Yukon Jen: A Series of Random Events
My life since 2005
Ok…two things about Duran Duran….
Shawna Bingham…microwaved fries with a tonne of ketchup in for our lunch, neon yellow sweaters and legwarmers.
Fraser Weir…that discussion about Duran Duran you had with Malky and Bruce on the bus on the way to the Roman catacombs in Italy that Easter break in 1991.
And here is a video:
Why? For no other reason than the simple fact that I can. Isn’t technology incredible? I’ve just spent the week in Alberta visiting family. And I wish I’d been more organized and told my friend in Yellowknife–she said she would have arranged a visit!!! …DAMN…Next time. Next time.
And, my plane was two hours late getting in. It’s 11:26 pm and I have to get myself ready to work tomorrow.
I have to take the Sonoma County Airport Express from SFO to Petaluma. The first thing the driver says when he starts his “driving-the-bus-to-Petaluma” speech is that sonic.net has teamed up with the bus company to provide mobile WiFi on the bus.
And I just think that’s pretty cool.
I’d planned a brief visit home to visit my family in Alberta this week–before I started a full-time contract in the South Bay. I was supposed to have a conference call on Thursday afternoon–but it got pushed to Friday at noon. Worried that I wouldn’t make the bus to the airport if I had to be on the call then drive through lunch-time traffic, I drove from Healdsburg down to Petaluma and set myself up in the public library and called in from there.
Participate on the call. Pack up the computer. Get myself to the airport bus. Get to the airport. Check-in (2 minutes before the cut-off for check-in—and everything is automated). I get to the gate with less than five minutes to spare before we start boarding the plane.
Fly to Calgary. Go through Canadian immigration. Collect my suitcase. Walk through customs. Get through the international gate–and realize I haven’t actually made any plans to meet my aunt and uncle who said they would pick me up. In fact, I don’t even have their cell number.
Call my sister. She says she’ll get Chantel (her daughter, my niece) to text our cousin Cody for his mother’s cell number. Two minutes later, Nat calls me back with Auntie Ann’s cell number. I dial. She answers — AND I HEAR LAUGHTER in the background. LAUGHTER!!! She’s at a party–not in a car, or at the airport picking me up.
“Can’t you find Uncle Bob?” Oh.. Uncle Bob has been elected to leave the party and drive to Calgary and pick me up. Yeah! I tell her I’m waiting — as conspicuously as possible in the MIDDLE of the corridor between the International arrivals and the door.
“Nope. No Uncle Bob.” As I’m talking, I move from the corridor out the door to outside to see if he’s waiting in a car alongside the curb. No Uncle Bob there either. We talk a tiny bit longer, and I ask for Uncle Bob’s cell number. Hang up. Dial.
Turns out, we’d been in the exact same spot for the exact same amount of time…but we’d just missed each other by a few minutes. We finally find each other and get my luggage out to the car and drive up to Red Deer–back to the party.
As we arrive in the door, people have been laughing and talking and having a good time. I come in behind my uncle. One of the guys looks at Uncle Bob. Looks at me. Looks at my Auntie Ann. Looks back at my uncle. “Where did you go? How can you leave the party and come back with a girl? He looks at his wife, “Can I go get one of those?”
Crude, but we all laugh. I’m introduced as the niece from California. We pour ourselves a drink and everybody continues with the party. Quote of the evening: “The only thing I remember about the 50s is I got circumcised and then I couldn’t walk for a year!” From somebody’s husband when we started talking about decades of fashion or something.
Saturday, my aunt and uncle drop me off at my cousin Dianna’s house. She’s got three kids (six and under), works from home, AND SHE STILL FINDS TIME TO MAKE JERKY!!!
Question…How many Canadian breasts in this picture?
My cousin prepping 14 lbs of breast meat from about eight or nine Canadian geese. It's apparently huntin' season. Her husband brought home the breasts...
Ha ha ha. After a cup of tea, I roll up my sleeves and help her prepare the breast for drying.
Sliced but not spiced.
….Am sitting in the Calgary Airport right now. Am pretty exhausted. I’ll have to finish this later.
The Largest Cock in the Land, originally uploaded by YukonJen.
Am visiting my family in Alberta this week. We’re having a laugh–or two–or three. As we were driving out the township road where my aunt and uncle live, I see this HUGE rooster statue in somebody’s front yard.
“I HAVE to take a picture of that!” I exclaim.
“What?” my aunt questions.
“You’ve never seen that rooster?”
“What rooster?” She drives by it everyday and has never really noticed the larger-than-life rooster or other animal statues in that yard.
By this time, we are already passed it and I have to explain that I’ve just seen a gorilla on a roof and the largest rooster in the history of time. AND ALL I CAN THINK of is the title for my blog entry.
My aunt and uncle smirk. “You’re a dirty girl, Jennifer.”
I laugh. “I’m pretty innocent,” I tell them.
