True Friendship

You may think that true friendship is shared interests, mutual support, a complementary sense of humor and deep, personal sharing over many years but...nah!

True friendship is packing a big box with Meyer lemons, limes, Valencia oranges and Fuerte avocados from your own trees and shipping it up from Southern California to me here in benighted* Northern California where the sun refuses to shine as it is supposed to and the weather refuses to warm.

That's what true friendship is. From my true friend, Jeanne.

Bless you, baby!

*Obviously, I wrote this a few days ago - today is gorgeous, at last! Did my kvetching bring on the warmer weather, or was it just kismet?

Divine Intervention

Okay, goshdarnit, I'm sure the blankety-blank reservoirs are filled to overflowing by now! When the fearmongers on the TV news in California haven't mentioned the threat of drought for three months, I know the old water table is doing just fine. So, it's time to turn off heaven's spigot, already! We surrender!

Whining over too much rain when the Middle East is exploding in revolution and the poor, stoic Japanese are staggering under a hideous one-two punch - not to mention other human and natural disasters happening around the world - seems downright childish.

Still, my spirits have been down a bit lately, what with all the news from afar and my own family concerns plus the unending rain, so I decided to reverse the trend by volunteering as a reading tutor at a local charter school, Richmond College Prep, and making an avocado salad. Small things, but I Iike to think they both make a difference.

And what a difference they made! If you've never been hugged by 15 four- and five-year olds in a delicious scrum of excited, wriggling little bodies, you haven't lived. And the shy smile on a child's face when you praise her improved reading is worth a million bucks. I am giving a little time; I am getting so much more.

Oh, right, this is a food blog! If you don't have time to volunteer for some heart-filling activity, try avocado salad instead. Get yourself a ripe avocado (Fuerte, if possible), slice it in half, take out the pit, fill the cup where the pit rested with supremes of pink grapefruit (which is just a fancypants way of saying grapefruit sections without the membranes that divide them) and squeeze the rest of the juice of the grapefruit over the whole thing. No dressing needed or, even, wanted.

The juice will keep the avocado from turning brown and the sweet-tart grapefruit is the perfect foil for the rich, unctuous avocado. You get a shot of Vitamin C for your whiny immune system and a pampering treat for your childish side, all in one sweet package. Eaten separately, they are delicious; eaten together, they ascend to divine. And we could all use some divine intervention right now, couldn't we?

Avocado Heaven

When we went to Fresno to meet our friend Jeanne, we took her packages of nuts from Valley Pistachio, the shop we call Pistachio Heaven. We discovered Pistachio Heaven several years ago on a different trip to Fresno (we call it Fres-yes) and have stopped there ever since. They advertise with large signs along the freeway that count down the miles to their store, an old fashioned marketing gimmick that still delights me.

It's one of those shops that typify for me the best of American commerce. The pistachios are grown right near by, they package their own and the varieties and flavors increase every time we go - they are always trying out something new. The shop is immaculate and so is the little garden outside. They are friendly folk who share stories of their lives with us. They never fail to give Cora a pat as she waits patiently for us, tied to the front porch railing.

They are happy to ship nuts around the country, too, so we usually take a minute to choose some of their mixed varieties to send to friends or family back east. My Dad used to love getting his pistachios as a surprise. This time, we noted that they have expanded to a small winery on the property, too. They are enterprising people.

Anyway, this is what Jeanne brought us in return - heavenly avocados from her mother's tree in southern California. Fuertes, the very best. As much as we enjoy Pistachio Heaven, we know that we got the best end of that deal!

It's That Time Again

It's that time again - the part of the year where the weather can't decide if it's summer or fall from one day to the next. The day I ate this sandwich, it was full-on summer with sunshine from birdsong to sungone. Sheer heaven.

The sandwich was sheer heaven, too. This is my very favorite sandwich but I can only have it for a few weeks in late summer, when the tomatoes are perfectly ripe and the avocados reach buttery perfection. I've told you about this before - if you weren't paying attention, I hope you are now.

First, you need wheat toast, as hearty as you can find, and if it has wheatberries in it, so much the better. I used to use toasted whole wheat English muffins but recently they have been oversweetened, so I have gone to wheatberry toast.

Then, a scrape of mayonnaise, just enough to keep the tomato juice from immediately soaking the toast. It will eventually do that; the mayo is just a delaying tactic with a fillip of flavor.

A slice of ripe, summer sun-perfected tomato, like this one that Chilebrown gave us. No lesser tomato will do, take my word for it.

Topped with a couple of slices of rich avocado, then sprinkled with freshly ground black pepper and a generous squeeze of tart and tangy lemon juice.

Most likely, you'll need a knife and fork for this but bust out the silverware, sit yourself down and indulge in a sandwich that sings of summer. Quick, before fall returns.

Doctor's Orders

I can think of worse fates than to develop high blood pressure and be sentenced to a lifetime of high potassium foods. For example, I could have become allergic to cats, or chocolate, or strawberries. I could have contracted rabies and needed painful shots. I could have gotten bird lice from the wild turkeys who live in my town.

Oy!

