Pear & Spiced Walnut Tossed Salad with Cranberry Vinaigrette
Makes about six servings

INGREDIENTS
- two firm pears (Anjou or Bosc are best), quartered, cored, and sliced
- about 3/4 cup of coarsely chopped spiced walnuts (recipe below)
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
- about 4 cups assorted lettuces and greens, rinsed and dried
- cranberry vinaigrette (recipe below)

DIRECTIONS
In a large bowl, toss lettuce with a few tablespoons of dressing. Add other ingredients and toss gently, so the pears do no break up. Serve immediately, either plated or in large bowl.

Spiced Walnuts
(These can be made ahead and stored in airtight container for 24 hours; this recipe will yield more than what’s needed for the salad, but these are excellent on their own!)

INGREDIENTS
- 1/2 pound shelled walnuts (or pecans), halved
- 1 teaspoon good quality salt
- 1/4 teaspoon each cayenne pepper, mild chili powder, cinnamon, and freshly grated nutmeg
- 1/2 teaspoon sugar
- 1 teaspoon peanut or olive oil

DIRECTIONS
- Preheat over to 300 degrees.
- Combine salt, spices, and sugar.
- Spread nuts on a cookie sheet and warm them in preheated oven for 3-4 minutes.
- Place warmed nuts in bowl, drizzle with oil and toss, and then add spice mixture and toss again.
- Spread nuts in single layer on cookie sheet and return to oven for 2-3 minutes.
- Remove from oven and let cool to room temperature. (Can be stored for 24 hours or so before serving.)

Cranberry Vinaigrette
INGREDIENTS
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
- 1 teaspoon finely chopped shallots
- 2 tablespoons unsweetened cranberry juice ( I usually just boil a few fresh cranberries to get this)
- 1/4 cup dried cranberries
- salt and pepper to taste

DIRECTIONS
Mix all ingredients together, within an hour or serving the salad.

Enjoy!

Diane

Today is Steve Jobs Day in California. Ever since he died I’ve thought about posting something here about him, on my little blog that I’m not sure makes sense to write and send out into the world. Yet I realize that this blog is a small way for me to follow some of his advice: don’t live someone else’s life, do what you love, and stay foolish.

I am sitting now in front of my MacBook, which is an example of his handiwork. His products are so elegant, and they work so well. For me, his commitment to design and quality is one of the reasons his death is so much of a blow.

He just didn’t settle. This is only one part of who he was, certainly, but it’s what I think of so much now. There is settling and compromise everywhere in modern life, and in technology. What if Steve Jobs could have designed our cities, our transit systems, or our voting machines? Maybe he would have failed at these things, but he would not have settled as we so often do.

So the shoes. I’ve been on a mission in recent years to buy only quality goods, and to buy much less of everything. I think Steve Jobs would have approved. Items I’ve bought in recent years that fit this way of thinking are of course the MacBook and iPhone, but also dishes from Heath Ceramics, made in Sausalito, California; a bed quilt from Denyse Schmidt Quilts, of Bridgeport, Connecticut; and Cordwainer shoes, handmade in Deerfield, New Hampshire. The shoes are expensive but worth it. When I bought the pair pictured here from the two women who make the shoes, Molly Grant and Sara Mathews – at a San Francisco Crafts Show in 2010 – Molly said with Jobs-like confidence, “these will be the most comfortable shoes you have ever worn.” It’s entirely true. I wear them all the time.

I am grateful to be in a financial position that allows me to make these choices, but focusing on quality and simplicity doesn’t have to cost more. I challenge anyone to find a better way to make coffee than with a stovetop Melitta. It’s what I use every day. I think it costs about fifteen dollars. I’ve had my Melitta for more than twenty years.

This weekend I leafed through a People magazine at the gym and saw photos of Steve Jobs’ home, now with piles of flowers surrounding it, and lovely pictures of him with his wife and children. It made me cry all over again.

There’s a quote in the story that I had not seen before, from Paul McCartney. Paul once said to Steve Jobs that he must be extremely proud of what he had done. Jobs agreed but said he was even prouder of what he had not done.

Well said. Well done. No settling.

1. Talk less, listen more. I wish I could remember who shared this with me as “the four-word MBA.”  It’s incredibly good advice.

2. Make priorities. One of the best CEOs I ever worked for once said in an employee meeting, “here are the three things we’re focused on this year. If anyone asked you to do something else, call me.” Homemade signs listing those three things started showing up all over the place. It was just great. We had a really good year.

