The Eldest Child

On this day 24 years ago my husband and I entered the world of parenthood. Looking back on that day, I can only marvel that we managed to get him through his first year of life. We were so unprepared to meet even his most basic needs. Other than financial, which we were plus/minus on, we had no other skills that seemed to truely apply to the situation. We had falsely assumed that because we were both physicians that we would be able to care for an infant. But what escaped us completely is that in the hospital, nurses are the people who take care of patients. Doctors merely sail in, assess patient needs within the parameters of their disease state, and make appropriate changes. The nurses are the ones who actually manage the patients. So what we really needed was a nurse.

Instead, that baby was stuck with us. People who really didn't even know how to support his head, much less intuit what his needs were from the cues he was giving us. We really struggled those first few weeks, and while I am sure such struggles are inevitable, they are also quite memorable. So when I think of him as a newly married, very much grown up man, I cannot help but think of who he was that very first day that we met him, and feel profound relief that we managed somehow not to irreparably harm him in his first few weeks of life. Joyeux Anniversaire, mon fils!

Coconut Cake

This is an incredible cake--and made all the more incredible by the fact that even if you are not a fan of coconut, you åre going to like this cake.  I don't know what it is about it, but I have seen it happen time and time again

1 C. butter, softened
2 C. sugar
1 Tbsp. vanilla extract
4 lrg. eggs, separated
2 C. all purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
pinch of salt
1 C. buttermilk, at room temp.
1 C. shredded coconut
1/4 tsp. cream of tartar
 Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter 3 layer cake pans, I used 8" rounds and instead of flouring, I lined the bottom of the pans with parchment paper. Cream together the butter and the sugar in a large bowl, until fluffy, about 4-5 minutes using an electric mixer on medium. Add the vanilla and beat until smooth. Add the egg yokes, 1 at a time, beating for 20 seconds after each addition. Scrape down the bowl. In a bowl whisk together or sift together if you prefer the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in thirds, alternating with the buttermilk. Beat for 45 seconds after each addition and beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Scrape down the bowl. Add the coconut and beat on low speed. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites and cream of tartar until stiff peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the batter until no white streaks remain. Divide the batter evenly between the three cake pans and smooth the top of each. Bake in the middle of the oven for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Remove from the oven and cool in the pans on a wire rack for 10 minutes before turning them out of the pans onto the wire rack to completely cool.

 Frosting is as follows:
8 oz pkg cream cheese, softened
4 Tbsp. butter, softened
1 pound powdered sugar
Mix well and this makes your frosting.
1 cup of coconut to sprinkle all over the frosting. This cake is rich and extremely tasty.

Graceful Buddhist Statues

I try to avoid discussion of religion in general. Here, in this blog, as well as elsewhere. If the world has three 'major' religions, I was raised in one and live in another. So I am not religion-naive. And I am not sensitive myself, but I know that the issue of belief drives wars. So I am speaking very narrowly here. I was at the Asian Art museum in San Francisco recently and I was really struck by how full of grace the depictions of Buddha are.

I cannot relate to the peaceful ways of Buddha personally. I see the allure. The whole time I was in temples in Thailand, all I could think about that this was such a great alternative for people who are lost, who are seeking meaning in their life or a path to follow. The virtues of monastic life in a Buddhist temple are centering in a way that other paths are not for young people at loose ends. The military would be an option in my country, and nothing about military service would drive you to create a statue such as these. The whole museum is filled with similar beauty. Don't miss it.

Red Lotus Breathing Flower

This sculpture is across the street from the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco, and the idea is a simple one. The 24 foot flower has motorized fabric petals that seem to fill and empty of air so that they open and close to simulate the movement of a live lotus flower.  It may not sound like something you want to see, but you really do.  It is spectacular.  The day I was there it was just too cold and windy to really spend the kind of time watching the movement that the sculpture deserves, but bring a picnic, sit on the lawn of the museum across the street from the sculpture and spend time watching it's every movement.
 It was created by Korean artist Choi Jeong Hwa as part of an exhibit about how the past influences the present, that artists take some of the cultural sensibilities from their ancestors and update it for a contemporary audience.  I didn't love the exhibit as a whole, but this installation was a lot of fun and beautiful to watch.

