Cows, Blue Tits and Little Miss Muffet

 Ingredients for making Farmers' Cheese: whole milk, white vinegar, kosher salt and chives, photographed in the glare of the early morning light

Photo: Chronica Domus

As we drove through the countryside headed for the town of Petaluma recently, one could not fail but to notice how green the surrounding hills had become.  This brought me much happiness as just a few months earlier the alarming sight of a palette of mahogany and chestnut tones dominated the landscape.  Obviously, the drought had markedly taken its toll. A few necessary and welcomed rain showers have now transformed the landscape into a picturesque vision of spring, making the herds of dairy cows that graze along the hillsides very content.  I feel most fortunate indeed to live in an area where farmers care for the well-being of their bovine beauties by allowing them to roam freely and graze on pastures green.  Not only is this responsible husbandry of benefit to the animals, it is also healthy for us as consumers.  I appreciate knowing the provenance of my milk when retrieving it from my refrigerator.

Part of my childhood was spent in Kent, known also as The Garden of England, where the gently undulating hills were more suited to grazing sheep than to cows.  Back then, our milk was delivered daily by a milkman before dawn, in pint-sized glass bottles with either red or silver foil tops.  It was my job to set out the empty bottles at night and retrieve the fresh delivery each morning from the doorstep.  I recall my annoyance most mornings at finding the clever little Blue Tits had already beaten me to the milk.  They were skillful masters at pecking their way through the foil tops of our full-fat non-homogenized milk (as that is what we drank back then), and craftily getting at the prized creamy layer that settled on top.

All of these thoughts on where our milk originates, and seeing the cows ambling on the lush hillsides of Petaluma, reminded me that we had not made any cheese for quite some time, something that had to be remedied posthaste.  So, early last Saturday morning, we set about the task of making a small batch of a mild and crumbly cheese known as Farmers' Cheese. We have made other cheeses in the past, some requiring several months until maturity, and much fussing and babying as they matured within their cloth bindings or wax coatings.  In contrast, this cheese can be eaten as early as the day it is made, although it tastes even better the following day.  I want to assure you that making deliciously fresh, home-made Farmers' Cheese is not as daunting as one would imagine, especially when considering the ingredients required to do so are readily found at the most basic of food markets; whole milk, white vinegar, salt and, optionally, some fresh herbs. Neither complex additions of enzymes and cultures are required, nor any special equipment besides a large pot, a kitchen colander and a square of muslin or cheesecloth.

To begin, a gallon of organic whole milk (never ultra pasteurized) is poured into a stainless steel pot and gently heated over a medium flame.  One must insure that the milk is continuously stirred so it does not scorch and stick to the bottom of the pot.

 Milk being transferred to the pot from our ceramic jug

Photo: Chronica Domus

 The milk is almost at a rolling boil

Photo: Chronica Domus

Just as soon as the milk reaches boiling point, immediately switch off the heat and stir in three quarters of a cup of white vinegar. There will be an immediate reaction to the vinegar and one will witness the magic of milk separating into its constituent curds and whey, a sight Miss Muffet would welcome.

 In goes the white vinegar

Photo: Chronica Domus

Miss Muffet would be proud

Photo: Chronica Domus

While the curds are being allowed to cool undisturbed for about twenty minutes, prepare a colander in a sink by lining it in a layer of muslin, or two layers of loose weave cheesecloth. By now, you should feel like a satisfied dairy farmer in your very own home kitcheen.  It is a gratifying feeling to discover that a gallon of milk, a little vinegar and some heat can produce approximately a full pound of cheese.

The next step in the process is to pour the curds into the colander to drain off the liquid, known as whey.

 Draining the curds of their whey

Photo: Chronica Domus

You will be left with a beautiful heap of fluffy white curds resembling something akin to the consistency of cottage cheese.

 The drained curds

Photo: Chronica Domus

To aid in further draining, remove the muslin from the colander, with the curds intact, and hang from a wooden spoon over your pot, as demonstrated in the photograph below.  Do resist the temptation to rush the process by squeezing the curds.

 The curds now hanging in their cheesecloth sack

Photo: Chronica Domus

Allow the muslin sack to drain for twenty minutes before removing it and placing the curds in a clean ceramic bowl.  Slowly add desired amount of salt.  We like to use kosher salt to flavor our cheese, but regular table salt will also suffice.  How much salt is added is dependent on your personal taste so do sample the cheese as you go along.

