happelsauce

Dear Happelsauce,

You were born Happeltizer on February 27, 2009 in Park Slope, Brooklyn at 7:14pm, all lowercase letters and love. Now, exactly one year later, you continue to light up my life.

From Brooklyn to Barcelona to Belmont to the Bay. From fond farewells to good luck charms. And, of course, from “tizer” to “sauce.” You’ve come a long way, baby. Honestly, I can’t imagine my life without you.

So, Happy Birthday!! May this next year be even better than the last…

Love always,

ANH

P.S.  In typical Saturday morning style, I paid a visit to the Noe Valley Farmers Market. This time I brought my camera to capture a few birthday memories before making off with my goods. When I got home, I whipped up a salad (fresh greens, pear, blackberries*, toasted pumpkin seeds and crumbled Blue Valdeon cheese), took more photos and toasted to you! After all, every post deserves a photo. And a birthday post deserves the best.

*The blackberries were a splurge. I know it’s not berry season, but they sounded so delish and Whole Foods had samples and I couldn’t resist.  The blackberries came from Mexico. Not exactly local, but better than the blueberries from New Zealand – that’s one giant carbon footprint for a littleittybitty berry.

I walk from my apartment in Noe Valley into the Mission almost every day. It is on the streets, ValenciaFolsomMissionTreatCapp, where I inevitably overhear conversations in Spanish – on cell phones, between friends, greetings yelled across the street. I get a tiny rush when I understand what’s being said, as if a miniature trapdoor in my brain swings wide open, surging with memory flow. I love listening – pressing pause on my iPod if need be. The word “ahorita,” which means “right now at this very second,” makes me smile. So do the panaderias with their glass display windows piled high with sweet rolls and breads, the rows upon rows of colorful sidewalk produce, the regal trees that line 24th Street, and La Raza radio beats pouring out of car stereos.

If a fruit or vegetable were selected to represent the Mission, I’d have to argue that it should be the avocado. (Lime coming in a close second.) Avocados are always cheap, abundant and ohhhsotasty. I think the Mission needs representation. A mascot or a symbol, perhaps a flag. Not an avocado flag. Something even better, so neighbors can clearly express love for their unique hood. Display it in shop windows, on t-shirts, bags, hats, car antennae and back alley brick walls. Unir el Amor.

I hadn’t taken a good look of the Mexican flag until recently. If you ask me, it’s quite badass. The coat of arms features a fierce-looking eagle with a snake in its talon and mouth, perched atop a flowering cactus. Really. If someone more artistically inclined than me were to combine the Mexican bandera with elements of the California flag (maybe the Mexican eagle perched atop the California bear in a friendly, symbiotic way) and tossed in colors from other Mission communities – GuatemalanChineseBolivian, it could represent the Mission quite well. Swap the cactus out for an avocado tree and we’re really in business. Yes yes. I like the sound of this.

The avocado. Symbol of the Mission. Beacon of deliciousness. Amazing on toast.

And good toast comes from good bread. I am of the firm belief that there is almost nothing better than fresh-baked bread. There just isn’t. The other day I baked a loaf of Jim Lahey’s No-Knead Whole Wheat Bread. It’s the only bread in my repertoire. I keep meaning to branch out and try new recipes but this one is just too simple and good. A 6 year-old could make this loaf. Truly. There is no excuse not to give it a try.

And once you’ve baked your homemade bread, you should celebrate with an avocado toast. It is the most satisfying snack I can think of. Creamy avocado, tart lemon juice, hot pepper flakes and salt on warmheartyhomemadebread. Go ahead! No really, you first. Por favor.

No-Knead Whole Wheat Bread

From The Minimalist – The New York Times

Makes one loaf

2 cups whole wheat flour

1/2 cup whole rye flour

1/2 cup coarse cornmeal

1 teaspoon instant yeast

1 1/2 teaspoons salt (or more if you’re using kosher or sea salt)

1 1/2 cups warm, filtered water

Oil as needed

• Combine flours, cornmeal, yeast and salt in a large bowl. Add 1 1/2 cups water and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest about 4 hours at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.
• Oil a standard loaf pan (8 or 9 inches by 4 inches; nonstick works well). Lightly oil your hands and shape dough into a rough rectangle. Put it in pan, pressing it out to the edges. Brush top with a little more oil. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest 1 hour more.
• Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake bread about 45 minutes. Remove bread from pan and cool on a rack. (It’s important to free the bread from the pan almost immediately, otherwise you’re dealing with a very soggy loaf.)

