Life is Like a Bundt Cake Pan

Life is like a Bundt cake pan. You can either focus on the big hole in the middle or appreciate the light, fluffy cake it holds.

That’s a bit of unexpected insight I recently found during a meditation I had this week. I was hoping for some insight on how I can ease up on being so hard on myself and this is what came to me. A dessert recipe. For life.

I have to admit, I laughed out loud when the vision of a Bundt pan filled with Angel Food cake came to mind. Divine inspiration, keenly directed towards its audience. I love food so much, it’s easy for the metaphor to hit the bullseye.

It’s up to me if I’m going to stay in the dark void or savor the sweetness of this beautiful life.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the little mistakes, the missteps, the fumbles, and awkward moments that can collect through the day. If I’m not careful, I can waste so much time on the negative, rather than focus on the positives of every day. Rather than see how I opened the door for a mother struggling with the stroller, I focus on how I hesitated too long before I put money in the barista’s tip jar. I can avoid a nice swim in the happiness of my work, to wallow in the problems. I’ll scrutinize every wrinkle on my face instead of marveling on the progress I’ve make with my health. Rather than feeling good about the time I dedicate to my well being and creativity, I’ll beat myself up for not filling the hours with hard, physical labor.

My inner critic sounds a lot like Joan Crawford in Mommy Dearest. And to be honest, I’m kinda sick of the bitch.

I’ve found that the best way for me to stay in the lightest parts of life, is for me to be in action. I need to be of service to others through my work, or to myself through prayer, mediation, fellowship, and exercise. I need to cook. I need to make people laugh. I need to take pretty pictures. I have to take my ideas of faith and put them into action.

Every day I have a choice of where I want to be. There will be negative spaces in life. But rather on focusing on the void, I will choose to enjoy the fluffy, sweet center of it all.

Just as it is in life, this cake didn’t necessarily turn out the way I thought it would. The organic flour and brown sugar gives this cake a unique texture that is a fair bit more dense than a traditional Angel Food cake. The addition of the fruit compote and whipped cream makes this cake super enjoyable.

[print_link]
Brown Sugar Angel Food Cake
Adapted from a recipe fromMartha Stewart Cookbook: Collected Recipes for Every Day

For the cake:
1 1/4 cups sifted cake flour (not self-rising)–if you use organic flour the cake will be dense
1 1/2 cups light brown sugar, sifted
14 egg whites (save the yolks to make ice cream!)
1 1/2 teaspoons cream of tartar
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest

For a simple mixed berry compote:
1 package of trader Joe’s frozen mixed berries
8 tablespoons water
8 tablespoons vanilla Torani syrup

For the whipped cream:
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
quartered strawberries

Preheat your oven to 350 F. Mix the sifted cake flour with 3/4 cup of brown sugar. Sift the mixture twice. (If you are wondering how to sift flour you can go to www.kitchendaily.com/2010/09/07/how-to-sift-flour/ to watch a video on how this is done! I struggled with this and found a fair amount of sugar clumped in the sifter afterwards.)

Beat the egg whites in a large bowl with an electric mixer at medium speed until the liquid becomes foamy. Sift the cream of tartar into the mixture and increase the speed of the mixer to hight. Beat until the egg whites are thick and tripled in volume, about 4-6 minutes. Lightly sprinkle half of the remaining brown sugar into the egg whites. Mix until the sugar is fully incorporated. Repeat this step with the sugar. Continue beating until the egg whites become thick and glossy.

Fold the cake flour and sugar mixture in three additions. As you add the final bit of sugar and cake flour, also add the lemon zest.

Spoon the cake mixture into an unbuttered 10-inch angel food bundt pan (Martha suggests you use one with a removable bottom). Run a knife through the batter to break any air bubbles. Bake for 30-40 minutes, or until the cake is golden in color and is springy to the touch.

Invert the cake on a cooling rack and let cool completely for an hour. To remove the cake from the pan, run a knife around the sides and in the center tube.

Meanwhile, empty the bag of Trader Joe’s Organic Mixed berries into a sauce pan. Add the water and vanilla syrup. Cook over a high heat to melt the frozen berries. When it starts to boil, turn down the heat and let reduce until it comes to a desired consistency. I like to cook things down for about 8-10 minutes. Let cool.

When you’re ready to serve up the cake, whip the cream with vanilla until stiff.

Cut the cake in half horizontally and spread a layer of the whipped cream over the top of the bottom half. Arrange the quartered strawberries over the whipped cream. Add the top layer of the cake and then top generously with the remaining whipped cream.

Serve with a generous spoonful of berry mixture over the top of each serving.

May 18December 31

Salted Radish

I return to my apartment kitchen.

Overseeing a brand new 20-seat breakfast/lunch/dinner restaurant in Santa Monica has been an all consuming task these past six months. Weeks stacked up against each other without a day off between. Days began long before the sun started on its path to work and ended long after it was done. My vision for service and my desire to create a seamless restaurant has been a great challenge. The work has gone beyond basic work. It has become a job of sacrifice.

It’s ironic to work in the food industry and be unable to eat. I’ve ignored the longing for warm meals and decadent repasts with friends and filled my basic needs with family meal scraps, slices of bread grabbed on the fly, or a late night bowl of yogurt topped with granola. There just hasn’t been enough time for such things, I’ve told myself up until today.

