To The World's Greatest Dad

Recently, I had the opportunity to take apart and reassemble my father's mid-1960's photo journal in a new archival album. It was a great pleasure for me, since I knew this album well and spent many hours looking at it as a young girl. It represents the period of time during which he dated my mom in Pasadena, graduated from Cal Tech, and served a mission for our church in Belgium and France.

I love my dad and am very grateful for the unique perspective he has brought to my life. He taught us to think. It's not often a deliberate course of instruction from parent to child, but it was in our family. His positive influence over his posterity is unmistakable, and so with love I say: Happy Father's Day, Dad! 

If You Could Hie To Anywhere In The Twinkling Of An Eye...

... where would you go?

Lately, I have been dreaming of the years we spent in Palo Alto, California. I see the colors of the twilight sky. I feel the cool air that drifts from the ocean over the mountains each evening. I smell the Eucalyptus trees and jasmine, the freshly mown grass at Christmas time. I walk down University Avenue, make a right on Waverly, enter my favorite haunt, sit in a rickety old chair, read the Palo Alto Weekly, drink hot chocolate and eat a chocolate pecan bar.

That haunt, The Prolific Oven, is a very special place and one that I miss often. One of the only bakeries I have ever seen open till 10 or 11 pm, it drew in Stanford students, townsfolk, the cool, the unhip, it didn't matter. We were all one there. It's not as fancy or gourmet as Gayle's, nor does it have its own cookbook, but it makes good goodies and I loved it there. When I worked nearby, we would celebrate birthdays with one of their cakes. They even made a zucchini cake back then, which I requested one year and my boss refused to eat. (It was great, by the way. Very moist.)

I was lying awake thinking about these things, and decided that one of the most needed inventions is an instant transporter. It would look a lot like a shower stall (maybe the controls could be fitted into an existing unit?) and you get in with your packed carry-on if needed, turn the dial to your location of choice, and- zappo!- there you are. You could even zap the whole family.

Imagine: California for the afternoon, back by bedtime. You've got four free hours on Friday? Great- you're off to your favorite Paris museum. Long weekend? New Zealand is calling you. Need to relax? Dial up the Seychelles. Imagine being able to go to every important family event.

This is surely not as grand as the vision W. W. Phelps had about traveling through space for spiritual enlightenment, but maybe someday I'll live to see this idea of an invention realized. For now, I get to suffer through agonizing air travel... or dream.

Where do you dream of being?

Ralph Ray "Doc" Younce

My paternal Grandfather passed away today. He was 94 years and 9 weeks old and celebrated his 70th wedding anniversary yesterday with his wife, Edna.

When I was a kid, I thought he was one of the funniest people in the world. His mother was Irish, and there was a bit of that lilt to his speech. His thoughts often streamed out in little ditties and songs. (Picture left, 1918)

He attended Colorado Agricultural College and the School of Veterinary medicine in Ft. Collins, Colorado. (Picture right, 1934)



He was the only person I have ever known with false teeth- quite a curiosity as a child. His hobbies included gardening, golf, woodworking and carpentry- to which he lost the top half of several fingers, but it never phased him. He made hundreds of wonderful painted wooden cars which he donated to the children at the local hospital in Oregon. (Picture left, picking grapes with me in 1975)


He completed the daily crossword puzzle in the newspaper for years and years. His memory was impeccable and his knowledge encyclopedic... at least until Alzheimer's set in a few years back. As a grandfather, he was lots of fun. We will miss him greatly.
(Picture right, 1996)

Sweet September

September is my favorite month. It used to be November, and that still ranks pretty high, but I discovered September a few years back and it just keeps getting better.

As a child, September had all the classic associations: school starting and all the related excitement, crisper air and bluer skies, the anticipation of fall colors, etc. For years and years that's all it was- and the beginning of school overwhelmed most of those other things. Then, in 2000, we spent the month of September at my mother-in-law's house in northern Utah. Sonja was not quite a year old, and I was her full-time caretaker. Quinn was in between an internship and the next year of graduate school, so we had a month to spend with his family. Sonja learned to walk and spent so much quality time with Grandma. It was so great that we did it again the next year.

It was a time of discovery for me as well. Her backyard was the most magnificent garden I have ever seen. There were fruit trees: plum, pear, apricot, white nectarine, and 2 kinds of apple. There were vegetables galore: zucchini, several varieties of peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, onions, potatoes, and corn. I never liked pears before I had them ripened straight off the tree. I remember feeling so grateful for the God-given miracle of growing food.