Yeah. Right. I couldn’t resist getting my uncle to take this picture:
Riding the Largest Cock in the Land, originally uploaded by YukonJen.
Can you see the gorilla on the roof behind me?
I hear about Mateo Granados from a few people before I actually get to talk to him myself. David and Ondine mention him when they find out I’m looking for interesting perspectives. And I crosscheck the reference with Julie, my winemaker-foodie friend. She nods her head. Yes. Definitely.
And when I’m talking to Evie at the Tierra Vegetables Farm Stand, she says: “Oh. You HAVE to talk to Mateo.” And she calls him right there and leaves a message with my phone number.
Mateo calls me the next day. I’m driving home and don’t really get a chance to explain myself, but we agree to meet the following Wednesday, at 9:00 am at the Palette Art Café.
I arrive early to sort myself out before he arrives. He rushes in a few minutes late, dripping and sheepish. He’s been at his kitchen making tamales since 6:00 am. He wanted to shower and clean up before he met me. We order coffee and sit down to chat.
He’s animated. He’s not only explaining himself with words. He uses his face, his hands. He gestures. He just starts explaining.
“What I’m doing,” he says, “Is reproducing the food I grew up eating—but with the bounty of Sonoma County growers.” He smiles and nods his head, “Modern Yucatan Cuisine.”
He explains a bit about the Nuevo Latino cuisine movement and states: “But we’re taking it further. We’re making it regional: Flavors of the Yucatan—with Sonoma County flair.”
“I grew up in the breadbasket of Mexico. My father was a butcher and my mother—an artist. This is what I know. This is what I love. This”—he motions to the table in front of us as if there were a grandiose spread right there, “This is just what I do.”
I ask him to explain more of his past. How did he come to Sonoma County? Believe it or not, he came to the US as a professional soccer player. It wasn’t long though, before he injured himself too much to continue to play. “My housemate at the time was Michael Bonaccorsi. We would spend all of our time together tasting. Tasting food. Tasting wine. And expressing ourselves. That is how I learned English: talking about food and wine with Michael Bonaccorsi.”
Michael went on to become one of the first twenty master sommeliers in the United States. Mateo went on to work his way up through some of the Bay Area’s top restaurants and is now a pedigree chef. He’s held positions such as Executive Sous Chef at Masa’s in San Francisco and Executive chef at Charlie Palmer’s Dry Creek Kitchen here in Healdsburg.
LOCAL FINE DINING
Now, Mateo’s goal is to start his own fine dining experience. He aims to bring his refined Mayan recipes to the same level as respected French, Italian, and Spanish cuisine.
He started small. In fact, he went back to square one. In 2004 he started selling his handmade tamales in the Farmer’s Markets all over Sonoma County. His philosophy: “Grow local. Know local. Buy local.”
His commitment to his customers is 100% locally grown and produced. He buys his ingredients from over 30 growers in Sonoma County. “If you love what you do, you have to do it right.” He’s a passionate proponent of not only knowing where his food comes from, but knowing the grower and how it was grown. The Local Harvest website defines community supported agriculture as “putting the farmers’ face on food.”
Mateo certainly puts a face on every ingredient he uses. He describes every dish with a list of identities. It wasn’t just queso fresco. It was Bodega Bay Queso Fresco. Black Sheep bacon. Pug’s Leap Goat Cheese. Black Beans from Tierra Vegetables. And so many more. I couldn’t keep track.
“You can’t beat it. The flavors. The smells. The textures. I get vegetables from Tierra—there’s still earth on them. And roots!” He cups his hands as if he’s holding a bulb of garlic or something and brings them towards his face. I can tell he can smell the earth.
The idea of fresh, local produce is to keep it alive until you use it to cook. He tells me: “Enjoy it while you can. Because the fresher it is, the more alive it is on your plate. The more flavor explodes in your mouth.”
Another part of Mateo’s philosophy is: Respect. Respect the land. Respect the food. Respect the growers. Respect the producers. He knows how much energy, time, and labor it takes to grow a tomato, an onion, a carrot, a pig. Because he knows his suppliers, he doesn’t waste. He creates his signature dishes around what’s available in the season and finds a use for everything. Everything. He doesn’t waste anything because he doesn’t want anything to go to waste. He’s very aware of what he’s throwing away.
He tells me all of this and I take notes. Finally, he takes a moment to sip his coffee and looks at me expectantly: “Do you have any questions?”
“Well,” I say thoughtfully, “Is it possible to have an experience?” He looks at me and thinks for a second and says: “Ok. You want an experience? Let’s go to my kitchen.”
FRESH FAST FABULOUS
We drive to the kitchen where he prepares his tamales. As we get out of his car, he points to two big trucks and adds with a grin: “Those. Those are complete mobile kitchens. I am so committed to local ingredients and the idea of fresh. I bring everything to your site and prepare it right there.”
He shows me around the kitchen and introduces me to his workers who are preparing tamales for his Farmer’s Markets. He makes me taste some of his garnishes: olives from Lou Preston, beets and cabbage cured with bay leaves, cinnamon sticks, and cloves.