3. Beware false urgency. An early boss of mine had these words in a framed wall hanging in her office. I think of it all the time.

4. Beware the bias toward complexity. You may have heard of Occam’s razor - it’s the theory that the simplest solution is usually the correct solution. Much of business is infected with the idea that anything that is important is complex — that more complex processes are better, more complex PowerPoint presentations are better, and so on. Question this and you will often be glad that you did.

5. Know who does the actual work; bond with them. So one day, long before the Internet, I was working in San Francisco after a two-year career stint in Washington, DC. We urgently needed to get a copy of proposed federal legislation about our business for our executive team. My boss said we should both make calls and get that bill ASAP. He called the head of our trade association in Washington; I called a “runner,” someone who frequently went to and fro to various government offices in DC, picking up and delivering documents. Guess who got the bill first?

6. Talk frequently with those you disagree with.  Good grief I wish I had done more of this throughout my career — it’s so easy to snuggle into a corner with everyone who agrees with you. Much tougher to listen carefully to those who see the world differently and are often right.

7.  Build the right habits. Stay with me on this one: a retired U.S. Marine, now a yoga teacher, said this to me a few years ago, and it has stayed with me:  “Do a few things every day you are proud of. Don’t do anything you won’t be proud of when you look back on it. Line up enough of those days, and you won’t have a self-esteem problem. You’ll be more than okay with yourself.”

Until next time.

You make coffee and shower but you don’t wash your hair because you’re going to get a haircut today in San Francisco. You look forward to a leisurely morning drive through Sonoma and Marin counties; the sky, the rolling hills and oak trees will be especially lovely in the September light.

You are relaxed and smug as only a freelancer can be when there is plenty of work that allows for days off like today. You have updated your voice mail message: “This is Diane Olberg. Thank you for calling. For Tuesday, September 11, I will be out of the office but will be checking messages from time to time …”

You’re covered. You feel free to ramble through San Francisco for the day. A crab louis for lunch at The Tadich Grill would be nice. You plan on that.

The phone rings around 6 a.m., but that’s not really unusual. It could be Nick from Florida, in treatment again for heroin, a frequent caller, or an East Coast client. Your people know you are usually up by now.

But the phone shows that it’s Charlotte, your eldest sister from Anacortes, Washington. This is also not a surprise. She could be calling for all sorts of reasons — a recipe, an address, a question about Christmas.

You pick up the phone.

“Do you have the television on?” she asks. “Of course not. I never watch TV in the morning,” you say, and you think ‘and I don’t like people who do.’

“You need to turn it on,” she says. “There’s been an accident in New York. A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center.”

Okay, and I care because why? In that last moment in the first universe, you don’t understand at all. Instead you’re just irritated, your calm morning interrupted.

But Charlotte rarely calls in this way, so you turn your television on. You sit down in your bathrobe with a cup of coffee. You join all the witnesses, and the first universe ends.

The images do not seem real. You have been in the World Trade Center. You have gotten in and out of taxi cabs there and clicked up those steps in fine Italian shoes. You have ridden in its sleek elevators. You have held meetings there with the people of Wall Street, after alphabetizing their name tags and placing them in neat rows at a clean reception table, in a glassy room that overlooked the city.

You see all of this at once as you move into the next universe. Then and now.

The strange facts unfold about other planes, other crashes, and then the towers collapse. The events look billowy and soft on your television but you know they are not.

You think of who you know there, who needs to be called. What is Jeanne’s married name? What about Jeep and Carol? What about Brian? Who else is there now? Who?

How many dead?

Time passes in slow motion in an erie stillness. The cats come in and curl up next to you. You make some calls to New York but hear only first-universe voices, pre-recorded.

At 8 a.m. you call the hair salon and offer to come or not come. The voice at the other end is gracious and kind. She’s unsure, too, but says you should come. What else would make sense, thousands of miles away?

You get in your car and start driving to San Francisco, but the salon calls. The police are shutting down Union Square; the salon is closing and everyone is going home.

You think back to the 1960s, to getting under desks and practicing safety drills to prepare for a nuclear attack. As if desks or drills could help then or now.

You are driving south and nearing the Golden Gate Bridge, a glorious target. Where do you go now, in the new universe of targets and fear?

You turn west and drive to the San Francisco Zen Center’s Green Gulch Compound, in the soft Marin hills above Muir Beach. The rambling grounds are still, misty and almost empty. You ask the two people in the office if you can go into the meditation hall. You are crying, and they are not. They say yes, and you go in and sit alone in the cool dampness, with crossed legs, on a black cushion, with your hands and head just so.