But now, I’m in my kitchen. White linen sunlight spills through the windows and onto the tiled counter tops.

I pull ingredients from the refrigerator. There isn’t much to be found on the metal shelving–some eggs, a bunch of radishes, a block of cheese, a stick of Plugra butter–but for the first time in a long time, I have time to cook. I have a handful of potential for a simple meal. I couldn’t be happier.

I submerge a cluster of red and white baby radishes and their rough greenery in a bowl filled with cool water. I imagine my hands and the rest of me floating in spring water, like the deep spring that fills my family’s granite-ridged quarry in Gloucester, Massachusetts. It’s good to be in immersed in water, I think, even if it is to wash radishes. The last grains of sandy brown earth that clings to the candy stripe radishes falls away.

It’s quiet in my little kitchen. Inside my head, though, there’s all sorts of noise. I hear the biting chatter of self-doubt and the still, strong voice of inner faith. The inner critic and the perpetual cheerleader join in too, as they all battle it out in my head. You see, a little over a week ago, I received some news. Though it came as a shock at first, it was the news I had been praying for.

Thanks to divine provenance, I was given the gift of freedom. I have the opportunity to go back to my vocation as a restaurant consultant and service coach.

Return to my vocation

Two radish dry on a paper towel. I’m hungry and can’t bear to wait another moment for something to eat. Why wouldn’t I satisfy my hunger now? Why wait?

I slice the very tip of the remaining radish off and dip the red bulb into a shallow bowl of Maldon sea salt. I don’t know if it’s the crunch of the tiny pyramids of sea salt or the burst of white pepper spice from the radish, but I can’t help but gasp a little. The flavors and textures overtake me. Each magnificent bite is a tiny inspiration.

Awestruck, I think that I might be able to fill reams of paper trying to describe the flavors. I take another bite, hoping to confirm the magnificent spiciness. How something so simple could be so incredibly beautiful? I measure that last bite to the present, making sure that the value of the flavors hasn’t depreciated.

What makes this savory experience so remarkable, I realize, isn’t just the two simple ingredients of freshly picked radish and hand-harvested sea salt. It is the final, key ingredient of spacious time that allows me to experience and appreciate the astonishing flavors.

Time is what I’ve been so hungry for.

Eating radishes dipped in salt reminds me to keep it simple. Don’t push so hard or make things too complicated. Why wouldn’t I want to savor every bitter, sweet, and spicy moment?

[print_link]
Salted Radishes and Radish Salad

One bunch of Radishes (with greens on)
Maldon Sea Salt
Extra virgin olive oil 1-2 tablespoons (just enough to lightly coat the leaves)
Half a lemon
Salt and Pepper

Thoroughly wash the greens and roots of the radishes. Once clean and dry, remove the leaves. Discard any leaves that do not look fresh or green.

Eat one radish lightly dipped in Maldon sea salt. Have another. Enjoy the flavors!

Slice the remaining radishes into thin circles, about the thickness of card stock. Add to the greens in a small bowl. Sprinkle with small pinch of salt and pepper. Add a light drizzle of oil, just enough to lightly coat the leaves. Squeeze the half a lemon onto the leaves. Hand toss. Taste for seasoning and balance. Serve.

April 13May 25

Service 101: Vocation vs Career

I went and saw the documentary film “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” this week. If you haven’t been to the movies lately, I recommend you skip the big flicks and go check this one out. Grab a cup of coffee, make a reservation for sushi after the film, and slip into an hour and a half meditation on the passion and tireless commitment it takes to dedicate yourself to a life in the food business.

The filmmakers dive into the simple–yet vibrant–world of one of the world’s oldest and most respected sushi chefs in the world. If you haven’t heard of Jiro Ono, it’s probably because his perfect-star Michelin restaurant is tucked into an in an elbow of a corridor the Ginza train station. The space is the size of a walk-in refrigerator. A seat at Jiro’s will take you at least one month to get a reservation and will cost you about 300,000 yen.

Jiro will make you every piece of sushi. He will watch you eat every bite. The 85 year-old chef will not smile. He will measure you up. You will think he is judging you as he presses every glittering morsel of fish with his fluid hands.

Jiro is, without question, a man obsessed. Rather than retire, the chef works seven days a week. He holds himself to incredibly high standards and when he meets those impossibly high standards, he elevates them again. He is always striving to become better. As the documentary’s title suggests, the man eats, lives for, and dreams of sushi.

Jiro’s introduction to the audience comes with a deadpan monologue to the camera about his vocation:

“You have to love your job. You must work hard. You must work long days. You must not complain. You should be grateful for the work. You must enjoy dedicating yourself to doing what you do every day.”

Chef Jiro is a craftsman with simple ingredients. Every item is hand-picked and hand-crafted by true artisans of the food world. Jiro Ono may not be famous, but he is one of the most respected sushi chefs in the world by people who know good food.