  Drained curds ready for salting

Photo: Chronica Domus

We enjoy all manner of cheeses in our household, from the very pinnacle of pungency, the great "king of cheeses" Stilton, to the delicate mildness of Fromage Blanc.  However, Farmers' Cheese is a mild and agreeable cheese indeed.  Once salted and allowed to firm up in a mold, it can be eaten as is, on grilled bread, or accompanied by seasonal berries as a delicious breakfast treat.  If like us you enjoy a little more flavor to your cheese, add some freshly chopped herbs to the curds and infuse them with a little more character. On this occasion, we added a bunch of fresh chopped chives, but other combinations of herbs work too. We have in the past experimented with parsley, thyme, and even caramelized roasted garlic.

 Chopped chives awaiting the curds

Photo: Chronica Domus

 Chives thoroughly distributed throughout the curds

Photo: Chronica Domus

Once you've added your herbs, brush a layer of olive oil to the inside surface of three small bowls (we used cereal-sized bowls for this task).  The oil will aid in the removal of the cheese once it has set and is ready to be served.  Fill the bowls with as much of the curd mixture as can fit, and then tamp it down to flatten the surface.  Line the cheese with a layer of plastic wrap, and set the bowls within your refrigerator allowing the curds to become firm and cold.

The cheese is tamped down into bowls

Photo: Chronica Domus

When you are ready to devour your culinary efforts, gently run a sharp knife around the cheese to loosen it from the bowl, and invert it onto a serving platter.  A trickle of good quality extra virgin olive oil, and a crack or two of the pepper mill will assure you of a satisfying hors d'oeuvre accompanied by a glass of wine and some grilled bread or crackers. I guarantee not a morsel will remain for dear Miss Muffet.

Won't you help yourself to a bite or three?

Photo: Chronica Domus

What a pleasurable experience it is to serve fresh cheese, made directly at one's kitchen stove, with milk that was locally produced by cows that have actually been allowed the freedom to graze on grass.  It gives one a taste of the ideal bucolic existence right in the heart of town. 

Have you tried your hand at cheese making or anything else that connects you to your nearby agricultural community?  Perhaps I've inspired you to make Farmers' Cheese?

A Whitewashed Garden

Wisteria tumbling over nasturtium leaves

Photo: Chronica Domus

There has been a frenzy of growing activity in the garden over the past few weeks which coincides with the warming temperature, the lengthening day and increased birdsong.  It is as though the landscape is suddenly awash in white.  Wherever I look, both high and low, there is a symphony of white unfurling in every corner of my garden.

 The wisteria beginning to flower, photographed February 25, 2014

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of the things I eagerly anticipate each March is the old wisteria as it faithfully awakens from its dormant winter slumber.  It is typically at its peak around March 15 and rarely a year goes by that it is not.  This year offered no exception, even as premature signs of spring had arrived as inconceivably early as January.  In that first February after buying our home, I was enthralled to have discovered the meandering bine covering the wooden structure, now serving as my potting area, was not in fact the expected, though beautiful, purple variety most commonly seen in our area.  It was instead a snowy white cultivar that provides a profusion of graceful hanging blooms to bedazzle the corner of my garden . What a lovely surprise indeed!  I was unaware that white existed in the world of wisteria.  Obviously, I had a lot to learn as a budding but curious gardener.

The wisteria in all its glory, photographed March 7, 2014

Photo: Chronica Domus

The Prunus salicina Santa Rosa is in full bloom and holds promise for a bumper crop of juicy plums later in the summer months.  I love to watch as the white petals are carried off by gentle breezes and drift to earth as though delicate snowflakes.  It is really rather magical.

 Future plums, if the bees assist

Photo: Chronica Domus

The cherry tree too is in bloom, as seen in the photographs that follow, set against brilliant blue skies.

 

Blossoms among the silvery bark of our cherry tree

Photo: Chronica Domus

Fingers crossed for a bumper cherry crop if these blossoms are any indication

Photo: Chronica Domus

The apple trees are just beginning to reveal their show of delicate fragrant blossoms. Some are touched by a tender blush pink color in their infancy.

