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In rough times like these with the economy falling down around our knees and election weeks away, we all need to find some silver linings to revitalize our souls – at least temporarily. For me that means going to the Portland Farmer’s Market on Saturday mornings and making a beeline for Roger the Mushroom Man. Living in the Pacific Northwest, America’s mushroom breadbasket affords me a wide (and wild) variety of shrooms. But none are better – or more expensive – than the matsutake – tricholoma magnivelar for you science-heads. This meaty, spicy cinnamon, earthly flavored delight is harvested in the Cascade Mountains. Most of them are shipped off to Japan where the best ones – those with a tight cap – go for over a grand a pound. Roger sells them for $36 dollars a pound; but being an über-honest dude, sells the ones which have been invaded by worms for $12. While I am not offended by the taste of worms – in fact I have had a few that were quite pleasing to my palate – I do not like digging them out of my matsutakes. |


Fall has finally arrived in sunny Los Angeles and it’s that slight chill in the air that makes me yearn for warm soups, one pot stews, and hearty pasta dishes. One night a week pasta is on the menu and it was this dish that my eldest son chose for his week night pick. All three of my boys are “required” to pick a meal each week and it is their job to help me prep and cook the entire thing(those that don’t cook are on clean up duty). Eli, being 15, is pretty darn good with the knife and watching him dice the vegetables was a proud moment.
Steak and Mushrooms…Yum.
This past weekend at the BlogHer Conference, I was on a panel entitled, "The Meaning of Identity and The Value of Voice in a Crowded Foodblogging World." I shared the stage with three lovely and talented food bloggers: Dianne of
When you grow up in Rhode Island, you just can't comprehend 90 degree temperatures in October. While San Diego enjoys nearly perfect 70 degree weather year round, its hottest days are often in October, when dry desert air blows westward and bakes us like cookies in a convection oven.