The sort to make for a weeknight dinner guest. Our longtime friend Karl is leaving Seattle by way of a ’round the world trip. Of course he’s endured his fair share of Eat, Pray, Love jokes, but he’s in a different category, I assure you. The category of working to get through grad school, getting a job helping homeless folks find housing, and now risking like crazy to leave all that. We are going to miss him, and nothing says, “Don’t forget about us!” like food. He requested puttanesca for dinner and this cake was (surprise!) concocted based on my produce drawer. (By the way, if you’re interested in a spot-on commentary on the whole Eat, Pray, Love phenomenon–i.e. “How was that trip funded?!”–click here. I love it when the author says that most of us need to have our epiphanies in the middle of everyday life. Or in the middle of sheer survival.)

For Karl, on his grand adventure. May he, with joy, be thrown into the highs and lows, the sights and smells, the loneliness and companionship that such a trip can bring. And for the rest of us, on our grand adventures. Maybe it’s making a cake for the first time. Maybe it’s saying “no” to something we’ve always wanted to refuse. Maybe it’s settling into the very UNadventurous reality of our own lives and–miracle of miracles–being content there.

Zucchini Pecan Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting
I love that this cake uses olive oil instead of vegetable oil to moisten it. Like the recipe says, don’t use extra virgin. I usually have some milder stuff around for uses like this. I love the very slightest hint of depth it gives the cake. If you don’t have a mild olive oil in your pantry, I’d sub vegetable oil before you throw in an expensive extra virgin variety. And I didn’t have a 9″ pan with 2″ sides, so used a 9″ springform instead. It worked beautifully.

Recipe

We went to Mercer Island Thrift Store, which is a secret I shouldn’t be sharing. If you are a woman who wears shoe size 8, look no further for designer boots, cast off after one season by fashion-conscious soccer moms. Love that place. We found a great $5 bike for Loretta, went on a bike ride around Mercer Slough, stopped at Overlake Blueberry Farm, and saw a coyote meandering through the blueberry bushes. If I was a coyote, I’d be hanging out there, too.

Halfway through the bike ride, our thoughts (okay–my thoughts) turned to dinner. It was agreed that we’d have grilled steak and corn, some green beans from the garden. Occasionally I buy a couple steaks from Bob’s, and there is nothing easier or more delicious. I’m always hankering to spice things up, though, and often do it with a little sauce like this. I had some beautiful peppers that we grilled up, too–I’m not sure what kind they are–anybody know? They’re fairly spicy, not as mild as ahaheims.

Spear a bite of steak with grilled pepper, drag it through vibrant green sauce, reminisce about the day. All of us in one place. Ah.

Grilled Steak with Peppers and Chimichurri Sauce
Serves 4. Chimichurri is a classic Argentinean sauce to accompany grilled meats, and I’ve been seeing it everywhere these days. This version is based on what was in my fridge, but it often includes yellow onions, other herbs, and citrus juice instead of/in addition to vinegar. Usually there’s crushed red peppers or fresh chile in it, too, but I’ve left that out here because things were spicy enough. Any leftover sauce is delicious drizzled on potatoes on burritos. If it thickens up in the fridge, just thin it with a bit of water.

2 1 lb. tri-tip steaks
coarse salt
fresh ground pepper
1 lb. fresh peppers (mild or spicy)

For sauce:
1 bunch washed and dried cilantro
1/2 bunch washed and dried Italian parsley
1 large garlic clove
big pinch of coarse salt
3 green onions, coarsely chopped
2 Tb. red wine vinegar
1/4 c. extra virgin olive oil

Sprinkle both sides of steak with salt and pepper and let sit while you make the sauce.

To make sauce, pulse cilantro, parsley, garlic, green onions, and salt in a food processor until a paste forms. Add vinegar and olive oil and pulse until a sauce forms. Add more salt to taste if you want.

Heat grill to high. Brush peppers with olive oil, and grill until blackened all over, turning a few times, about 7 minutes. Put peppers in a paper bag, close the top, and let them steam for 10 minutes to loosen the peels. Peel, seed, and coarsely chop them. (I wear disposable plastic gloves for this task if I’m working with spicy peppers. Learned my lesson the hard way.)

Now grill your steak to your liking. When it’s done, tent it with foil and let it rest for 7-10 minutes, then thinly slice it. Serve with grilled peppers and chimichurri sauce.

And I did promise the recipe. You, faithful readers, will not be surprised that it’s simply an adaptation of my Mom’s Chocolate Chip Cookies. Macrina makes a similar version, but I am going to be completely audacious and sacrilegious by saying I think these are better. Pride comes before a fall. I’m now ensuring that the next 10 things I cook will utterly flop.

