Taking the Boat from Positano to Capri
The island of Capri can be reached from a number of places along the Amalfi Coast and takes just over an hour from Positano. The day we went was ideal, warm breezes, lots of sunshine and calm seas. We boated around the island seeing several grottos, all named by colors - white, green and, of course, the famous blue one. We saw the queue of boats waiting to get in to the Blue Grotto and decided to take a pass on that one.
We hired a taxi for the four hours we were going to be on the island and the driver, Massimo, couldn't have been nicer. He took us up to Capri, where we walked the town. Peter and I both dubbed it Rodeo Drive on an island. Every high-end designer has a shop along these cobblestones streets. It's breathtaking - truly.
Lunch was at a small restaurant overlooking Marina Piccolo, and my grilled prawns were delivered to their doors while we were enjoying a glass of vino blanco in the shade staring out at the bluest sea I've ever seen.
Finally, Massimo drove us to Anacapri, the highest point on the island and encouraged us to take the chair lift to the very top. It was only mildly hazy and we could see Mount Vesuvius quite clearly in the distance.
A wonderful day all around and we all were quiet on the boat ride back to Positano, soaking up all we'd seen and watching Capri fade in to the distance.
Photos and Slide Show ©2012 Claudia Ward
Music: Un Signo Di Dio, Christophe Beck from "Under The Tuscan Sun"
Peter and I came to Positano to see what so many postcards show as a picture perfect location on the west coast of Italy. I daydreamed over just such a postcard sitting in a windowless Wall Street cubicle for several years. Friends had traveled here and shared stories of the drama of the roads and the beauty of the landscapes. Now, it's our turn to see it …. but NOT behind a wheel!
Granted the trip here was un-nerving (and a little embarrassing) but we're photographers, i.e. people who take pictures - a lot - and you can't drive the Amalfi Coast and shoot it at the same time - it's an impossibility. So, we got the rental agency in Naples to come collect that mediocre Fiat, and we followed the example of a dear, dear friend … we hired a car to drive us along the coast and in to the hills. We would never have seen so much of the coast and its beauty if we had both been watching the road.
Our driver, whose name is Alex, speaks five languages and is learning Arabic as well. He asked what we wanted to see, made some suggestions and then let us free to photograph and enjoy on our own - perfect. We saw the most amazing views from the terrace of the Hotel San Pietro (the #1 hotel in Europe for the last four years, according to Alex), we were given a tour of a ceramics shop by the owner, we stopped at the Emerald Grotto (more about that later), we spent an hour in the square of Amalfi, and we enjoyed lunch and wine in the mountain village of Ravello. A nearly perfect day … …. ….
The Emerald Grotto is not far from Positano and is easily accessible by elevator. Once at sea-level, entry to the grotto costs 5 Euro per person. You enter the grotto with the Mediterranean lapping at your feet and suddenly you're in the cool darkness of this cave filled with very tall ceilings and filled with a lake of tidal waters. There were very few people here which was one of the attractions - in fact, there were only eight of us in this perfectly rectangular flat-bottomed boat. Our guide was a young, very flirtatious dark-haired Italian who took a liking to the two young American girls he placed in the front seat. We climbed onboard without incident although my camera swung out of my jacket as I tried to climb over the seats we were to sit on, giving me pause. In this darkness and on the water, my camera would be useless, so I packed it more securely inside my jacket and sat back to enjoy the ride.
The grotto is small so the tour was short, despite the young Italian trying to make it longer in order to snag a date, but within about 15-20 minutes we were back where we started. After the Italians in the stern disembarked, it was Peter's turn and as he was bent over climbing over the last seat we heard it … the awful sound of something being dropped in to water. The "driver" thought it was a lens cap … I knew better, so did Peter … it was his brand-new and beloved GoPro and the short tripod it was attached to. Once he got off, Peter turned and could see the camera about two meters underwater. The good news is that it's in a waterproof case, the bad news is waves were cresting the rocks we stood on and a large tour group of about twenty had just queued up to have their turn in the boats in the grotto. I rescued Peter's camera bag which was getting wet on the grotto floor, took the vest he was wearing that held several cameras as well, and exited to the rocky shoreline to wait. I knew Peter wouldn't leave that grotto without the camera and/or one heck-of-a-try.
