I want to move to Los Angeles

Oh, hey there.

In case you hadn't noticed, it's been a little quiet around here recently. Part of the reason is that we were gone all last week, living in the 'burbs at my mom's place while the windows in our flat were replaced. Although both the husband and I worked the whole time, I took a bit of a cooking and blogging vacation.

Then, last Friday I went to Los Angeles. I think you know of my affinity for L.A. It has not subsided. In fact, I think I'd like to move there. So, if you know of anyone down there looking to hire someone with very few talents but a winning personality, send them my way. While I may lack actual marketable "skills," I have a strong affinity for animals (and they for me), I am surprisingly good at crossword puzzles, and I do possess a college degree, if that means anything these days.

While in L.A., I spent my time in beautiful, beachy Venice with my lovely friends Claire and John. You know how there are friends that you enjoy seeing, but you don't mind if you only see them once in a long while. And then there are friends--and it always works like this--that you are pretty sure you could see all the time, but they live far away. These are that kind of friends. I wish we lived next door to each other. Although, Claire and I would get nothing done but talk about and eat food all day long. She's from Texas and a very good cook. I credit her for introducing me to creamy grits and cheese pennies.

Anyway, I'm back in San Francisco where it's cold and people are peevish about it, including me. In addition to being fussy, I've had a whole pile of work to get to. So, I haven't cooked or baked anything of note since I returned. When I'm busy, I rely on old faithful recipes--roast chicken and pasta with broccoli rabe--to get me through the week.

I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to post again, or if by the time I did, anyone would even be checking this old thing. So, in a last ditch effort to retain my readership, I've got a cute salad to post about that I made a couple of weeks ago.

I know, salad is boring--sometimes to eat, nearly always to read about. I can't guarantee that this is any different in regard to the latter. But what is indisputable is that this was a very delicious salad.

One thing I've decided is that often I prefer lettuceless salads, and this is one such salad. It was thrown together right around when we were leaving for our week away, and I wanted to use up a few things. This included cherry tomatoes, some roasted asparagus, raw fennel, and an avocado. Would you believe me if I told you this was a heavenly combination when tossed with a light vinaigrette? Well, it's true.

Anyway, please come back again soon. I promise to post something much more bloggy--a good cake or something with porchetta--next.

A delicious pasta, by way of a good friend

My friend Stacie and her husband used to live in the flat upstairs. In many ways, it was an ideal arrangement: for one thing, they own the building, and so not only were they able to rent to friends, we had our landlords nearby in case of the inevitable homestead crisis.

Second, and more importantly, we got to enjoy that kind of perfect friendship that is easiest when you live in a city, in close quarters. We could, on a whim, walk down to Cole Street and grab sushi; share the overflow from baking projects; or have an impromptu glass of wine on a weeknight. Plus, Stacie and I have known each other since we were born. Our dads were friends since they themselves were young, so we grew up together. It was like having family around.

Sometimes I would encounter her in the evenings, around 9 or 10, on the back stairs as I made my way out to the recycling bin or to get the last of the laundry. Usually I would have just put away a sizeable dinner, a glass or two of wine, and was headed for bed after hoisting myself weakly off the couch.

"What are you up to?" I'd say, knowing the answer would make me feel more like a lump than ever.

"Oh, just working on a few projects," she'd reply casually. Painting something for her little dollhouse, or sewing a purse out of cool fabric scraps that I would eventually covet.

It's doesn't seem fair that some people get piles of talent on top of mountains of motivation, does it?

A couple of years ago, Stacie and her husband moved to a bigger house, on account of having a kid and needing more space. I like to think that this decision was difficult for them, that they knew they would miss our perfect, symbiotic living arrangement, two couples connected by a rickety staircase and almost four decades of friendship.

I'm pretty certain this isn't true, though, and I can't blame them. They found a great place not too far from here, and a few weeks ago, they threw a wonderful party. In addition to a magazine-worthy array of roast chicken sandwiches, risotto, and tomato salad, there was a heaping bowl of gorgeous creamy pasta, full of butternut squash and flecked with basil, of which I proceeded to eat many, many helpings.

As I threw down on my second or third bowl, it occurred to me that this recipe seemed familiar, although I was sure I'd never eaten it before. I then realized I'd come across it a few months earlier on Stacie's blog that she writes with her friend Simran.  (And in case you're wondering, yes, Stacie is responsible for  the groovy drawings on the site.)

She'd written this post about a delightful penne with roasted butternut squash and creamy goat cheese, courtesy of Giada de Laurentiis. The recipe floated around in my brain for awhile, but like so many, got lost in the shuffle.

I finally got around to making it this week. And I am happy to say, it did not disappoint.

I'm a little bothered that I didn't think of this combination myself, because it's really fantastic. The squash and onions get roasty and sweet; the goat cheese tangy; the walnuts crunchy; the basil bright and licoricey.

So, thanks, Stace, for doing not only doing a test-run of this recipe, but letting me sample it first. I suppose I should thank Giada, too. In any case, I highly recommend the pasta. It takes a little time for the squash to roast, but otherwise is extremely simple. I suggest you give it a go, and invite a good friend over to enjoy it together.

Apricot walnut bars, and a houseguest

Did you forget about me, friends?

There's been lots of work to do this week, plus we've had a houseguest. Our little buddy Django came to stay with us, and Frances quickly schooled him in the way things go around here.

First, if you hear the clang of a pot or pan lid, vegetables being chopped, or the refrigerator door swing shut, run as fast as you can to the kitchen and assess the situation.

Once you determine the source of the sound, get underfoot and don't move until something drops.

As soon as something hits the floor, it's every dog for him/herself.

When you've scrounged whatever you can, repeat from the beginning.

It's been a joy to see them together. Makes us think of getting Frances a full-time sidekick.

Anyway, today I had the itch to do something with some dried apricots I picked up recently. Apricot bars seemed a natural fit, but I have found mixed luck with bar cookies. Remember when I made the crazy mango bars? They weren't bad but they weren't...good.

These apricot bars I whipped up, though, they were swell. I even included the walnuts, which is unusual for me. Usually I abhor nuts in baked things.

In a way, they almost seemed like less of a bar and more like a little cake sitting on shortbread. The top is cakey and delicate, and as I bit into it, I imagined eating one for breakfast the next day. But then you get down to the crumbly cookie base, and it's hard to persuade yourself that these really belong in breakfast territory.

Although, if people can eat steak and eggs for breakfast, why can't I eat a layered cake-on-cookie?

Give me one good reason.