Fish in the City, On the Shore

So a Kansan, a Transylvanian, a Belgium, a Portuguese, an Oklahoman and a Russian meet in a North end Oyster Bar. Much wine, much conversation, a few high fives, much-much laughter and a waitress who kicked us out—very politely of course after all that muchness. Four of them continue the conversation at an Italian cafe over limoncello and grappa. . .

I certainly know that my mother loves oysters on the half shell. I have some vague memory of tasting one myself, but I can't nail down when or where that might have been. Friday night I ate oysters. Unless someone can remind me of another occasion, I will mark my 31st birthday as an oyster first.

Frankly, the little opaque quivering masses have always slightly frightened me. But as the restaurant was a surprise as well as our guests who had valiantly held our table in the tiny, packed place, I was caught up in the moment. The waitress came by and asked for our oyster order. Yes, I admit, as the Kansan, I was not aware that one could choose from an extensive variety of oysters. I explained that this was my first time and the waitress kindly suggested a flight of four varieties recommended for the beginner.

The first one I swallowed (on the advice of the Russian) after holding it on my tongue--briny, slimy and altogether reminiscent of olives. The second one I chewed (per the advice of the Portuguese) and I have to admit the sweetness came through when my teeth sliced through the the soft flesh. A good beginning.

My birthday wish for seafood was well satisfied this weekend: oysters, followed by red snapper and the next day, up on the shore, mussels (home cooked Belgium style) and lobsters! We had theater tickets for a show at 8 p.m. on Saturday, but once out on coast and in awe of the sunset, we decided that food and friends trump theater tickets. So we offered the tickets to friends back in the city and got to be there to witness our dinner crawl first.

A fine seafood weekend. Not to mention a memorable 31st!

Read more about our little restaurant...the Neptune.

Temper Chocolate Class

About one month ago, I read a blurb in the Boston Globe about a Chocolate Class offered by a small independent chocolatier, Temper Chocolates. I called and reserved a spot for L. and me that day. Then I carefully entered the date, Oct. 27th, and time in L's palm pilot to make sure that we both made it there!

The class was held in the Commonwealth hotel in Kenmore Square, just upstairs from the tiny kiosk store. About 25 or 30 "students" enrolled and the room was packed. Each place setting in the u-shaped configuration had a small plate with about 9 squares of chocolate. Ice-cold water in pitchers and goblets were at the ready so that we could cleanse our palates between nibbles.

Caroline Rey, the young owner and chocolatier, led us through the evening.

We had a packet of information next our plates that detailed the major trends in the chocolate world: country/region of origin, percentage of cocoa content and cocoa varieties. Just as the grapes grown in the hills of Tuscany produce a distinct vintage, so too does the cocoa plant grown in a specific valley in Venezuela affect the taste of the final chocolate product. Or so the theory goes.

The finest chocolate in the world grows in a Chuao, Venezuela. We got to taste it. We had started with a Hershey's bar and moved up to the refined Chuao chocolate. And, sure enough, I could tell the difference. And I did think the Chuao was amazing. But I am no chocolate snob. There is a time and a place for a Snickers.

One of the most useful, and poetic, things we learned that night had to do with cocoa content. It turns out that the best chocolate bars should have five ingredients: chocolate (cocoa), sugar, soy Lecithin (an emulsifier), cocoa butter (which is the naturally occurring oil found in the bean) and vanilla. Milk chocolate, of course, should have milk as the sixth ingredient.

Many chocolate makers take out the cocoa butter and sell it the cosmetics industry for a huge profit and then use synthetic fats in the chocolate instead. For example, a Godiva bar we looked at used "butter oil" which is soy bean oil treated to taste like butter. Yuck.

Another useful fact: While Godiva did in fact start out as a small Belgium chocolatier, it has been owned and operated since the 1970's by Campbell's. Yes, the soup people. Do not be seduced by the brand name.

