It doesn't take much to motivate me to hop on the train and head south to Portland. Though some motivations are more pronounced than others. As was the case last week when rock-star butcher Dario Cecchini was in town. Soon as I'd heard word of his pending visit a few months back, I'd been inspired to see the man work. Not because I'm a butchery fanatic. But because I've come to relish any opportunity to gain first-hand, direct insights into the character and craft of a person as singularly talented and accomplished as Signore Cecchini. Another example, another genre -- but I had similar feelings about the opportunity to hear documentary filmmaker Ken Burns speak in Seattle last summer. I found it fully invigorating to hear the bright, thoughtful, inquisitive, creative man talk about his work, the process of research and telling ...

“So, do you want to maybe go to Germany today?”  Anne-Marie asked us. Not your usual breakfast time conversation but it’s one of the benefits of spending time in the Alsace region of France. Taking a brief drive to have lunch in Germany is a fully realistic option. And we took our friends up on it during a trip in the fall of 2010, piled in the car and in about 30 minutes’ time were crossing the border onto German soil. Such a glorious day, the adventure, the company, the weather. Perfect. I had no idea an iconic food experience was to be on the agenda as well. Actually two, perhaps. The sausage/pickles/vegetables lunch I had at the Sonne-Post inn our friends frequent seemed so typically German, and delightful. (Apparently that inn hosts a culinary festival each year that our friends attend ...

I was heartbroken when I first heard Bruce Naftaly's voicemail message this morning, letting me know that he and his wife and business partner Sara had decided to close Le Gourmand and Sambar in early June. I've been a card-carrying fan of Le Gourmand for many years, and of Sambar from the first French 75 I sipped on that glorious garden patio. How could the news be true? But a few minutes later when I had a chance to talk with Bruce directly, I started to feel a bit better. Still sad. As is he, most certainly. Though hearing him talk of the good that's around the corner, the opportunities that await, the new adventures that their future holds -- I'm more heartened, less heart-broken. A sad as I am for myself and the now-limited prospects of future Le Gourmand and Sambar indulgences (poor, poor me!!), I'm as sad for the ...

It can be pretty easy today to buy quite good commercial ice creams, whether one of the many regional small-scale producers -- like Snoqualmie from my back yard -- or premium national brands (I don't really love regular Häagen-Dazs, but am a fan of the Five line). I even sampled at the Fancy Food Show earlier this month a new line of gelati that are due to be launched in retail channels under Mario Batali's brand. If the espresso and caramel flavors I tasted are any indication, those will be a worthwhile indulgence now and then. Despite the convenience of commercial ice cream, it remains one of my favorite treats to whip up at home. It's really not a complicated process. Just takes a bit of time to make the custard (my preferred ice cream type) and make certain it's well ...

There are so many reasons that it's been as long as it has since I last sat down to write a post here. I won't bore you with details, aside from the more recent reason that I was out of town for most of December. It was a trip my husband and I had been looking forward to for many months, since springtime when he determined how he'd like to celebrate the noteworthy birthday milestone he'd be hitting this month. The months went by with loads of work and other distractions. Before we knew it, departure date was upon us. After first flying to Florida, we boarded the MS Statendam in Ft. Lauderdale and set off on a 14-day cruise that took us across the Caribbean Sea, through the Panama Canal, up the western coast of Central America and Mexico, disembarking in San Diego two days before ...

I can't say how many times a food story I've written, or recipe I've developed, has come with a story of my mother. My favorite is this one, which ended up getting picked up by Saveur's online offerings and has, in the long run, become one of the most popular posts on my blog. Which I'm proud of not at all for the number of visitors it represents. But instead for the fact that each person who landed there had an opportunity to be introduced to my mother, indirectly, through a broken-down refrigerator and a not-all-that-unique recipe for banana bread. It was ten years ago this week that I lost my mom. You might recall  last month we all were reminded of the brutal, harsh reality we all lived through with the attacks of 9/11/01. I felt part of that bigger world, living, experiencing, processing the reactions to that ...

After a particularly hectic, demanding, tiring summer, we were in need of a quick and relaxing get-away late last month. Though the Seattle-area has loads of regional escape plans that radiate out from the city--Whidbey Island, Walla Walla, the ocean coast, Port Townsend, Hood Canal--I wanted to be unwinding sooner than later, so minimum highway time was a plus. We opted for Bainbridge Island, a quick 30-minute ferry trip from downtown Seattle and though the summertime Friday ferry traffic meant an hours' wait on the dock, at least it was an hour reading and chilling out, not an hour fighting rush-hour on I-5. My friend, chef and fellow food writer Greg Atkinson, clued us into the top dining spot to check out while on the island (at least, that is, until his own restaurant Marché opens in a few months!). And I ...

  It had been a good 15 to 20 years or so since my last trip to Astoria. So I was especially happy when an invitation came through from the Oregon Albacore Commission and the Western Fishboat Owners Association to join on an albacore escapade to Astoria last week. Didn't hurt that I'd recently put my latest cookbook to bed. The prospect of a mini road trip to the ocean coast sounded like just what the doctor ordered after a particularly hectic few months of mostly work and little play. Astoria is a gem of a city, with a unique setting near the mouth of the glorious Columbia River, just a few miles from where the river spills out into the Pacific Ocean. My husband (then just the boyfriend) and I made numerous trips through Astoria, driving Highway 101 from college in Tacoma, Washington to visit his family down in Bay Area. We never drove I-5 ...

I love this snippet about "How to Forage for Mushrooms" from a not-too-long-ago issue of Esquire magazine. (My husband pulls random pages out for me -- this one doesn't happen to have the issue month on it.) Step 1 reads "Find a humid forest." followed by Step 2: "Leave that forest and go to a farmers market or a good grocery store." They then go on to talk about general tips for choosing mushrooms. At the store. I had to laugh because that was pretty much the advice I had in my cookbook Wild Mushrooms. I was adamant about not suggesting folks just run off into the woods to grab some mushrooms, instead directing them to mycological societies if they want to learn more about foraging for wild mushrooms. But then again, I'm a nervous Nellie anyway. I didn't grow up hunting ...

All work and no play has been making Cynthia somewhat dingbatty. Honestly. It's that kind of brain-frizz that makes me turn in circles in the kitchen 3 or 4 times before I remember that all I needed to do was grab a knife out of the drawer to spread peanut butter on this morning's English muffin. But it's a good kind of dingbatty -- because it's the result of being in the home stretch on my latest cookbook that celebrates my all-time favorite food group, salty crunchy things. I've been cooking up a storm testing  recipes that I've been dreaming up over these past four or five months. Crackers and chips, savory cookies and vegetables, nuts, popcorn, and even some seafoods and meats. The collection is going to cover the whole gamut from familiar to whimsical, healthy to decadent, quick & easy ...