MY CUP RUNNETH OVER

     Had the best day of my life on Sunday – worth every one of those thousand-dollar bills forked over to the bank for my condo – when I finally got to experience my beloved San Francisco family enjoying my new home in Vallejo.  There was eight year old Nico, lounging in the swivel chair in front of the fire, doing homework on his iPad, his beautiful mama relaxed, leaning back on the fainting couch in front of the window, watching the sky change colors behind the cranes of Mare Island, my son comfortable on the sofa, engrossed in the New York Review of Books, and me and nearly-three-year-old Mila looking at books at my desk in the library, and drawing pictures on every page in my notepad. 

     We’d had an early dinner, which I spent the morning preparing, hoping they’d love it and enjoy it, and that it would make them happy – which it did.  Mostly, I used what I already had in the house, except the pork, which I ran out specially to buy at Seafood City.  I’ve been looking at this Philippine specialty in that shop for a long time, but never could buy such a big portion just for myself.  Oh yes, this Jewess loves pork.

     I made Quinoa Latkes, pureed purple yams, sautéed Dover sole, and heated up that fabulous, succulent, Seafood City “family size,” deep fried pork shank, which I served with a dribble of coconut vinegar.  Last minute I made a salad of lettuces, plucked from my little garden planter, with avocado and one of those brown high-in-lycopene sweet  hot-house tomatoes that come in a long package with cellophane.

     Dessert was ready made, also from Seafood City: flat cakes of sticky rice steamed in banana leaves, with a coconut caramel sauce, another Philippine specialty, which they devoured so fast I had to fight for a taste.   Drink was coconut water and fresh eau de Vallejo gurgling up through a GE filter under my sink.

     I’m grateful to the Philippine Community in Vallejo who has brought a whole new culture into my life, with new people, tastes and experiences.  I’m eternally thankful for that precious moment with my family, that I’ll never forget, and which will hopefully get the kids to ask to return to grandma’s house in Vallejo.  Halleluja!   I don’t need to wait until Thursday, Thanksgiving is now.

     I walked over to the City Clerk’s office last week and found this sign on the reception desk: You, the customer, are the most important person in the service we provide.  Not an interruption of our work.  You are the purpose of our work.  You, the customer are not an outsider.  You are a fundamental part of our service.  You, the customer, are not dependent on us.  We are dependent on you.  Bring us your needs, and we will do our best to satisfy you.”  Below that, “City of Vallejo, CA,” with a simple graphic of a tree and a sailboat, in front of a big sun, over a green field and blue water. 

Isn’t that the way all business should be run?  Imagine if your telephone company adopted that policy.

     I’d gone to the City Clerk to apply for a position on the Board of Beautification and Design.  I have no special qualifications, but I’m a worldly old broad with a lot of experience, well-traveled, and call myself a poet.  And, I want to be involved with this city that is so accessible to its citizens, and participate in making it a better place.  Let’s see what happens.  If no one else applies, I might have a chance.

     While I was there, I walked over to the library and got myself a library card.  Did you know the Vallejo public library offers homework help?  And tutoring services, as well as a book group?  What a town!

     By popular demand, and by invitation only, I’m teaching “Healthy Cooking for One” in my home, starting in December.  And, for VIB readers, right now, hereby offer cooking instructions for 2 of the dishes I served to my family on Sunday, and one more delicious cold weather dessert. 

   Those who say I see my cup half-empty need to learn how to read.  I suggest the library’s tutoring services.   And, btw, buy my book.

RECIPES

Quinoa Latkes

About 2 – 3 cups of cooked quinoa, 1 med. Brown onion, chopped fine, 1 egg, a big handful of fresh parsley, chopped, salt and pepper.

Put quinoa, onion and parsley in a bowl.  Beat the egg in a cup with a fork and add it to the mixture.  Add salt and pepper, mix well.

Heat a couple of tablespoons of coconut oil in a large frying pan, when hot drop about 2 heaping tablespoons full of the quinoa mixture and flatten out a bit so it looks like an oval pancake.  Put as many of these into the frying pan as will fit without overlapping.  Leave them alone for the first few minutes, then peek underneath to see when the cooked side is golden brown.  Flip with a spatula and fry until golden brown on the other side.

Place on a folded paper towel to drain while you cook the next batch.

When used as a side it needs nothing else.  As a main dish, you could serve it with sour cream and apple sauce.

Purple Yam Puree

Wash and chop 2 big yams into 1 inch pieces, throw into boiling salted water, boil until tender when pierced with a tooth pick.  Drain, return to the pot, add a good heaping tablespoon of butter, a nice splash of cream, a dash of salt and pepper, and mix.  Use an immersion blender to turn it into a creamy, delicious deep purple puree.  If so inclined, grate a little bit of nutmeg over the top.  Serve with any meat, fish, or poultry.

BAKED APPLES   

Wash and core medium sized apples, or cut larger apples in half and core.  Sprinkle with salt, lightly dust with cinnamon, and stuff each one with approximately one teaspoon of crunchy peanut butter, or for a change of pace, try coconut jam, which can be found in Seafood City.  Pour about half an inch of water, or leftover wine and water, in a baking pan, add apples, place in pre-heated 375 degree oven for about 45 minutes, or until they are tender and melting.  Serve hot or cold with cream – or without.

