San Diego part 1

Nice view of the harbor from our balcony.

Some time ago, my husband was invited to be the opening speaker at a conference in San Diego. He turned the offer down because the talk would occur on our anniversary. The conference people offered to bring me to San Diego, too, and pay for our hotel stay for a few days, so we accepted. About two weeks before the trip, I wrenched my back lifting heavy boxes, and it was still hurting so I considered not going. My chiropractor said the travel would probably aggravate my back but that I should be able to go, so I did. We arrived around 10 p.m. Wednesday night, exhausted, and I won't go into too many details, but the large resort hotel was less than perfect. The desk staff was unfriendly, the room had an odor somewhere between mildew and pee, and the bed — let's just say I had about three hours of sleep. We tried to air out the room with both the balcony door and the a.c. (no, not at the same time), but nothing helped. In the morning we could see that the carpet was scary. The room felt damp and cold even though it wasn't cold out. We did have a nice view of the harbor from our balcony, though. We were very grateful to the people who invited us to come but with my back acting up, we knew we had to stay elsewhere.

The next evening after the conference we asked for a different room, but the one they showed us wasn't an improvement, and since the only time my back doesn't hurt is when I'm lying down, the bed wasn't going to work out. We found another hotel and moved downtown for the rest of our stay. By the time we checked in, the day had taken its toll, and we were both tired and grumpy. The nasty salad we'd tried to eat for lunch between conference sessions at the hotel had cast a food-gloom over the day as well. We ended up with take-out from an Indian restaurant my husband liked, and my aloo gobi tasted good, but was far too greasy for me, and I still shudder a little when I think about it. Taking a photo never crossed my mind — that's how wiped-out I was.

The next morning we breakfasted on fruit from the grocery store, and snacks brought from home, and headed to La Jolla. We went to the Museum of Modern Art, and as we were buying our tickets I spied what looked like a Deborah Butterfield sculpture in one of the gallery rooms — and in fact, it was. The two horses were made from cast aluminum and steel. It's magical how she can create forms that are skeletal in nature, but filled with the life and weight of a living horse. Butterfield taught for a few years in the art department at the UW Madison at the same time as a friend of mine's husband. He found one of her early wire horses in the trash room, and brought it home. We're talking about a life-size horse, that they kept in their not-so-big living room. It was a pretty spectacular trash pick! They've moved a lot since then but I hope they still have it; the horse was quite wonderful, and we could never understand why it had been discarded.

We saw lots of great paintings at the gallery including a Milton Avery that I wished I could take home.

There was a room on the second floor that had cutouts in the corners so you could take photos of the very beautiful view, so of course, I did.

When we had seen all the art at least twice — it was a small museum — we headed to the museum gardens.

With exotic foliage all around us, and the ocean below, we luxuriated in the gorgeous weather and strolled the gardens.

An exuberant sculpture by Niki de Saint Phalle stood prominently at one end of the garden. Abby, this is the same artist whose sculptures you posted about in NY, isn't she?

After leaving the art museum we walked the path overlooking the ocean and beach. The weather was perfect and the scenery so beautiful, and I kept wondering why we didn't live here. Oh right — probably couldn't afford it. Oh well.


Eventually we got hungry and headed to the vegan-friendly Lean and Green Café (organic health food). Although not vegetarian, they had several offerings from which we could choose and a pleasant outdoor patio on which to eat. The only weird thing was there was a gym facing the patio, and all the people on treadmills could stare at us as we ate. Made me feel guilty for eating instead of running so I chose a seat with my back to the athletes.

We settled on a vegan delight (roasted eggplant, fresh basil, roasted red pepper, baby spinach, sunflower seeds, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar in a wrap) and a miso bowl (brown rice, broccoli, carrots, fresh jalapenos, sesame miso sauce). I'd have to say that this may have been our favorite meal of the trip — the food was fresh and well-prepared, and we didn't get upset stomachs.

While we were there we also picked up a package of granola for breakfasts — eating three meals out in a day is just too much. The bag was expensive, but it lasted the rest of the trip, and I even brought some home, so it worked out to be a bargain.

At first bite I thought it was too sweet, but it quickly grew on me and I decided I really liked it. A lot! Nice and crunchy and very filling. I ate it dry.

We didn't go to dinner until 8:30 p.m. partly because we were tired and couldn't get our act together, and partly because we were still full from lunch when dinnertime rolled around. We picked a place that was highly rated on several review sites. I really wanted to try to stick with vegan or vegetarian places and the Thai restaurant, Plumaria, met all our criteria. We started with fresh spring rolls, and they were OK — not quite up to the ones we're used to in Seattle, or the ones we make ourselves. Or even the ones we used to get from a certain food truck in Madison. But they weren't bad — just not exciting.

Both dishes are on the plate but you can hardly tell them apart.

We also ordered two dishes to share, and although they seemed very different on the menu — one was a tofu and veggie thing with ginger and the other was a wide-noodle dish — when they arrived they were exactly the same color. Brown. They tasted a lot alike, too. You can't judge a restaurant on one visit so I won't say I'll never go back. But we weren't overwhelmed by our dinner.

After a long day of walking and eating, we were really glad we'd changed our hotel and could sink into a comfortable bed to be rested for the next day.

Middle Eastern 30-minute vegan cooking class

Moroccan-style Eggplant, Olive and Bean Tagine; Spicy Carrot and Cashew Biryani

We periodically take a cooking class or two at PCC, our local food co-op, especially if one of our favorite instructors is teaching. When we noticed that Sureyya Gokeri was teaching a 30-minute vegan Middle Eastern food class, we signed up. Sureyya is from Turkey close to the Syrian border on the coast, and a superb cook of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern food.  The classes may seem a little pricey, but include a wonderful meal — and dinner plus cooking techniques plus entertaining stories add up to a fair deal.

