I didn’t make the food in this picture… And it doesn’t even contain chocolate…. But it symbolizes an important part of BonBonBar’s development… not to mention ritual, and I think that it qualifies as part of my work.

As I never fail to mention, the business keeps me either busy or tired almost all week long. During the weekends especially, which are filled with sprints of production, and Mondays, when I package, I barely have time to eat, so after I go to the post office and UPS as late possible in order to protect the packages from heat for as long as possible, I’m usually very hungry and tired.

I usually go to California Chicken Cafe (CCC; which is mercifully near UPS) to get a Low-Cal Chicken Caesar Salad to take home, eat, and then digest while taking an evening nap. I happen to like that salad a lot, and in a good way, it always reminds me of the weekend that I got overwhelmed preparing orders for Valentine’s Day.

I was extremely tired and hungry after that difficult weekend, and I went to Urth Caffe for a green salad with grilled chicken. As I sat there, alone at a sidewalk table, I remember feeling hyper-aware — in a comatose-sort-of-a-way — of every sensation that I experienced… the feeling of the most wonderful fresh air against my face… the initially-cold metal chair that was in contact with as much of my back and legs as I could manage in order to support them… the lacing sunshine and shadows covering the tables and sidewalk… the varied voices of the patrons around me, discussing business and pleasure… and most of all, the way that the lettuce in the salad snapped, so refreshingly and satisfyingly. I found myself eating the pieces of lettuce one by one, savoring the cool crunch of each bite. A bite with chicken meant a little chewiness, a new flavor, a welcome occasional addition.

I knew I must have been quite a sight — tired, probably disheveled, and marveling at each bite with a stupefied smile — but I didn’t care — and don’t care how weird it may seem to write about it now — I can still feel that sense of relief and goodness that I knew that early February evening, eating that salad.

Salad can easily get short shrift. Some people see it as the go-to healthy option, but it’s often not — because it’s often drenched with dressing. But if dressed lightly or not at all, it really is a way to savor fresh ingredients; or if you like a ton of dressing, like I sometimes do, that’s great, but not healthy. I think of Suzanne Goin as the master of salads. In her cookbook, you can see how salads become a way to combine fresh, individual ingredients so that they can be appreciated for their flavor, texture, and color individually and in combination with each other. Part of her genius method is to arrange salads on plates, instead of bowls. I think it makes a huge difference. A bowl of food is something like an inverted pile… and I tend to plow through those without much thought (they are, in fact, my own staple, fast meals). But a salad of fresh ingredients laid out on a plate — again, not as a pile — has a striking poetry to it. You can’t help but taste it.

The beauty of the CCC Low-Cal Chicken Caesar Salad is that it has squares of toasted pita in addition to the lettuce and chicken. The dry crunch of the delicate pita, the bursting wet crunch of the lettuce, the cushion of chicken, the “sauce” of dressing… really, it’s quite luxurious. I always thought that cubes of croutons were too harsh to put in a salad, so the thin pieces of toasted pita are just brilliant to me. Oh, and the low-cal caesar dressing is salty… wonderfully salty. Others have railed against the mediocrity of the chicken caesar salad, but when done right like this, I love it — with layers of so many textures and flavors.

Anyway, since that V-Day weekend, I usually have a half-size Low-Cal Chicken Caesar Salad as my meal on Monday, and I’ve also made it a point to try something new — a pastry or variety of fruit, usually — every week as a way to be inspired. I haven’t really taken pictures or blogged about it, but it’s something that I take seriously. A year ago, I would have thought that only one inspiration a week is… well… weak… but when you’re busy, it’s just enough to avoid overload — and non-blog-posting guilt.

So… this week, I got a bad CCC salad — overdressed with NON-low-cal dressing (ie, regular Caesar dressing). Despite some popular sentiment, I don’t think that fat equals flavor. It can maintain heat and carry some flavoring, but often, I think it mutes flavor… and makes me feel greasy besides. Plus, the dressing wasn’t as salty as I liked. It was just a bland, limp, fatty salad.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt that my weekly inspiration shouldn’t just be a pastry, it should be a meal. So, I drove out to Square One Dining… and had just the most perfect experience ever. I was tired and wasn’t planning on taking a picture, but after I took a bite of the grits with cheddar and bacon — and experienced the slight pop of the cheese-inflected grits surrounding a piece of perfectly crunchy, smoky bacon — I just had to capture the memory.

