Celebrate Groundhog Day by Eating French Crepes!

All about crepes. Punxsutawney Phil photo courtesy of groundhog.org.
Other photos by Frog Mom

To celebrate Groundhog Day, you can feast on wild grasses, grasshoppers, flowers and snails like all groundhogs do. Or you can have crêpes for dinner - tough choice but justified historically. Here's a bit of history before a recipe and flipping tips to satisfy and impress the young crowds.

For not-so-obscure reasons, Groundhog Day and the French Crepes Day known as Chandeleur take place on the same day. In fact they dig their roots in the same event, a Christian festival called Candlemas that commemorates the presentation of Jesus to the temple 40 days after his birth. Now, why the crepes? Why Punxsutawney Phil? At first glance, rodents and French desserts are not exactly the best match but start scratching and you'll find some interesting tidbits.

Marking the potential end of winter, February 2nd was already celebrated by the Romans as a rite of purification with a Lupercalia festival - deliciously pagan - where young patricians ran around in bloody goat skins around Rome, lashing away at women to max up their fertility. Imagine the frowns when the Christian church started replacing pagan festivals. In the 5th century, Pope Gelasius 1st would have none of Lupercalia anymore and replaced it with a Christian candle festival  called Candlemas. In honor of the Lord's presentation to the temple, big processions with candles were organized, purification rites were performed and pilgrims came all the way to Rome. To reward them for their long trip, Gelasius fed them flat crepes made with wheat from the previous year's harvest. The round golden shape of the crêpe symbolized the sun and eating the past harvest carried hope for an abundant new harvest.

Many countries have their own version of Candlemas. In France, the food idea stuck around and is now a solid winter ritual to be enjoyed with hard cider. In the US, the celebration of Groundhog Day began with Pennsylvania's earliest settlers who brought with them the legend of Candlemas Day. According to the Germans, on Candlemas Day the Groundhog peeps out of his winter quarters and if he sees his shadow he pops back for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate. "For as the sun shines on Candlemas Day, so far will the snow swirl in May..." There, groundhogs and crepes reconciled. While Northern America awaits for Punxsutawney Phil's shadow (or not), the Gallic nation gathers around the kitchen at dinnertime and people take turns flipping savory buckwheat and sweet wheat crêpes for dinner.

Enough of the boring stuff. Let's eat!

Crepe. Photo by Frog Mom

Crêpes Recipe
(adapted from Martha Stewart Living)

• 1 3/4 cup all purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups whole milk
• 1 cup water
• 3 eggs
• grated rind of a lemon
• 2 oz melted butter

Basically, you simply mix all the ingredients in a big bowl and refrigerate the batter until it's cold. I usually prepare mine before dinner so I can flip the pancakes for dessert. 30 minutes to a couple hours is good.

Note 1: no sugar in this recipe. You can eat the crepes sweet or savory.
Note 2 - Buckwheat version: substitute 3/4 cup buckwheat flour to the 3/4 cup all purpose flour and add an additional cup of water.

Flipping it! Photo by Frog Kid #1

Flip it!
Show time folks! When you've got a pint-size audience ready for some tricks, watching someone else flip the crêpe is half the fun of eating it.

First, you got to get a non-stick crêpe pan. Cuisinart makes a 10-inch crepe pan that's very nice and Le Creuset makes a cast iron pan that's dang heavy and requires wrestling-quality biceps if you're gonna flip anything. I got my pan in France (Tefal brand, available at any Monoprix store) and it's delightfully light.

Before I get in flipping mode, I start with an announcement such as "People of this kitchen, hear hear! The time for flipping has arrived and the grand master of ceremonies is ready." If anything, it distracts the youngsters and my girls usually react by stopping any bickering over who gets the first. If you've got a minimum of stage craft, there's definitely potential for a good show.

The Cuisinart crepe pan

Now step back, stand on your two feet, hold the pan in two hands low and give a quick and energetic flick of the wrist. Up the crêpe goes high in the air! Catch it before the cat does. To begin, a simple flip is enough. All you need to achieve is getting the crepe on the other side.

With a little experience you can do double, triple and quadruple flips. Your ceiling's the limit! And the floor too if you miss. I gather anyone reasonably good at catching a ball is good at flipping crepes.

How do you eat your crêpes?
My girls like theirs sprinkled with sugar, rolled tightly and cut in two. Sometimes they like to take them to school as recess snacks. I like mine spread with a berry preserve or honey and rolled. Some people like theirs with Nutella and folded in four. The savories are delish with ham and cheese. There's no wrong way to eat a crêpe and the good news is - you can keep them in the fridge for a couple days.

What's your favorite way to eat a crêpe? 