Still thinking about you every second, Kathy. And about how Bud tended to gobble up whatever baked goods I made. I’ll miss that.

Apricot Espresso Chocolate Chip Cookies
Even if you’re not a huge dried fruit fan, I’m betting you’ll like the dried apricots in these. The chocolate balances out their sweetness, and they lend a wonderful chewiness. And the espresso powder (available at lots of decent grocery stores–I buy the Medaglia D’Doro brand) adds a depth that your grateful tasters might not be able to put their finger on. Super important to LET THIS DOUGH REFRIGERATE FOR AT LEAST 30 MINUTES or the cookies will flatten out too much.

1 3/4 c. flour
2 c. old fashioned oats
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. white sugar
1 ts. baking soda
pinch salt
3 tsp. instant espresso powder
2 cubes (1 cup) unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 egg and 1 egg yolk
1 ts. vanilla
1/2 bag semisweet or 60% chocolate chips (Can add more if you want.  This is how I get two batches out of one bag)
1 c. coarsely chopped dried apricots

Preheat oven to 350.  In medium bowl, combine flour, oatmeal,sugars, salt,baking soda, and espresso powder.  Add egg, egg yolk, melted butter, and vanilla, stir once or twice, then add chocolate chips and nuts and dried apricots.  Refrigerate dough for at least 30 minutes to firm it up.  Place balls of cookie dough on cookie sheets lined with parchment paper, and bake for 9-10 minutes.  Take them out while they still the tiniest bit underdone.  Once they sit for 15 minutes, they’ll be just right.

And with not much to say except that sometimes, even if everything else seems dull and gray (right, Seattleites?), the colors on our plate offer themselves as a reminder of all the riotous bounty in the world. It could have been that all fruit was khaki-colored, and all vegetables were white. Or that we take a pill every morning for the day’s nourishment.

Instead, it’s this–orange mango chunks in the bottom of a glass, a dallop of yogurt. Then jam or fruit sauce–in my case, mushy plums that I cooked down and put through a food mill. Then some crunchy granola. Now, all four layers again. Or maybe you’ve got berries, some early apples, pineapple or cantaloupe, nectarines or peaches. Anything will do. Stick your spoon in–you might be the stirring type or the keep-it-in-layers type. I’m the latter. Whatever the day holds, at least there is this bright, sweet sustenance.

We drove up to get Wyatt from camp, spend time with family, and avoid mowing our lawn. (We are horrible with home maintenance. Have I mentioned this yet? If we’re not working, we’d always rather eat, cook, play, and socialize.) A few highlights:

Lebanese coffee at Mediterranean Specialities. My Mom knows every proprietor in town, and this was no exception. We went in to get za’atar and came out an hour and a half later. After standing and talking with the three sisters/owners for several minutes, they said, “Why don’t we sit down for coffee?” A platter of baklava appeared, too. Seattleites are very good at having long conversations on the sidewalk, but we’re bad at committing, settling in with each other.

Eye-popping bounty at Joe’s Garden. Joe’s Garden is a locally-owned truck farm right in the middle of town that’s been operating since 1933. I grew up going there, and it might even be reason enough to leave all the Asian markets in my neighborhood and move up north. For $20, I got a quart of late strawberries (the best I’ve had this year), several tender golden zucchini, rainbow chard, 3 kohlrabi bulbs, a giant bunch of celery, the most beautiful broccoli, a pound of nectarines, early apples, and some things I’m forgetting. The produce was at its peak, the staff is knowledgeable, friendly, and without snobbery, and it just might rival late nights in the Mustang. Almost.

The Western Washington Fair in Lynden. This was Loretta’s “week-without-brother” treat. She went on the ferris wheel and dizzying teacups, ate a corn dog and mini-donuts, and every inch of that place looks like it did when I went there with my friends in middle school. I like country fairs as much as I used to and marveled at little Loretta, insisting on going solo on some rides. She’s a piece of work.

Picking dirt-encrusted Wyatt up from Fir Creek Day Camp. Another torrent of nostalgia. I went to Fircreek when I was growing up. It was amazing to see him make friends, take risks, and love it as much as I did. How did we get out of that Mustang and into a minivan?! Crazy.

First, Wyatt and I are separated for five days. He’s staying with my parents and going to camp. He’s having the time of his life, calling every night with reports of going pedal-boating, eating ring pops from the camp candy store, and being spoiled by his grandparents. I opened my Mom’s fridge to find a cup of blackberries with this note sticking out the top. I’ve never been away from him this long, and it’s made harder by the fact that I’m especially infatuated with him right now.  I miss his helpfulness, his little routines around the house, standing over his bed and watching him sleep. This is ridiculous. He’ll be home Friday night.