Jiro dreams of sushi still — A still from "Jiro Dreams of Sushi"

Vocation, Not Career

Watching Jiro Dreams of Sushi reminds me about the importance of putting my time and energy into my vocation, not my career. Whenever I wake up with my mind spinning with to-do lists, restaurant priorities, and frustrations with situations beyond my control, I know I’m obsessing over my career. When my sleep is interrupted by an overwhelming feeling of excitement and anticipation for what the day may bring, I know I am working towards my vocation.

A career is something you do in hopes of achieving something. A vocation is a path you painstakingly carve for the love of creating beauty in the world.

Dedicating my life to my vocation isn’t always easy. There are plenty of reasons that come up every day that make me want to wrestle back my ego, start a spread chart on all the hours I work, and create slideshows dedicated to all the things that aren’t fair in the world.

A vocation requires surrender. In order to pursue a vocation, I must give up on the notion of success, prestige, and recognition. I have to submit to the idea that my work should be simple and beautiful. As the Quakers say, “Tis a gift to be simple tis a gift to be free.” In short, there’s a lot less pain and anxiety in a vocation. The challenge is wrestling one’s ego and pinning it to the mat.

So today, I remind myself to push back the drooping ivy of impossible deadlines and negative thoughts that block out all the light. Today, I dedicate myself to creating beauty in everything I do. Starting now.

April 7April 7

Grateful

I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Today I say thank you for being alive, for the love of my husband, the support of my friends, the sun in the sky, the challenges in life that give me a chance to grow, the glorious stuff I pile up on spoons and forks, and every breath I take. Lastly, I say thank you the Big and Great inspiration that fills me with the hope to be a better person and create something beautiful in everything I do. Being nominated for Best Piece of Culinary Writing is the sweetest frosting on my birthday cake and something I am incredibly thankful for.

March 17May 25

Service 101: Controlling Service

diners dining — No one can control how a diner responds to customer service

News flash: I’m not the boss of the world.

I know you know that. Most of the time I know that, too. The problem is, sometimes a tiny little piece of me really wants to believe I can control the way things go.

When a guest comes into our restaurant, I want them to love what we do and feel taken care of. To be honest, there’s a tiny piece of me that cross-my-fingers hopes that all the hard work everyone puts into our food and service will somehow change someone’s life.

But every day, I have to remind myself that how things work out in this world is not up to me.

How people perceive the things is entirely up to them. No matter how hard I try, I can’t sway the perceptions of others with my passion, commitment, and East coast willpower. I’m an Aries (read: ram mentality) and the first born of a Massachusetts family, so believe me when I tell you I’ve been trying to exert my will on everyone and everything for years.

The problem with my earnest, heart-felt customer service is that sometimes it backspins. It can hit customers the wrong way. In my earnestness to help I may come across as annoying, or worse, bossy. I may tell a guest something that looks and feels like a YES–but it may come across as a giant NO to them. There are days when my desire to get things right goes awry and the people I work with end up feeling more stomped on then helped.

Being the boss of me

It wasn’t until rather recently that I began to understand that my desire to help and my need to control outcomes was making me–and sometimes the people around me–very unhappy. When people didn’t understand what I was doing for them or to them, I got hurt, defensive, and overbearing. I tried harder to make people understand that my way was the best way rather than try to understand where they were coming from.

There were days when I felt like I was losing the battle in giving great service. I knew something was off. I knew I needed to change the way I did things.

For me, the first step in giving up control is having faith that everything will work out, as it should. I’m learning that if I want to be happy in my life and in my work, I have to accept the results as they come. And boy, is that a hard one.

Luckily, I have a lot of great people around me who are helping me get to a place of acceptance and surrender. These people–my committee, I like to call them–coach me to look at how I can work on myself and leave all the people, places, and things around me alone.

I have to stop making my will to get the things I want the largest factor in the equation of service. In order to be of service to others, my will can’t be bigger than other peoples’. I have to turn the greater than symbol towards love and compassion and put myself on the small side.

So I may or may not be able to make you happy when you come into my restaurant or you come to this website to read what I have to say. The thing I have to keep reminding myself is that As It Should doesn’t always look like How I Want. Everybody hates bad customer service. But customer service isn’t as pretty when it’s delivered like a sledge hammer.

“We should realize that this event [of eating and being fed, is a ritual]…The whole thing of compassion comes in there. What helped me was waking up and thinking of my penny catechism: “to know, to love, to serve God.” I don’t think of God as up there. I think of God as right here in whatever I’m knowing and loving and serving…”

—Joseph Campbell

February 9February 9

Mindful Eating, Mindful Tech

Take a moment to be present. Where are you? What are you doing? What are you eating?

Right this second, I’m sitting in a chair at my computer. I have a cup of mint tea in a warm, clay mug. I have socks on my feet, a big sweater on over my shoulders, and a stick of Morning Star incense burns down to a long, broken comma of ash. My fingers hit the computer keys with confidence. An itch on my back stops me mid-sentence—

What was it I was thinking? What is my intention?

If I’m not careful, I’ll get ahead of myself and think three paragraphs into the future. I’ll edit and hyperlink text in my mind that I haven’t even written down yet. I’ll gulp down an entire cup of tea without paying attention to the flavors of the herbs.

Instead, I choose to stay present. I practice mindfulness of the activity of writing because I know that my best work happens when I am open to The Big Ideas that come. It seems that the more I’m aware, the more I’m clued into something else going on; inspiration comes from a source outside of myself.