For Avocado Toast:

• I repeat, let the loaf cool a bit before you attempt to cut a slice. If you are at all like me, this will be extremely difficult. Maybe walk around the block a few times so you don’t rip the crust apart with your bare hands.
• When the loaf has cooled a bit but is still warm, slice off the heel, spread with butter and eat!

• Cut another slice and pop it in the toaster.
• Slice a ripe avocado in half and remove the pit. Scoop the flesh from one half onto toast and spread with a knife.
• Squeeze a bit of fresh lemon juice over the avocado toast, sprinkle with sea salt and red pepper flakes. Buen provecho!

Late night love ballads and beer with friends in the happiest little karaoke nest in all of Japantown.

Cherry trees blooming before my eyes in the February sunshine.

Belly full of Tartine and heart full of love in Dolores Park.

There’s a song called “Edge of Desire” on John Mayer’s latest album, Battle Studies. I cannot get enough of it. This happens to me sometimes, when a particular song sounds like a sample from my soul – tiny droplets from my heart in the shape of microscopic music notes that, when gently transferred to a small glass slide and deciphereddecodeddetermined, are discovered to be simply…a song.

I leave you with the first two stanzas from my latest soul sample. I realize in doing this and not posting the obligatory Valentine’s Day chocolate recipe, I risk seeming a bit dark. The lyrics aren’t exactly rosy. Please understand, dearest Happelsauce reader, that I’ve got nothing but love for you.

Edge of Desire

Young and full of running
Tell me where has that taken me?
Just a great figure eight or a tiny infinity?

Love is really nothing
But a dream that keeps waking me,
For all of my trying
We still end up dying, how can it be?

Last Friday night I sat with friends in the window booth at the Latin American Club. The rain was falling outside and collecting in tiny droplets on the windows, foggy from the warmth of stickysweetpulsing life inside. While we indulged in a couple rounds of the most potent margaritas this side of the border, I hatched my Haitian dinner idea.

Geographically, we’re far away from the island of Hispaniola. Port-au-Prince is 3,290ish miles from that cozy nook on 22nd Street and Valencia in San Francisco. I hoped we could feel closer and a bit more connected to the devastateddetermined country, at least with two of our five senses, if I whipped up some Haitian hotness in the kitchen.

Ellie played the role of my Haitian taste sensation advisor, emailing me her favorite Haitian recipes and enthusiastically answering all of my culinary questions.

“What is pikliz? Is it some sort of salad in a jar? How is it served?” It’s a “so damn delicious” spicy pickled cabbage hot sauce condiment. Haitians eat it with everything. “How do you say it? Is it peek-leez? Or pik-liz?” It’s the former. “Crap. Can I bake the chicken in the toaster oven because our big oven has gone cold and kaput?” Sure! Innovation is the key to Haitian cooking.

Okay, I was learning.

It was a simple meal – chicken, sos pwa (pureed black beans with coconut milk), cornmeal (simple boiled cornmeal seasoned with salt and pepper) and pikliz. I made the pikliz a few days ahead of time so the cabbage, carrots, onion and hot peppers got a good soak in their vinegar bath. The toaster oven chicken that I feared might take twice as long to cook turned out to bake in half the time the recipe called for.  It could have been a drycardboardairplanedinner disaster, but I happened to probe a breast (did I just write that?!) while flipping them over and discovered that the chicken was completely cooked. Done and done early!

I recommend quenching your thirst with a rum inspired cocktail to keep a Caribbean vein running throughout. Before dinner, Katie mixed rum, ginger beer and fresh lime for a round of mean Dark ‘n Stormies. Later, I used the same rum and a little brown sugar to caramelize bananas to go with our ice cream and cookies. Overall a satisfying meal, in both tummy and heart.