We had grown a big garden for a number of years when I was a kid, but I was too young to really get it. But while we were in Utah those two Septembers, ALL the fruits and vegetables were ripening. There was some serious harvesting to do- every day! It was so very enjoyable to wander out each morning with Sonja and two baskets and bring in the bounty. We made some great meals. After living in apartments for so long (without much green around), those Septembers soothed my soul. Oh, and the weather was absolutely perfect.

Since then, I have begun to notice how much I like September. The weather has been beautiful in most of the places we've lived. Vermont's September is marvelous. Most tourists miss it because it's pre-color, but it is really great. I have a different perspective on the beginning of school now. It means more structure for Quinn, Sonja, and Laurel. It means quiet peaceful hours for Torin and me to take a walk, play outside, or read books uninterrupted. And when he's asleep- goodness me- I hardly know what to do.

One of the best things about September is that I stop and appreciate the glorious world around me. I see the full variety of early fall colors in the zinnias, calendula and sunflowers, the grass, trees, and sky; I smell the air and feel the wind again; I taste the fruits of whatever labor I was able to perform in the garden over the summer... and it is all very sweet.

What's your favorite month?

My Paintbrush

There's a brand new window in my kitchen, and tonight I've finished painting the trim around it. On my paintbrush was Behr's Black Suede in high gloss: pure lampblack in a dark-based paint. It's totally gorgeous. Viscous, deep, and striking, it's one of the best paints I've ever used. And I've used a lot of paint.

It was the lampblack, though, that made my mind go back to my days as a producer of gum bichromate photographs. From David Scopick's The Gum Bichromate Book, I learned the basics of how to make a non-silver photographic print. It was a process that took a lot of trial and error to use. I can't say I perfected it, because every time I used a different color, the process changed. It became my obsession- and my final BFA project in college.

Here are the essential steps. First, expose and process a 4x5 or 8x10 black and white negative. (No small feat.) Next, mix ammonium dichromate, gum arabic, and your choice of watercolor pigments to make a light-sensitive emulsion. Lampblack was suggested as the color to use for black and white results, so that's what I used the first time. Next, paint the emulsion on a piece of watercolor paper that has already been "sized" (i.e. coated with gesso, spray starch, or soaked in a formaldehyde solution). When it's dry, place your negative on it and sandwich it between a piece of glass and a board. Expose it to a strong UV light source. Place the paper, emulsion side down, in a tray of warm water. The highlights will dissolve, and the shadows will stick. Voila, you just made a gum bichromate photographic print.

As I got the hang of it, I began to experiment with other colors. Actually, I began to experiment before I really had the process down, which led to a lot of failures. Anyway, I had seen the gum bichromate prints of a professor from Utah State who used unusual colors, so I got creative.

One successful print was a picture of three pears, taken at my dorm room in Norway. I printed it using only light yellow pigment, then used watercolors on the finished print to give the pears a very faint blush. Another favorite is a small print of the Manti, Utah LDS temple done in light blue and yellow. The blue image above is the center court of the Ibn Tulun mosque in Cairo. This process lends itself best to strong graphic negatives- not too detailed- and so portraits look wonderful, too.

Oh, if the chemicals were not so caustic and the process a little more predictable (and my current job not quite so demanding), I might be tempted to dabble again... but I know that's an ambition for another time. For now I'll settle for a paintbrush dipped in thick lampblack paint and the satisfaction of finishing another small home-improvement project.

Grandma's recipes

I'm on vacation this week, visiting my parents in Virginia. Yesterday, my Mom handed me a purple folder which contained a somewhat random sample of pages copied from my Grandmother's recipe binder. Most include notations Grandma Cummings made about substitutions or advice or the recipe's source. These are wonderful, and vividly congure up my Grandma and her unique cooking style.

Included are: the original Tillamook casserole recipe, her mother's breakfast cake, Scottish trifle, Lemon Angel & Peach Chiffon pies, salmon loaf, lefsa, etc., etc. Many of these were from Grandma's Mother or Mother-in-law or Grandmother. It made me wonder which recipes my children will think are important to copy out of my binder and pass on.