Almond and Onion Soup with Fresh Mint and Garlic Sauce

First item on the menu was Almond and Onion Soup with Fresh Mint and Garlic Sauce. The soup was thick, rich and deeply flavored. The garlic sauce was raw, and stirred in just before serving. Sureyya made her own stock from vegetable scraps and peels.

Root Vegetable and Herb Salad with Toasted Walnuts and Coriander

The second dish, Root Vegetable and Herb Salad with Toasted Walnuts and Coriander had me a little nervous because it contained my nemesis, fennel, AND beets. Bleh. I considered claiming a fennel allergy and eating the beets, which I don't hate, but decided to take my chances with the whole lot since the veggies were to be roasted. Roasting makes everything better. The salad, which had butternut squash, parsnip, peppers, celery root and garlic in addition to the fennel and beets, was delicious. Even the fennel was good. Yes, even the fennel, because roasting is magic.

The Spicy Carrot and Cashew Biryani on a bed of Seasonal Herbs was wonderful, and looked great after being packed into a custard dish and unmolded onto the plate. The biryani was fragrant with cardamom, cumin, coriander and bay leaves and stuffed with carrots and cashews. And, I suppose, arsenic.

The biryani was plated with a Moroccan-style Eggplant, Olive and Bean Tagine. In addition to eggplant, green olives and lima beans, the tagine contained zucchini, mushrooms, tomatoes and potatoes. Sureyya warned us that when buying eggplant, don't buy soft ones. Choose very firm eggplants for the best quality.

Everything was extremely delicious, and my only complaint would be that the recipes used too much fat for my taste. I would definitely use less oil when making the dishes, tweaking them to my personal preferences while maintaining the vibrant flavors, textures and colors.

Umeboshi-tahini dressing | First time in an art show

Today's memory comes from when I was in my early 20s and living in Syracuse, NY. I was doing a lot of painting at the time, and had created a three-foot by three-foot abstract painting I called Nude in a Garden, that I liked a lot. I had a friend — an artist who also taught art in a public school — who told me I should enter my painting in the Everson Museum Invitational, a juried exhibit that attracted entries from around the country. My first reaction was negative — I was very shy about showing my art, and this was way too public. No, no, no. But she kept harassing me, and I finally relented and dragged the painting down to the museum. Ugh. I was prepared only for rejection, so when the notice came that my painting had been accepted, I was shocked. Could barely breathe. I called my friend to see if she'd gotten her acceptance, but she hadn't. And she didn't. She and all her artist friends had entered, and only I, a casual artist at best, got in. Well.

The evening of the opening arrived and my husband and I went to the museum. I was a little shaky, but excited. We wandered the rooms until I caught sight of my painting, and it was too much. I couldn't enter the space. I glanced at my body to make sure I was wearing clothes, because I felt so naked and exposed. I hated the painting that I had previously liked so much — it was hung badly, it clashed with the paintings on either side, the colors looked bad, the frame was wrong, etc. etc. etc. I just couldn't wait for the show to be over so I could get the painting back home. Horrible.

My attitude toward seeing my work in public has never improved, and I reacted the same way to seeing my things in other shows, even in ones where I received an award. I've even gone to a show with a friend and refused to tell her which piece was mine. I thought I was singularly neurotic until I went with a highly creative co-worker to an art show in which he had two pieces, and he refused to tell me which ones they were! I couldn't believe it, but we had a good laugh over our shared problem, and he finally relented. His paintings were amazing, but he saw only catastrophe instead of art.

It's been a long time since I've put my personal art in public. As a graphic designer, my designs were very public, but no one knew they were mine. I liked the anonymity.

Today's recipe is umeboshi-tahini dressing. I've been putting this stuff on my grains, beans and salads for so long I don't even think of it as a recipe. In fact, I never measure the ingredients, but I did so I could post a recipe. I learned to make it when I followed a macrobiotic diet, and I never stopped using it. It tastes so good and adds a special tang to whatever food it's applied to. Salad dressings can be very anonymous, but this one stands out and refuses to be overlooked.

Some people get annoyed when they see "weird" ingredients like "umeboshi paste" listed in a recipe. It sounds so exotic and obscure. But is using Japanese umeboshi plums really so different from using all the other wonderful foods and condiments we've adopted from other countries? It's just another powerful flavor source that's good for your health as well as your palate. Look at all the Mexican foods like chipotle in adobo, or salsa verde, or Middle Eastern foods like hummus, felafel or tabooli. At one time they were considered exotic and strange.

Umeboshi plums and paste are made from a very small, round fruit closely related to the apricot, that is pickled with salt and shiso leaves. You can buy them whole or as a more convenient-to-use paste. It may seem expensive but it goes a long way, and I don't buy it very often. It has a salty-sour taste that goes especially well with the bitter flavor of tahini.

Umeboshi-tahini dressing

• 1 teaspoon umeboshi paste
• 1 generous tablespoon tahini
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon agave syrup, maple syrup or other sweetener of choice
• 1 tablespoon water to start, plus more as needed

Place the umeboshi, tahini, lemon juice, sweetener and water in a small dish or measuring cup. Mix to a smooth consistency. Add more water, a little at a time, as necessary to achieve a creamy dressing that is thick but will drizzle from a spoon. The amount of water depends on the texture of your tahini.

I don't usually sweeten the dressing when it's going to be used on beans or grains, only when it's destined for a green salad — and not always even then. And I don't always add lemon — just tahini, umeboshi and water.

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Most current piece - "It's About Time" - collage with acrylic paint

"Quilt" - colored pencil, acrylic, pen

Watercolor painting for garden journal

Painted bird house

Acrylic painting from an album photo