Tech and spirituality

More and more people are looking for something bigger than themselves to help get them through their work. For many, the thing that most people reach out to is technology. Reuters recently reported that Americans are willing to go longer without friends and sex than the Internet. But if we continue to reach out for inspiration from electronic sources and don’t take the time to nurture some inner peace and mental awareness, we may very well find ourselves on the other side of an energy crisis of the personal kind. We may miss out on the next great idea because we’re just too busy checking Twitter/Facebook/email/Google reader/pintrest/insert favorite website here. Continue reading “Mindful Eating, Mindful Tech”

December 27December 27

Ignore Everybody

My friend Michael Procopio–a San Francisco based gentleman blogger who fights for the honor of words and glorifies the well-timed delivery of a witty retort–wrote a moving essay on the topic of writer’s block this past week. Michael’s post described how his writing had come to a halt once a desire to create something perfect had settled in. Writer’s block–the kind that demands nothing less than greatness– can not be relieved without the delivery of an impossible ransom. The desire for praise or success only elevates the price. Michael’s essay bared the hard truth; a desire to create something perfect can kill the ability to create.

Oh, man. Who hasn’t felt that way? Who hasn’t longed for a pat on the back? Who hasn’t worked hard on a creative project, only to feel a heightened sense of obligation for the next deed to be even greater than the last? Who hasn’t heard those dark whispers that say the work you’re done is no good. Or worse, that nobody out there really cares?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been frozen by the idea that the last thing I was proud of may be the last good thing I write. And then, just when I’ve talked my self out of the corner, the voice of self-doubt returns to trump the whole thing with the hateful notion that the last thing I put down on paper wasn’t all that great after all. Why bother, it tells me.

Boy, we creative types really can be rotten to ourselves.

Luckily, I’m in something of a good place today, so I can muster something close to a snicker to the dark thoughts that come in and tell me I might as well stop writing. Where do these thoughts come from? Who allows such mean talk to go on in this head of mine? Thanks to Michael’s essay, I’m happy to know I’m not the only writer who has suffered through a block.

Continue reading “Ignore Everybody”

August 18August 18

Find Your Accountability and Visioning Team

visioning and accountability team — It takes courage, strength, hope, and help to make your Big Dreams come true

The Big Dream is hard to achieve when you don’t have anyone but yourself to rely on. You need strength, talent, and motivation to fulfill your desires, but self-will can only get you so far. If you want to be successful in realizing your Big Dream, you better have a few key people in your corner.

Just watch an Oscar speech and you’ll get an idea of just how many people it takes to make one person reach their Big Dream. Friends, family, colleagues, technology crews, and even wardrobe people become essential in making something as simple as acting work.

Who will you need to rely on to make your Big Dream come to fruition? Are you strong enough to ask for help? Who can you trust to give you honest feedback and keep you on point? Because let’s face it, the road to success is too difficult to navigate on your own. There are twists in the road, surprising perils, and unforeseen challenges on the way to The Big Dream.

You need help.

You need advice.

You need directions.

What you need is an accountability team.

Accountability team
An accountability team might be small (one person might be all you really need) or comprehensive (a handful of friends and colleagues who you trust), and be available to you for advice, perspective, mentoring, and guidance. The quantity of helpers isn’t nearly important as the quality of the people, because these individuals will demand that you stay true to your word and deliver on your promises. They must be strong-willed folk who won’t be distracted by excuses and will call your bluff. Your accountability team must be trust worthy, true to their word, and able to offer insightful advice that will push you to go further than you thought you could.

If you think you might want or need an accountability team, the first step is to identify The Big Dream. Got it? Great. Next up, decide if you are ready to make the commitment to support someone else on their road to success. If you can’t give 100 per cent to someone else, then there’s no expecting someone to give the same to you. Accountability teams only work if both parties are willing to put in the hard work. Are you prepared to show up prepared, ready, and excited every time you make an accountability date? Are you prepared to be accountable for the things you say you’re going to do?

Reaching out to others to ask for help and guidance isn’t always an easy thing to do. You’ll have to be vulnerable. You’ll need to have trust or faith in the people you turn to. You’ll have to be willing to take advice. You’ll need to share secrets or personal information. You’ll have to be humble enough to accept critical suggestions and feedback. You’ll have to give credit to others for their help.

Continue reading “Find Your Accountability and Visioning Team”

June 21January 4

Louisiana Seafood: Is it Safe?

“When you think of all the news you’ve seen about Louisiana, what images flash through your mind?” asked Mike Voisin, a seventh-generation Louisiana oysterman. Voisin, the CEO of Motivatit Oysters, paced around the air-conditioned conference room as he spoke to his visiting guests.

An assortment of bloggers and food writers from across the States–hand-picked to observe Louisiana’s seafood industries and partake in the state’s diverse food culture–sat around the conference room table conjuring up images: submerged homes, flood-stranded dogs, desperate men and women on rooftops waving white sheets for help, oil-slicked wildlife, and tar-soaked birds.

“We are not what the perception of what the media has made us,” Voisin said. Despite the fact that almost one hundred percent of the state’s fisheries are open and functioning and have passed national and state testing for health and safety, much of the seafood buying public fear the Gulf-state’s products aren’t safe to eat. According to Voisin, the unprecedented attention of the media has given Louisiana’s seafood industry a bad reputation.

