always loved all things good in life and sometimes embraced things that are not so good only to make other people happy. 

i miss all of you - come visit soon! 

It’s true - there is something like geographical chemistry. I just wrote an email to a couple of friends who will be visiting Oslo from Chicago, and I realized that as much as I love Oslo, there’s just no lust. Which I have for San Francisco, even when it’s foggy, I’m freezing and ex-husband is in town. 

Weekend was good to me - foggy night walks with Chicken dog, cousin in town, a fun party where I made new friends. Saturday afternoon I pickled vegetables, made Gougéres and drank rosé wine. I didn’t get the Gougéres puffy enough, so I will consult the Tartine cookbook for this, as Alice Waters obviously have no idea how to make them. 

Nature tends to amaze me, and right now I’m impressed by Alex’s garden in the making. Gardening has become one of my favorite weekend things to do together - which doesn’t mean I’m gardening, but drinking mint juleps, playing with Chicken and napping. While I’m drifting and dreaming about the future, Alex is on his knees, working with the soil, re-arranging plants and planning out the future of the Geraniums. 

it’s friday and i have a crush on tarragon and boys. but since i know more about butter than boys, i will soon be harvesting some tarragon (previously known as estragon on this blog) and hopefully get down to the science of cooking the perfect béarnaise. or “béarnaise sauce” as they call it here in america. why don’t they say “ketchup sauce”? do they say “hollandaise sauce” to go with their eggs benedict? do they say “champagne wine” and “india pale ale beer”? and when is it going to be summer here in san francisco? 

many questions on a friday afternoon and many more in my head regarding butter and boys. starting with the butter and going from there, i guess. have a fabulous weekend! 

last night we finished the making of - and ate the chicken pot pies and let me tell you - it was a success! although i must admit i turned into more of a kitchen assistant since i declared my inability to cook pies several times the last 72 hours prior to the pie finale. we started discussing dinner over a beer immediately after i got home from work, and ate dinner in front of the tv around 10pm. what did we in particular learn about pies? alex made the bottom of the pies thicker than i would have made them, but they were soft underneath when they were finished. i didn’t mind, but they were just not crisp under. they were really crisp on top, and when i say they i mean it, because we made portion sized pies. smart. alex made a roux to thicken the broth the chicken, carrot, potato, celery and mushroom was swimming in. i think it was to avoid another soup-pie scandal adventure, and i thought that was very clever!

this weekend i’m going to pickle vegetables, and i expect a massive melt down at the farmers market saturday morning around 10am. i have a very particular performance anxiety when it comes to farmers markets, more about that tomorrow. also, i’m going to a double 23rd birthday party on saturday to some girls i really like, although i’ve not been celebrating anyone’s 23rd bday in a while. oh well, this is san francisco. tuesday it was a 34th bday, and saturday some other friends is turning 23. it only proves that i’m diverse. we love that in san francisco. i’m generation x, remember? oh. and i have some general questions as well that i need the answers to: 

what is the best way to freeze breads or any baked goods?

what are your favorite cookbooks?

is canned anything ok?

should i boil the glasses before i pickle vegetables?

ciao norway! it was good to see you again - thank you for the one hundred mosquito bites, the un-tan, food from the sea and for giving me a sense of summer and vacation. to a confusing degree, i’ve missed san francisco. got in yesterday afternoon, and after a couple of hours in line in immigration, i went straight to the office. after a little work, we walked chicken dog and made chicken bird pot pie and bread pudding and all was back to normal. all good things. too blissful to bitch about mice still not gone, hair in the drain and unpaid bills. i missed my bed - even after sleeping in the freshest air, so close to nature i was awoken by weasels in the mornings scratching on the roof somewhere close to my head. 

we didn’t eat the pie yet, but it will contain soup - apparently that’s the way pies turn out when i’m involved. alex had a crash course for me in puff pastry dough making, and i’m thinking about investing in a kitchen aid mixer. alex had already soaked bread over night in milk, and directed me thorough the making of his fantasy bread pudding - i made a custard using the same technique as for ice cream. we didn’t get to taste anything because we went out for indian food with trevor birthday boy. i gave him some smuggled reindeer salami (shhhhh). this weekend i want to pickle. stay tuned! 

ps the little boy on the picture is me. yeah. the other one is my uncle and we got the flounder using an old north norwegian technique - sticking it on a sunny day when it comes up to shallow water to soak up some sun. kind of flounder hunting instead of fishing. 

i’m back down south, time for laundry and packing - but also for an afternoon swim! going up north and spending time doing nothing was wise - i’ve been walking a lot without any sense of time, contemplating ‘time’ as i walk. views i grew up with that i will never get tired of, new ambitions in terms of distances possible to walk, and a newfound and much needed sense of peace and calm. 

when i sometime tomorrow get back to san francisco, i am curious about what it will be like without ryan there. he’s given me some updates on portland already, and i can’t wait to go and visit (when it starts raining money, that is…). in the meantime, i’ve dug up some old recipes of pot-au-feu to make the perfect pot pie when i get back to sf. if all men are in love with their mothers, alex is in love with his mother’s cooking. so i thought i should cook something that reminded alex of home, me of my grandmother (she made the best hen pot-au-feu) and it will cook itself while i walk chicken. yes. i am very much looking forward to getting home as well.