General advice: Use the freshest, best ingredients you can find, organic, if possible.  Enjoy!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

    For personal and civic reasons, I’ve become obsessed with the idea of cleaning and fixing up the blotch of dirt beside the river south of the ferry that is covered in pigeon shit, and used by the wind to fling dust and grime onto the dwellings whose inhabitants already suffer from noise and dirt of the traffic on Mare Island Way.   Repairs to this park got no votes in the recent participatory voting, but it needs to be done, for me, my neighbors, and the city.

     Casinos or not, we need good restaurants in Vallejo.  Now.  Whenever I consider dining out I don’t know where to go.  I think I’m living in the wilderness, where folks eat stuff that comes out of a freezer or a central kitchen thousands of miles away.  Ok, some of our joints may be fancier than others, but as far as I’m concerned it’s all just grub.  I want real cooking, real food.

     I cook and eat three meals a day at home, seven days a week, four weeks a month, and I’m getting a little tired.  Sometimes, I want to eat out, good, simple wholesome, tasty, fresh food – not chain food, canned food, bad food warmed in the microwave.  I challenge the chefs of Vallejo to come up with the good stuff.  You can do it! Let’s go!  

     I refuse to lower my standards and expectations of food as I do for local opera performances. 

I attended the opening of Tosca at the cold, drafty Mira Theatre, together with about 18 other brave souls, and I must say, it was a unique experience, starting with the strange pants the male singers wore, salvaged that morning, no doubt, from the bins of the thrift store down the street, which is probably the reason someone came out and made a plea for money after the first act. 

     Most of the singing wasn’t too bad. The orchestra earned their pay, except for the cellist who didn’t arrive until halfway through the second act.  She slid into her seat, unpacked her instrument, switched on the light of her music stand, raised her bow and entered the music seamlessly.  No one even blinked.  I’m guessing they left out the overture because she wasn’t there.

     The conductor, poor fellow, had to lead the band perched on the armrest between two seats in the first row, which must have been quite painful, to say the least.  He fell off once, and knocked out his light once, but was saved by the first violinist, without missing a beat.  

     In spite of all that, I confess I enjoyed my night at the opera in Vallejo.  Puccini may not have agreed, but Groucho would have loved it. 

VISIONS FOR A CITY

     While gazing at the hulking cranes of Mare Island on Sunday morning, a flock of wild geese flew overhead in perfect V formation.  It was a thrilling sight that made me wonder if they’re heading south for the winter or had they heard the news about the casinos.  

     I heard about casinos, and other projects, proposed to the mayor, his side-kicks, and the general public in a presentation at city hall last week. There were six elite teams of master developers, with plans for the commercial exploitation of a large area on the north side of Mare Island that made Vallejo sound like a gold mine they were ready to dig – and plunder. 

     It was also interesting to hear the representative of the impoverished Koi Nation, who’d gotten the guilt of the US government to grant all kinds of favors they say they’ll bring to Vallejo in return for land.  They’d give us wampum, we’d turn the territory over to them and get a casino, and, if one can believe this, seven million visitors per year.

     Did you hear the Mayor of Detroit talk about how difficult it is to return from bankruptcy?  (It was aired on NPR, the radio station that plays all day long in my kitchen.)  He cited Vallejo as an example of a small city in the process of recovery that would take longer and was even more difficult to achieve than Detroit. He made us sound like a lost cause.
  

     Sometimes, after reading reports about our school board and some of our politicians, and listening to the outspoken cynics, it sounds like everything here is wrong.  But, observing those rich, smart developers ready and eager to put their money and resources on the table, my heart swelled with pride.  I imagined Vallejo coming up aces; our high-school students winning prizes, a crime-free town, my property value going way up.  They like us, I thought; they really like us. 

     But, will our honorable city officials recognize what’s best for Vallejo and play our cards right?

The developers, especially the casino people, were drooling, rubbing their hands together with glee, over the profits they  foresee flowing in from a piece of perfectly situated coastal land in the hub of the Bay area, between San Francisco and Napa. 

     There was talk of world class gaming, entertainment centers, high class hotels, restaurants, shops, and all the business they’d bring to our fair city.   If six teams of brilliant master planners, architects, engineers, techies, and money-men want to own it, and are willing to invest a hundred million, it must be true.

     Then, how come we don’t develop Vallejo ourselves?  What do we need them for?  Why not get those brains and bankbooks working for us?  Isn’t that what Detroit is doing?  Shouldn’t we be the ones calling the shots?

 
     I found this announcement in the news last week, “The City of Vallejo is pleased to report that the Standard and Poor's Credit Rating Service has raised its underlying rating on Vallejo, California Series 1999 certificates of participation (COPs) to 'BB-' from 'CCC+' with a 'Stable' outlook.” 

While dreaming of my prosperous city, with great schools, rising real-estate values, and shops like Whole Foods and Cartier, I couldn’t help imagining of those seven million visitors, and all the traffic that comes with them.  We’ll need a tunnel from the freeway and other entrances into town, stopping at the ferry and continuing on to Mare Island, and a bridge on the south side of the city, maybe two, and peripheral roads to keep traffic out of downtown.  Let’s bring in trolleys.

  

###