So there I was, going 11 mph on the 80 through the East Bay (aaand then again into Fairfield) thinking “Oh lord, I’ve been so good, please let there be dumplings…”
More than I ever hoped for… Then Saturday, a warm, sunny trip to the Farmer’s Market. It’s first spring here in the Bay (and surrounding territory), the cherry trees are blooming and everything smells fresh. Except that at this particular moment it’s rainy and cold in SF, and Davis rarely smells truly fresh.
These guys will keep handing you delicious samples of different Afghani flatbreads and spreads until one of your shopping companions pulls you away from the stand.
Thoroughly addictive kettle corn. Its sweet salty scent beckons from down the block. What’s that, kettle corn? I hear you! Mama’s comin’!
Puppies (and former puppies) for adoption. So hard to resist…
At home, 8 lbs of baby back ribs from Bledsoe Pork were liberally salted and peppered, and given a generous garlic rubdown.
4 hours in the oven and a bath in an orange-cabernet vinegar glaze. Glorious.
Some very sassy arugula, tossed with gorgonzola and maple-chili glazed walnuts.
Oddly, and a little disturbingly, we happened upon some pretty decent tomatoes. I think they were from San Diego?
Penne with broccoli rabe, oyster and trumpet mushrooms.
Sunday morning, french toast.
Regrettably not pictured, because I forgot to take any pics: Sunday night, back home, pillowy soft Mi Abuelita Bonita green chili tortillas were wrapped around scrumptious black mole chicken, avocado, and crumbled queso fresco. Those tortillas appear to only be available in the Sacramento area and are the stuff of which dreams are made. Its only been a week and already I’m jonesing for my next fix…