As I sat just outside the grotto, the seas sent larger and larger waves to the shore and I had to move twice to avoid standing or sitting in water. I knew this didn't bode well for Peter. I had seen two other flat-bottomed boats inside, so I knew that the tours could go on, and I thought this couldn't be the first time this had happened. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time but in fact was only 20 minutes, Peter appeared with a strained smile on his face and GoPro in hand. What were his first words …. ? "Darn, I wish the camera had been on … it was looking straight up at me!" Apparently it had taken 50-60 attempts to capture the camera with a broom and a net that had a large hole in it, but at the end of the day, Peter prevailed … as I knew he would. He later told me he had been prepared to go in and get it if he'd had to … he could see it, he just couldn't reach it, but once again … a happy ending.
Alex returned us to our hotel at about 5:30 p.m. happy and exhausted and knowing we'd never have seen so much on our own, driving and parking along the way. Too tired for dinner downstairs, we enjoyed antipasti in the room and were both sound asleep well before 10:00 p.m.
The Balcony at Hotel Eden Roc in Positano, Italy.
Early Morning Blue Hour from the Balcony, Positano, Italy
Breakfast on the Balcony at Eden Roc
Venice from the Water © 2012 Peter Tooker
After twelve days in Venice, we bid this beautiful city a fond "arividerci" early this morning, taking a water taxi to the stazione for our train to Rome. Mario, the night desk clerk at our locanda, kindly helped us get our luggage down the three flights of stairs (that we will not miss) and around the corner to the Bridge of Sighs where the taxi was waiting for us. How appropriate, as I in fact did sigh as I watched the now familiar city diminish into the distance.
We were pleasantly surprised when we saw the train that would carry us to Rome over the next three and a half to four hours. It was modern, sleek, and very clean, the complete opposite of the train that had brought us to Venice. Our luggage relay was a little rusty after not having been used for almost two weeks, but we persevered. Peter went on ahead with the "big, black monster", a.k.a. his suitcase, and was able to tuck it under a compact luggage rack at the center of the train. He returned to the platform for my suitcase, and I continued to watch over our precious camera cases. Finally the "hand luggage" and I were loaded, and Peter and I found our seats - two facing each other, with a table in between, on the sunny side of the train. We dozed early on and then took in the amazing Tuscan countryside. What I saw outside our window looked just like all of those travel posters and postcards, so they must have been real.
Our transfer in Rome to a train heading for Naples was fairly uneventful. By now, we know that there's very little space for large bags, so time is of the essence when the doors open for boarding. In Rome, our train was late arriving and had passengers who had to disembark before we could get on. Poor Peter was blocked from starting our relay by an American couple who were getting off the train with as much luggage as we have. Finally, once they had cleared the doorway, Peter scrambled on board with bag "in hand" and seemed to disappear for an awfully long time. When he leaped off the other end of the coach, I learned that he'd had to "run a gauntlet" with the "big, black monster", the entire length of the train car to find the luggage racks at the other end chockablock full with small carry-on cases. The owners of these cases looked at their cases and then at Peter's monster, took pity on him, and quickly removed their bags to the overhead bins. We hoisted everything else on board, placed most of it in the racks above our heads, and dropped into our window seats panting, thanking the dear Lord, that we only have to do this one more time.
Now for the driving part of our story ….
In Naples, we rented a car to get us to Positano. Peter fondly remembers driving across Europe and in Italy back in the 70s in a late-60s BMW - loving the speed and hairpin turns. Well the manual Fiat Punto Evo we rented is no BMW! The gear box is soft, the brakes are tight, and the steering is a little sloppy, all things Peter will have to come to terms with over the next several days. As many of you know, the Italians are not long on discipline when it comes to going from Point A to Point B whether in a car, on a scooter, or on foot. Lines on the roads are meaningless, cross walks were created to be ignored, and traffic lights need to be obeyed only if the polizia are watching … or so it seemed to us. The roundabout just outside the train station nearly did us in, but we eventually found our way to the A3 South. Aahhhhh …. a highway. We thought this would be a welcome change to the congested city traffic. Well it quickly became apparent that those on the highway love speed about as much as they cherish their independence. Peter found a comfortable "stride" for this leg of the trip, which quickly made him feel like he was standing still - a feeling most men, mine in particular, would rather not feel. As we were exceeding the speed limits by 10kph, other cars were speeding up to our rear end bumper, abruptly changing lanes, honking, and rapidly roaring off into the distance leaving us with the distinct impression that we had been in their way. Surely, we thought we'd be able to relax when the city and highway were behind us.
The highway heading toward Sorrento undulates along the coastal mountains, rising above some villages and sloping down to seaside towns. The view across the Gulf of Naples, back toward the city, was breathtaking. The bright blue waters sparkled in the foreground and the mountains stood out distinctly in the distance. We had heard stories of the winding roads along the Amalfi Coast, with traffic jam ups with tourist buses, but we were sailing along with one in front of us, one behind, and a number of them passing us easily going in the other direction. We were feeling more comfortable with the car and the roads were well marked, directing us toward Sorrento and then on to Positano. This is the last leg of this day's travels and we were looking forward to arriving in this place I'd dreamt of seeing for so many years.