Unlike a few hours before, in the first universe, this is not meditation at all.

First, with gracious permission from Anna Thomas – cookbook author, screenwriter, and more — I present the best cornbread recipe in the world, from Thomas’s 1972 classic, The Vegetarian Epicure.

The Vegetarian Epicure Corn Bread
1 and 1/4 cups unbleached white flour
3/4 cup whole-grain corn meal (medium grind is best)
4 tablespoons sugar
5 teaspoons (yes, that’s five) baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons melted butter (slightly cooled)

Sift together dry ingredients. Beat the egg with the milk, and add to to the flour mixture, with the melted butter. Stir everything well. Spread batter in a buttered 8 or 9-in pie dish or square baking pan. Bake in a preheated 375-degree oven for about 30-35 minutes. Serve warm, with butter.  Unbelievable.

Second, for those of you who are looking for yet another kitchen appliance, I can’t recommend highly enough the Retsel Mil-Rite(TM) grain mill. My sister Charlotte has had one for more than 30 years. If you have access to wheat berries, dried corn, etc., you can make the best breads ever by grinding fresh flours and cornmeal. The mill is incredibly easy to use.  Retsel is a US company, and its products are made domestically. (Charlotte, please comment!)

Finally, several readers pointed out that I should mention the demise of real corn, now replaced by genetically modified varieties. Living in Sonoma County, California, I can get fabulous fresh corn, some of heirloom varieties. If you are inclined to grown your own corn next season, visit online the many resources for heirloom seeds, such as Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Baker Creek has retail locations in Petaluma, California, Marshfield, Missouri, and Wethersfield Connecticut.

To learn more about the demise of corn, read just about anything by Michael Pollan, such as Omnivore’s Dilemma, a disturbing and wonderful book.

Until next time.

Author’s note: I have no financial interest or association with any of the companies or products mentioned in this blog.

Pretty much everybody: Grill it (which, just so you know, is really a way to steam the corn in its husk; if you de-husk corn entirely, you can wrap the ears in foil for same effect, but I prefer husks-on for grilling; aluminum gives me the creeps).

From Tony Najiola, of New Orleans, the wonderful chef at Central Market in Petaluma: “That’s easy, you boil it in the water you’ve used to cook the crayfish …. the corn will then give you that lip-numbing burn from the cayenne… ”

From another chef: Get good, fresh corn and don’t overcook it (boiling or grilling, fine); serve with unsalted butter and lots of black pepper.

From a Minnesota cousin: microwave it!  (I have never tried this but will.)

From a foodie friend: Blanch it, then grill it, and serve with lime butter.

My approach:  
- Get great fresh corn and husk it.
- Snap ears in half – they will cook more evenly and the portions are better.
- Boil a large amount of water in a heavy pot (cast iron best – will retain heat most effectively).
- Place corn in the boiling water, but don’t crowd the pot too much; add about a half teaspoon of sugar for each full ear of corn, unless you know it’s good and sweet.
- Turn the burner off, cover the pot, and let corn stand in the hot water for about 10-12 minutes.
- Drain, grill slightly, if desired (I usually don’t because it dries out the corn a bit).
- Serve with butter of your choice (I like plain unsalted, but lime butter I will try very soon).

A few noteworthy, not-fresh corn recipes:

Smoky corn chowder – from Real Simple magazine – this is so unbelievable good – I’ve made it with fresh corn or frozen.

Zucchini corn bread – from Bon Apetit magazine – the recipe recommends using a loaf pan but I used a regular square pan – skip zucchini slices on top, which are pointless and affect baking.

Dona Tomas Corn Pudding, recommended by my dear friend and fabulous cook, Sandy Reed. She used light evaporated milk instead of cream and said it was fabulous.

[Note to purists: There is no ode here; duly noted.]

Three years ago I finally traveled to Norway with a friend from Chicago. We scheduled the trip so that we could be in Oslo for syttende mai, May 17, Constitution Day, Norway’s most important national holiday. The year we visited, in 2008, was the coldest May 17 in 50 years.

Hotel Bristol, May 17, 2008

For our visit we stayed at the Hotel Bristol in the center of town, the place to be for the holiday, it seemed. We came downstairs on that holiday morning to a crowd of festively dressed locals and tourists gathering in the open first floor of the hotel. We enjoyed a breakfast of unbelievable breads, cured fish of all kinds, fresh cheeses and more. Then we went outside to the cold.