Luckily, none of those catastrophes have struck so far. Instead, I've been diagnosed with hypertension and the pills I take to lower my blood pressure have the side effect of throwing off my potassium levels. The imbalance is only mild, so my doc has suggested that I include lots of high-potassium foods in my diet to replace the lost electrolyte.

Avocados have always been a fave in my family, a rare and expensive treat we could afford only every now and then. I have loved spreading my toast with avocado rather than jam ever since My Beloved taught me this practice early in our courtship; he taught me some other cool things during our courtship, too, but that would be telling. Avocado toast is not a sinful indulgence any more, it's part of a healthy diet. I can think of worse fates.

Taxing Lunch

We put aside an entire Saturday for this chore. As I write, we are assembling the annual information for our accountant to do our taxes. Ugh. For all-out boredom punctuated by chills of fear, I can't think of a rival for filling out tax forms. Neither My Beloved nor I are any good at math, or keeping records, or anything requiring diligence, so this yearly event is our nadir.

When one is struggling and swearing one's way through the tax form nightmare, spectacularly tasty lunches are in order to keep spirits and energy high. Luckily, ingredients for just such a lunch were in the house.

A Della Fattoria campagne loaf, Bellwether Farms farmer's cheese and Jeanne's Mom's unbelievably good avocado. Toast the bread, spread the cheese, slice the avo, drizzle a little EVOO, sprinkle with freshly ground pepper and a tiny spritz of Hawaiian red salt and you've got lunch that will sustain calculations throughout a long, taxing afternoon.

Friends In High Places

Our Norwalk friend Jeanne has a wonderful yard full of fruit trees. In front, she has lemons and limes. In back, oranges. Southern California is loaded with citrus trees and I can now attest to how much better those taste when freshly picked.

Jeanne's parents, however, are the true friends in high places - or at least they have fruit in high places - a wonderful avocado tree that produces the creamiest, butteriest, most unctuous alligator pears it has ever been my pleasure to devour.

Usually, we are partial to the Haas avocados that are easier to find in our markets. Rough skinned and black when ripe, they have a wonderful taste and texture. Jeanne's parents' tree, however, produces the smooth green variety, which I approached with caution, having found this type to be stringy and watery in the past.

Well, let me tell you, when they are picked just ripe and eaten as soon as they soften with just a little vinaigrette made with a lemon from Jeanne's bushes drizzled over them, they are food for the gods and eating them makes me feel godlike. What a heavenly taste and texture! They aren't kidding when they say it's good to have friends in high places.

My All-Time Summer Favorite Sammy

And while we're talking ripe tomatoes, don't forget this one. I know, I know, you've seen it before, but it's worth another mention at this time of year.

Nubby, crunchy whole wheat toast (I used to use whole wheat English muffins but they've changed the recipe and the darned things are now sweet! What were they thinking? Crazy! Anyway, now I use wheatberry bread). Top with a scrape of mayo, then a layer of ripe, perfect tomatoes, then a layer of ripe avocado, followed by a generous squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a nice grinding of fresh black pepper.

I recommend a knife and fork as those avocado slices are slippery little devils. Plus, it makes one feel so civilized to eat a sandwich with utensils, even in high summer when fingers are acceptable.

The only thing on the planet, and possibly in the universe, that beats this is a BLT made with similarly ripe and ready tomatoes.

Leafless Salad

I can really tell that spring has sprung now because I am enjoying salads again. I generally go into salad hibernation 'round about November and don't emerge until March or April. The leafy ones are still slightly suspect, to me, but this crunchy, munchy one was the order of the day, even though I had to chew only on the left side as I had a root canal yesterday on the right.

My Beloved was away on business so I was taking a cooking vacay. Broccoli and cauliflower chunks, whole cherry tomatoes, cubes of avocado, celery and a sprinkling of pickle relish all seemed appealing when I opened the fridge so I added them to a small can of tuna and dressed the whole thing with a little mayonnaise (no, not homemade - too fussy when it's just me) thinned with lemon juice and enlivened with a shaking of dill weed.

The exciting news of the day is that I'm pretty sure my lettuce has sprouted! The heads should be ready about the same time as my appetite for leafy salads kicks in!

Avocado Enhances Everything

Chicken salad is a favorite of ours whether topping salad greens or stuffed into a sandwich with the last of my homemade bread.

In addition to chicken chunks, there was chopped raw broccoli, celery, scallions and crisp, frilly lettuce leaves.

I thinned the mayo with a splash of white wine vinegar and added a little Dijon mustard and fresh thyme from the garden but it wasn't truly wondrous until we added the slices of avocado.

Avocado is our friend.

Salad Weather

We've had seriously sunny weather for the past month or more but only a few days warm enough to tempt me to make a salad. I'm one of those who looks askance at salads in the cooler months. We're on a warming trend according to the (notoriously erroneous) weatherman, so I took a chance and concocted this from what we had in the house. Nothing very innovative; I'm more of a follower than a leader.

Nice, leafy lettuce with red edges. Sweet little tangerines. Voluptuous avocado. Crisp scallions. Sprightly fresh mint leaves. Savory Dijon vinaigrette. Happy people.