If the roads to Sorrento are winding, the roads to Positano are just plain treacherous. The lanes became narrower, the climbs became steeper, and the Italians became more dangerous. Upcoming hairpin turns were announced in degrees - 1 degree, to my mind, was really 359 degrees because we ended up practically where we began but on another level. We took the road turn-for-turn and were glad to finally see Positano in the distance.
Parked cars and scooters line the narrow streets of Positano, and pedestrians amble in the streets because there are very few sidewalks. As we were beginning to think we'd made it, we saw the nose of a very large tour bus pull around a corner. As it advanced toward us, Peter pulled close to the building on our right but found our nose about to hit a metal sign post. The bus had stopped because he couldn't advance without hitting us and the driver began signing us to backup. There were only inches left between us and the bus, and it was wedged in between the corner of a building and our car. Peter tried and tried to get the car into reverse, as the bus driver looked down on us with a grin. Scooters were weaving between the bus and us, honking their annoyance as they passed. Pedestrians stood dangerously close to the back of our car, as if they couldn't possibly be hit by this obvious tourist. Finally, the good-natured bus driver climbed down from his perch, leaned into our car and lifted the stick shift, showing us how to get it in to reverse. Greatly relieved yet grossly embarrassed, Peter got the car into reverse, backed up several yards and pulled tight against the flat side of a building. Another kind swarthy Italian now directed traffic, signaling to Peter which way to turn his wheels, waving one scooter passed after another, advising pedestrians to get out of the way, and then bidding the tour bus goodbye. The bottleneck broken, everyone continued on their way - another disaster averted.
Eden Roc is on the east side of Positano and I can honestly say I have never been greeted anywhere as warmly as we were here. This hotel is half way up the edge of the mountain, overlooking the Mediterranean, and has a single car pull-in just next to the front door. Happily we exited the car, dreading having to find a parking place for it for the night, but right after his "Bona sera", the manager advised us that they would see the car to a garage and all of our bags to our room - what welcome words those were. Within minutes of arriving at the front desk, we were on our flower lined balcony, gazing out at my picture-postcard view of Positano and the Mediterranean, sipping a complementary glass of champagne. We'd made it and just as the day was ending.
Having only eaten peanuts and cookies all day, an early dinner in the hotel restaurant was in order. Carlo couldn't have been kinder, recommending local wine to accompany our prosciutto & melon, homemade minestrone soup, grilled prawns, and fritto misto. He even brought the last of the wine, Peter's grappa and handmade chocolates to our room, so we could enjoy the end of the day on our balcony, which we did.
Positano, Italy
Burano is one of the Northern Islands of Venice known for its brightly colored houses. Local tradition says that the bright colors used to enable each fisherman to identify his house from the sea but now it's just for the pleasant effect. Burano is so obviously a living community with grandparents, children, and dogs all calling out and barking at each other across the campo (square).
Reflections on Burano
We were on this charming island on a bright sunny day which was dazzling, but Peter and I wished it was a foggy day - the kind in which bright colors stand out so beautifully - but the sun didn't deter us from snapping left and right all of the new colorful sights. As we left the group and walked east, the crowds thinned and we could appreciate what a special island this is.
Burano Church Tower
Neighbors carry on conversations between houses, a friend was called away from his newspaper to help reach something caught on a line, and the familiar scales of a piano lesson resounded off the walls of the nearby church tower, which was leaning and looming over the neighborhood.
Open Doorway in Burano
Doors and windows were all open to the cobblestone walkways, and I found it particularly entertaining in this exceptionally colorful environment to have caught a glimpse of two young women chatting in an all-white kitchen - white floor and ceiling, white cabinets and counters, and white appliances.
A Bright Happy House on Burano
Over loaded with color our group slowly found its way to a large square and collected a group of tables together to enjoy the afternoon sun and some local wine. An hour later we were back on the Vaporetto taking us back to Piazza San Marco via Murano. The trip took an hour but the warm breeze off the water relaxed us all as we took in the setting sun across the lagoon's waters.
Peter and I are in Venice for a holiday, to celebrate his birthday, AND for a week long "photography adventure" called Venice Within the Frame. David duChemin and Jeffrey Chapman are two humantitarian photographers who, for two to three years now, have been running week long "workshops" at various locations around the world. On average there are 10 participants and the group enjoys the companionship of other like-minded individuals, sharing their perspectives and images, and learning from one another as well as the "teachers". I'll write more about this later, but for now I'm sharing these two images with you that I need to decide between for sharing with the group this morning. Please, let me know, ... which do you prefer, and, if you're inclined, tell me why!