I realize what he means by keeping the produce alive until it’s on your plate (or in this case—in my mouth). (A few weeks later as I’m writing this article and thinking about his cured beets and cabbage, I’m still salivating from the memory).
“OK,” he pulls a cast iron fry pan from the cupboard, “Let’s make a quesadilla.” He asks his helper to clean some cactus.
“Come over here,” he motions and makes me smell the olive oil. “Can you beat that?” He pours a dollop to the fry pan and turns up the heat. He adds the cactus pads for a few seconds on each side then removes them to a cutting board. Then, he goes into the other room to get out his knives and comes back sharpening one: “To make good food, you have to have good knives.” He’s cheeky.
He slices some onion and crystallizes it in the pan. Then dices the cactus pads, slices a bit of Pug’s Leap Cambremer goat cheese, and layers it all together on a soft tortilla. All of which, he now puts it back in the fry pan, fast. Both sides. Just enough to grill the tortilla and soften the cheese.
He whisks it out onto a cutting board, quarters the quesadilla and decorates the top with tomatilla salsa and his cured cabbage condiments. He tops it all off with a handful of sliced green onion. All the while, he’s lecturing about not wasting anything in his kitchen.
How can you beat that? 10 minutes or less. Fresh. Fast. Fabulous.
He smiles:“Pair it with a crisp Rose and you have yourself a succulent, fine-dining, regional experience.”
MORE ON MATEO
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Flickr photo stream for this article MateoGranadosCatering.com Interested in attending a Missing Link diner? |
PS: You can taste more than his tamales at the Healdsburg Farmer’s Markets on Tuesdays and Saturdays. You can also find a Mateo Granados menu at the Santa Rosa Farmer’s Market on Saturdays and in Sebastopol on Sundays.
I’ve decided I’m a trail runner. A few weeks ago, my friend Mitch ran the Skyline to the Sea ultra marathon. He blogged about it, a few of his fellow runners blogged about it, and I decided to keep me challenged and interested, I would start running trails.
Last week, I investigated some trails out a Lake Sonoma. Last Tuesday, I ran the trail behind Badger Park, here in Healdsburg.
Today, Mitch and I started out from Howarth Park, behind Spring Lake, into Anadel State Park. I wasn’t terribly prepared. I’d brought extra water. I was expecting to go for a few miles–around the lakes and such.
I started talking. A good two hours later, we were still talking (or at least I was), my right knee hurt a bit, but we (I) managed to continue for two hours straight. Talking–that’s not a problem for me. Running on the other hand…that was a feat. There were a few times I felt really good (they were usually on a slight downhill). There were a few times I had to walk (on the slight uphills–more so at the end of the run).
All in all. It was a good long run–for me.
Not for Mitch. He’d just done 50 kms at the Skyline to the Sea race. I’m sure he could probably have gone for much longer–running that is. As much as he is a marathon runner, I think I’m a marathon talker.
Regardless. It was a good start to my week. A good long run.
This week, I’d like to do two shorter runs on Tuesday and Thursday. And fit in some weights and yoga in between.
I’ve been struggling lately. Getting things done. Prioritizing. Trying to get my life in order. Trying to move forward on too many fronts. I know. I know. “Life is what happens while you’re making plans.”
I bought myself this Franklin/Covey daily planner thing last week. And, I must admit that it’s actually working for me. I’ve been getting up in the morning, making my coffee and breakfast (oh…I love breakfast…I could eat breakfast three times a day), and planning and prioritizing. Think. Plan. Do.
It worked up until Wednesday. Then–I tried doing too many things again. Then, I think things compiled from the first part of the week. My computer has been in the shop and I was borrowing a friend’s so I couldn’t work on my map project. And I helped another friend start a blog. And I thought I’d lost my camera, and keys, and iPod. And I had guests arriving on Thursday. And I helped another friend with some trees (and almost knocked my face off). And..well. I’ll just stop there and say I’m restarting again this week.
From my cousin Nik: Plan it and it will happen. From Franklin/Covey: Focus.
One of the things this starter planner organizer things suggests doing is a series of activities which will help me focus on my life priorities. Define a personal mission statement on living life. And I know. It seems weird and personal and hokey–to me. But I’ve spoken to a lot of pretty successful people over the last few years (or people I consider pretty successful in the realms of life/work/achievements). Most of them said they made a plan. A life plan. Then they make a yearly plan, monthly, plan, and daily plan. And I thought I would try this series of Franklin/Covey thinking activities to help me get my life in focus.
After a week of identifying values and roles and tribute statements (ok…that feels more than hokey to me and honestly, that part of my work book is blank), I figured out I already have a life mission statement. I wrote it this summer, when I wrote my entry to my Dad on Father’s Day.
Oh. And laugh hard along the way.
And PS: Yes. My parents are two of the people I consider successful in the life/work/achievement realms.
