We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Another road trip to Santa Cruz, this time to catch my granddaughter's dance performance with her baile folklorico group. This company of about two dozen little girls and a couple of brave boys practice for months under the tutelage of very dedicated Mexican-American instructors who insist on keeping every detail of the dance steps, props and the costumes as authentic as possible. Even the girls' hair and makeup conform to a strict set of rules: tight braids, no curls, colorful ribbons woven into each braid; eye shadow in multiple bright shades, lots of mascara, blush and lipstick.

The instructors handle so many dance groups, ranging in age from the very youngest to older teens, that it has evolved into a major community fiesta called "La Guelaguetza" that celebrates the indigenous communities of the Mexican state of Oaxaca, birthplace to many residents of Santa Cruz. It is so big in fact that lengthy and dramatic proclamations are read by all the local politicians as well as the Mexican Consul General in San Jose, every one greeted with a deafening chorus of "Vive Oaxaca!"

Grilled nopales and butterflied chorizo.

The twin highlights of Guelaguetza are the dance groups in colorful native costumes from all over Oaxaca, and dozens of vendors of tantalizing foods and drinks. I thought I had a passable understanding of Mexican food, but everything here was new to me. Women in traditional dresses grilled nopales and chorizo with onions and chiles. Huge, round blue corn tortillas were toasted crisp then slathered with beans, grilled beef, avocados, sliced cabbage and cheese -- the traditional "tlayuda," a complete meal in itself. I gobbled up a cup of "nieve de nuez," a light ice milk made from finely crushed walnuts, and then tucked into a leche quemada (burnt milk). And there was a huge variety of pan dulce to satisfy any sweet tooth.

Blue corn "tlayudas" hot off the grill.

Pastries are packed into baskets lined with colorful paper.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that my weekend in Santa Cruz also included a piroshki lunch in a Russian deli and a lamb kabob dinner at the local Greek Festival, but those are stories for another time. It's hard to imagine more cultural diversity anywhere in just two short days. The flavors and smells and languages being spoken around me were totally foreign but absolutely fascinating, and reminded me that it's good to leave home every now and then.

The Fish Taco Debate

I had been cooped up for way too long while recovering from surgery (I am now the proud owner of a brand new hip), when I made a last-minute decision to make the long drive up the coast to see my family. It's not an easy trip when you're the only driver covering the 300 miles without any relief, but the scenery is gorgeous in the spring and I've made the drive so many times in the past that I know how to find every NPR radio station between Ojai and Santa Cruz to keep me amused.

It was somewhere around Paso Robles that one of my favorite NPR shows came on the air: The Splendid Table, a series of engaging dialogues between the host and a variety of chefs, food historians, nutritionists, culinary writers as well as listeners who call in with questions and comments. One of the first callers, who sounded like an experienced and knowledgeable cook, inquired about a good recipe for fish tacos, although when she described the way she prepared this favorite Mexican dish, I was convinced that hers was a very authentic recipe and I wondered why she was asking for recommendations.

The host, Lynne Rossetto Kasper, said she likes rubbing orange zest and garlic into the fish before grilling or frying it in a simple batter. Okay, I thought, that sounded interesting, although probably not authentically Mexican. But the key to a perfect fish taco, she insisted, was the crema which should be blended with minced garlic, chopped cilantro and lime juice. I agreed, but raised an eyebrow at how she made "crema": half sour cream, half mayonnaise. But here's where Ms. Kasper  really lost me: she suggested topping the taco with finely sliced iceberg lettuce. "What!" I shouted at my car radio. Even the caller reacted with a gasp. "Oh no," she couldn't help blurting out, "fish tacos are always served with green cabbage, never lettuce."

As soon as I got home, I looked up several recipes for fish tacos to see if I could settle the lettuce vs. cabbage debate. Of course, I couldn't. I decided it was a regional proclivity. Those of us on the West Coast seem to cleave to the way they are made in Mexico (cabbage), while residents in other parts of the country are willing to substitute iceberg or Romaine lettuce. Californians have easy access to authentic Mexican crema and wouldn't dream of using anything but the real thing. Others will just have to made do with sour cream and mayo until their markets expand their ethnic product line.

In the meantime, here's a recipe I selected from the many I found. The rub for the fish imparts a very nice smoky flavor which I particularly like, and the crema is authentic. And yes, so is the shredded cabbage.

Fish Tacos with Cilantro Lime Crema

For the crema:
1/4 Cup thinly sliced green onions
1/4 Cup fresh cilantro, chopped fine
1/2 Cup Mexican crema
1 1/2 Teaspoons fresh lime juice
1/4 Teaspoon salt
1 clove garlic, minced

Combine above ingredients in a small bowl and set aside.