Wine country weekend: Archer Taylor Preserve, Bouchon Bakery and Coppola Winery

Sonoma winery, Hollywood meets Disneyland. Photo by Frog Mom

This wouldn't be California without a winery with three swimming pools where customers sip chardonnay at the pool café listening to live Vegas tunes before visiting the museum filled with Hollywood memorabilia while kids relax post-swim in a "kid library" tee-pee with a view on Sonoma green rolling hills. This wouldn't be Napa either without a stop at the bakery of a Michelin-starred restaurant that sells awesome chocolate tarts and only-in-Napa foie gras dog biscuits to enjoy at the outdoors patio. The biggest surprise though, was a redwood forest on a hilltop with a trail leading to a milky waterfall in Napa.

I swear, we initially planned to do a weekend of hiking and camping in Napa. Somehow, things took a different turn but the kids didn't complain. They love swimming.

Devils Well Falls. Photo by C.G.

Archer Taylor Natural Preserve
High in the hills above the city of Napa on the western side, Archer Taylor Preserve starts at the end of a dirt road and dives deep into redwood territory. While I knew about the mountainous side of Napa (try Mt St Helena for a good workout!), I had no idea redwoods could thrive this far inland.

On Saturday a dozen adults and kids got ready and hopped in cars to reach the trail head at the end of Redwood Road, trail head where the kids begged us to stay because of a massive trampoline and two goats grazing around picnic tables. One of them was a "unigoat," a goat with only one horn. We promised to spend some time after the hike.

Redwood Creek. Photo by C.G.

The hike itself was short and sweet on moderately steep terrain down to the creek, then mostly level and gradually up to the falls. Since there is no clear trail map at the parking area, we wouldn't have been able to find our way without a friend of ours who knows the trails and led the way.

Our loop to the lower Devils Well Falls was probably a 2-mile loop. For more exploration, other hikers report they can scramble up the lower falls to a second and third level of falls in a canyon. Not sure how that works with little kids so better stick to the easier lower falls.

 At the end of the hike, we stopped at the trampoline and enjoyed some bouncing time before heading out and camping by Redwood Creek in the backyard of this friend.

Note: access to the waterfall is on private property of the Land Trust of Napa County and to come here you need to join a guided tour or obtain permission to hike on the Preserve by contacting caretakers Bill Albrecht and Anne Ledvina at least 24 hours in advance at 707-254-0996 or by e-mailing.

The 10am line at Bouchon Bakery. Photo by Frog Mom

Bouchon Bakery
"If there's a line out the door, it's a good sign" says my dad, who always gauges a restaurant by how busy the waiters are. If that holds up in Napa, Bouchon Bakery in Yountville deserves its 4.5 stars on Yelp and a place in the pantheon of gourmet bakeries.

Tipped off by a friend, we showed up at 10am on a sunny Sunday with 5 kids and 4 adults in dire need of breakfast. The line already extended around the bakery - ominous sign!

Hungry yet? Photo by C.G.

On this quiet posh strip of the Napa Valley, the famous French Laundry is only a few doors down the street and Bouchon Bistro right next door, a total of 4 Michelin stars for celebrated chef Thomas Keller who owns them both. There was no way we were missing out on Bouchon Bakery croissants despite the 40-minute line.

So the kids sat at the outdoors patio tables while we adults mused on what we'd get once inside - the line is not only long, it is slow. "I want to mortgage my house for this croissant!" said my friend Kazz who was daydreaming on the Michelin-starred treats. I suggested a Pinot-infused strawberry compote turnover if there was one but there wasn't one.

Buns, croissants, PB sandwiches. Photo by C.G.

While we all fantasized on extravagant Napa takes on classic bakery items, the line slowly made its way and we were faced with the impossible choice: what's for breakfast?

We picked a chocolate almond croissant and strawberry almond croissant for me, epi bread crown for my 2nd grader, chocolate croissant for my kindergartner, pain aux raisins and almond croissant for my husband. Others also picked a smoked turkey sandwich (that was a ravenous kindergartner), the bread butter pudding and the peanut butter cream filled cookie. Overall, we were happy but the chocolate almond croissant was just too heavy - it needed a lighter texture.

Fit for royal pooches. Photo by C.G.

As for the extravagant Napa take, the one item that  wins the cake  was the foie gras dog biscuit. Now that was over the top, even if I actually regretted not buying one for myself at lunch time. In the pastries department, all were utterly delicious. The chocolate bouchons that give their name to the bakery are totally worth the line, as are the rhubarb-strawberry macarons.

Info: 6528 Washington Street, Yountville. Phone: 707.944.2253

Francis Ford Coppola Winery
Last on the agenda for a real wine country experience, a winery! I heard about the new Francis Ford Coppola Winery last year and wanted to visit it but not for wino reasons: it has three swimming pools, bocce ball courts, live music, pool side eating and a Coppola museum. That's something my kids can live with.

The reason the winery's so popular. Photo by Frog Mom

Located in Geyserville right off 101, the winery is smack at the entrance of the Alexander Valley. We arrived around noon and snatched the last pool passes available. From the Yelp reviews I've read, people line up at the gates on weekends, run to secure a poolside chair and send their friends to buy pool passes. Our experience, on the reverse, was pretty chill. We just walked up to the main desk, bought our passes, got paper wrist bands and were handed plush terry towels for the pool as well as free combination locks for the locker rooms.