“It’s kind of hard to get that image of an oil slicked pelican out of your mind when you’ve seen it a million times, isn’t it?” Voisin said. “Louisiana has a branding problem…We have shrimp, crabs, and oysters but what we don’t have are people willing to buy.”

The uniquely difficult challenge facing the Louisiana seafood industry is exactly why Louisiana Seafood Promotions and Marketing Board decided they needed to reach out to consumers in a revolutionary way–through food.

An Invitation to see the real Louisiana

When it comes to news headlines, a couple of things sell really well: natural disasters, tragic loss of life, celebrity gossip, hero stories, and adorable animals. When one single news event touches all these aspects with one soaring narrative, it’s a media goldmine.

Blame it on the perfect storm of natural disasters that’s befallen Louisiana over the past seven years, but the state has certainly been the source of a lot of headline news. With Hurricane Katrina in 2005, and Deep Water Horizon’s oil spill in April of 2010, international media teams swooped into the coastal state to document the disasters. Stories of tragedy, redemption, faith, hope, celebrity interest, and distress were easy to find in this Creole/Cajun state.

Thanks to a huge influx of money to the state of Louisiana, much progress has been made in just one year since the oil spill. Houses and businesses have been rebuilt, fisheries and rice fields are producing again, and tourism is improving (According to the tourism board, the state earned 5.3 billion dollars in tourism last year). Yet despite the positive changes and commitment to becoming a strong and successful state, Louisiana’s seafood industry is struggling.

Seeing a problem, Louisiana’s Seafood Promotion and Marketing Board did some research and quickly realized the general public couldn’t get over the horrifying images of the past so easily. So, in order to change perceptions about the seafood and motivate people to start buying Louisiana seafood again, they began devising a different sort of plan to get the word out.

Rather than coming up with slick slogans, cunning advertising, or a give away contest, the Seafood Board decided to call upon a handful of trusted voices in the food world to come and experience Louisiana from a culinary and cultural point of view. Who better to get the word out about a food crisis than a bunch of hungry and inquisitive food bloggers?

food bloggers at Louisiana Seafood Board Blog Master's trip — Bloggers (Amateur Gourmet, Serious Eats, Family Fresh Cooking, and Three Many Cooks) observe the day’s blue crab catch.

Continue reading “Louisiana Seafood: Is it Safe?”

May 5March 14

Mother’s Day Baking Epiphanies

Before there was fear, there was love.

Baking wasn’t always something that frightened me. When I was a child, baking was something I longed for. The art of bread and baked sweets was something rare and special. It was sacred.

One of my first memories of baking was when I was quite young. Maybe I was in a high chair. Or I was just old enough to be trusted to stand on a chair by myself. In this memory, I watch my mother knead dough on a floured counter top. She has her back to me and her long, wavy brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail that reaches down her back. All is quiet as I watch her move through clouds of dusty flour. She’s creating something beautiful from almost nothing.

Betty Crocker Mother's Day — Little girls like me loved watching her mother bake

My mother baked when she was happy. Baking days were especially bright days when we had enough money to buy all the ingredients and take the day to make food together. We’d play Godspell as loud as the stereo would let us, and we’d bake something from a cookbook. I’d stand at her side and observe my mother like a museum patron observes a piece of art. I’d marvel at her chin, her ocean blue eyes, and her big strong hands as she slipped rounds of dough into a rough ceramic bowl the color of raisins.

When I was tall enough to reach the counter I watched almost jealously, as she mothered the bread. I stole glances of my bready siblings as they crept up and nudged their head-shaped mounds against the canopy of damp cloth that draped above them. When it was time, she’d let me touch the dough so I could feel the life in them. Then she’d pick them up, shape them again, and slip them into the stove to be baked into hearty loaves.

Continue reading “Mother’s Day Baking Epiphanies”

March 5March 30

Consider the Chocolate: Askinosie’s Inspired Bar

Some of the world’s greatest ideas have come in the form of divine inspiration. Einstein once said that important discoveries “seemed to have been ever-present in the universe, waiting to be discovered by the master.” The writer William Blake believed his poetry came directly from God. In the case of Shawn Askinosie, a successful criminal lawyer from Springfield Missouri, the journey to become a celebrated chocolate maker started with a prayer for job advice.

It was 2005, and the trial-weary lawyer was on a road trip to an elderly family member’s memorial service. He had some time on his hands and began praying for insight on a job opportunity. What he heard back from his higher power was startling. It said: “You need to make chocolate from scratch.” It’s anybody’s guess why the successful criminal lawyer (and later his entire family) with absolutely no idea how chocolate is made would heed such improbable career guidance. But heed he did, and what’s resulted has been something much bigger than just some award-winning, small-batch chocolate.

Shawn Askinosie of Askinosie Chocolate — Shawn Askinosie, Founder and Chocolate maker of Askinosie Chocolate. Photo: Askinosie Chocolate

Shawn traveled to the Amazon soon after his road trip epiphany, and began learning about the origins of chocolate first hand. In the sticky heat of the jungle, he watched the fermenting and drying process of the cacao beans. He witnessed the rural cacao farmers tending their crops and struggling to feed their families. Then, while standing under a canopy of trees in the Amazonian rain forest, the gray-haired lawyer experienced another kind of awakening.