For the tacos:
1 Teaspoon ground cumin
1 Teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 Teaspoon smoke paprika
1/4 Teaspoon ground red pepper
1/8 Teaspoon salt
1/8 Teaspoon garlic powder

1 pound white fish fillets like snapper or Talapia
Corn tortillas
1 Avocado, sliced thin
2 Cups shredded cabbage

Combine the seasonings in a small bowl and sprinkle the mixture evenly over the fish fillets. Spray a sheet of foil with cooking spray and fit into a shallow baking pan. Bake at 425 until fish flakes easily, about 10 minutes. Remove from oven and break up the fish with a fork. Heat the tortillas until warm and pliable. Divide the fish evenly among the tortillas and top with a spoonful of crema. Garnish with shredded cabbage, thinly sliced avocado and cilantro leaves. Other optional toppings: chopped jalapeno, tomatoes or red onions.

Crack open a cold Dos Equis.

Cafe Whatever

I ventured back to Santa Cruz for the long weekend to spend some time with my family. There was much catching up to do: the grandkids had just started a new school year, my son had completed his first month on a new job, and my daughter-in-law, the veteran teacher, was back in the classroom. That, and the cool, foggy coastal climate gave me a welcome break from the scorching temps in Ojai. As always, we poked around town looking for new places to eat.

Like moths to a flame, we gravitated once again to Asana, that hole-in-the-wall eatery where I got hooked on their Lavender Love milkshake earlier this year. But we were dismayed to find that Asana is no more, replaced by a new restaurant named Cafe Gratitude, an organic vegan restaurant specializing in gourmet raw and cooked foods. Skeptical, we sat down and studied menus that were lengthy and somewhat difficult to decipher. Every dish is named after an affirmation, to wit, "I Am Transformed" is two  handmade corn tortillas with cashew cheese. The word "live" is used liberally in the menu, as in live sandwich, live spinach, or live cracker.

I ordered the "I Am Complete" and the server smiled and replied, "You are complete." And around the table it went: "I Am Transformed," "I Am Hearty,""I Am Elated," until it was laughable. Our little guy, a picky eater, whose only hope for an acceptable dinner hung on what was billed as macaroni and cheese, was devastated when the bowl that was set down in front of him contained slivers of raw zucchini topped with a cheese made from ground Brazil nuts. So much for "I Am Comforted." A strike was declared by both kids, so in desperation we ordered them mint chocolate chip milkshakes, only it wasn't ice cream and the chocolate chips were raw cacao, and the mint was actually a green vitamin-mineral concoction.

By the end of the evening, I think each of us was thinking, "I am Frazzled." For a first visit, the gratitude gig is fun, but on subsequent visits it would soon become annoying.

Started in 2004, Cafe Gratitude has grown to a collection of 4 restaurants in the San Francisco area, 1 in Los Angeles (where it is a mecca for the Hollywood set), and another couple tucked into Whole Foods stores in the Bay Area, all using organic produce from their farm in Vacaville, California. But there's more: books, DVDs, food supplements, clothing, classes, and food items, all available online. Limited to California locations now, the restaurant franchise is bound to spread across the country, and Whole Foods could be a catalyst. So watch for it. And get your groove on by repeating this affirmation: I Am Forewarned.

Santa Cruz Tasting Notes, Part Deux

Back in Banana Slug-ville to continue my exploration of what’s to eat. Oh yes, and to visit my grandkids, too.

First stop, the newest member of Santa Cruz’s culinary shops, Nut Kreations. My grandson was anxious to point out all the roasted and raw nuts, nut oils, nut milks, nut butters, and nut coffee blends that this pleasant shop offers. We inspect their nut bar with 120 varieties and flavors and our eyes start to glaze over with all the choices. The solution: Javier custom blends his own granola and off we go.

Across the street is my favorite downtown eatery, Asana, where I once again order their “Lavender Love,” a diet-busting milkshake that I have described before in this blog. This time, someone in the kitchen added an extra spoonful of lavender buds and I was surprised it didn’t look purple in the glass. It’s a good thing I love all things lavender.

 Lavender Love, the world's most exotic milkshake.

My son splurges on their Lemon-Cashew Mousse, made with cashew milk, almond liqueur and whipped cream, topped with a puree of peaches and mango. I think Nut Kreations could prosper by adding a selection of nut-based puddings to their offerings but having just opened in May, they have enough to worry about now.

 Cashew Mousse with Mango-Peach Puree, garnished with Lemon Zest and edible flower petals.

Next stop: lunch at Samba Rock Acai Café, a Brazilian joint that specializes in huge bowls of ice cold acai mixed with granola and topped with fresh fruit. Locals park their bikes inside the restaurant where the samba beat is just a prelude to the energy boost you get from the fresh organic ingredients.