Pool café  Photo Coppola Winery.

At $15 per adult and $10 per kid, it's a better deal than flying to the Mandala Bay for the day and lifeguards guarantee there are no drunken idiots messing around the pool. For that price, you get to enjoy a full day of Sonoma summer sun, clean pools and live music on weekends. The pool capacity is topped at 184 people but lots of guests just lay their towel down and go wine tasting. Kids can swim their hearts out!

Since picnicking is not allowed, the grounds are super clean (no bags of Cheetos flying around, thank you) but obviously when you're hungry, you need to buy food there. Aha. Which we did. Our kids asked for seconds of the Pizza Luigino, a simple tomato pizza with mozzarella. Delivered directly to our towel on the lawn, it tasted surprisingly good.

Tucker and Godfather props. Photo by C.G.

A pitcher of rosé on ice for the grown-ups makes a refreshing pool wine that doesn't club you right away. As for the cabines (cabanas), I really don't see their point. You already have access to free lockers and the cabines are not Las Vegas-style sheltered lounging areas by the pool. They're changing rooms with keys. I say, save $75 and splurge on something else. As in .... a replica of The Godfather desk? I'm kidding.

Dracula, a man of good taste. Photo by C.G.

The museum is the last must-see stop at the winery, a collection of costumes, set items and Academy awards (including typed notes for the award hosts) that will delight movie buffs. From the striking window case with the Dracula bride lace gown and Count Vlad stylized armor, to the Apocalypse Now displays with period off-screen shootage, the first floor is meant to make you drool in awe before you climb to the second floor.

The second floor welcomes you with the desk and armchair of The Godfather, two pieces of furniture that stop everybody in their footsteps before their jaw drops. Past the initial shock, you can drift to the wall of Academy awards - real ones - and walk around the promenade to the last room dedicated to Marie-Antoinette.

Big model boats used in Marie-Antoinette. Photo by C.G.

I find it really cool that despite the "Francis Ford" part of the winery, the father displays his daughter Sofia's work on an equal footing with his. She also has a pizza under her name. What more could a daughter ask?

The last room features two incredible scaled model boats that were paraded on a fireworks background in a battle scene on Versailles' grand canal in the movie Marie-Antoinette. Kids were all over them - understandably and we had to pull them away from these marvelous constructions.

The same room happens to have a nice selection of gifts for children, which helped in the diversion.

We did camp! Photo by Frog Mom

Info: 300 Via Archimedes, Geyserville. Phone: 707-857-1471.

You can never tell what will happen when you go camping in Napa without a reservation. You may end up pitching your tent in someone's backyard, change itinerary and live the high Wine country life for a day. Not a bad way to kick off the summer!

Kids' Birthday Party Idea: The Culinary Dude at In The Kitchen

Aspiring chefs get creative at ITK. Photo by C.G.

For kids who enjoy cooking up a storm, helping out for morning pancakes or evening pizzas, In The Kitchen (ITK) in Sausalito is a dream party place where freedom of cooking is unleashed in its full splendor - something that doesn't happen at home. In my kitchen, my little helpers pitch in but time constraints and an irrational fear of The Big Mess seriously restrict the range of what I let them do.


The Culinary Dude. Photo by C.G.



At ITK, kids prepare and cook a meal from scratch, then get to eat it. It's cooking heaven with a few guidelines. Get this: children even clean up so they can set the table to eat the fruit of their labor. Ever seen that happen at home? 

One of my best friends' 8-year old boy is seriously smitten with cooking and took cooking classses after school at ITK. So naturally for his 8 candles, he decided to celebrate there and threw a Mexican food party. Twelve kids from age 5 to 8 had a ball learning how to hold a knife, cut tomatoes, mash avocadoes, squeeze limes, and cry over the fate of onions. We, the adults, wished we were kids so we could steal some of their food. The cooking smells were taunting our noses but we were brave and watched stoically.

"Don't call me hey!" started Scott Davis a.k.a. The Culinary Dude. Scott is a great guy and knows how to talk to kids. He addresses them as real little people who understand instructions and who are about to become responsible of knives and food, not as nitwits in need of babysitting.

Ingredients on the counter. Photo by C.G.

Scott's philosophy is all about empowering kids in the kitchen and getting them to listen to the adult in charge. His remark had kids raise their brows and giggle but he had their attention all right. "You can call me Dude, the Culinary Dude, or Scott." Kids nodded. That was clear.

With that out of the way, Scott proceeded to explain safety measures for the day since the chosen meal involved a good deal of veggie cutting - hopefully not finger cutting. Mostly the instructions were about safety but since everybody sat in a professional kitchen with a professional chef, hygiene wasn't spared. The no-nos? Well, picking your nose, sneezing in your hands or brushing your hair with your fingers weren't going to work great with touching raw food. With some extreme booger examples, kids all got the idea and were sent off to clean their hands with soap.