Askinosie realized he needed to leave his law practice.

Continue reading “Consider the Chocolate: Askinosie’s Inspired Bar”

February 23February 23

Taste of a Better Life

I was in Ann Arbor, Michigan when everything changed. It was October, and I was like the trees of the college town—tall, proud and newly painted with the vibrant colors of transformation. I was a sight to behold—a woman with a heavy backpack and camera around her neck—proud, energized, and flush with the bright hues of an internal revolution. I glowed with happiness as the passing days brought life-altering change. I gave things up. I invited change. I stopped wasting time. I found a new way of writing. I found a new kind of love. I felt like a long-limbed Maple in full flush.

As pieces of my former-self scattered with the altering winds of November, I embraced the conversion. I begged for change. But by the end of December, I was stripped bare of all that I once was. I was as simple as a line drawing of a tree on a snowy hill.

In the austere simplicity of my new life, I realized I needed to live simply. Like a tree, all that I truly needed was food, water, and the all-powerful light from above. Without these things, I realized I could not thrive. And yet–before the Fall of change—I was living life on much less. Food, wine, and work was all that sustained me. Water and light were an occasional luxury. My roots were never tended.

But now, all of that has changed.

The most significant thing is how much light I have in my life now. And water. For what may be the first time, I seek out nourishment. Food fulfills me, rather than covers or mutes deeper problems. I’ve turned away from the numbing comforts of wine and cocktails and embraced being in the moment fully. I dedicate myself to plugging in, not checking out. I find inspiration everywhere. Now, I shy away from my blog’s stats page and listen to the analytics of my muses.

According to the voices of inspiration, it’s time I start writing about chocolate. Continue reading “Taste of a Better Life”

February 15February 25

Defining Quality, a Food Blogger’s Equation

lexicon of food blogging — *a typographic representation of a simple equation

Though I hate algebra and loathe the fact that I still can’t quite recall the entirety of my multiplications table, equations are my way of making sense of incredibly complex situations. It all started when I was a kid trying to make sense of a chaotic childhood. Equations like mom + dad + siblings = family worked for me. The simplicity of equations helped me skip the confusing parts (arguments, lack of money, bills not getting paid, neglect).

They say that the adult human mind naturally organizes knowledge of the world into systems—or, in my case, basic equations—in order to understand life’s lexicon. Equation-based thinking can be a good thing—until you stop being mindful of the true value of things.

Take for example, this equation:

Food Woolf = Food Blog

Food Blogs ≠ Food Woolf

(Food Woolf is a food blog. Not every food blog is Food Woolf.)

Yeah, I know. That equation is obvious. But you’ll have to be patient with me on this. Because what I’m about to talk about does get a little complicated.

I know that all food blogs are not built to be the same. Yet, there are times when I think we all forget that other blogs aren’t built like ours. We get frustrated. We might even get petty. And sometimes, we can even take other people’s words and acts personally because they don’t share our point of view.

I am a writer and a restaurant professional. I view the world with a very particular point of view. So when I read other people’s blogs, I perceive the work from the perspective of a writer and a restaurant professional. I’m aware that there are plenty of blogs out there that aren’t looking to win any literary awards. And yet, sometimes—when I’m not at my best–I forget that not everyone has the same goals as I do.

Rather than enjoy a blog for what it is, I can get lost in my internal editor mode. I get irritated by things like ALL CAPS rants, two paragraph posts, and words like yummy, drool, and delicious. Thin stories, laundry list posts, and paragraphs filled with empty descriptions can leave me feeling more than unsatisfied. On bad days, I can get judgmental and angry.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Continue reading “Defining Quality, a Food Blogger’s Equation”

January 30February 6

You Are Fascinating

Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.

I know. That idea is contradictory to what most people will tell you. Everyone is original? Everyone does have a talent? Yes. Every person does have a story to tell. Granted, some stories are flashier than others (especially if you’re an LA girl who marries a cowboy and moves to the ranch to raise cattle) but that doesn’t mean your life (in a tiny apartment in Paris) isn’t worth writing about.

Making something from nothing is daunting. Sustaining the life of your food blog requires commitment and inspiration. Some people turn to friends for creative encouragement. Others seek inspirational stimulation from a good speech, a well-placed sermon, a great movie, a beautiful piece of art, nature, or a workshop. It’s easy to miss the tiny voice of encouragement inside of you when there are plenty of people around feeding you information that cuts away at your self-confidence.

Don’t believe the voices that tell you that what you do isn’t special. You are.

“Remember these two things: you are talented, and you are original. Be sure of that. I say this because self-trust is one of the very most important things in writing.” –Brenda Ueland, “If You Want to Write”

Some notes on finding your voice:

On your way to figure out who you are, take notes. Show your readers—through words—who you are while you cook, shop, and do the things you enjoy.
Don’t try to write in a style you think WE want to read. Write the way you think.
Avoid easy, superficial or automatic language.
Your words should be true, tested inwardly, and based on something that means something to you.

