Thanksgiving prep

The market today was filled with people shopping for Thanksgiving foods. Sarah considers a thorough walk through the market part of "work," which is a great perk. I picked up two beautiful white rose potatoes, each weighing about a pound each -- I'll only need to peel one of those bad boys for our turkey day à deux. I got a dozen large Hog Island oysters for my stuffing -- a new version this year, from John Besh out of this month's Food and Wine magazine. Actually, the vendor gave me 13, "since you're in the business," because I chatted him up about the oil spill and mentioned that my brother captains a crab boat. I got a pint of frozen apple cider which served as the ice pack to keep my oysters cold; it'll become a hot beverage over the holiday weekend, with cinnamon and a dollop of that special Irish whiskey that Sandra brought us, the last time she was here.

I worked in the office for a couple of hours, finishing the mailing and beginning the "confirmation package" that we'll send out to chefs, once their responses come pouring in. And they will, Sarah assures me: she did this job last year and found that there's lots of interest in the Market to Table program. 

My mom and her friends Joan and Rich took the Vallejo ferry today, and I skipped out a little bit early to join them. We walked the market again, and just as on Saturday, the eucalyptus wreaths from Devoto were sold out. I'll have to get a jump on it on Saturday, assuming they'll be available again. My mother balked at using organic apples for the pies she'll be making for Thanksgiving. "Baking them will kill anything bad," she reasoned. I bought them for her despite her objections. It's all a learning experience: "organic" means so much more than "pesticide-free." At lunch, she ordered a big salad, then mentioned how difficult it is to purchase salad greens for one. There's another reason to shop the farmer's market: big bins filled with cleaned greens, and you only buy what you need. Arugula came home with me.

We ate at MarketBar, at the south end of the Ferry Building. Joan started lunch out on the right foot by perusing the menu and saying, "Pinot Grigio. That's a wine I've always wanted to try." Her husband said, "We drank that wine in Italy." "Well, then," she replied, "It's time to try it again." She and I both had the meatballs: two juicy meatballs atop creamy, cheesy polenta, topped with a generous spoonful of oniony tomato sauce. Perfect size. Perfect flavors.

While waiting for our respective ferries, we strolled the inside market. Outside of the Cowgirl Creamery store, Mom said, "I wonder if they have that "m" cheese that I really like." Manchego, and yes. I picked up some creme fraiche (to go in mashed sweet potatoes with chipotles), and a hunk of Stilton, because it's David's favorite.

And of course we had to stop at the Ciao Bella gelato stand. Pistachio, and fig with crystallized ginger. Life is good.