Next started the actual cooking prep. The day's ingredients were described, as well as the fate they were going to meet: cutting, mashing, squeezing, baking and frying.


The bridge. Photo by C.G.



So, how you explain kids how to cut a tomato, the notoriously slippery veggie? Scott explained his great trick about forming bridges with your fingers and cutting inside the bridge, sharp blade down and tip pointing out. Even my five-year old got the knack of it and became a seasoned tomato slayer.

The operations involving knives were probably the trickiest of all but the saddest was by far the onion slicing. If you had seen all the kids rushing to the open window to wipe off their onion tears, you would know the sadness. Only my five-year old was beaming because she was the only cold-hearted onion slicer and watched big kids in tears with a slight grin.


Smashing avocados. Photo by C.G.

Next came the avocado smashing with a spatula, a simple task that all performed with great results. How was is that? Any kid likes smashing a soft squishy substance even if it's green, so that was easy. That was for the guacamole, as was the lime squeezing and onion slicing.


Adding herbs, the next logical guacamole step, had a few kids look worried. Greens? Why yes, said Scott, cilantro is part of the recipe and you don't have to like it but you'll need to taste it. There. Eat your greens, kids! And they did at the end, and they all took seconds.


Cooking corn tortillas. Photo by C.G.

To enjoy this, the young ones got to make their own corn tortillas from scratch. I kid you not. They made the dough, rolled balls in betwen their hands, flattened them with their hands and actually took turns frying them over the stove.
Oh the line to fry your own hand-squished tortilla was an impatient one, moving slowly and loaded with great expectations. Were they going to turn brown right away? When was I going to eat them? Frankly, I don't know how the kids refrained from eating while cooking.



Tacos ready to be baked. Photo by C.G.

This party was a real patience test for them because when they got to frying the tortillas, they were still 20 minutes away from eating. The table needed cleaning up and their hands too. Also the tacos needed to be baked crips in the oven.

Everybody took turns brushing their tacos triangles with oil and placing them (rather neatly I must admit) on baking trays. The oven had been pre-warmed and an adult helped put the loaded trays in the oven. Since the meat had been pre-cooked by Scott, all that remained to be done was the cleaning up and table setting.

I've never seen kids so eager to clean up. They must have been starving and drooling over their meal, all proud to have made everything from scratch. Both boys and girls picked up food scraps from the table and off the floor, sponged up the table and brought plates and cups to the table for the Mexican feast.


The Mexican feast. Photo by C.G.

Needless to say, they ate with gusto. Err, there must be a word for children wolfing down a meal. Tomato salsa, guacamole, tacos, tortillas and ground chicken and beef disappeared in their mouths without many words being exchanged. A long silence of satisfaction accompanied their meal, the only noises consisting of spoons clinking on bowls and dishes being passed around. These were happy kids.



The birthday cake! Photo by C.G.

This was not the end of their culinary delight that day, as my friend has skillfully crafted a birthday cake as a stovetop with spaghettis overflowing from a pot and eggs frying in a pan. She had even shaped knobs on the stovetop and surrounded the cake with tiny apples,, strawberries and grapes for good measure next to the sugar overdose. It was great!

When I was seven or eight, my first solo cooking experience was making crepes for my mom when she was visiting a neighbor. I made the dough, filled the pan with oil and right when I was going to fry (deep fry) the crepes, my wrist caught the pan's handle and it fell off the stovetop. I tried to catch it with my hands and fried my hands instead. This is how I learned that pan handles should not be facing towards me when cooking - and that having an adult nearby when using the stove is handy.

Clearly, learning cooking skills with a professional is a lot more fun when you're a kid - and a lot less painful. Hurray for The Culinary Dude and kids cooking their food, safely!

After-School Sweets & Treats

That I have a sweet tooth is an understatement. My Twitter profile has "chocoholic" in it. That my kids like to participate in sugary adventures is nothing short of very true. Particularly after school when they look at me like they haven't been fed in 2 hours. That my husband can't live without his post-espresso treat is a genetic sugar reality. Take my tea-drinker word for it. Since we live in the Bay Area, what do you expect? We love discovering new bakeries, ice cream parlors and chocolatiers to satisfy our sweet tooth cravings. After school seems to be a particularly good time to go out and explore as my girls are ready to follow me anywhere just to eat. Lately, we've been pretty active on the sugar front so I thought I'd share three recent finds. Here's to the after-school explorer in all of us.


Scream Sorbet

5030 Telegraph, Oakland and select farmers markets



The scoop, the real one. Photo by Scream Sorbet



Thanks to my weekly Tasting Table e-newsletter, I discovered the only ice cream shop that I believe rivals Berthillon in Paris. Wherever I go, chocolate is always my number 1 (and 2, and 3) choice. It's rare that I taste another flavor so after all those years of tasting (geez, sounds like centuries!), I know my chocolate ice cream or sorbet.