Murano, Italy
After a wonderful night sleep, Peter and I made plans to visit two of the northern islands today - Murano and Burano. Murano is known for its glass-blowing industry and Burano is known for its colorful houses, but first … Peter wanted to bet on the Kentucky Derby which was going to run late this afternoon (EDT). Challenges lay ahead. First, access to the internet is spotty at best here, and second, when you're on the internet everything is VERY slow. It took Peter all morning to place only $3.00 of bets, which left both of us frustrated and cranky, for different reasons. With an agreement to return to the hotel by 5:00 p.m. so he could resume his betting efforts, Peter and I headed out to see the islands. The owner of our "hostel", Giuliano, recommended we walk north to the northern coast of Cannaregio to pick up the 41/42 Vaporetti to Murano, and then later to take the 14 (formerly known as 13 and changed for no known reason) to Burano. He said we could easily pick up a 14 to return us to Piazza San Marco.
We set off and quickly knew we were not on the path Giuliano had recommended but we were happy to be discovering more of Venice. Under normal circumstances I would consult my watch and the sun to determine if we were at least walking in the right direction, but the "streets" are often only narrow passage ways, only two people-wide, and the walls are high, so it's impossible to take your bearings on the sun. We eventually saw signs for the Hospital, which was one of the landmarks, Giuliano suggested we use to find our way, and once we skirted Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, we could see the Canal and islands in the distance.
We boarded a 41 around 2:00 p.m. feeling accomplished and hungry, and looking forward to a good lunch on Murano, but events would unfold differently. The 41 comes FROM Murano and travels west and south heading for the Grand Canal. It took several stops before I could convince Peter that, in fact, Murano was getting further away and we, in fact, were turning south, away from this northern island. We got off at the next stop and hopped on a 42 heading in the opposite direction. As always we weren't terribly disturbed about seeing new parts of this complex city of islands, but we were also seeing time eaten away.
Lunch was now our next order of business and my Rough Guide said that Busa Alla Torre was the best place to eat on the island … it also said it stopped serving lunch at 3:00 p.m., an hour that was rapidly approaching. Dashing off the Vaporetto, along the cobblestone path running parallel to the canal, and over two bridges, we arrived breathless and hungry in the Campo just before closing.
Rain was threatening by now - you could smell it in the air - but we ate outside under large umbrellas in spite. Pino Grigio was a fine complement to our Gnocchi with Salmon, Four Cheese Ravioli and a large mixed green salad. Over coffee, we re-ordered our itinerary once more and agreed that, given the hour - approaching 4:00 p.m. - Burano would have to be saved for another day.
The waiters were now breaking down the tables, chairs and umbrellas around us. The square that had been half filled now had only three remaining tables, one occupied by a couple and their very gregarious and energetic daughter who was happily chasing and feeding the pigeons, one occupied by a group of five uniformed Carabinieri enjoying a coffee break, and one occupied by us. Peter decided to visit "the Gents" before moving on and as he was getting up, his foot caught the edge of the table, toppling the water glasses and soaking me in the process. The waiters provided me with napkins to dry off with and Peter continued on. When he returned his expression struck me as very odd. Once on the far side of the square, Peter fessed up and sheepishly explained that he was "taking care of business" when the door to his stall opened, and there, of all things, was the female Carabinieri. With embarrassment all around, she pulled the door shut and moved on. Peter successfully locked the stall door now only to hear mother and child trying to open it. As he left the stall, the gregarious little girl boldly, clearly, and repeatedly informed Peter, "You're in the wrong room! You're in the wrong room!" It wasn't until he looked over his shoulder as he exited the room that he caught that ever-familiar figure with a skirt tucked in the corner next to the door.
Murano Glass
Another adventure behind us, we walked along the canal peering in all of the shops with the beautiful Murano glass. Suddenly, my iPhone announced that I'd received a text message, and I had a brief exchange with a good friend from home. It seemed hard to believe that I could be walking this small island in Italy and have the ability to text half way around the world … I do love technology.
There was a rainbow to the south when we were returning to San Marco, clearly indicating that there had been heavy rain somewhere, just not where we had been - yeah! It was a little before 6:00 p.m. when Peter returned to the computer to place his bets for the Derby. "Expletive deleteds" darted through the air as absolutely nothing was working for him. Finally, he decided to go to an Internet Cafe around the corner to see if they have better access to the internet. It's there that he learned that the Italian government was standing in his way. The man who runs the cafe told Peter that the Italian government prohibits access to these gambling sights, and showed him a list specifically naming the sight he was now trying to get to. Frustrated AND defeated, Peter climbed the three stories of stairs wishing life could be a lot easier.