So, without further ado, here are the chicken, sos pwa and pikliz recipes for you. Go ahead. Get cookin’! Maybe this Haitian taste sensation will sweep the nation…

Haitian Chicken

Serves 4 – 6

6 chicken breasts (2 1/2 pounds of chicken)

1/3 cup fresh lime juice

2 1/2 tablespoons honey

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 teaspoon paprika

1 tbsp. chili powder

2 tablespoons basil

Pinch of red pepper

2 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon salt

* Arrange chicken in a shallow baking dish.

* Combine remaining ingredients in a small bowl. Pour evenly over chicken.

* Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours.

* Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. *This is when, upon probing, I discovered to my great surprise that the breasts were cooked! Be sure to check your chicken.

* Turn and baste with the juices. Bake until tender, up to 30 more minutes.

* Serve with sos pwa, pikliz and rice or cornmeal.

Sos Pwa

Serves 6 as a side dish

1 pound of dried black beans, soaked

2 cloves garlic, peeled

1 can coconut milk

2 cubes of chicken bullion

salt and pepper to taste

* Boil a 1 pound bag of dried black beans for 1 1/2 hours or until tender

* Once the beans are soft, separate them from the water, but do not toss it. Place the beans into a food processor or a blender along with chicken bullion and garlic cloves. If the mixture seems too thick, add some of the cooking water to make it thinner.

* Heat beans on medium. Add the can of coconut milk while stirring. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Pikliz

Makes 2 quarts of salsa

1/2 head purple (because it’s pretty, green works too) cabbage, shredded in the food processor

2 carrots, peeled and shredded in the food processor

1 onion, thinly sliced

6 hot peppers, halved lengthwise with seeds (Check out the Scoville scale and proceed with caution! Scotch Bonnet, Habanero, Serrano or Jalapeno will work.)

6 whole garlic cloves, peeled

2 teaspoons salt

8 to 10 peppercorns

3 cups white vinegar

* Add all the ingredients except vinegar to a large bowl and toss well to mix. (Use caution handing the peppers! They will burnbabyburn.)

* Place all the vegetables into 2 clean quart-sized glass jars. Pour in enough vinegar to cover the vegetables, tamping them down to remove any air bubbles.

* Store the pikliz in the refrigerator for at least 24 hours before serving. It will keep in the refrigerator for a month or two.

There’s a coffee shop in San Francisco called Philz. Their motto is: “One Cup at a Time.” The coffee counter person individually brews your cup, adding cream and sugar if requested (I get a dash of cream, no sugar) and a sprig of fresh mint.  Nattie, my friend and coffee connoiseur, turned me on to their Philharmonic blend. Phil claims, “The Philharmonic’s delightfully orchestrated warm and balanced tones with harmonious layers of cardamom perform symphonies on the tongues of devoted coffee followers and the adventurous.” Wow Phil, that sounds mind-blowing! And, indeed, it is. It is a hotstrongboldnotbitter cup of joy.

I’m convinced that the secret weapon to this cup of goodness lies in the cardamom.  I’ve been a fan of adding a dash of ground cinnamon to my coffee for a while now, but cardamom is something new. It’s a subtleslightlyspicyfloral addition that elevates a basic cup of coffee to the ethereal.

I would go to Philz everyday if it weren’t for the cost issue. A cup of drip (granted, custom blended and served with a smile) costs at least three dollars. Far from a bargain. So, a few days ago I decided to invest in the necessary coffee supplies and brew my own Philharmonic. I’m tempted to call it my special Happelharmonic blend, but it doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Beans from Blue Bottle Coffee, the very best in the Bay. Half and half from Straus Family Creamery. Ground cardamom from the organic spice section at Whole Foods. And a pretty mug to savor my buzzybrew down to the last drop. It all came together so nicely. I’m not sure if it “performed a symphony on my tongue,” I guess I’d call it more of a “cardamom concerto.” Delicious, nonetheless.

Cardamom Coffee Concerto

Makes 1 mug of strong coffee

1/3 cup of your favorite coffee beans, freshly ground

1/2 – 1 teaspoon good quality ground cardamom

Splash of half and half

Sugar, to taste (optional)

Fresh mint sprig (optional)

• Combine coffee grounds and cardamom and brew coffee however you prefer. I use the filter ($2.99 at Sur La Table) drip method.
• Add a dash of half and half, sugar if you like it sweet, and mint.
• Sip and enjoy!