At Scream Sorbet, I tasted hazelnut chocolate and askinosie chocolate. My kids had hazelnut chocolate and lemon rosemary. My husband tried askonasie chocolate and coconut kale. And we tried all the other flavors just for fun. All I'm sayin' is "wow." I want more! Actually I'll have more because a) there's three pots in my freezer and b) I need to return for the pineapple guava sorbet. It's that yummy. The only thing that's missing is cones. Scoops only come in tiny paper cups. They're not big scoops either. Don't expect the Ben and Jerry's size that feeds a family of five. They're precious scoops that scream for seconds. At the Oakland store, look for the map on the wall that provides the location of all the farms Scream Sorbet partners with to source their ingredients. Locavore, I say.

Dynamo Donuts
2760 24th Street, San Francisco

The whole donut story started for us when my piano teacher treated my girls to a donut at Happy Donuts in Noe Valley. That was last Friday. I'm not a donut fan but watched in awe as throngs of teenagers trickled in after school to get their donut fix. I learned that there were yeast-raised donuts and baking powder-raised donuts. That some are filled with custard, some with jam. Most important, my girls gulped their donut with a smile. This made me seriously reconsider donuts as a non-food item. Here was a huge piece of Americana I could not ignore. There had to be a gourmet donut shop somewhere in San Francisco. I Yelped my query and sure enough, Dynamo Donuts came up at the top of the list.

Photo by Dynamo Donuts

The next school day I took my girls after school. I was giddy with anticipation having read the different flavors on the website: caramel de sel, chocolate rose, candied orange blossom, saffron chocolate, lemon thyme. It was all so intriguing. Too much hype? At the counter, my hopes deflated when I realized there were only three types of donuts left that day: candied orange blossom, apricot cardamom and passion fruit milk chocolate. I took a couple of each to test them at home and the winner was clearly the passion fruit milk chocolate. What a flavor! Moist and light, it was well worth the extra 3 miles I'd have to hike the next weekend. The other two flavors were meh, fine but not worth 3 miles. The drag is that I know I'll have to come back for the one I really wanted all along: chocolate rose.

Miette Patisserie

San Francisco and Oakland

I have mixed feelings about Miette but not about their old-fashioned cupcake. It's delish. I tasted it three years ago. Loved it. Remembered about it last week. Tasted it again. Same taste. Yum. What I love about Miette (I'm talking about the Confiserie here, the one on Octavia) is how pretty everything looks. It's like you just walked into a 50s movie sponsored by 50s Disney. Pastel colors, cathedral-clear lollipops wrapped in shiny cellophane, vintage style candy, walls of glass jars filled with gummy fruits - it's eye candy before it's candy in your belly and it's wonderfully orchestrated. It's also a dream come true for my girls who enter the candy shop with eyes wide as flying saucers. The topiary tree with gumdrop "fruits" makes them drool.



Miette's old-fashioned cupcake.
Photo by Miette

However I've had mixed luck with their baked goods, mostlly macarons and lemon tart, and that kept me away a while. Plus, it's not cheap and I couldn't see myself spending our 401K on a sugar overdose. All that changed last week. I actually spent the 401K on an old-fashioned cupcake. Honestly for a cupcake, it's good. For $3.25 a pop, it better be. Simple and elegant, it could be stronger in chocolate but it's fine as it is. What takes the (cup)cake for me is the icing. I don't know what it's made of but it reminds me of a raw meringue topping my mom made on coconut cakes when I was a kid. When any food brings back good memories of your childhood, it's worth the 401K. So there. Miette is back in my books and I intend to keep tasting.

Hopefully you haven't overdosed on sugar reading this. I was about to write about chocolatiers too but I realized I needed to do some more field testing. Until then, I'll be writing about hikes next. And if you want to follow me on Twitter, it's @frogmomblog.

Wild Greens Walk with forageSF at Golden Gate Park

At home "Eat your greens!" is soon to become "Eat your weeds!" thanks to a walk I went on to with Fred Bove of forageSF. forageSF is a typical San Francisco concept that includes people picking wild foods where they grow (in city parks, people's yards's, anywhere you see weeds you'd like to pull out) to serve them on your plate. Crazy? No. Revolutionary!

I used to think of seasons in terms of planted veggies and fruit, save for the stray August blackberry that I enjoyed as a rare gem. However I did not go out of my way to examine the green underbrush of our hiking trails to supplement our sandwiches or create fancy green casseroles. Now, I may actually change that and look forward to the seasons ... in terms of wild foods.

I first heard about forageSF on the California Report in May 2009. It sounded great. Urban foraging, wild foods coming in CSA boxes, underground dinners. It stayed in the back of my mind until recently when I thought it'd be a great topic for my green parenting column with the San Francisco Examiner.