Apple blossoms, blush colored prior to fully opening

Photo: Chronica Domus

The fragrance of these apple blossoms is divine

Photo: Chronica Domus

The narcissi are almost done blooming, but not quite.  Thalia, the purest of the white narcissi, have begun to unfurl beneath a small magnolia tree.  The graceful and demure drooping heads bob in the wind and resemble a flock of white doves in flight.  I have other white narcissi in my garden but these 1916 heirlooms hold no peer in terms of their beauty and grace, don't you agree?

Narcissi Thalia, among my favorite narcissi varieties

Photo: Chronica Domus

Oh, and look what I found peeking shyly from beneath the boxwood  This duo is Muscari botryoides Album, the white variety of the common grape hyacinth.  They reliably rear their milky heads just as the blue variety has concluded its performance, at least here in my garden.

Two Muscari botryoides Album

Photo: Chronica Domus

During the evening, the scent of the scrambling and rambunctious star jasmine along the fence begins to saturate the air, especially on warmer nights.  I often catch myself, as I walk towards my home at the conclusion of my evening dog walk, sniffing the perfumed air and marveling at how the strong odor has wafted well beyond what one might assume to be the reach of such sweet and traveling fragrance.  If truth be told, it is almost cloying to the nostrils.

Star Jasmine; pretty with a cloying scent

Photo: Chronica Domus

Gardening is such a humbling experience, especially when little accidents of nature occur, such as when one ends up with a predominantly white landscape, quite unplanned but entirely appreciated.  I estimate that my whitewashed garden will remain this way for at least another month prior to the profusion of color that will follow.  No matter what we plant, of course, nature always has a way of telling us what works best.  Did you notice the plenitude of blue forget-me-nots hovering behind the Thalia narcissi within the photograph of same?  For now, it remains the sole plant contributing color among the snowy shades of white, and one that lays claim to its domain by self-seeding.  Perhaps next year, I should do as Prince Charles has done at one of his gardens at Highgrove, his country residence.  He cleverly conceived an extraordinary black and white garden with examples of the palette in bloom throughout the entire year.  His spring landscaping includes black tulips and grasses.  I can already envision them transforming my white spring garden next year. 

Is your garden an exercise in meticulous planning, or is it much like my own, an on-going haphazard experiment with hopes that something will grow and establish itself in a pleasing combination?

Lunch At Tadich Grill

The exterior of one of the nation's oldest restaurants, Tadich Grill

Photo: Chronica Domus

It immediately occurred to me, when dropping off my daughter at her school friend's birthday party last Saturday, that my husband and I would be childless for the afternoon. Not likely to pass up such serendipitous circumstances, we headed off for an eleventh-hour lunch date at one of the nation's oldest eating establishments, Tadich Grill.

The hefty doors of California's oldest restaurant 

Photo: Chronica Domus

What makes this San Francisco jewel so special is that in an age when perfectly good old-fashioned, white tablecloth-type restaurants around town are closing for "updating" and "renovation" (the latest of victims, alas, is another storied favorite spot of ours, The Big 4), Tadich Grill has remained unchanged for decades.  And, what is wrong with that I ask you? Their classic formula of professional and efficient (but never stuffy) service, excellent locally sourced and prepared food, and plenty of quality bar drinks, will outlast any newfangled marketing gimmick that can be conjured up to appeal to the latest group of hipsters and the like.

Located in San Francisco's financial district, the best time to visit for an impromptu lunch is always on a Saturday when the surrounding area is an oasis of calm, at least if you compare it to the throngs that descend upon the area during the work week.  The restaurant does not accept reservations so no matter who you are, or who you know, you and I will be standing in the same queue until a table, booth or place at the bar becomes available.  On occasion, you may even spot a familiar face or two from the worlds of politics, screen or stage.

Although the restaurant was hopping when we arrived, we were immediately welcomed by the friendly staff and asked if we'd prefer to sit at the bar, which spans the length of the restaurant, or if we'd like to be seated at a table.  We opted for the table and were escorted to our seats.

Two refreshing gee and tees were promptly ordered while we perused the menu, and oh boy were they effective!  There are no feeble drinks served within these wall, so be prepared for a boozy experience.

The bar staff know how to pour 'em!

