Epic. It's my new favorite word. I can't stop saying it. And I'm sure everyone around me can't stand hearing it. It's just stuck in my head and currently living on the edge of my tongue.
I used the word WAY too many times yesterday. Once, when describing the epic "blackberry honey-hole" I found during my walk around the meadow. Then again when I mentioned the epic nachos I was making for dinner. And yet another time when I said I needed to go on this epic diet, after I ate the epic nachos and this epic shake. Oy. I guess I need a new word. I think it's going to be pariah. Don't ask me why.
So here's one of the reasons this shake is epic. First of all, when I buy buttermilk, I always buy the Bulgarian version. You see, buttermilk in its natural state is low-fat. It's the thin liquid left over after you churn butter from cream. Commercially-made buttermilk is created by adding bacteria cultures to milk, then heating the mixture to give it that tart, slightly fermented taste.
BUT, the Bulgarian version is a type of cultured buttermilk in which cream cultures are supplemented or replaced by yogurt cultures and fermented at higher temperatures for higher acidity. It can be more tart and thicker than cultured buttermilk. This is why it's epic. It's the only buttermilk I ever buy. And it is thicker and yummier and makes everything taste great. I hope you have it at your market. And I wish I knew why this process makes it "Bulgarian". Anyone?
The year was 1996. I had just moved to San Francisco from Chicago,
finally ridding myself of those long midwest winters and trading them
in for even colder summers in the Bay Area. All joking aside, it was an
eye-opening experience for me and one that I embraced fully. I absorbed
the California experience on every level and tasted my way through the
City, spending Saturday mornings at the old farmers’ market before it
moved to the Ferry Building and familiarizing myself with local foods
and personalities.
Little Gracie had been feeling under the weather all day Wednesday. She had no interest in running and playing, choosing to curl up and sleep for most of the day. And, she was coughing.
I love the sunrises in Edgartown. Our bedroom faces East on the Harbor, and the sunrises are breathtaking - quite powerful. (Red in the Morning; Sailor’s Warning)
I’m not sure why I always through crumbles needed to be sweet. Is it because I’m usually eating them weekly smack dab in the middle of summer? Probably. But last month in Paris we stopped by a lovely little shop and café for lunch where Adam ordered a Zucchini Crumble, a small dish of tender eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes and onions topped with a savory buttery topping and a sprinkle of fresh herbs.