So it turns out that someone has already put together a Santa Cruz food tour, a 3½-hour stroll to five local drinking and dining spots with a lot of local history thrown in. That’s what I’ll do next time I visit.

In the meantime, here’s a recipe for cashew mousse from an old issue of Gourmet magazine:

Cashew Mousse

1 Cup salted roasted cashews (4½ ounces)

½ Cup sugar

1 Cup plus 1 tablespoon cold water

½ Teaspoon unflavored gelatin

1 Teaspoon almond-flavored liqueur

2/3 Cup chilled heavy cream

Blend cashews, sugar, and 1 cup of water in a blender until very smooth, about 2 minutes. Pour mixture into a fine-mesh sieve set over a large glass measuring cup and let drain (gently stir if necessary but do not press on solids) until 1½ cups cashew milk accumulates in cup (discard solids).

Sprinkle gelatin over remaining tablespoon water (cold) in a 1- to 1 ½ -quart saucepan and let stand 1 minute to soften. Heat over low heat until gelatin is melted, then add cashew milk and liqueur and heat, stirring, until mixture is thickened (do not simmer), about 6 minutes. Cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally.

Whisk cream until it just holds stiff peaks, then fold cream into cooled cashew milk mixture gently but thoroughly and divide among serving bowls. Chill, covered, until set, at least 3 hours. Serves 4.

Your vegan/vegetarian friends will think you are so clever.

Blueberries for the Fourth

Let’s be honest: There is nothing hokier than the Fourth of July. And nothing tastier than the food we consume that day. In every town and hamlet in the country, the day proceeds in a certain order: parade, picnic, pyrotechnics.

Like a moth to the flame, I keep showing up at Ojai’s Independence Day Parade even though the players stay pretty much the same from the year to year. The lineup includes plenty of horses, the high school marching band, Chumash Indian dancers in full regalia and the ragtag Keep The Sespe Wild gang, our local advocates for preserving the river than flows through the national forest surrounding the Ojai Valley. I think my friend Joan nailed it years ago when she remarked, “whatever you’re proud of, just put a leash on it and drag it down the street.” It's about as Americana as it gets.

I thought Ojai’s was the smallest small-town parade of all, until I visited Aptos with my son and grandchildren last year. Not to be outdone by its bigger and kookier neighbor to the east -- Santa Cruz -- Aptos boasts “The World’s Shortest Parade,” a two-block romp down the main drag by every youth sports team, four-legged animal, community non-profit volunteer, pickup truck and VW bug for miles around. This year is the 50^th anniversary of the World’s Shortest Parade, which should be something to behold, although I can’t imagine how any more visitors could crowd in along that two-block stretch.

Parades are fun, but nothing describes the Fourth better than the food we eat on that holiday. Fourth of July picnics are iconic: grilled burgers and hot dogs, corn on the cob, and the red-white-and-blue trifecta of watermelon, ice cream and blueberries.

In Maine (the largest producer of wild blueberries in the world), where I lived for three summers, the wild blueberries are just getting ready for picking in early July, and the harvest culminates in a flurry of blueberry festivals in late August. Maine blueberries are the native lowbush variety that grows naturally in fields and barrens throughout the state. The berries are much smaller than the cultivated varieties found in the most supermarkets, but are thought to have more nutritional value and more flavor impact.

Once on a very hot day in late July, I joined a group of Mainers on a hike to a blueberry barren outside of Camden. Armed with blueberry rakes that look like dustpans with tines, we poked and jabbed at the bushes and tried to get enough to take back to Cellardoor Winery where we were going to participate in a cooking class using blueberries. “No wonder blueberries are expensive,” I whined to our instructor. “This is really hard work!”

If you are lucky enough to have a surfeit of blueberries in your kitchen, make a batch of this simple and versatile blueberry sauce. You can use it on pancakes, waffles, French toast, cheesecake, blintzes, ice cream, bread pudding or pound cake.

Blueberry Sauce

3/4 Cup sugar

1 Tablespoon cornstarch

1/8 Teaspoon ground cinnamon

2/3 Cup water

3 Cups blueberries, fresh or frozen (if necessary), washed and picked over

Pinch of salt

1/8 Teaspoon pure vanilla extract (optional)

Zest of 1 lemon

Place the sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon and water in a medium saucepan and stir until smooth. Stir in the berries and place the pan over medium heat. Cook until the liquid thickens and becomes clear. Taste to see if more sugar is needed. Stir in the vanilla and lemon zest. Cool, then cover and refrigerate. Makes 3 cups.

Pudwill Berry Farm in Nipomo brings all kinds of berries to the Ojai Farmers' Market every week. 

They grow 20 acres of berries year-round in hoop houses.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone.