Fava bean puree with homemade pita chips

One evening last week I was in the mood for a pre-dinner snack. As you may recall, one of my favorite things to whip up on such occasions is white bean puree with pita chips. For a few months or maybe years, I made this little nosh quite a bit.

I think I went overboard on it, though, because recently I haven't really felt like making or eating it. Sometimes when I look at the cans of cannellini beans in the pantry I can't help but grimace. And when I've mentioned it to the husband, he's made a face, too. Guess I made it one time too many. What can I say? I have a semi-obsessive personality.

Happily, there are other dips to be had. And isn't it fun to take something seasonal and make it the star? Something like fava beans.

You know the method. Take the fava beans out of their cute caterpillar-like pods, and for as long as you can stand it, remove the thin coverings on each one. I tried to find pleasure in this simple (if mind-numbing) task, but after awhile,  I chucked the remainder of the unshelled beans into the food processor. They were awfully tiny and who would know the difference? I'm obsessive but lazy, a  combination I'd like to channel into a wildly lucrative career someday.

The second frustrating thing about fava beans is that you buy a pound of them but by the time you're done shelling, you only have about 1/2 a cup. They didn't even form a single layer over the bottom of the food processor. So after a moment's hesitation, I opened a can of cannellini beans along with salt, pepper, lemon juice, olive oil, a small garlic clove, and a big handful of basil.

It looked very pretty, if a little like guacamole.

The pita chips turned out crispy, golden, and dusted in sea salt.

When all was said and done, though, this puree, although more than edible, would have been better without the cannellini beans. I felt their canniness took away from the freshness of the favas, which is the root of their appeal--they taste like a new spring garden.

I've done a pure fava bean puree before, in more disciplined days when somehow I gathered the patience to shell what must have been two to three pounds of the little suckers. Those days are over, though, or at least on hold. But I do have fond memories of that puree, which always turned out brighter in taste and greener in color. I often used mint, a better match than basil. My recent combination ended up tasting vaguely like pesto, which wasn't what I was going for. I do think it would be good on a sandwich, however.

Oh well. Sometimes it's enough for a snack to be functional--something to hold you over until dinner is ready. It need not meet every culinary expectation. When it does, great. But I can live with mediocrity from time to time.

Sometimes it's ok to be a quitter

Well, good news, folks: yesterday, I quit my job.

I'm serious, it is good news--you see, I have a plan. Without getting into details, the place I've been working for the last two years is a disaster. On the one hand, it's sad, because I care about the mission of the place. On the other hand, every woman for herself. So, over the last few months, I've been building up a little side business. And now, I'm ready to break free and make it my full-time work.

It's doing the same thing that I've been doing for 10 years, but now I'll be doing it on my own. I am my own boss! This idea is incredible to me. The idea that I answer to no one except my clients sends ripples of excitement up my spine.

Of course, some of those ripples are fear. What if I can't make this work? What if my current buzz of business fades away and no one wants to hire me anymore? These concerns have kept me up a bit these last few nights.

But in the mornings, things have seemed clear. Something about that broad sweeping sunlight you get this time of year makes you feel like the world is embracing you. And somehow, I mustered the courage to take the leap. Kind of a big deal for a play-it-safe hungry dog like me.

Thanks to the husband, my mom, my sister, and the good friends I'm so lucky to have, all of whom have been so supportive about my new venture. And thanks to all of you who have encouraged me! It's a great thing to be buoyed by people you have never met, who truly seem to want the best for you. No, not just great: amazing.

I should wrap this around to talk about food, right? Here's a pasta I made the other night amidst all this change. It's tagliatelle with smashed peas, ricotta, basil, and sausage. It's bright, creamy, and delicious. It will make your mouth happy and your stomach purr. Make it. (Note: I used sweet instead of hot sausage: your choice.)

Happy weekend to you all!

Fried chicken and cole slaw, Derby-style

The husband's cousin, John, who also is from Kentucky and has lived out here forever, throws a Kentucky Derby party every year. When John and his wife lived in the city, the party would take over the multi-unit building they lived in in the Mission, with hundreds of revelers congregating on the back staircases and in the garden below. Televisions were set up throughout the flats so everyone could watch the race. Bluegrass bands played all day and into the evening and bartenders were hired for the sole purpose of muddling mint juleps. There was grilling on the front sidewalk, elaborate betting schemes, an auction, and even a hat box from which you could borrow if you arrived unadorned.

The food at the Derby party is always potluck, and in the past we've been a little lazy, showing up with beer and stuff to grill. But this time around, the husband got it in his mind that he wanted to bring fried chicken (oven-fried, to save on the mess) and cole slaw. He scoped out recipes and decided on this one and this one, but with some additions. He spiced up the chicken with some cajun seasoning; to the cole slaw, he added sliced almonds and dried cranberries.

Here's the chicken. Doesn't it look crunchy and delicious?

And the colorful, confetti-like slaw:

When the food was packed up and ready to go, I put on a dress and cowboy boots, the husband donned his driving cap, and we headed out. This year was a little different than others, because John and his wife now live in Marin. While this party was scaled down by past standards, there were still probably at least 80 people there.

There was a mint julep station...

and live music from The Crooked Jades...

and I have to admit there were some cute kids there, like this tiny Wildcat fan...

or the little one that stole the show, strumming his ukelele in the garden.

As for the fried chicken and the cole slaw, believe me when I say both turned out fabulously and were devoured rapidly at the party. How quickly something disappears on a buffet is certainly one measure of a dish's success.

It was a lovely afternoon in a lovely place. But no matter how nice Marin is, I'm a city girl at heart. I always like coming home over the Golden Gate Bridge...

and watching the ocean fly by.

Happy belated Derby Day!