And then there was the French Toast with Butter and Maple Syrup. Amazing… the airy brioche, with a curiously light and flavorful eggy batter as a coating. Again, I was in my signature hyper-aware-yet-slightly-comatose state, and I tried to figure out how they did it without asking (though the staff was super-friendly; I just felt like solving a puzzle, and as a backup, had a vague memory that someone asked for the recipe in the LATimes).

And you know how I’m not a big fan of sweet, eggy dishes… but this french toast didn’t taste like eggs… It tasted like heaven; it didn’t at all need maple syrup or butter, except as occasional novelty. I saw little black flecks, and deduced that maybe they infused the cream/milk for the french toast with vanilla beans before adding the eggs to the batter. The result was a combination that was a balance of eggs and vanilla that produced almost a new flavor — not quite one or the other. And incidently, they use local/organic whenever they can, and they use same eggs that I do for my pecan nougat — Mike & Sons.

When I got home, I found that the LATimes had indeed posted the recipe… and that the eggy batter was actually a creme anglaise! In culinary school, we were taught that eggs shouldn’t be cooked twice, so I’m a bit impressed at how Square One so flagrantly QUADRUPLE cooks its eggs in this dish — technically, the eggs in the anglaise are cooked twice and the eggs in the brioche are cooked twice.

It was also the first time that I’ve asked to take home leftovers from a breakfast-based meal, because I couldn’t imagine letting it go to waste. I thought that the leftovers would pale in comparison to the fresh version, but amazingly, they were delicious — cold, and then heated for under a minute in the microwave. Quintuple-cooked eggs… yum…(!)

And what does this have to do with candy bars and marshmallows? Well, I should mention — I’ve come a long way since that V-Day weekend, three months ago. I’ve sent out orders much larger than that weekend, still all by myself, with much greater ease, but I still feel humbled — and in a way, appreciative — of that experience… Even though now, frankly, I’m feeling a little fierce, or at the very least, more able. The new summer-related challenge is to make sure that they don’t melt after they leave me, but with fingers crossed, I’m feeling up to it.

And the inspiration of new food is so important. I taste my confections constantly because the process of making them has so many variables, but I’m always aiming for each to taste like one thing… and that can be a little confining, no matter how delicious. There are so many flavors and textures — that is, products — that I still want to explore and make. Consistent inspiration and quality is vital to me… and my company.

And Tommy, if you’ve read this far, I’ve finally thought of my Six Word Memoir:

She Tried To Do Things Right.

(with full awareness that “right” is subjective… after all, I’m not tagging anyone with this, b/c I just tend not to :))

As I walked towards the Market Gourmet in Venice on Friday to hand out samples of my BonBonBar products for the first time in a store, I worried about my karma. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought a new product after being given a sample by a company’s rep in a store. Granted, I haven’t come across those types of samples much recently in stores and I buy very little prepared foods, but still… If I used myself as a barometer, the forecast was bleak… I inwardly copped to buying mostly out of habit, taking samples and running, and/or averting my eyes… and was willing to forgive anyone who did the same.

When I got into the store, I saw that only a few candy bars out of the 36 that I’d delivered on Monday had sold, and the marshmallows were still well-stocked, too. I’ve learned that introducing a new product with a relatively short shelf, small size, and high price in a store is tricky — how can you make it stand out from ALL the other products? how can you make it sell? how can people know that it’s good and worth it when they’ve never heard of it before? Customers whose eyes skim along the shelves — often in search of something that they know they want — don’t know about my products or me or my blog or website. Talking and tasting is really key in introducing new products.

Now when I go shopping in stores, I consider the hope behind each and every product sitting on the shelves… Behind each of them is a team of people — large or small — that hopes that all of the hard work of design, production, salesmanship, shipping, and so much more will have been worth it and you will want to pick it up, carry it to the register, take out your wallet, and give money in order to own their product.

I also wonder if the products are part of an order that came in months ago or that week — not out of spoilage concerns, but as a measure of how well it sells.

So, I set up a couple cutting boards with my candy bars and marshmallows on a table near the store’s chocolate display, and across from the side of the register. There were samples of the store’s guacamole, pico de gallo, and chips on the table next to mine. The first few customers had eyes only for the chips and dip, which admittedly, were excellent, but this unexpected competition was a little awkward. Sure, my confections could be the “dessert samples” of the table, but most people took a sample and walked away, or if they lingered, I had to time my own “Would you like to sample some candy bars and marshmallows?” in a perky yet unassuming tone just as they seemed to finish chewing.