Photo: Chronica Domus

We knew the place was old, but did not realize until glancing at the front of the menu, that this year Tadich Grill celebrates its 165th birthday.  Yes, that's right, an astonishing 165 years in business.  Technically, that would make the place older than the state of California, which is quite an achievement.  At conception in 1849, the restaurant operated as a coffee stand and also provided its patrons with locally caught grilled fish.  Sailors, from the nearby ships docked along the waterfront, made up the majority of the clientele.  Today, the full-service restaurant is known primarily for its seafood dishes along with some steak and chop plates. 

Happy 165th birthday!

Photo: Chronica Domus

The dining room is a recreation of the original Art Deco interior from the Clay Street site, which was purchased by Wells Fargo for redevelopment back in the 1960s.  The space is divided in two by the original long mahogany bar.  The woodwork comprising the booths and the low partition wall behind the bar has been faithfully copied from the Clay Street locale.  The feeling of stepping back in time to an earlier era is greatly felt upon entering the hefty front doors.  Even the wait-staff possess a vintage look with their starched white jackets and aprons, black trousers and ties.  I hear most of the staff have been there for eons.

A view of the wooden booths and tables awaiting hungry patrons

Photo: Chronica Domus

We were having such a jolly time chatting and laughing over our drinks, that we almost forgot to order lunch . We settled on two of the mesquite broiled fish platters, a side of farm fresh asparagus, and two further gee and tees, of course.  Local sourdough bread, a traditional San Francisco favorite, is always placed at the table and one cannot help but succumb to a nibble or three while waiting for the main event to arrive.

Onto our second gee and tee served Tadich style

Photo: Chronica Domus

Asparagus: old-school style, naturally

Photo: Chronica Domus

Tasty doorstep-sized fried potatoes, their external crispy coating concealing an inner sublime fluffiness, perfectly prepared seasonal vegetables, and a creamy dollop of tarter sauce unlike any tartar sauce I'd tried before, accompanied our broiled fish.  Interestingly, it is claimed that Tadich Grill introduced the technique of cooking with mesquite to the United States in 1925.

Mesquite grilled fish of the day - deelish!

Photo: Chronica Domus

As if there was room left for too much else, we did the unthinkable and topped off our generous meal with a sinful bourbon soaked bread pudding.  It was superb and as decadent as it sounds.  Two or three cups of coffee later, and once the lunch crowd had dissipated, it was time for us to take leave of our nostalgic cocoon and get back to the realities of our world.  We had, indeed, enjoyed the most marvelous and leisurely of lunches, spent happily in each other's bubbly company.

Irresistible to those with little will power

Photo: Chronica Domus

Much later that afternoon, upon collecting our daughter from the party in the park she had been attending, and thinking back to what a delightful lunch my husband and I had enjoyed, I was reminded of what it means to truly make the most of every opportunity that presents itself.  There I stood, thanking the hostess for her hospitality towards my daughter, when I caught myself distracted by her chest.  Across it, on her t-shirt were printed the words "carpe diem".  She told me that was her favorite saying.  I told her I had just lived it.

Next time you find yourself hungry in San Francisco, do seize the moment and stop by Tadich Grill for lunch or dinner.  Not only will you be rewarded with a delicious meal, you will also experience a slice of life from a bygone era rarely to be found in present day dining establishments.

Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.

Hyacinth Update: In The Pink

Pretty and fragrant apricot pink hyacinths

Photo: Chronica Domus

It has been a little over a month since I posted on my white hyacinth arrangement, here.  At the time of writing that particular post, I had one remaining bag of bulbs to be forced in water.  Most years, if the stars align and I plan accordingly, I can stagger my forcings so that I am able to enjoy fresh blooms for at least the first few months of the year.  I am pleased as punch to report that all of my calculations have paid off.

Here we are in early March and my final hyacinths are ready to burst and saturate the air with their delicious scent.  Don't you think they look heavenly?

Hyacinth arrangement photographed on our American Federal work table

Photo: Chronica Domus

I was thrilled at how pretty the apricot pink shades of the flowers looked against the vibrant spring green shades of the foliage.  Ahem, but please excuse my carelessness.  I cannot tell you which particular hyacinth bulbs these are.  When I purchased them last year, I had scribbled a note to myself on the brown paper bag containing the bulbs, noting their name and color.  It appears that I tossed the note along with the bag when I used the bulbs. Oh well, I hope you agree they do look lovely, no matter what their name is.

