And, now let us turn our attention once again to the topic of hamburgers.
This weekend we were at our favorite diner in the area, the Putah Creek Café in Winters. It had been a while since we visited, but when we showed up it was just like walking around in old shoes – comfortable, relaxing and oh-so-welcoming. There was a grizzled old cowboy at the coffee bar enjoying a mug of suds, Davis cyclists on their way through to Berryessa, and a whole other host of after-church sinners and saints.
We took our place at a perfect booth in front of a sunny window, and I instantly decided on the Portobello mushroom burger with goat cheese and herbs. He – and you know who I mean – ordered the burger. When our orders came, he was shocked that my Portobello burger was just that. “No meat?” he inquired with the wistfulness of someone who had been betrayed by one they only thought they knew. My response: “No farm boy. No meat. Just mushroom.”
A taste test ensued. It quickly became clear that it was the farm girl – and not the farm boy – who had ordered wrong that day. Again.
Beef Bacon?
Never heard of it, you say? Well, neither had I until my husband brought it home after a trip to the Swingle Meat Company in Jackson. My dad, who is an old-time Missouri farmer, was in town for a few days and the allure of Swingle’s farm fresh beef was just too much. They stopped in and found beef bacon in the butcher’s freezer. Dad recalled his dad – who was also an old-time Missouri farmer – talking about beef bacon, and my dad just had to try it. I’m glad he did, because it tastes just like pork bacon, was a little less expensive, and was wider and more thickly cut – ideal for some premo BLTs, which I consider a major food group in the summertime. So, next time you are looking for bacon, be sure to ask: “Where’s the beef?”
He is His Mother’s Son
These were not your run-of-the-mill beets. These were glorious things, procured fresh from the farmer’s market and turned into the sweet and tangy beings that beets are meant to be. But, on my three-year old’s dinner plate they were cause for freaking out.
Rewind some twenty-odd years. I was utterly devastated that Aunt Tress would ruin perfectly good scrambled eggs with the egregious addition of green peppers. Or, that my mom – my own flesh and blood – loved me so little she would put onions into <insert name of any old dish here.>
Saddled with these memories, I scooped the beet off his plate and ate it myself thinking the kid really did have it all wrong. But, then there was the trouble of the beet juice. It was now on his pork chop. And, rather than see his little world crash, I wiped the beet juice from his plate. Whew. Peace was restored at the dinner table mere seconds before his father flipped his ever-loving lid.
I wondered at that moment, if he would remember this episode in his young life. I wonder if he knows that everyday I catch glimpses of myself in him. I wonder if he would ever learn to love beets. I smiled as I already knew the most likely answer…to this day, I still won’t eat an onion.
Coffee Talk
Last Saturday we found ourselves whiling away the afternoon at a coffee shop on the square in Sonoma. Between corralling our big boy and comforting the little one, my husband and I reminisced about our first introductions to coffee. For me, the love of the drink started when my great-grandma, Nanny, offered it to me when I was five. Now, before you gasp, you need to know that my ‘kindergarten coffee’ was a lot of milk and about a drip of coffee.
On the other hand, Nanny’s was just like herself – strong and no nonsense. She drank it steaming hot in a cream-colored chipped-up cup. The only school she knew was the old school; she was 74 when I was born and lived to be a remarkable 101.
As I was finishing my story, Tim looked at me and said, “Yeah, she would have slapped you for spending $4.00 on a cup of coffee,” in reference to the ‘jo in our hands. I laughed because I knew he was right. That’s when it crossed my mind that we could all do a lot worse than to live a good long life and be fondly remembered over a fine cup of coffee.
Weekend Round-Up
Here’s two coffee-cups up to Steady Eddy’s coffee house in Winters. We dropped in this weekend for a light lunch and got more than we bargained for – good food, friendly service and a pleasant atmosphere that fostered a gentle hum of conversation among locals and cyclists passing through on their way from Davis to Lake Berryessa.
The paninis, with clever names like Holy Cow and Sgt. Pepper’s Blue Cheese, were yummy, and we also recommend the pecan bar. Big enough for a three-way split between me, my husband and son, my husband’s comment was that it was “better than pecan pie.” And, he is right – lots of nuts and not too syrupy. We’ll be sure to make our way back to the “instantly comfortable” setting of Steady Eddy’s again soon!
***********************************************************************************************
Dessert on Lake Shasta
Houseboating is the ultimate vacation. I had the pleasure of spending three lazy days with my family and dear friends who invited us aboard their houseboat on Lake Shasta this past weekend. We spent hours sitting on the deck telling stories, playing Rummikub, and plunging into the lake. It was heaven. But as a foodie, true heaven is measured by the food that is served in paradise. That said, I owe props to my mother, the best pie maker I know (besides Kira O’Donnell). She brought aboard two scrumptious pies – strawberry rhubarb and raspberry. Thanks mom!
*************************************************************************************************
New “Midtown Taqueria” in East Sac
Housed in the old Sidewalk Pizza building, Midtown Taqueria on 37th and J has only been open for a few weeks, but already is a thriving outdoor eatery. After doing vigorous yard work, we decided to ride our bikes over and check it out. Even though I am very adventurous in dining, I pretty much always order the same thing with Mexican — bean and cheese burrito or carnitas — so those are my standards when judging a new place. The bean and cheese burrito was just the way I like it — not too much cheese and the beans not too saucy. My other set of criteria for judging a new place is the quality and variety of its salsas and Midtown delivered.
They had four full, fresh bowls with a salsa fresca, a mild tomato and onion, a medium poblano avocado, and a medium-spicy orange-ish salsa (not sure of the chiles used). We shared an order of nachos with carnitas, also yummy, but too much sour cream for my taste. My husband got a dang chicken quesadilla that was perfectly fine. The staff was very friendly and the interior and outdoor eating areas very clean. They carry Corona, Pacifico, Modelo (especial and dark) as well as Coors. We’ll definitely be back to try some of the yummy-sounding mariscos — nice to see they have seafood beyond shrimp, which is the case at most taquerias. Next time I’ll trade my bean and cheese burrito for either the bass filet or grilled tilapia.