But then things looked up. Customers came along who wanted my samples. I found that asking “Would you like to try some candy bars and marshmallows?” got a generally positive response, but adding “I make them myself” got an overwhelmingly positive response. People lit up immediately.

And from what I could tell, people generally loved them. And that’s when it’s really fun. That’s when you’re in it together with people — not as seller and customers — but as fellow appreciators, casually conversing. I’ve been very lucky with my products — people often get very excited about them and want to savor them and tell others about them. It reminds me of when I started this blog to tell others about culinary school and the good food that I was sampling, and it completely amazes me that now people are talking and thinking about my own candy bars and marshmallows in the same way.

One office nearby was especially abuzz about the lady giving out samples at the store — you can read Angie’s post about her take on the bars and marshmallows here (written the very same day! and be sure to check out her hair clips and artwork, too). Also, two different people left the store and returned with others to have them try samples.

When I left, my shelf space was proudly barer. And incidentally, when I delivered more bars two days ago, a customer called to have 8 of them put aside for her to pick up this week.

Of course, I’m happy that they sold, but I’m really happy about giving people food that I consider to be good and seeing them enjoy it. I just loved being in the store — I didn’t want the demo to end and I’m looking forward to going back.

And I really didn’t mind if someone sampled them and didn’t buy it, or didn’t want to try a sample, or didn’t like them (I was happy to give as many diff’t samples as people wanted, b/c it’s rare to love a company’s whole product line). It’s awkward for a second, but I know that everyone has their own palate… and they’re new products…. and they’re expensive (honestly, I was afraid that people who sampled and immediately took one, all happy and excited, would return it once they looked at the price on the bottom, but no one did). Maybe they’ll come back and buy another time, or tell someone about it, or fondly remember one nice bite… or not at all. I know what it’s like to sample food in stores, munching and walking away, sometimes remembering and sometimes forgetting about the product.

I did some eye-averting of my own, though. It didn’t seem right to stare and smile at people as they ate the samples. It’s awkward, and I think it affects how they taste. I want them to taste it fully before reacting, and I don’t want to rush that. I’m actually a little wary of people who immediately start praising them once it hits their tongue — how could they process all the flavors so quickly? Maybe the marshmallows can hold up to that — their flavors are quite up front — but chocolates work more on a time-release of taste principle, I think.

And my sales-speak usually focuses on the origin of the ingredients and a bit about technique. I need to focus more on what interests each individual person. I don’t want to chatter away, but I do want to talk about what matters to them.

And the most dangerous part of doing a demo? Having hours to discover new products myself in the store that looked so good. I got a buttermilk blue cheese from Wisconsin that was amazing on whole wheat bread.

As I drove up to Bouchon Bakery in Yountville on the Thursday morning that I was in Napa, it occurred to me that I’ve been going there for two years now, which means that I’ve been following their cheese danish for the past two years, as well. Yes. Two (2!) years on the Bouchon Bakery cheese danish trail…

The first time I wrote about it on January 19, 2006, I was in love with the rich, muscular dough and bright, tangy flavor.

The second time on March 12 of 2006, the love continued, this time with Chad’s enthusiastic approval and comparison of it to a cloud… A dreamy cloud (ok, I added the “dreamy”).

The third time, in January 2007, (in the “edit”), I was incredibly saddened by a bland flavor and superfluous coarse sugar crystals. My perfect cheese danish was… gone.

But this time, I fell in love all over again.

The pastry has changed, in fantastic and even surprising ways. First of all, it’s a little smaller, a little rounder… Compact and elegant. The slightly lemony cream cheese filling is piped on top, and there’s a kind of almond filling in the middle (perhaps ground almonds mixed with the cheese fillings?) I normally think that nuts can overwhelm a pastry, and make it heavier, but this works. There’s more dimension to this danish than every before…. AND it’s a cloud again. So light. The dough was not as muscular as before and I was ok with that — it was the definition of a perfectly airy laminated dough, just slightly softened by eggs (which separates the danish from the croissant)

Looking back at my pictures, it looks like there’s less powdered sugar on top, which might be another reason why it’s so strong and true now… I generally dislike powdered sugar because it hurts my teeth upon initial contact and leaves a funky aftertaste in my mouth and a trail of dust on my clothes. Without much of it in the way, the flavor is dead on. There are visible grains of coarse sugar on top, but oddly, I didn’t feel their texture.