Ms. Rey sells chocolates by Amedi, who manufacture in Tuscany. Although all cocoa is grown in South America and Africa, it is all manufactured in Europe and around the world. A student did ask about Fair Trade, which is an obvious concern, but Ms. Rey deftly replied that she believes Fair Trade is mostly a marketing device. In other words, they claim to monitor the plantations, but in reality this is nearly impossible. So don't buy it to ease your conscience, because it is most likely just a ploy to get your chocolate dollars. Hhmmm. I am not sure about that, but I see her point.

As the class ended, a student next to us identified herself as a Boston Globe Food Writer and asked us questions about our experience at the class. She was a lovely woman and we enjoyed telling her about our passion for sweets, even if he prefers milk and I prefer dark. I'll keep my eye out for the article!

Basic Plain/Dark Chocolate Tasting Technique:

To taste the base and primary flavor notes, wait a few seconds after you place a piece of chocolate in your mouth.

To release the secondary flavors, expand the chocolate's surface area by chewing five to t ten times.

Let the chocolate melt slowly by pushing it gently against the roof of your mouth. Note the flavor, the texture and the way the chocolate lingers on the tongue.

Cookie Dough Ice Cream, Children's Motrin and Stuff on my Reading Shelf

After much debate about whether not it was worth the drive, we did hit the road and make our way up to Stowe, Vermont for the weekend. L. had to give a talk at a conference held there and Dani and I were happy to accompany him.

The weather was perfect and the Fall colors were just beginning to show. Our resort had more stuff than we could have needed: a spa with “Hungarian” mineral bath; a workout facility better than my club here in Boston; pools and a cafe, not to mention two upscale eateries. Dani and I did take advantage of the chess board in the lobby. He beat me. He is ten.

The only damper on events was Dani’s Trojan Horse virus. He looked so sweet and innocent, but carried a hacking cough that erupted at three o’clock in the am our first night there. So far we have not succumbed to his bug, but time will tell. Poor kid sounded worse than he felt, but still we took things easy and didn’t rent bicycles or canoes as we had planned. We did manage to squeeze in a tour at Ben & Jerry’s factory and sample two flavors fresh off the line. We ate amazing pizza at Pie in the Sky and the BEST calzone I have ever had. I could describe it in scrumptious detail, but I am not that cruel.

On Saturday I took Dani to have his first ever fondue—it was a hit. We took two turns zooming down the Alpine slide. We visited the Trapp (as in owned by the family that inspired the movie) resort in search of Austrian cakes. Sadly we arrived at 2pm and the bakery had closed an hour earlier. We took less than an hour and much teamwork to extricate ourselves from the amaizing corn maze. We drank fresh mulled apple cider with our freshly fried apple-cake doughnuts at the Cold Hollow Cider mill. I also put a pin into Hutchinson, Kansas on the map as the first from that town to visit. We stayed up too late to watch Notre Dame beat Purdue on ESPN, which was actually a factor that put us on the road. Our resort had cable, we don’t.

Sunday morning: Dutch pancakes. They were twelve inches around. Only I managed to entirely polish off mine, which was slathered in lemon-compound butter and sprinkled with powdered sugar. The rich dark coffee, two mugs worth, made it all go down smoothly AND kept me awake despite the sheer quantity of blood redirected from my brain to my stomach for digestion. Despite our bellies, we happily stumbled down the recreation path to visit an outdoor sculpture garden near the river (which had these delightful, spontaneous sculptures on the rocky beach) and a farmer's market on our way pack to our resort before we hit the road back to Boston.

Today: back to the gym, I swear.

Reading Record

I recently read these in the search for novels to use with or assign for young adult readers:
Nectar in a Sieveby Kamala Markandaya
Whale Talkby Chris Crutcher
Spider's Voiceby Gloria Skurzynski

The following I read to satisfy my craving for short fiction:
"The Stone Boy" by Gina Berriault (A short story that I would love to teach!)
"The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson (a classic short story; you can find this story in her her collection of short fiction in The Lottery)
"The Teacher of Literature" a short story by Chekhov

I am reading from this collection for my fiction writing class: O Henry Prize Stories 2005 (a collection of short stories)

What I am reading now and you should expect to hear more about this: The Shame of the Nationby Kozol

Also reading: The Adventures of Augie Marchby Saul Bellow

And I need to find a copy to start reading for October book club: Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstressby Dai Sijie