Yuet Lee, San Francisco

If I have an old standby restaurant in San Francisco that is not attached to my parents then Yuet Lee is it. My parents are Dungeness Crab at Pier 39 kind of people, and I cannot go there and not think of them. My first experiences back in the Bay Area as an adult without my parents were almost exclusively centered on the East Bay, and I have many dining establishments there that resonate as standbys.

But in San Francisco, going back 20+ years I have only two--Mexican food south of Mission (I still crave chili relleno burritos that I used to eat in line waiting to get into the San Francisco Civic to see the Grateful Dead) and Yuet Lee. On my recent trip I was only there for a light lunch, but in the past I have been with groups that have ordered whole chickens and been surprised when the chicken comes to the table, all there, head to feet, choped up at regular intervals in between. It is not the chicken carving we non-Asians are used to. But the surprise is quickly overcome when we dig into the dish, because the flavor is fantastic. I love San Francisco's Chinatown, and this is an oft returned to favorite.

Burmese Tea Leaf Salad

After a leisurely stroll through the Asian Art Museum one afternoon in San Francisco, we were meandering back to our Union Square hotel, trying to avoid too many enormous San Francisco hills. Very quickly we entered Little Saigon, where it was possible to get banh mi every third storefront. Our kind of neighborhood. It is located on the edge of the Tenderloin--in other words, not an upscale neighborhood--it felt reasonably safe, at least in the late afternoon sun.

We were about to choose a Vietnamese restaurant when we happened upon the Burmese Kitchen. Burmese food is not something we have a lot of in Iowa, so we made that choice instead, and the very best thing we ate that afternoon was the tea leaf salad.  It had the perfect combination of salty, sweet, crunchy, and hot.  We were thinking about this salad for days, it was that memorable.

Upon arrival home, my spouse did a little investigating.  The short story is that we are not going to be making this at home any time soon.  Why?  Because the key ingredient is fermented pickled tea leaves, which we have appallingly limited access to, and are not likely to develop the skills to make them at home, at least not this year.

Lahpet is Burmese for fermented or pickled tea. Burma is one of very few countries where tea is eaten as well as drunk. Its pickled tea is unique in the region, and is not only regarded as the national delicacy but plays a significant role in Burmese society.  Unlike the Kline-Woodman household, most Burmese have the raw ingredients for the salad on hand in the cupboard, and since it is a raw salad, it is perfect for assembling regardless of the weather.  If you get a chance to try this salad, do not pass it up!

Parra

This is a striking mural at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art done by the Dutch graphic artist, Parra. What do I like about it? First, it is very bold, and yet playful. And very charming. The mural drew me immediately in to the floor, which had two exhibits, one on each sie of the museum. I was hoping for more of this artist's work, but no such luck. Apparently in Holland, there is a big graphic art industry built around Parra--you see T-shirts, hand bags, and posters all over the place. He is a cultural phenomenon. I would love to see a series of T-shirts done with graphics like this--the message being written out--but not quite in a straight forward manner, and accompanied by these sillouettes. It is a style I would like to see emulated.

Perbacco, San Francisco

This is the restaurant that I chose for my birthday dinner. It wasn't the fanciest, or the one with the most Michelin stars (it has one), but it was the most Italian. I had such a great food experience in Florence that I wanted to recapture some of that enjoyment.

The restaurant itself is loud and on a weeknight it was packed--we were close enough to our neighbors that you could hear them talk--which my spouse finds to be an irressistable plus, but it is not for everyone.  

So keep that in mind--if the ambiance is terribly important to you, this might not be the place for you. I can see that. For us, the food is absolutely the biggest factor, and we can be forgiving about the service and the physical plant. And the food was delicious--my only complaint is that we weren't really hungry enough to try a full array of what the menu had to offer (which is one of the few things that makes me wish I could spend more time in a city that had a dining option like this--where I could go to a restaurant more than once and really try out various options).

