Wednesday, May 12, 2010

wherever i go, my couch will follow

I'm pretty sure I should call in sick today. You know, to myself. I do have a sore throat. And for days, no matter how much I sleep I'm still tired. Or I think I'm tired. It's possible I'm confusing tiredness and laziness.

Should we buy a house? I walked by this one yesterday while out with C. Arthur Miller. The yard was full of what I think a realtor would call "mature plantings."

I read that yesterday's hard frost may have seriously damaged not only this summer's strawberry and blueberry crops, but next fall's apples, as well. This changes everything, obviously.

The yachtsman won't live in a red state, which rules out the South. He also won't live on the West Coast because he doesn't want to be "three hours behind." This rules out Portland, Oregon, where I've never been, but an online personality-test-type thing I took awhile ago determined I should live there.

The lure of the couch is very strong right now. The couch, a pot of tea, last night's episode of Lost.

On Saturday we went to the first farmers market of the summer. It was freezing cold and raining, and the next day it snowed. There were basically three things for sale: greens, asparagus, and radishes. Also, baked goods and pottery.

Looking at these charts of vegetables and fruits that are in season and being sold at the beautiful farmers market at the Ferry building in San Francisco is not a good idea. And it's not fair, either. It's like comparing apples to oranges. Or, in this case, radishes to cherries.

If we lived in California I'd be eating cherries right now. Actually, if we lived in California I'd still be in bed. Fer shur. However, if we lived in California, Arnold Schwarzenegger would be my governor, which is unacceptable. And if we lived in San Francisco, specifically, I would be forced by law to compost.

So for now, radishes.

As you may recall, last spring I was obsessed with a little shizzle I like to call radish toast, so when I saw this recipe for Seared Radish Crostini, I had to give it a try. Crostini is just a fancy word for toast, after all. And this is basically a fancier, fattier, deliciouser version of last year's radish toast.

The key is the bagna cauda. Did I impress you with that term? In my mind I call it crack sauce: melted butter, olive oil, lots of garlic, anchovies, parsley. So. Good. Spread the bagna cauda on crostini and top with seared radishes, and you have a little shizzle I like to call fancy radish toast with crack sauce.

Fancy Radish Toast With Crack Sauce
from the New York Times

1 bunch radishes
9 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
4 tablespoons butter
8 anchovy fillets, finely chopped [If you don't like anchovies you could leave them out, but how about trying it first with just one or two?]
4 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
Pinch red pepper flakes
8 thin slices crusty bread, toasted
4 teaspoons chopped parsley

1. Remove leaves and stems from radishes; trim the tails. Cut larger radishes lengthwise into sixths and smaller radishes lengthwise into quarters.

2. Place a large skillet over medium-high heat until very hot. Add 1 tablespoon oil, radishes in a single layer (do not crowd), and salt and pepper. Cook radishes, without moving them, until they are lightly colored on undersides, about 3 minutes. Shake pan and continue cooking until tender, about 3 more minutes.

3. In a small skillet over medium heat, melt butter. Stir in anchovies, garlic, red pepper, and remaining oil. [I wasn’t paying attention and also stirred in the parsley, which I think I’ll do next time, too.] Reduce heat and simmer about 4 minutes.

4. Brush each slice of toast with sauce and top with several radish wedges. Spoon additional sauce on top, sprinkle with parsley and serve. [I made one up for the photo, but my stepmom had the idea to serve these “deconstructed”—the three separate parts (toasted bread, bagna cauda, radishes) on a platter so everyone could make their own.]


  1. Will the Y-man live in a purple state? I'm still lobbying for Arkansas (until I leave in three months, then it's Tennessee). Fuck composting, you can still burn your trash here.

  2. Um, a mid-day GFD post? Is the apocalypse upon us?

    I compost, maybe I should move to San Francisco. Hmmmm.... This might be an idea to propose to the cranky old man.

    And the radish toast. I liked the idea of it but that sauce was too fishy for me. I feel like I might try making this without the anchovies. Either that or I am going to go downstairs and just start eating my tomato plants that are still growing under their sad little grow lights in the basement because there is NO SUN IN VERMONT UNTIL JULY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  3. I wouldn't trash those red states without trying one. Some of the finest people I know come from red states. And JQuiz, what's this about Tennessee?! We all need to get to Arkansas pdq or miss my last good chance at high-end road kill.

  4. Mojie, why the alias for your GFD alias? Does everyone at GFD have two handles now? Does William? Does Muzzer still read this blog, but under a different name? Come in, Muzzer.

    EBiddie, visit me in Nashville! Bring your ark.

  5. i saw you on tuesday walking c. arthur miller while i was out making cupcake deliveries...i would have pulled over to chat, but you were on your phone...and yes, i think you should buy a house, cause then you could have a house warming party, and i could come :)

  6. We may join you one day, J Quizz, to burn our trash and shoot at squirrels with our BB guns and not be so dang cold all the time.

    You should have stopped, MLC! Although maybe it's best you didn't: There's a very good chance I would have carjacked you and made off with the cupcakes. Instead I bought some at City Market today (my first time trying chocolate chip cookie: yum).

  7. Quizzle - alias? What alias?

  8. Mojie, don't try to play tricks on me! God is watching you.

  9. Quizzle - if this is the only thing God is watching me for then I am in much better shape then I thought!