Paint the Town Vinaceous

Art and wine often go hand in hand, but not synthesized and fused together in this way. I frequently enjoy a glass of wine after a long day, but find that the reds aren't easy to preserve over a couple of days. 

For a recent textile project, I wanted to work with an antique look from the outset, and aged the appearance of the paper by making a natural dye from tea. As I was letting the paper soak, I looked over at a yet another Cabernet that had turned into an unpleasant vinegary slurry, and got an idea for an experiment. With every new project, artists often face the fear of a blank page. Tinted paper offers great possibilities as an inspired base. Here are the results with my new paintings!

New Art - In The Kitchen

Some new pieces inspired by thinking about the summer that just passed, and the current fall harvest. I like these two paired together. They are now available in my shop.

Superfresh - The Farmer's Market

On Saturday mornings, I've started a new ritual- getting up early, grabbing a coffee to go, and heading over to my local farmer's market at the park near my apartment. The produce is all fresh from upstate New York, and the abundance and color is simply incredible and inspiring. The difference in the freshness cannot be understated.

After getting home, I cooked up some of the eggs with the mushrooms, and experienced a total freshness conversion. Look at these rich colors! I just can't walk by and not buy something at outdoor food markets. A little advice though, as "they" always say, "never go grocery shopping on an empty stomach"!

Some of the bounty I brought home above: bee pollen, strawberries, oyster mushrooms, coral mushrooms, and eggs - all picked or collected earlier that morning.

And above is some of my artwork that my new adventures have inspired. Over these past few warm months, I have done a small series of vegetal pieces. It was good going outside of my old artistic routine, and creating some new works (away from the usual abstractions) invigorated and enlivened by my new routine.

Pickling 101 with the Experts - McClure's

A few weeks ago, my friend and I went back to the Brooklyn Kitchen and finally got to experience that pickle class that I mentioned some time ago. And I learned from the best- the very witty and entertaining, Bob McClure of McClure's Pickles. The McClure family business that originated from Detroit is now selling and making quite an impact in many places throughout the US, including New York. After all, they seem to be featured somewhere in the New York Times just about every two weeks!

Once the class got started, I was in for a real surprise. That night, we would not be making actual cucumber pickles that we are accustomed to getting at diners and delis, but that "pickling" was the overall term for the process of preserving food, like canning (or making jam). In fact, pickling and canning are terms that seem to be used interchangeably, but one is not the other based on the preservative (brine/vinegar) and process (boiling/vacuum packing) used. Or something like that. I'm still not totally clear on the differences, as I was busy taking my photographs.

Tonight, we would be pickling fresh asparagus, and learned that it is of the utmost importance to use the best base product possible. In addition to our vinegar-y brine, we used ginger, black pepper, and red pepper flakes for flavoring. This process definitely appeals to the science nerd in me covering everything from pH levels, basic physics, natural vacuums, timing, and fending off the threat of harmful bacteria.

My friend Layla (also from focaccia class) and I thought this would be another fun and basic food activity. I think it's so interesting to learn these preservation processes that our grandparents did as second nature. They were able to get through rough winters after their garden yielded crops that could not be consumed in time through inventive ways of preserving food. With the advent of tv dinners and fast food, we've gotten away from such old school practices of a bygone era. What's old is new again!

Stayed tuned for our next class which will probably be something simple like making carbonated beverages and natural sodas like rootbeer and sasparilla- I can't quite commit to the pig butchering class just yet.

Easter Egg Art - Pysanky

As you can probably see by my surname, I come from Eastern European roots. In my particular case, those genes run fairly deep on both sides. One side of my family is Polish, and the other is Russian (with a smattering of Irish thrown in for good measure). In our family, there are many traditions and foods that overlap especially when it comes to the holidays. One of these is the decorating of Easter eggs in a folk art manner with a permanent dye and wax-resistant method called psyanky. Natural dyes for solid-colored eggs can be made from beets or onion skins.

This process, steeped in tradition, is very labor-intensive and involves many steps but the result is immensely colorful and rewarding. You have to think backwards starting with the lightest color first (typically the natural color of the eggshell or yellow), and work methodically to the darkest. It’s a ritualistic and meditative artform; meant to be carried out slowly during the entire period of Lent. A few years ago, I taught myself the process, and have been able to whip out several of them in one sitting right before we leave for Easter services.

A large basket holding several different styles and designs of psyanky.