What about you? Pot roast? Kung Pao Chicken? Mustard ring? Rivel soup? Cinnamon rolls? Pie? List a few of the most memorable dishes your Mother/Grandmother/Great-Grandmother/Mother-in-law or Father/Grandfather makes or made.
You don't have to give the recipe for them- just a list of faves (or not-so-faves) and who made it.

I left my heart in Pizza A Go Go

I'm a big fan of pizza. It's so simple, efficient, doesn't require utensils, not to mention it's delicious! You can get most of the food groups represented without much effort, and it lends itself to creativity.

Pizza was just pizza, though, until I tried the BBQ chicken selection at Pizza A Go Go in Palo Alto, California, 8 or 9 years ago. I wasn't sure I'd like it, but it seriously changed my whole outlook on pizza. Mmmmm! It's simply this: bbq sauce, chicken, red onions, and cilantro. See? Simple. Delicious.

At the time, I worked at a multi-function lab called PhotoTime. It was a great place to work and I had good friends there. When I left for Boston in 1999, they gave me a pizza send-off complete with my favorite, plus a gift for my expected baby- a little yellow Pizza A Go Go onesie. I'm sure it's a collector's item by now.

We moved back to Palo Alto in 2000 and left in 2001, only to move back again in 2002. (Long story.) By this time, Pizza A Go Go had merged with (and was now called) Pizza My Heart out of Capitola/Santa Cruz. We tried the new place, but it wasn't quite the same. It had grown up a bit and lost some of its geekyness. The pizza was still pretty good, and they still made the BBQ chicken, thank goodness. This time, I bought myself a t-shirt which I wear when I'm gardening.


Why am I telling you all this? I'm starting a new "What's for dinner?" thread. Tonight I made my version of the BBQ chicken pizza, which I served with watermelon. It was all about triangles. If I'd been really on top of things, I would have made cherry turnovers for dessert. Anyway....

Here's my recipe for the best California pizza ever: Spread your favorite pizza dough with your favorite bbq sauce. (Tonight I used Sweet Baby Ray's honey chipotle.) Next, sprinkle on some feta cheese if you have it. Add chopped or shredded BBQ chicken (I save some from a bbq chicken dinner, but you can cook up some chicken in sauce if you want or use some deli rotisserie mixed with sauce). Next I take a big red onion, slice it up and cut half the rings into quarters and half into bits. The bits get several handfuls of chopped cilantro mixed in. The larger onion pieces get caramelized in a little water, a tablespoon of butter and 1 or 2 tablespoons of sugar. Add caramelized onion to pizza, then top with some shredded mozzarella cheese. Finally, add the cilantro/onion mix. Bake till done. Inhale.

What's going on in your kitchen?

Middle Eastern Food

Middle Eastern food is so delicious. Pomegranates, watermelon and other strange melons, cinnamon and ginger in meat dishes, lamb, rice pudding, things made with chickpeas, parsley and cilantro in everything, mint and cucumbers in yogurt, really fresh cheese... these are a few of my favorite things.

The best hummus I have ever had was at the Nouroz restaurant on 3rd circle in Amman, Jordan. Not only was it great hummus, but it was drizzled with olive oil, fabulous ground lamb, and toasted pine nuts. I can't even remember what we ordered after that. Equally as memorable, though not as impressive, was the on-street falafel served with tabasco sauce on a hot dog bun- also in Amman.

Ankara, Turkey, has fantastic food as well as a few strange things- well, strange to my American tastes. I remember a sandwich on a huge hoagie roll stuffed with fries, peas, chicken, and ketchup. Hmmm. However, nothing will ever compare to Kebap 49's Iskender kebap: thin slices of lamb over pide bread topped with a tomato sauce and browned butter, with a thick yogurt on the side. Not exactly low in cholesterol, but incredibly delicious. The best Turkish breakfast was at the Paper Moon hotel in Kalkan. The cucumbers were freshly picked from the garden, as were the tomatoes, and the eggs and cheese were so good. Kalkan also provided the special treat of gozleme (really flat bread, like a paper thin grilled tortilla) filled with chocolate and oranges.

I've never been to Morocco, but I love their food. I've tried many dishes from Kitty Morse's Cooking at the Kasbah, and every one has been amazing. My all-time favorite has to be the b'stila b'djej (chicken b'stila). What a combination! It's a big baked pastry layered with sweet cinnamon-chicken and almond fillings. None of this stuff can be made in today's 30-minutes-or-less fad; in fact, some of it takes all day. I love it.