I have to admit — I usually don’t finish pastries, and almost never in one sitting. But this danish was gone in no time… and even made me come back from Sonoma county a few hours later so that I could get two more — one for a friend to try and one for the road back to LA.

I think that this could be made at home, and if you’ve ever considered making a laminated dough (croissant/puff pastry/danish), I urge you to try it. It’s fun and just challenging enough, and the results are amazing. Seriously, I wouldn’t go on and on about a cheese danish if it wasn’t – fresh, hand-crafted danish garnished just how you like is nothing like the sad swirls of sugared, greasy dough that danishes often exist as today. A great thing, too, is that you can make the dough and freeze it so that you can bake off just as many as you want fresh at a time.

So, last weekend, Chad and I journeyed up to Napa for a wedding… and well, to eat.

First, we rushed off from the Oakland airport to have lunch at Canteen in SF. We paid $3 worth in quarters for the privilege of an hour’s parking, only to arrive at 2:02pm… and be told that they were closed. We’d once had a wonderful lunch there, watching the chef and his assistant cook from our perch at the counter. I remember that teasingly moist skate sandwich well, and still do… b/c my memory remains unclouded by any new dishes there. Sure, I could have mentioned that we’d just flown up from LA, loved the restaurant, and were dying to eat there again (along with their rmg guests)… but the stove was empty and I felt like it was right to accept that their shift was over. I hope someone used up the 53 rmg minutes on the meter, so that I can stop regretting my wasted laundry quarters.

In any case… to Tartine! Where parking was free and there was practically no line at 2:30 in the afternoon!

Their Croque Monsieur is one of the better consolations you could come across. They’re displayed unassumingly on the counter, but once their heated up and cut into…

…they’re beacons of comfort and deliciousness. The secret is in the bechamel sauce, which soaks into the bread to provide a silky canvas upon which the Niman ranch ham, gruyere cheese, thyme, and pepper play. The bread is also just soft enough, even though it looks like it’d be hard to cut into.

Unfortunately, Chad’s Ham and Gruyere Sandwich was rather soaked through with mustard, and he only felt fortunate that the nasal passages behind his nose hadn’t caught fire by the end of the sandwich.

And my pickled carrot was shockingly spicy… which I liked.

The chocolate eclair was also a little funky. The pastry cream was very runny and the glaze very thick. I made a mess of myself trying to eat it, and turning it upside-down helped only until the pastry cream started spurting out the sides. The glaze was also a little too harsh with cocoa flavor for the rest of the eclair.

We also had the Lemon Meringue Cake again, but the chiffon cake was too dry for it to do its magic.

And then to Emeryville, to catch up with the good people at Charles Chocolates, where I worked with the chocolatiers during the holiday season. They now have a retail store which has a seating area that overlooks the chocolatiers at work, and where tours are given.

I was lucky enough to be lavished with the peanut butterflies and lemon-pistachio clusters that I once daily rationed to myself… 12+ hr days were never so much fun before. I also got a jar of their newly offered Meyer Lemon Marmalade. It’s made with just organic meyer lemons and sugar — no commercial pectin, so it has a slightly more delicate set and the lemon flavor is bright and delicious. It’s nice on bread… or just on a spoon, if you’re me.

By the time we got to Napa later that night, I was too excited to laze into the hotel room, so Chad and I went to have dessert at Redd, where Nicole Plue is the pastry chef (formerly of Julia’s Kitchen). We shared Sweet Corn Fritters with Cherries and Vanilla Bean Ice Cream. I loved how creamy the fritters were inside, and everything was good on its own but I wasn’t totally in love with everything on the plate together — even though the subtle yet brilliant apricot sauce did its best to tie it together. I do like corn as a dessert, but I think it’s hard to match its flavor and intensity with other components. I also really liked the corn pop-like puffed corn kernels. I wonder if they do that themselves… and how.

It was cool to have microgreens on a dessert dish, and actually, they probably fit in best with the corn according to my taste buds. And the texture of the leaves was something novel and nice in a dessert. When we inquired, we were told that they were baby cilantro, which was interesting b/c they neither looked nor tasted like mature cilantro.

The next day, we set out on an exploratory mission to Wild Flour Bread, committed to basking in the scenery, turning onto mysterious roads, and otherwise finding pleasure in getting lost.