The centerpiece of festivities throughout Norway on Constitution Day are children’s parades, with each school group walking together down city streets. Many come in traditional costumes, Norwegian or immigrant. In recent years Norway has welcomed many foreigners – from Poland, Iraq, Pakistan, Somali, Vietnam, and elsewhere. While Norwegian children dominated the parade, there were others too, and they all seemed relaxed and unafraid.

Constitution Day Parade, Oslo, 2008

We watched the parade huddled in the cold with friendly crowds. We laughed with one middle-aged couple as they helped redirect a small group of medical students who were marching the wrong way in the parade. “Oh dear,” the man said in perfect English. “Our future is in their hands!”  We laughed and felt entirely welcomed.

Norway impressed me as a country of palpable wholesomeness, openness, and generosity. The events of last week seem impossible but not so. My heart goes out to all of Norway today.

From Time magazine this week. “In travel guides, Norway is often described as the most beautiful place on the planet, a tiny nation of 4.8 million with an enormous country of natural beauty, icy mountains and deep, dark fjords, northern lights and the midnight sun. As they come to count their losses in the bitter days and months ahead, Norwegians will long for a more innocent past. Utoeya is now a symbol of what has changed, says Prime Minister Stoltenberg: “A paradise island has been transformed into a hell.”

So here’s the problem: I’d like to stay healthy for another 40,000 miles, or even more, and Diane and I would like advice from the larger world of car lovers on how to make sure we can do that. Will we have to worry about passing California smog tests, for example? What’s a reasonable life expectancy for a cared-for engine and car frame? Should I do anything special to protect the aging body of the car?

Some not-under-the-hood repairs are becoming insanely expensive, too, and I do have my pride. The driver-side door lock no longer works, and the dealership wanted $1,000 to fix it.  (The lock no longer works with the key – Diane has to use the remote.) And the glovebox is now closed permanently because the latch broke off, and the dealership wanted $1,000 (such a nice, round number) to repair it. If I can find one from a salvage yard, I’ve found people who will install it  for a minor charge. Thoughts, anyone?

And then there is all that wearing soft rubber all around my exterior – some of it looks pretty shabby. Should I worry about this? Leaks? Advice?

Diane is the kind of person who takes pride in buying quality stuff and taking care of it for as long as possible. I’m really happy about that. We hope you can help us to get to 250,000 miles or more.  Would love that.

People see their personal power in one of two ways, this woman said. Some people see it as a set of sticks they are given at birth, a finite resource that needs to be protected, and reinforced by taking sticks away from other people whenever possible. Sharing power and collaborating would mean giving away some of their sticks, which would make these people feel vulnerable and less important, and very protective of the sticks that remain.

Other people, however, see their personal power as a natural spring of water, a resource that can be drawn from freely and shared generously because it will always renew itself and offer more. It is alive and endless.

In the traditional story, the woman said, the protectors of sticks were men and those who shared power freely were women. “It’s okay to change these stories, though,” she said. “It seems many women nowadays are born with those sticks.”

How true.

Beams to all the men and women who are empowered by the spring, and share its power freely!

By the time I took up scuba diving, I had been a lifeguard and swimming instructor for several years, first at my high school and later in college, at UC Berkeley. I worked poolside with some stellar athletes, which I was not. What we all knew, however, is that athleticism has almost nothing to do with survival in the water.

I decided to write this preachy little post because, as high summer is upon us, I can think of five adults in my circle of friends and family who have died in the water: one drowned in a triathalon, two died scuba diving, one was taken out to sea by a rouge wave, and another was found floating in a hotel swimming pool. These deaths took place over several decades but still. These were adults, not children, who are usually given a higher level of supervision near the water.

People can die in the water in minutes, both adults and children. It happens when someone dives into too-shallow water, or is accidentally kicked in the chest in a crowded lake. It happens when people fall out of boats in rough seas or go scuba diving with equipment that malfunctions or simply falls out of reach.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone ballistic when people going out on the water — in a sailboat or canoe — tell me that they aren’t worried about life jackets. “It’s okay,” they say. “I’m a good swimmer.”

Just this week, two experienced hikers in Yosemite died in raging waters. My heart goes out to their families and loved ones. It happens so fast and so easily.

According to the US Centers for Disease Control (CDC), about ten people die every day in the US from unintentional drowning. On average, two of those ten are children, and the rest are adults. Check this link (to the CDC) for more information.

I know, I know, quit raving on like Cassandra. In the end she was right, though.

I still love the water and swim often. I swam today.

Happy summer. Just be careful out there.