And my dear friend and colleague Bud passed away on Sunday night. I can’t really get my head around it yet. My heart aches for his wife and my friend Kathy, for all of us that loved and knew him. I’m so grateful for his life, for the love and generosity he showed to me, and that his community will be together soon to celebrate him.

Bud’s death has made these last few days seem especially poignant and fragile. I haven’t wanted to let Loretta out of my sight, and dragged myself to my meetings today. What is this life, if not precious? We are all born to die, but I manage to skirt that reality quite a bit most the time. Right before I got the dark news, Loretta asked, “Mom, how do persons die?” And tonight she said, “Well, that’s okay if you and me die. We just won’t have bodies anymore.” But right now, we have these bodies, and the only thing to do with them is love. I plan to do it more fiercely than ever.

Postscript: Here’s a salad I’ve made twice this week. Once for Jordan’s homecoming picnic, and today to drop off for Kathy. Comings and goings, firsts and lasts. Chalk another one up for the comfort of the kitchen. At the very least, it’s something to do with our hands when nothing else makes sense.

Rice and Bean Salad
This salad is great to take to potlucks or to grieving households. It’s vegan (though you could add some crumbled feta or queso fresco), gluten-free, and quite sturdy. It can sit in the fridge and be picked at for lunch or dinner, or can be piled on top of greens with some grilled chicken for a main dish. Or you could deliver it with some torillas, shredded romaine, and chipotle crema to make roll-ups. It might not garner a bunch of oohs and ahs at first glance, but the garlicky cumin dressing will hook people. This makes a very large bowlful. Halve it if your life is slightly less full of potlucks than mine has been.

2 1/2 c. brown basmati rice
2 15 oz. cans black beans
4 small zucchini
2 c. fresh corn kernels or Trader Joe’s roasted corn, (sold frozen)
couple big handfuls chopped Italian parsley or cilantro
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 yellow bell pepper, diced
1 orange bell pepper, diced
1/4 c. raw pumpkin sides for garnish

For dressing:
1 Tb. coarse salt
2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ancho chile powder
Fresh ground pepper
Juice of two limes
2/3 c. extra virgin olive oil

Cook your rice. I do mine in a rice cooker, then let the whole batch cool in the fridge overnight, breaking up clumps when I dump it into the bowl. However you do it (lots and lots of water on the stove would be another way), your grains should emerge separate, not all stuck together, and you’ll want the rice down to cool down a bit before proceeding.

Grill the zucchini (I used my grill pan). Cut each zucchini in half crosswise, then cut each half lengthwise into four 1/4″ flat strips. Toss the strips with a bit of olive oil and salt, and grill for about 2 minutes/side. Cool a bit, then dice.

If you’re not using Trader Joe’s amazing frozen roasted corn kernels (my new favorite thing), you can just use raw corn if it’s really sweet and fresh. If it doesn’t fit that description, toast it in a skillet with a tiny bit of olive oil and salt for a few minutes just to take the raw edge off.

Gently toss rice, zucchini, corn, and all other ingredients together.

To make dressing, combine first four ingredients, then whisk olive in to emulsify. Gently toss salad with dressing, and top salad with pumpkin seeds.

Though they’re more common than they used to be, raw beets are another unexpected tidbit. I love them roasted as much as the next person, but Seattle is experiencing a rare 95 degree weekend. No roasting around here. I also happen to have a mandoline, which shaves things paper-thin. I got it at a thrift store years ago, and it seems indispensable in the summer. Jenn and I were at the farmer’s market last week and we both bought bunches of chioggia beets. They are stunningly gorgeous. Whenever I find them, it’s impossible to resist their sprirograph trance. I advised Jenn to try them raw. She emailed me late at night, asking if there were any ailments that resulted from consuming too many beets. They are that good.

Shaved Beet and Fennel Salad
Serves two as a side dish. Wash two chioggia beets and peel them with a vegetable peeler. Wash one large or two small fennel bulbs. Using a mandolin, a very sharp knife, or a (thin!) slicing blade on a food processor, slice the beets and fennel bulb as thinly as you can. Put them in a medium bowl. Very finely chop a Thai chile or serrano chile and add it to the bowl. Sprinkle a generous amount of coarse salt over salad, squeeze half a lemon, and pour a glug of good olive oil. Gently mix with your hands. Using a vegetable peeler, shave some parmesan over the top.