A writing exercise:

Describe who you are when you go to the farmers market. Remember, it isn’t important that you go to the market. It’s who you are when you’re at the market. What makes you happy, nervous, excited, shut down?

Describe who you are when you go to the grocery store. What’s different about you in this place? Is there something that annoys you about the smell of your market? Does the spice/meat/international aisle freak you out?

Tell us: What inspires you to get honest and tell good stories on your blog?

December 30December 30

A New Year’s Resolution

The morning starts as afternoon. A cotton pillowcase is the first texture of the New Year to greet me. Next comes the crushing pressure in the skull that only champagne and sweet bourbon cocktails can give. Then there’s the dry rub of dehydration on my tongue. My need for water is intense, but that want is superseded by the weight of my hangover.

Happy New Year.

It’s at this moment–the instant when I am overcome with a compelling need for something greasy, unhealthy, and heavy on the bacon–that I remember to write my New Year’s resolutions. Later, over breakfast, I’ll thank my lucky stars I didn’t drink more than I did and then jot something down in a notebook. Waiting until the last minute to write my resolutions was a convenient way of avoiding the deeper work of preparing for a new year. I could easily jot something cheery and hopeful down, post it up by my desk, and then do my best to work towards those goals. If I didn’t hit the mark, it wasn’t a profound loss because I hadn’t invested too much time into my plans.

At least, that’s the way things used to happen.

For what feels like the first time ever, I’m approaching the New Year with a clear vision of what I want to achieve. For almost two months now, I’ve been taking a sober look at my life. I’ve spent the winter holidays alcohol free and have used all the extra time and energy I’ve acquired to figure out what’s my place in the world. I’m wrestling with the question of what’s expected of me as a human being.

This year, I’ve got my resolutions written and a vision for my coming year penned way in advance of the ball dropping. Clearly, when you write your New Year’s resolutions says a lot about where you are at in your life.

Back in what feels like the olden days, I convinced myself that the reason why I waited until the last moment to write out my resolutions was because I needed to let inspiration run through the rough grains of the 365 days of the closing year. But the real reason was that I was afraid to take an honest inventory of my life and see where I was headed. I was perfectly content to skim the surface of my life.

Luckily, things are very different around here this New Years.

Continue reading “A New Year’s Resolution”

December 12January 4

Hungry in America

Hunger is a powerful thing. In a country where status and positioning get valued above happiness, shame can be even more powerful. Shame has a way of hardening up like a thousand pound bead of amber that drops through the depths of your heart and deposits itself on the very bottom of you. It’s still there but it can no longer be seen. It’s only until you bring shame to the surface and deal with it, that you can let it go.

Shame can stop you from doing things. It can stop you from admitting to doing something wrong. Or even telling the truth about something you did right. Shame may be the main reason why childhood hunger is such a huge problem. Struggling families with kids feel so much shame they don’t take the help that’s available to them. Often, shame trumps the pain of hunger.

My most recent post about Share Our Strength (an organization looking to eradicate childhood hunger in America) wasn’t as honest as it could have been. I let deadlines take precedence over the need to be honest. I did a little research, quoted a few good stats, and attached a recipe. Infused vodka makes a very nice gift. That’s enough, right?

The thing is, I was afraid to tell the truth. I was once a hungry kid.

I hesitate to write this for fear of hurting anyone in my family. Yes, I was hungry once. No, I wasn’t hungry for long stretches of time. But the pain of being hungry as a child and powerlessness I felt because of it, marked me. Neglect lived everywhere in my childhood home. But nothing affected me as much as the neglect I experienced in the kitchen.

That’s why I’m taking the time to circle back, get humble, and open myself up to the honest truth. Because, in order for me to do the work that I’m supposed to do in service and in writing, I need to be vulnerable and honest in everything I put down on the page.

Luckily, I don’t have lots of memories of being hungry. But one day in particular–the day I tried to get help—sticks with me. It sticks with me because the cry for help was ignored and judged by a trusted neighbor.

Continue reading “Hungry in America”

December 4August 16

Service 101: Energy Crisis in America

“There’s an energy crisis occurring in America and it’s happening in the hearts and minds of its people,” said my friend Ari Weinzweig, in a recent conversation. He shared with me how clear he was that there’s an energy crisis going on–one that’s just as serious as the one centered around our planet’s resources– in our nation’s workforce. Working men and women are checked out, uninterested, frustrated, unfulfilled, and looking forward to going home and doing something else. Poll most people and they’ll tell you the only place they can find emotional rewards or intellectual stimulation it’s outside of the workplace. It seems that the happy and fulfilled worker is a lucky, rare bird with the good fortune to have stumbled across a very special job in a very place.

People who are truly happy in their work naturally give off a positive energy. Those that are happy in their work have a way of making the people around them happy. And unless you are a shut off individual with no ability to read energy, the good feeling coming off happy individuals is contagious.

I recently had an epiphany about the power of good energy the other day while spending some time at Huckleberry, a neighborhood bakery and gourmet café in Santa Monica, California.

Happiness is a transferable energy source

Huckleberry was packed the moment I arrived. Despite having secured a table off to the side of the small eating area, I was stepped on, brushed against, and more than occasionally jostled by the long line of customers waiting to be served. I didn’t really care about the unconscious manhandling of the hungry guests, however. I had a bowl of silky and dense yogurt covered in a blanket of golden granola to savor.