Here were the two highlights. The salumi plate was impressive--my spouse has startd to think about making these sorts of fermented meats (it must be something about having a basement that has a stone, and in some parts, a dirt foundation that brings one back to the idea that you could hang meat there. You certainly can't clean it up, so all that contact with subterranian nature must have a purpose). Lots of delicious options to aspire to making. But my favorite was the agnolotti--a stuffed pasta that was midway between a ravioli and a tortellini in size--and delicious. I do love handmade pasta that is stuffed and served in a hearty sauce.

San Francisco Museum of Modern Art

This is one of the original paintings in the collection of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (or SFMOMA, as it is more commonly known).  I had not been back to the museum since it moved from it's original location, on the the fourth floor of the War Memorial Veterans Building.  Not what you would call luxurious digs for a museum.  Where they are now, on Third St., just south of Market, is a gorgeous alternative to where they started. When you enter the buidling, you arein an atrium, and you can see each level of the museum--it is an inviting space to view art, and the exhibits that were there on my most recent visit were interesting and well displayed.  I know absolutely nothing about the sdesign of museums, but this one has a great openness to it. You feel like you can enter on any floor, and the way each exhibit space opens up upon entering it is quite excellent.

The traveling exhibits that we saw were both photography related. I really love photograpy--I think that will be one of the new skills that I work on as soon as I have an actually empty nest--and I love to see exhibits done by people for whom this is their art form. One exhibit was of a Dutch photographer, Rineke Dijkstra. She has done some very interesting photographic projects that chronicle modern life. She has done photoessays of Israeli soldiers, beginning before they ender military service and then at various intervals thereafter, showing how they change.

She also did a series on immigrants from the former Yugoslavia, following one girl in particular from Bosnia from the time she entered Western Europe as a 6 year old, and up through the birth of her first child. She girl changed, but also her settings changed--from the barest poverty to a middle class flat, and her eyes change some and stay the same some. It is an interesting way to view world events through the eyes--literally--of people who have lived it. The permanent collection at SFMOMA has much to be proud of as well, so a trip there will not disappoint.

Jerry Garcia Turns 70

Of course, he doesn't actually turn anything because he dies while in yet another rehabilitation center trying to control his heroin addcition, but if Garcia would be 70, then I too am getting up there.  There are plenty of examples of 1960's rock 'n roll icons who are now well past the age of traditional retirement, but they continue to ply their trade.  That is largely a good thing--for me in particular it is great because I share musical tastes with my children.  The music of my youth is not irrelevant to them, and for them, knowing what I like can guide them in pointing me in the direction of new music.  

But as I have said before, for me the Grateful Dead were not just about the music.  It was the social aspect as well.  I loved sitting in the same spot, show after show--the Phil side of the stage, as near to the first row of the first balcony as was possible when the show was general admission.  There were the people I traveled with and the people I would see at the show, and then the people I only knew at shows, people I would never see again.  The music was essential, there is no way around that.  Once Jerry was dead, it was never quite the same.  But the crowd was at least as much of the allure as the band.  It was a little bit like theater--some of the show was when the lights were off, but some of it was when the lights were on, and I loved both parts.  The players were different, but there was a predictable audience who wore remarkable clothes and expressed creativity--some of it annoying, some of it inspiring, and some of it just entertaining--but it was like no other place that I have been. 

I saw the Dead literally hundreds of times over 20 plus years.  Some people go to sporting events.  Some are into opera.  For a very long time concerts in general and the Grateful Dead in particular were my nirvana, the place I loved best.  It is funny to think about it now.  What have  I replaced it with?  What fills that spot in my life?  Now I travel without there being a concert to go to--I do my people watching in cafes and museums and on the streets, rather than between sets in a smoke-filled arena.   But I miss being able to see those people, all in one place at one time.  The arena changed, the crowd stayed the same, and I loved that place.  It was like an early precursor to a flash mob.  I am so glad I spent as much time as I did with the Grateful Dead, and I remember it ever so fondly.  RIP Jerry.