(Photographed in Bucharest, Romania 2007)

My mother's collection consists of eggs that range in size from a robin's egg that I found once as a young girl to enormous ostrich eggs. Every year, her aunt used to decorate eggs professionally using this method. We would all look forward to visiting her and getting to choose one out of her latest creations. Discerning artists will search for eggs without many flaws, typically preferring slightly larger and thicker duck eggs for their smooth surface. I typically just work with regular chicken eggs from the grocery store. Serious egg artists also tell a story with each of their designs. Each color and design holds specific symbolism. The color red symbolizes blood, wheat symbolizes new life, and simple geometric forms that once represented fire, air, and water in more pagan times, now represents the Trinity. Many of the pre-Christian secular symbols have now made a transition in meaning. Back in the "old country", there are even regional styles that can be differentiated from one another through the use of color, symbols, and overall design. They can appear tribal or even Native American in style. At the end of the process, we fill large baskets with the finished eggs and "ethnic" foods like kielbasa.

Part of our tradition also involves saying what is known as a Paschal Greeting to our friends in as many languages as are represented in the room. Over the years, we have become somewhat "fluent" in Greek, Russian, Arabic, and Romanian.

Χριστός Ανέστη!    -     Христос Воскресе!     -     !المسيح قام! حقا قام    -    Hristos a înviat!

A sampling of my own designs over the years. Happy Easter, everyone!

From Focaccia "Destiny" to Focaccia Awesomeness

After much planning and dithering, my friend Layla and I finally took a class on making focaccia at the Meat Hook in Brooklyn. We've tried a few times to register for the popular pickling class, but space for it always sells out very quickly. The focaccia class was also within our price range, so we thought if it's still available when our next payday rolls around, then we'll register. It would be what we laughingly referred to as "focaccia destiny". Would we get in? Yes!

During the day, we both come from the foodie entertainment industry, but couldn't be further removed from the entertainment product or from the actual food itself. Focaccia class was an excuse for our second excursion to this outer-borough vittles outpost (newly merged with the Brooklyn Kitchen Labs from around the corner). My friend and I love coming to this stunningly simple and laid-back atmosphere. It's a food-lover's nirvana without pretense, but with the implication that preparing food at the base level can be a really fun experience. Back in December, we took a much-needed break from Christmas shopping and other holiday pressures, and went to a cabernet-soaked book reading by Julie Powell (as in Julie and Julia)- but more on that event later. 

Back to the class- standing in tonight for the scheduled "bread professor" was the very approachable and zen-like Matt Tilden, founder of Scratch Bread. The outer boroughs of New York City are undergoing an alimentary renaissance. Matt is also very much an active participant in the new culinary movement or wave happening in Brooklyn consisting of food ambassadors who are collectively making a positive impact in trendy neighborhoods like mine. His theory about food is as simple as it gets: the less processed, the better. Get away from the junky, low-quality, mass-produced food generated by corporate food factory giants. Make it yourself. After some personal health setbacks and seeing movies like Food, Inc., I've become much more knowledgeable about what goes on my plate, so I couldn't agree more.

We learned how to make the bread from scratch, and it was surprisingly easy. It was a very sensory experience combined with the hunger-inspiring visuals of the beautiful fresh toppings. While the term "food porn" originates with gorgeous, glossy dishes in the television and media sphere, it could also apply to this hands-on experience.

For toppings, we used sweet red onions, fresh thyme, fresh rosemary, cracked pepper, gray salt (that looked like stars), lemon zest, mustard, parmagiano reggiano, fennel seeds, freshly cut real bacon, and prosciutto. Later at home, I also tried tuna, tomatoes, and mushrooms- with all of these appealing and colorful ingredients, there could be endless variations.

As a whole, we were pretty timid at first. But as the ingredients started to come together into a real photogenic work of art, the "food paparazzi" emerged, and the cameras came out. During class, a case of Brooklyn Lager (naturally- it's also from the neighborhood) arrived for us to help us get through the oven waiting period. At the end of the night, there was the big reveal and we were finally able to sample our delicious creations with pride. My favorite combination was the purple onions with fennel seed, salt, and grated parmagiano.

As I walked back to my apartment after class, I glanced down at my bag of take-home goodies from the night. I thought to myself that people passing me on the street would never guess what's in here: excess raw yeast, some unusual crystalline gray salt, and my ever-expanding, fluffy and active, "dough baby" covered in an olive oil sheen; primed and ready for the oven.

I also realized that I have a new appreciation for the homemade dedication of grandmas and that I learned several things tonight: kneading the dough by hand gives your arms a great workout (leave that electric mixer unplugged), the combination of ingredients makes your winterized hands soft again, and most importantly, there's something about food that does something to people. It brings down the uncomfortable tension of being thrust into a room with strangers, and elevates the spirit of friendliness by immediately putting everyone at ease. At the beginning of the class, everyone was awkward and squirrely. By the end of the night, we were loudly and excitedly exchanging large cubes of freshly baked bread, talking about music and past food experiences, suggesting ingredient combinations for next time, and bidding each other a good night; all with the promise to ourselves of taking another class soon....maybe pickling!

Batches of kombucha.

Digging in!