But it was more than the power of oven-toasted oats that made me feel so content. It seemed that my good mood was a direct result of the energy of the place. The positive energy was so abundant I could tap into it—like my laptop plugged into the wall jack–and fill up for later.

Continue reading “Service 101: Energy Crisis in America”

November 25March 14

Thanks Giving

A house burns down. A loved one dies. A relationship falls apart. A love ends. A lifetime of work comes to a crashing halt. Mother nature chews up homes and spits out splinters. When the bedrock of one’s life is shaken, the structures above it give way.

When everything you knew is no longer valid and life as you knew it is scattered to the wind, what continues to be true? What pieces of your life do you collect up and take with you?

What is it that you hold in your two hands and say “Thank God I have this.”

Maybe that thing you hold is a loved one, a treasured snapshot, a letter, a phone with a loved one on the other end, a piece of art, or a piece of toast handed to you by a friend. Maybe it’s just ashes that’s left, and you’re thankful for the life you still have. Regardless, when all is lost, it is the simple, beautiful things that remain that you give thanks for.

Things turned upside down for me a week ago when I got honest about some difficult things going on in my life. I stood up for myself, got honest, and took a stand for what it is I want.

Then, I my placed my life into a crucible and lit a match.

My life has been re-written a million times in just one week. Up is down. Down is east. Left is right. Day is night. Right is wrong. My structured life with pretty little hospital corners and black and white decisions no longer exists. I live in a world of gray. Now, my pristine bed is unmade, and—the irony isn’t lost on me—the sheets I sleep on are torn from all my tossing and turning.

What remains? Beautiful, profound things. Friendship. Family. Sunlight. A mouthful of food when I’m hungry. Sleep. A snapshot. A journal. A blanket to keep warm. The view from atop a mountain. An air mattress to sleep on. A vegetable stand at the farmers’ market. A slice of blueberry bread. Love.

When all is lost, it becomes a lot easier to see what’s truly important. The frivolous items or ideas I collected up and held close for safekeeping have fallen away. I don’t need those things any more. I give thanks to the true things. My friends. My family. Sunlight on the ocean. Food in my belly. The feel of the sun on my face.

What remains is love. Continue reading “Thanks Giving”

November 15January 4

A Recipe for Better Food Writing

The key to great writing, a wise friend once told me, is to look at the subject from the inside out. “It’s not about what you think you should say,” he said. “It’s about what’s going on inside of you.” So, though I’d love to say I have a great recipe and sexy food shot for you today, instead I have a recipe for observing*.

Food + Eyes + Nose + Mouth + Imagination = Taste

The first step in this equation is to make a dish. Or buy a ripe piece of fruit. Maybe even sneak a square of chocolate from your secret hiding place. Then, take a quiet moment to take in all that it is. What do you see? What do you smell? What does it feel like? Does this food remind you of something?

recipe for better food writing — Non-SEO’d illustration

I’ve been obsessing over pears lately. It all started up in San Francisco when I took an aggressive bite of a perfectly ripe Frog Hollow pear. The surprise of texture, flavor, and—let me be honest here, sticky juice running down my arm–gave me one of those rare food moments that instantly transported to the bedroom of my mind. Everything about that pear reminded me of tossed sheets and pulled curtains.

If you were at the tasting pavillion at the Food Buzz conference, you might have seen me blush. It’s been a while since I had one of those sexy fruit moments.

So, ever since that sensual bite, I’ve been feeling up pears all over Los Angeles. I seek the green and browned skinned fruit at the market with eager fingers. Is this one soft enough? How about this one? A farmer at a fruit stand today watched me as I picked over a pile of hard, green pears. “These guys are crisp,” he said, “but they’re really good.”

I couldn’t hold back my displeasure. “I want something really juicy and dirty,” I said and scurried away before he could identify me. What’s gotten over me? Continue reading “A Recipe for Better Food Writing”

November 12December 4

A Poem

Quiet, quiet. Still, still.

Hush away the buzzing whir of empty chatter,

rushing traffic, hour to hour radio.

The burble of the office building.

Leave me with computer hum, clicking keys,

and the promise of words (private words).

Let time fill me with unending space.

Show me the way to the next line.

Only God knows where this is leading.

Quiet, quiet. Still, still.

Without witness I am most alive.

This isn’t a blog about poetry, I know. You’ll have to forgive me for the side step. But poetry is something that sometimes happens to us writer types. It sneaks its way in between the cracks sometimes, and carves out a space that begs for attention. Poems are like that. Just like people.

Though these words came to me in a steady stream while driving through LA over six years ago, they seem especially true for Right Now and I felt compelled to share them with you.

Our world is moving so fast right now–what with iPhones, iPads, Twitter, blogs, media streams going! going! going! It’s incredible that none of that technology really existed when I wrote this poem. And yet…I stumbled across this poem the other day and thought it was a perfect way to celebrate the three year anniversary of my blog and where I am right now.

No matter how busy the world gets, it’s important to be still. Still within yourself. Because without that quiet, nothing good, clean, or true can come.

That is all.