We happened upon the historical Kenwood Depot this way.

A walk around back brought me under a canopy of what I thought were possibly long-lingering apricots, blushing orange in the sun.

So, when I reached out to touch them, I was surprised by their smooth texture… and the fact that they were plums. I’m not sure which variety. Rather small and yellow, with a smooth honeyed taste, a bit like greengages. If anyone cares to guess what they were, please let me know.

There were also thorny blackberry bushes rambling here and there around the tree and fence. If only we’d also come across some puff pastry and an oven, I think we would have had the galettes of our lives.

As a city dweller, even this little bit of wild fruit chase was enough to give a glow to the morning. Even when I lived in Napa, I realized that for all the lush landscape, it’s hard to feel truly outdoorsy without some effort. Driving through it or walking past it on the way inside a winery is far more common, unfortunately, if you live in an apartment.

Once we made it to Wild Flour Bread, we got three loaves for our lunch. All were still hot from the oven, including this gloriously chunk-laden fougasse. We also got a goat flat and the egyptian, with a cinnamon bun-like form flavored with fig, ginger, and pear. All wonderful.

And this was the first time that we wandered into the beautiful garden behind the bakery, and next to the pile of wood used in the oven. It’s full of vegetables, berries, and flowers… and just enough wildness.

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Our little traipse in the garden must have given us time to digest, b/c we went to Patisserie Angelica in Sebastopol for dessert. On the left was the cleverly-designed Peanut Envy, with peanut butter, caramel and nuts in a cylinder of chocolate, and on the right was the key lime tart. Both were flavorful and fresh, and miraculously, completely consumed.

I went home to the New Jersey to surprise my Mom for her birthday last week, and in between wiffle ball games with my brothers, I scavenged for food in the area, including a brief trip to New York. So, here are the food highlights… and then some.

At Momofuku in NYC, the Fried Green Tomatoes with Anchovies, Chervil, and Kimchi was one of the most boldly delicious plates of food that I’ve had in a long time. The perfect bite involved the cold and spicy kimchi hitting your tongue first, followed closely by a piping hot wedge of green tomato that crunches open to let loose its almost molten interior, and then finished with the sharp salty tang of the slightly chewy anchovies and chervil. It reminds you how much flavor food can have. Even though most dishes contain elements of crunch/chew/salt/hot/cold, this was one of the few that made it seem special, like an elaborate balancing act. And now I much prefer the wedges of fried green tomatoes to slices; there’s more room for flavor and texture that way.

Unfortunately, my Momofuku Ramen, which ironically came out in better focus than the FGT’s, was insipid at best. Everything in it seemed over-cooked and tired. During last year’s visit, my bowl had been perfect, bordering on transcendental.

And I got to sit at the counter directly in front of the cooks, which was great entertainment.

The caramel ice cream sandwich from ‘Wichcraft in Bryant Park was boring and very sweet… though there was a ballerina for entertainment.

I went to Columbus Circle to get something from Bouchon Bakery at 5pm on Sunday, but the prices stood out more than the small variety of food remaining ($4.75 for a donut, $3.75 for a linzer cookie??). I didn’t get anything.

I was amused that Per Se had ratatouille on the menu, echoing Thomas Keller’s involvement in the Pixar movie.

Back in NJ, Umberto Pizzeria in Fair Haven is my pizza of choice. It’s a mom & pop pizza shop with a Sicilian pizza that has a gooey top, pillowy middle, and crunchy bottom. They don’t deliver, but we’ve been taking it out for years. Their NY-style is also quite nice.

The Steak au Poivre at Avenue in Long Branch was velvety and juicy, and satisfied my steak craving.

The restaurant is on the water above the beach that now has palm trees (!).

I also wandered into my parents’ garden and yard, in search of any and all things edible among the beguiling greenery and flowers.

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I was delighted to discover that the cherry tree that I used to be only vaguely aware of is actually a sour cherry tree.

My parents had already picked most of them for liqueurs, but I had plans to make a pie, or compote if need be, the next day with the rmg few… but they disappeared overnight! Either by the birds or spoilage, I guess.

At least this one will be forever in mid-bite…

Then there were the black raspberries…

And the wild black raspberries. The immediate gratification of impromptu berry-picking is one of the greatest pleasures I know of.

There were blueberries in the making.

And apples.

And pears.

And there are always more flowers…

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