First I signed up for a Pescatarian Box, the one box in their foraged food CSA that includes locally caught wild fish. I'm getting it next week and I'm quite excited. Then I contacted Iso Rabins founder of forageSF and asked him if I could join their next guided forage. Two days later, I was in front of the South Mill at the Golden Gate Park with a dozen other people, food-savvy urbanites or seasoned cooks like Jerome Waag, Chez Panisse chef and OPENRestaurant project co-founder.

Besides being the former education director for the San Francisco Botanical Garden Society and a permaculture expert, Fred Bové our guide knows his plants inside out. He'll snap a stem open, show you the inside and explain how that confirms that it's not edible. Deadly nightshade can't fool him! If any, this was an indicator we'd make it out alive - the release we signed at the beginning was pure formality. We got started.

First, Fred laid out with the three golden rules of foraging, namely:

• you can't expect anything. It's always a surprise.
• it's a gift from the earth to you
• you need to respect nature and not take everything in sight. If there are three plans, take one and leave two.

Foraging in the winter will give you winter greens. Lots. And mushrooms if it rains but for that you need to find the Mycological Society of San Francisco.

A few feet away from our group, Fred showed a lush green dirt mound.

Without knowing it, we had four edible greens at our feet: oxallis (tastes lemony, the thing that people hate in their backyards), stinging nettles (that Irish people make into ale), chickweed (lush and succulent leaves, blood purifier, great in salad with a mild grassy taste) and Good King Henry (same family as quinoa, diamond-shaped serrated leaves).

Fred's walks are not just botanical excursions. He'll tell you cultural anecdotes on plant uses through the ages, he'll describe how California Ohlones used plants as medicines, he'll share his philosophical thoughts and culinary tips with a zest of humor. "People remove plants that want to live to plant plants that want to die," he said and it's true. Landscaped gardens rarely pay attention the local flora.

On we went and sure enough, other edible greens were paving the way: wild oats growing next to New Zealand spinach. Now, NZ spinach was a discovery for me because I found it relatively easy to identify and later that night, it gave a delicious nutty crunch to our dinner salad. It does look like spinach - in a way - and can be cooked and used as spinach.

To the unavoidable question about dog urine, Fred recommended to always wash wild foods before eating because dog urine doesn't go in the plant but stays on the surface of the leaf.

As we veered right to a dirt trail, fields of miner's lettuce spread before us. Miner's lettuce is very common in California and some fancy restaurants even have it on the menu.

Speaking with the ardor of a gourmet stomach, Fred showed us the heart-shaped young leaf and the blooming adult leaf, raving on what a delicious salad they make with mozzarella, olive oil and sea salt. We all nodded.

There was stinging nettle nearby. One of our group bent down and before anybody could prevent her, she picked a leaf and chewed it raw. We stared, waiting for blood-curling screams. Nothing came. That's how we learned that raw stinging nettle leaves can be picked from underneath, folded like a taco and enjoyed without pain. It's actually the only way to preserve its anti-oxydants. Amazing.

The rest of the walk included some great discoveries like wild sorrel (sorrel's cousin from the hills, full of oxallic acid, lemony taste), mellow (slimy texture similar to okra once cooked), dandelion (leaves are edible, root can be roasted to make coffee substitute called chicoree), more miner's lettuce, nasturtium (whose seeds you can pickle like capers, or whose leaves you can eat, spicy taste like wasabi) and even this bleuet mushroom with a lilac stem (good butter & garlic fry).

Concerning mushrooms, Fred reinforced the fact that you have to be absolutely 100% positive about them. Further down the slope we found some strong smelling wild onions (taste like chive and earth), wild radish (described as prime yummy spring green by Fred), poke salad (berries toxic, root extract used to fight breast cancer, spring shoots edible), acacia (flowers are edible and taste like honey), plantain (seeds very high in proteins) and my favorite of all, the salt bush that tastes like salt.

The silvery leaves tasted so good that I came back later to pick some more for my dinner salad. It reminded me of glasswort (otherwise known as salicornia), this crunchy salty succulent that grows in salt marshes and that I used to pick in Gruissan in the south of France.

The walk was nearing its end and we were in for a surprise. We sat around a picnic table by the windmill and Fred brought out of his car a pot full of sauteed wild greens, pita bread, oxallis memonade (hot and cold), and tabouleh with wild greens. I was not particularly hungry but I came back for more than seconds of the delicious sauteed wild greens. Graciously, Fred handed us a recipe list, a plant list and book references. Sadly it seems there are no proper websites about Bay Area edible wild foods. Too bad, someone should do it. I'd use it!

As Fred said, I wouldn't rely on wild foods for everything I eat but it's a great reminder of nature's bounty and hiddden treasures. Got to find that salt bush and NZ spinach again!

For more info: forageSF's Underground Market will be held on January 28, 2010 from 5-11pm at 199 Capp Street and you can check the next guided forages schedule & tickets here.

