I met an interesting person last night. When gas prices got so high, we started cutting back, and switched to an every other weekend schedule for coming up to Wimberley. However, we had so much fun last weekend, and it flew by so quickly, we ended up feeling that we just didn't get enough of a fix to last us two full weeks. Then there was the fact that the wine bar was hosting another get-together this weekend - this one to celebrate the launch of Terry Thompson-Anderson's new website for Texas foodies. When we heard that there would be free food and music, how could we resist? Her website covers all things gustatory in Texas, from where to find the best cookware shops and cooking schools, to how to locate the best wineries, wine bars, joints and honky-tonks. Of course there are great recipes, and tips on finding Texas food products, but there is even information on how to find a great B&B or boutique hotel. If you live in Texas, have ever lived in Texas, or have even thought about coming to Texas, or if you like wine, or even if you ever eat food, you need to check out her website, www.thetexasfoodandwinegourmet.com.
I had only a slight familiarity with Terry before this event. I had seen her beautiful book, Texas on the Plate, at our own little Wimberley cookery shop, Kiss the Cook. I came very close to buying it, but that was before I became obsessed with cooking and eating locally, and since I already had way too many cookbooks, I talked myself out of it. Hearing that the author herself would actually be at this function gave me the perfect excuse to go back and buy it Saturday morning, then I spent the entire afternoon devouring it, page by provocative page. Although the recipes looked fabulous, and I can't wait to try them, they weren't the hook that pulled me in. As I said, I have way too many cookbooks, and am about to undertake a major purge, donating all but a handful that have stood the test of time. Which ones will avoid expulsion? The ones that tell a story. The ones that transport me to another place or culture, and make me want to be a part of it so badly that I must cook the recipes and eat the food, just so that I can immerse myself even further. John hates it when I get one of these books. For instance, when I bought Joie de Vivre by Robert Arbor, we ate nothing but French food for a week or two, and all my sentences began with "Did you know that in France, they..." The same thing happened when I read Under the Tuscan Sun. Do you honestly think Tuscany would have become the hottest travel destination, or that the book would become a hit movie, or that stores everywhere would be filled with Tuscan-themed merchandise, if Frances Mayes hadn't been a lifelong foodie, who ate and cooked her way through Tuscany, describing every bite in mouth-watering detail, and including recipes?
As I sit here staring at my bookshelf, which is directly above my computer, I am shocked to realize that there are only a handful of books I could not bear to part with. First would be Sarah Leah Chase's Nantucket Open-House Cookbook. In her introduction, she said "I have learned how to cook fish so that it summarizes the sea, to arrange tomatoes in alternating splashes of red and orange in tribute to Madaket sunsets, and to seal memories of September in jars of beach plum jam." I guess you could say she had me at hello. I think I would also have to keep Ina Garten's Barefoot in Paris, and probably my whole Heart of the Home/Vineyard Seasons collection of books by Susan Branch, because they did for Martha's Vineyard what Sarah Leah Chase did for Nantucket. I guess that's about it, except of course, for my newest addition, Texas on the Plate.
Terry's book not only tells a story, it tells many, and it has breathtaking, mouthwatering photographs to go with each. Maybe it's not a story she set out to tell, but to me the most interesting one is that of Terry herself. Her jacket bio spoke of membership in the International Association of Culinary Professionals, and Les Dames D'Escoffier International, and lead me to expect one kind of person, but the book painted a different, much more interesting picture. I caught glimpses of the girl growing up in Houston who's reward for spending the day shopping with her mother was lunch at Sakowitz's Sky Terrace, where she always ordered the Shrimp Salad Remoulade. Then I got a glimpse of her as the hell-raising teeny bopper who spent Saturday nights devouring pizza at Valian's Italian Restaurant, across from the old Shamrock Hotel. It showed me that she is a passionate person, who experiences life through her palate, and is happiest whenever she and her husband manage to sneak away to Rockport. There they set out crab traps whenever possible, and eat the luscious stuff daily. When wade fishing in Matagorda Bay, they have even been known to pry oysters right off of a reef, open them up, and eat them straight from the shells, while standing in the chilly water. On a blustery winter day, just give her a steaming bowl of gumbo, a slice of good French bread and a cold Shiner Bock, and she's a contented woman. Congratulations Terry, you've just been inducted into Becky's Living-the-Good-Life hall of Fame!
And speaking of interesting women, remember Miss Bobby, the little lady who holds court every morning at Cypress Creek Cafe? Well, I had noticed over the past couple of years that there were occasionally seasonal decorations set out on some of the window ledges in the restaurant. What I hadn't noticed was that it was actually just one window ledge - the one in "her booth". That didn't sink in until yesterday, when we were in the adjoining booth, and I heard someone say "Well Miss Bobby, I see you've got your Valentine's decorations up." How about that? Someone else who, like me, is a devotee of living one's life with seasonality. I knew there was something special about that lady, the first time I saw her cane, which she had decorated with a big, fancy bow. Now, that's a gal with style! Guess I'd better wrap this up. I'm on my way to the store to look for the most interesting little Valentine's box I can find. I'm going to fill it up with homemade goodies, then I'm going to sneak it up into her window display, along with a card that says "Happy Valentine's, from your Secret Seasonality Elf".