A treasured 19th century English black basalt slop bowl housed my arrangement.  I made sure to line the interior of the bowl's surface with plastic wrap in hopes of preventing any scratches from the pebbles and water that provided an anchor for the bulbs.  As I did not want the pebbles visible, I covered them in moss.  I adore the way it all turned out and I'm quite captivated with the outdoor woodsy effect the moss provides.  It is all very reminiscent, albeit on a miniature scale, of the woodland I played in as a child living in Kent.  The bulbs that grew rampantly on that woodland floor were bluebells, Hyacinthoides non-scripta.  There were absolutely masses of them.  And, what a vision they offered!  If you can imagine a blue woodland carpet for as far as the eye can see, then you will understand why I shall never forget such a pretty sight.  My sisters and I used to fill every vase in our home with our pickings for weeks on end each spring.

Pretty flowering quince blossoms

Photo: Chronica Domus

In addition to my rather naturalistic hyacinth arrangement, now sitting in our dining room, I added some flowering quince branches, enhancing the spring-like woodsy mood of the room.  The delicate blush color of the blossoms complemented those of the hyacinths and looked quite marvelous against the deep color of our walls.

Flowering quince branches in a 19th century English apothecary jar

Photo: Chronica Domus

The room is now dressed in its spring finery and ready to receive our guests for a leisurely Sunday lunch.

Do tell me, what is blooming in your area of the world that can be brought inside to brighten the last days of winter?

Tea with Adam Buck

Tea bowls and saucers in the style of Adam Buck

Photo: Chronica Domus

It seems to me that most people nowadays lead terribly hurried lives, myself included.  With a busy work schedule, social engagements, child rearing, dog walking, housekeeping, gardening, and then squeezing in everything else one need accomplish to lead a somewhat orderly and enjoyable life, little time remains for much else.  How do we all cope?  One dares only speak for oneself on this score, of course.  So, on those afternoons which find me at home, briefly without obligation, and in need of a restorative brew, I put the kettle on.  I  force myself to sit down for a few indulgent moments and partake of tea with Adam Buck.

Self portrait of the artist and his family, Adam Buck 1813

Source: Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Adam Buck was a celebrated Irish artist who made his name in London as a miniature painter, portraitist and illustrator during the English Regency period.  His works were heavily influenced by the Greek Revival movement of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, often depicting maternal scenes in classical poses and other vignettes of domesticated life.  Adam Buck's work, or at least work emulating his style, began to appear on various ceramics during this period.

Mother and child draped across a klismos chair

Photo: Chronica Domus

I do not own any of Buck's popular illustrations of the day, showing fashionable interiors and fashionable people. I do, however, feel quite fortunate to possess a set of six pearlware tea bowls, sans handles, and corresponding deep saucers, embellished with copper and pink lustre bands.  The delightful images that appear on the bowls and saucers were made using a process known as bat printing, a method of decoration that fell out of style around 1820, due to the complexities of applying it to the surface of ceramics correctly.  The glaze on these pieces has a slight blueish tint to it, a characteristic of early pearlware, achieved by the addition of a small amount of cobalt added to the glaze.

At play on an elegant Regency day bed

Photo: Chronica Domus

The teaware is decorated with charming images of mothers and their playful children draped over classical Greek furniture, such as a klismos chair with its elegantly curved legs, and a chaise longue or day bed.  Tempting cherries dangling before an excited child, plucked from a wicker hand basket, and a rattling tambourine, convey the jovial atmosphere of Regency mothers at play.  Their clothing is typical of the era, particularly the high-waisted muslin dresses with little puffy sleeves, accentuating their womanly figures.  Notice the women's hair is styled high on their heads, some with the aid of a bandeau, again reflecting styles typical of ancient Greece.

The epitome of Regency motherhood

Photo: Chronica Domus

I do so enjoy taking the time to sit down for a few gratifying moments while immersing myself in the pleasures of tea drinking.  More so, I think, when I can drink from tea bowls that I very much imagine were privy to some scintillating conversations of the day, by genteel ladies and gentlemen, sitting in well appointed drawing rooms.  I wonder what Adam Buck would have discussed were he to be sipping tea from these bowls?

Much like the rest of us, I do make use of more conventional cups and saucers for drinking hot beverages (all with handles attached to the cups), but these particular pieces remain my favorite.

Do you have an especially cherished cup from which you like to sip tea or coffee, and if so, do you force yourself to take an afternoon break to catch your breath?