Kat on Thyme

Two Days and a Wake-up

I can count the days on one hand now. And I’m more than half way to San Diego, geographically speaking. Nick comes home from his six month deployment on Tuesday, around 10:45. Or 1045, if you do military time, which even after all of my years of sailing, I’ve never mastered. And sailing I’ve been, which proved a godsend for passing the time.

Near the end of July, I left Seattle for my annual relief cooking trip aboard a beautiful historic yacht which my friend, Grant, captains. When guests are aboard it’s a busy job, filling my day from about 5:30 in the morning to around 9:30 at night. And as much work as it is, somehow it still feels like a vacation, to be with friends, in such a beautiful place, on such an amazing vessel. When no guests are aboard it’s easy to pretend that we belong around the long, polished teak dining table, eating our dinners and drinking the wine that’s been abandoned by the guests because of its inferior vintage. But the next day finds us cleaning, doing maintenance, provisioning, tidying, planning, phoning and faxing, and generally getting the boat and her gear ready to go.

My first year aboard, I thought so hard ahead of time about what I wanted to prepare for the guests. When I arrived on the boat and swung open the walk-ins I was greeted with every imaginable form of protein, and cupboards, bins, and stowage cubbies full of expensive, exciting, and ethnic ingredients. There were probably 10 different kinds of salt. All I needed was produce, and some fresh dairy products and we were ready to sail. So these past few years, I’ve been planning less and experimenting more. I bring a few trusty cookbooks and photocopied baking recipes and just wing it from there. Meticulous planning only proves frustrating on a boat, where weather, fishing, and the varied interests of the guests drive our daily schedule. Flexibility and a sense of humor are likely the most important traits of a boat chef, followed by creativity and a strong stomach, not necessarily in that order. This year the weather was dreary, and we had a few bumpy days at sea. I didn’t mind being below decks in such drizzle and took comfort in the warm galley, where I cooked and baked up my own little storm. The steward, Jill, and I had a bit of downtime to venture into Ketchikan in a downpour, Wrangle, on very tired feet, and into a tiny town called Thorton Creek, where we confounded the supersized locals in the hardware store, where we were looking for disposable latex gloves, sized small. They said their gloves weren’t too big for my hands, my hands were too small to be working in Alaska. Certainly Jill and I together, with a sack of flour under each arm, wouldn’t have made up one of those burly Alaskan giants.

Traveling with Jill is like traveling with a movie star. All week people asked if we were sisters, which I definitely never minded. Our last night in Alaska, we again donned the stupid yellow slickers, and wandered through the drizzle to Kito’s Kave- the local fishermen’s bar in Petersburg. We finished out trip in grand style, drinking whiskey and beer surrounded by crazy locals and barely legal Coast Guard cadets. The next morning didn’t feel so grand, but we rallied just in time for our taxi to the airport. Ten days down, in one fabulous swoop.

And now, I’m staying with my folks in Sacramento, seeing family and friends, until early Monday morning. Then, I fold myself back into the little yellow beetle convertible and hit the road again, this time with summer clothes, a few favorite cookbooks, too many pairs of shoes, and as always, an optimistic heart. Two more days and a wake-up.

I made this with last trip’s tired bananas and had it out for the guests when they arrived aboard.

Greet the Guests Banana Yogurt Coffeecake

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a large (9x13 inch) rectangular baking dish.

Whisk together the following ingredients in a large bowl:

2 cups unbleached flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 ½ teaspoon baking powder
1 ½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon Kosher salt

In another bowl, combine the following:

Heaping 1 ¾ cups yogurt
2 teaspoons vanilla
Zest of two small limes
6 Tablespoons melted butter
1 ¼ cups brown sugar
3 large eggs
3 very ripe bananas, pureed or mashed

Pour the liquid ingredients into the dry ingredients and fold them together. Spread the batter into the prepared pan and smooth into the corners so that the level is even. Sprinkle with the streusel topping and bake for about 25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. If the topping starts to brown too much, cover the top very loosely with foil. Cut into squares to serve.

Streusel Topping

3 Tablespoons melted butter
3 Tablespoons flour
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
About 2/3 cup finely chopped nuts or oatmeal (enough to give the mixture into a crumbly texture)

Mix the previous ingredients, except the nuts, with a fork to blend. Add the nuts and work into a crumbly state. Sprinkle onto the coffeecake evenly.

Makes 12 very large pieces.

Junkie

I have a new addiction. It’s not honey nut peanut butter or rooibus chai tea or any of the products that have topped the favorites chart over the last few years. I’ve become addicted to Craig's List, or more specifically, searching for houses to rent in San Diego on Craig’s List. I plan on moving down to San Diego in the middle of August, when Nick returns from his deployment with the Marine Corps. I haven’t talked to Nick in well over a month, so daily forays onto the Craig’s List site have served to fan the enthusiasm, and keep me focused on the future. Even though the houses that I’m looking at will likely not be available when we’re looking, somehow it feels valuable to me to know what’s out there, and it keeps me dreaming of the fun to come.

The family for whom I cook has gone on a three week vacation, which means vacation for me too, whether I like it or not. I should be prowling the farmer’s markets and spending time each day cooking and enjoying summer’s bounty. I should be taking this time to make beautiful food for my family and friends to enjoy. And I should be writing about it in language as colorful as the dishes themselves. I’m not. And even when I do cook, it’s in an effort to clear the pantry of the odds and ends that I don’t want to move. As much as this kind of cooking invites creativity, one can’t develop recipes based on the scoop of jam left in the jar, or the reduction that I made a while ago out of some sort of balsamic vinegar and something else that I can’t remember. There’s merit in trying not to waste ingredients that I’ve spent my money buying, there’s just not much I can pass along as a bona fide recipe. And the cooking I’ve done lately, has been squeezed in between rounds of organizing, sorting, packing, runs to Goodwill, and of course, browsing the housing section of Craig’s List. But, alas, my time will not have been wasted, for come August, we’ll be unpacking all of my glorious kitchen stuff in our little Spanish-style dream house.