Lamotte Beuvron, Home of the Tarte Tatin

Lamotte Beuvron is a small sleepytown sandwiched between Paris and the Loire Valley with a big claim to fame. This is where Stephanie and Caroline Tatin, two sisters who ran the Hotel Tatin, accidentally caramelized apples with butter, shoved them in the oven with the pie crust on top, flipped the cake and served it to a hunting party in 1898. The Tarte Tatin was born and cooks have been making upside-down caramelized cakes since then.

Since we were spending Christmas 20 miles away, we decided to visit Lamotte Beuvron, if only to check the culinary legacy of the Tatin sisters in their native town. Lamotte Beuvron is is surrounded by wooded forests that - sadly - very few hiking trails criss-cross. Forests in Sologne are mostly private and maintained for hunting game. However we found a level 2-mile loop on the outskirts of the town to spend the afternoon. The trail featured wide straight alleys cutting through groves of oak, birch and chestnut trees, some with their naked branches reaching high to thick balls of mistletoe.

After the hike, we drove to the city center to find the famous Tarte Tatin. Our first stop was at the gas station to refill the car.

"So where's the best Tarte Tatin?" my husband asked candidly to the local guy.

"Ah Monsieur, it sure is on the Champs-Elysees!" exclaimed the guy - meaning in Paris. What? So much for town loyalty. The guy wouldn't recommend any local pastry shops. Hmm, some bad blood there. Good thing for him he's the only gas station in town.

Without recommendations, we proceeded downtown. There were four patisseries (pastry shops) in sight. We checked the first one out. There was a nice bike parked next door. We entered. I had the firm intention to gather seldom-heard and vital info on the original tarte Tatin.

To make the questioning easier, I first asked to buy a tarte Tatin for 10.

"What a nice tarte Tatin you make. Do you get your apples around here?" I asked.

"Why yes. We buy them from an apple farmer in the region," answered the woman proudly.

"Interesting. What kind of apples are they?" I continued.

Silence. Frown.

"That I can't tell you. I'm not allowed," she replied earnestly. Dang. The apple variety is classified information in Lamotte Beuvron.

"Oh, I see. Would you be able to just show me the apples please?" I risk.

More frown. She's getting suspicious.

"No I can't do that either. I'm not allowed," says the woman shaking her head.

"It's for my blog. I would really like to see how things are done in Lamotte Beuvron," I try with a sheepish smile.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she asks, already guessing the answer (or suggesting it).

Both my husband and I vigorously shake our heads. No no, we live very far, in America. Pause. Bright smile.

"Then of course you can!" she exclaims.

She goes out back, rummages and returns with three big apples. I'm impressed by their size. Sam, my Californian cousin and gardener extraordinaire, suggests they may be the Belle de Boskoop variety and after looking it, I think he's right.

"Wow!" I say. "These are so big. How many do you use per tart?"

Instantly, the woman's face returns to shadowland. Why don't I get it?

"I really can't tell you that Madame. I'm not allowed by the boss," she says.

Fine. I might as well ask for the ingredients of Coca Cola in Atlanta. After some more skillful chit-chat, I glean business bits and pieces. The patisserie sells 10 Tartes Tatin on regular days, 25 on big-selling days. That's a lot of apples to peel. There's a vacation resort nearby and  the tourists all come for Tarte Tatin. You bet they do. Hopefully they don't all ask the type of apple or how many per tart or the name of the farmer. Because if they do, it's classified info and we don't want any trouble with the townsfolk! In Lamotte Beuvron, Tartes Tatin are really the apple of the people's eyes.

That night we ate the Lamotte Beuvron Tarte Tatin for dessert. Was it good? Sure - on the super-sweet side with firm & slightly tart apples - but if you ask me, Laduree makes a better Tarte Tatin on the Champs Elysees in Paris.

Outstanding In The Field

Mushrooms are my friends. No, not the Haight Ashbury kind. I'm talking porcini, shitake, chanterelles, morels and their numerous cousins.

I just love eating mushrooms. So much so that I recently became a member of the Mycoligical Society of San Francisco. When I read that Outstanding in the Field was going to host a foraging dinner in the Santa Cruz mountains right after Thanksgiving, I jumped right in. I'd read about these gourmet dining events on farm settings for a while, either in Sunset Magazine or in the New York Times.

This is what the founders have to say about them on their website: "Since 1999 we have set the long table at farms or gardens, on mountain tops or in sea caves, on islands or at ranches. Occasionally the table is set indoors: a beautiful refurbished barn, a cool greenhouse or a stately museum."

In a nutshell: a hundred or so foodies get together on a farm and eat the produce from the farm prepared by respected chefs at long communal tables, mingling with perfect strangers who are supposedly kindred spirits. Our event took place between Pescadero and Ano Nuevo SR at Pie Ranch.