I had only a slight familiarity with Terry before this event. I had seen her beautiful book, Texas on the Plate, at our own little Wimberley cookery shop, Kiss the Cook. I came very close to buying it, but that was before I became obsessed with cooking and eating locally, and since I already had way too many cookbooks, I talked myself out of it. Hearing that the author herself would actually be at this function gave me the perfect excuse to go back and buy it Saturday morning, then I spent the entire afternoon devouring it, page by provocative page. Although the recipes looked fabulous, and I can't wait to try them, they weren't the hook that pulled me in. As I said, I have way too many cookbooks, and am about to undertake a major purge, donating all but a handful that have stood the test of time. Which ones will avoid expulsion? The ones that tell a story. The ones that transport me to another place or culture, and make me want to be a part of it so badly that I must cook the recipes and eat the food, just so that I can immerse myself even further. John hates it when I get one of these books. For instance, when I bought Joie de Vivre by Robert Arbor, we ate nothing but French food for a week or two, and all my sentences began with "Did you know that in France, they..." The same thing happened when I read Under the Tuscan Sun. Do you honestly think Tuscany would have become the hottest travel destination, or that the book would become a hit movie, or that stores everywhere would be filled with Tuscan-themed merchandise, if Frances Mayes hadn't been a lifelong foodie, who ate and cooked her way through Tuscany, describing every bite in mouth-watering detail, and including recipes?
As I sit here staring at my bookshelf, which is directly above my computer, I am shocked to realize that there are only a handful of books I could not bear to part with. First would be Sarah Leah Chase's Nantucket Open-House Cookbook. In her introduction, she said "I have learned how to cook fish so that it summarizes the sea, to arrange tomatoes in alternating splashes of red and orange in tribute to Madaket sunsets, and to seal memories of September in jars of beach plum jam." I guess you could say she had me at hello. I think I would also have to keep Ina Garten's Barefoot in Paris, and probably my whole Heart of the Home/Vineyard Seasons collection of books by Susan Branch, because they did for Martha's Vineyard what Sarah Leah Chase did for Nantucket. I guess that's about it, except of course, for my newest addition, Texas on the Plate.
Terry's book not only tells a story, it tells many, and it has breathtaking, mouthwatering photographs to go with each. Maybe it's not a story she set out to tell, but to me the most interesting one is that of Terry herself. Her jacket bio spoke of membership in the International Association of Culinary Professionals, and Les Dames D'Escoffier International, and lead me to expect one kind of person, but the book painted a different, much more interesting picture. I caught glimpses of the girl growing up in Houston who's reward for spending the day shopping with her mother was lunch at Sakowitz's Sky Terrace, where she always ordered the Shrimp Salad Remoulade. Then I got a glimpse of her as the hell-raising teeny bopper who spent Saturday nights devouring pizza at Valian's Italian Restaurant, across from the old Shamrock Hotel. It showed me that she is a passionate person, who experiences life through her palate, and is happiest whenever she and her husband manage to sneak away to Rockport. There they set out crab traps whenever possible, and eat the luscious stuff daily. When wade fishing in Matagorda Bay, they have even been known to pry oysters right off of a reef, open them up, and eat them straight from the shells, while standing in the chilly water. On a blustery winter day, just give her a steaming bowl of gumbo, a slice of good French bread and a cold Shiner Bock, and she's a contented woman. Congratulations Terry, you've just been inducted into Becky's Living-the-Good-Life hall of Fame!
And speaking of interesting women, remember Miss Bobby, the little lady who holds court every morning at Cypress Creek Cafe? Well, I had noticed over the past couple of years that there were occasionally seasonal decorations set out on some of the window ledges in the restaurant. What I hadn't noticed was that it was actually just one window ledge - the one in "her booth". That didn't sink in until yesterday, when we were in the adjoining booth, and I heard someone say "Well Miss Bobby, I see you've got your Valentine's decorations up." How about that? Someone else who, like me, is a devotee of living one's life with seasonality. I knew there was something special about that lady, the first time I saw her cane, which she had decorated with a big, fancy bow. Now, that's a gal with style! Guess I'd better wrap this up. I'm on my way to the store to look for the most interesting little Valentine's box I can find. I'm going to fill it up with homemade goodies, then I'm going to sneak it up into her window display, along with a card that says "Happy Valentine's, from your Secret Seasonality Elf".
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