I’ve been doing lots of reading on nutrition and health lately, so I’m fully aware that this won’t make the cut on any of those lists. But here’s the thing–I’m not tempted by baked goods lying around the house. I have a small piece for breakfast and find ways to give most of it away. (Guacamole is another story.) If you’re in the can’t-leave-it-alone camp, my advice is not to make this. It’s a temptingly tender cake, piled high with thick streusel, and the very definition of comfort food. My mom (and probably your mom, too) had a similar version of sour cream coffee cake. I remember she’d make it for special occasion brunches or if we had overnight guests. Honestly, this whole summer has felt like a special occasion around here. I’ve been having so much fun with my kids, discovering new things about them and yes, cooking for them. Wyatt looked at me adoringly after his first bite of this. Who can resist that?

Breakfast Crumb Cake
This is lifted exactly from Bon Appetit. If you wanted to mix it up a little, I think some very thinly sliced pear and a little cardamom would be delicious in it.

Topping:
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/2 c. sugar
1 1/2 Tb. cinnamon
1/2 ts. salt
1 c. unsalted butter, melted, warm
2 1/2 c. all purpose flour

Cake:
2 1/2 c. all purpose flour
1 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 c. (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temp
1 1/2 c. sugar
2 large eggs
1 1/3 c. sour cream
1 tsp. vanilla

For topping:
Mix both sugars, cinnamon, and salt in medium bowl and whisk to blend. Add warm melted butter and stir to blend. Add flour and toss with fork until moist clumps form (topping mixture will look slightly wet). Set aside.

For cake:
Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F. Butter 13 x 9 x 2-inch glass baking dish. Sift flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat room-temperature butter in large bowl until smooth. Add sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating until well blended after each addition. Add sour cream and vanilla extract and beat just until blended. Add flour mixture in 3 additions, beating just until incorporated after each addition. Transfer cake batter to prepared baking dish; spread batter evenly with rubber spatula or offset spatula. Squeeze small handfuls of topping together to form small clumps. Drop topping clumps evenly over cake batter, covering completely (topping will be thick).

Bake cake until tester inserted into center comes out clean and topping is deep golden brown and slightly crisp, about 1 hour. Cool cake in dish on rack at least 30 minutes. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 day ahead. Cool completely. Cover and let stand at room temperature.

Cut cake into squares and serve slightly warm or at room temperature.

YUM.

I was actually a little sick this morning from eating so many of these last night. They were the main course, accompanied by fried bread, goat cheese, a bowl of grapes, and an incredible salad I’ll post about soon. Yancey sat across from me (love Saturday nights when we’re all home), reaching for more tomatoes and saying repeatedly, “This is what I’m talkin’ about.”

I like them best with bread and cheese, but there are countless uses. I threw leftovers into a barley salad, and they’re delicious tossed with pasta and cream. You’ll be talking, too.

Candied Tomatoes
I’m misleading you a little bit here–these are really just oven-roasted tomatoes with a bit of sugar, but they taste like candy to me. Preheat oven to 250. Take about 2 pounds of roma or campari tomatoes and cut them in half. Lay them out on a jelly roll pan, cut side facing up. Drizzle a good amount of your best olive oil over them–about 1/3 c. Sprinkle a couple teaspoons of coarse salt, a generous grind of black pepper, and 1 Tb. sugar. Roast in the oven for about 5 hours, until they are shriveling up but still oily and juicy. Remove and let cool. You can remove them earlier or later–the consistency will change accordingly, but they’ll be delectable no matter what.

Wyatt was clearly in the wonderland of his wildest dreams. He was wet from swimming the entire time, made a raft out of a log, jumped off the rope swing countless times, and even enjoyed a few cold cans of soda. Boating yesterday morning, Yancey told Wyatt he could drive the boat next year. Remember that feeling? That feeling of, “When I’m old enough, I get to ________?” That feeling of waiting for a magical date to arrive or waiting to grow taller, be able to read or drive, get ears pierced or go on a first date.

Then it hit me, in a way it never has before, that there is nothing left to wait for. Now, anything I want to happen in my life requires my own initiative, energy, and resources. I’m not into The Secret, this idea that good happens just because we will it to. There’s poverty, racism, disease, war, abuse, discrimination of all sorts that prevents people from having abundant lives. People don’t just imagine themselves out of centuries of entrenched, institutionalized unfairness. BUT, the things I dream about achieving, giving, and experiencing in my lifetime–this is the time. The magic day won’t ever arrive. These things aren’t associated with birthdays, doctor visits, or even credentials anymore. It’s a matter of my my own engagement, of living rightly in the world, taking risks, and being diligent.

I know there are aisles full of self-help books on this subject–I am certainly not the first to realize this. But I don’t think I really got it until this weekend, sitting behind Wyatt in the boat and watching him look up at the mountain peaks that engulf the lake. This is it, folks. Or, as dear Mary Oliver says,

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?