It started on an expanse of green grass around 3pm, halfway between the hen house and rows of November strawberries, with a glass of Tempranillo and Grenache Rose from the Santa Cruz Mountain Vineyard. On a camping stove nearby, the chef was sauteeing thin slices of porcini to render them crisp. A pure delight. After rounding up all the guests, our hosts gave us a speech on the ranch and the spirit of the event and we headed up the mountain.

On the trail, we started discussing with others. After all we were newbies (unlike many old timers who complained at how popular the event was) and we didn't know who we'd sitting next to. We actually had a great conversation starter as we had our girls with us. There were only five children for 147 adults. We hooked up with a couple who admired the striped blue sweater our oldest daughter was wearing. "I wish they made the same one in grown up sizes!" she said. Too bad, we replied, it was knitted by my mother-in-law, an artist knitter in Paris.

The view from the top of the hill embraced the Pacific Ocean and white stretches of sand as the sun was setting on the horizon. We could clearly see the dilapidated lighthouse at Ano Nuevo SR, a most mysterious spot that's now called home by sea lions.

After everybody had reached the top, someone gave the signal to go back down. I was disappointed though because I had misunderstood that we'd go foraging for mushrooms. Sigh. No foraging. Back to ... the barn.

It was way too cold to dine under the stars so tables were set at the foot of the hill, under garlands of dried corn and ornamental squashes in the barn. When 150 guests sit at three long tables, you appreciate better the size of the event. Let's eat! The appetizer was a mushroom mussel soup that was too salty for my taste but good otherwise.

Across from us sat the sweater-admiring couple who had driven all the way from Los Angeles for that night. They were both screenwriters for Tinseltown and had worked on thrillers/fantasy films (like the erotic thriller I'm Watching You ) or more recently documentary movies. She was the liveliest person ever and he was super cool.

Next to them sat a lawyer whose daughter followed anthropology studies and with whom we exchanged thoughts on the recent death of Claude Levi-Strauss the great French anthropologist.

I even recommended them Nigel Barley's The Innocent Anthropologist, one of the few books that ever made me laugh out loud.

Another book recommendation came from my screenwriter neighbors and it was The Last of the Really Great Whangwoodles by Julie Andrews (yes, of Mary Poppins fame). They said my girls would love it later.

Meanwhile my girls were scampering outside with a new found friend called Melie under a pitch dark night, chasing each other between cooking stations. As I walked out to check on them, I marvelled at the real whipping cream effort, a culminating point of the fruit pies we would eat later.

I chose persimmon over huckleberry but that was a misguided choice after stealing in my husband's plate. Never mind, it was good nonetheless.

Good but not outstanding. This is actually my main point. The food was very creative (hail to sauteed stinging nettles in the saffron, fennel, prosecco soaked sable fish, bonny doon road stinging nettles, chanterelles & hedgehogs entree) - but it was not super impressive.

Some of it arrived lukewarm or cold and while large serving dishes foster family style dining, nobody exactly knew how small or large their individual helpings should be. It's too bad. I do like the idea of a dinner at a farm.

We've experienced a very pleasant summer evening tasting heirloom tomatoes at Capay Organic Farms two years ago. It was a lot less gourmet (grilled chicken, roasted potatoes, greens from the farm) but a lot more enjoyable.

It may be the fact that we had very high expectations about Outstanding in the Field. The tab was also pretty steep. People say their dinners on warm summer nights in the Napa Valley are heaven, but that late November night, I wanted to be more satisfied.

The only high note was discovering a selection of Bonny Doon wines along the meal. They truly live up to their reputation and brightened up our spirits.

Cake Decorating Class

Last night I went to a cake decorating class in SOMA. The event was organized by the Just For Moms comittee of the Golden Gate Mothers Group and it was great. It took place at Baking Arts in South of Market. Baking Arts is one of a few places that delight baking lovers, including Sugar'n Spice, Tante Marie and of course the demanding and extraordinary California Culinary Academy that almost became my second career last year.

Past the big glass entrance of the loft building on Brannan near the Flower Market, I went up four floors and walked down corridors decorated with abstract paintings before hearing voices. The door was ajar and I got into a professional kitchen with a man surrounded by eight women in apron. Time to get serious.

The teacher, Richard Festen, showed us what we were going to make and take home: a clown cake he created specially for us. None of us really believed we'd make something remotely as nice as his but we all nodded. Plexyglass rolling pin, pairing kife, paintbrush and toothpick. We had everything we needed to get started before birthday season.

Richard explained to us that there are basically three shapes when using fondant to decorate a cake: round balls, pear shapes and logs. What looked simple in the beginning started shaping up with us making noses and smiles, adding arms to the side and making shoes of different colors. Then came a most important moment: covering the cake with a 1/4 inch of white fondant. I've always wondered how pastry chefs get no pleats when covering their cakes. You just press lightly on the sides of the cake and it evens out. It's magic! .

That being completed, all that needed to be done was making round white balls to decorate the sides of the cake (with an extra colored ball to give some spritz to the decoration) and Voila!