Piazza San Marco
Today is the day before the full moon when the moon rises before the sun sets and we could capture it in a well-lit landscape, or in this case seascape. We have been excited about this for months, imagining what it would be like to see the nearly-full moon rise out of the sea right next to the Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore. Clouds nearly dashed all of our hopes. A large cloud bank hung on the horizon when we got to the Piazza, which was teaming with tourists still. Undeterred we re-focused our attention on the lagoon, the gondolas, and the magnificent buildings around us, and then … drum-roll please … the biggest, brightest moon I've ever seen appeared half-covered with clouds - clouds that very quickly drifted away. The moon now shone brightly in the sky and its light danced upon the waters. We couldn't capture the images fast enough.
The trials of the day seemed to be fading as we ecstatically photographed everything around us, Peter on one end of the waterfront and me on the other. Suddenly a young man with a camera around his neck was talking to me, speaking in very broken English. He was pointing to the bridge, where some woman was waving to us. I thought he might want me to take his picture, but he made no movements toward that end, he just continued to point to the bridge, saying the word bridge. I asked him what language he spoke, because I thought we might be able to communicate in French. He answered "English" which was obviously not the case. I decided to turn my back on him and return to my tripod and "shooting the moon". I thought nothing further about him.
Framing one image, I decided I had to move a foot to the left and I did, after which a young blond guy came up behind me and firmly poked me in the shoulder. I turned and saw him standing several feet behind me with a tripod, so I assumed I might have stepped into his shot. I apologized noting that I had no idea he was there. I continued to take pictures when suddenly, this young blond man, now wearing round glasses, came up right next to me and placed his tripod so its leg crossed mine. It was painfully apparent to me that either he desperately wanted to stand where I was standing for his picture, or these three people were somehow trying to run a "scam" on me - to separate me from some or all of my equipment. I relinquished my spot to the blond and quickly found Peter shooting in front of the gondolas. He heard my story and approached the woman of the group who was now on the waterfront with a tripod. As she was denying any wrong doing, the two guys approached to hear the exchange. Peter withdrew and very soon thereafter these three were no where to be seen. When I asked Peter what he'd said, he said I could hear it first hand when we watched what was recorded on the Go-Pro strapped to his chest. Perhaps that was the incentive for them to leave so quickly.
A little disheartened, I told Peter I was done for the night and we returned to our room to see the images we'd captured. A smile returned to my heart when I saw that we'd not only captured the moon rising over lagoon but we also got blue hour in Piazza San Marco - for us … once in a lifetime events.
There was a full moon over Venice less than 24 hours ago and 24 hours before that we were prepared to capture its rise before the sun went down ... on the waterfront at the Piazza San Marco in Venice. We thought all was lost when the clouds rolled in and didn't leave all afternoon. Even as moonrise approached, the bank of clouds to the southeast seemed determined to undermine our hopes ... and then, the biggest and brightest moon I think I've ever seen peaked above a large fluffy cumulus cloud, shedding light across the lagoon straight to my feet. Peter and I were thrilled, and the more our excitement mounted, the faster the clouds seemed to disappear. "Pinch me! Can I truly be in Venice, watching the light from a full moon dance on the waters of Venice?" The waters of the lagoon were constantly moving as the vaporetti, taxis, and other boats created waves in their wake. At blue hour, the gondolas at the base of Piazza San Marco were all tied up and tarped for the night, and they too danced on the waters as the waves lapped the shore.
This is our postcard to you - of the full moon in May over Venice.
Salzburg, Austria - View from Our Room in the Hotel Europa
Thursday was our most challenging day and I started it with very little sleep. Anxious about our three trains and moving all of our luggage, I awoke around 3:30 a.m. and never went back to sleep. We've packed as "streamlined" as possible which still leaves us with two large suitcases, my "vanity" case, our two camera bags, my shoulder bag and Peter's Change-up camera bag. God help us! And he did by providing lots of wonderful strangers.
Salzburg, Austria
We walked across the square from our hotel (Austria Trend Hotel Europa) to the train station about 8:15 a.m. and quickly found our track. In the center of the platform, several schematics are posted one for each train that will come through the station. The schematic shows each coach number and where it will stop on the platform, i.e. section A, B, or C. It's very efficient and very Austrian. The train arrived on time and we started today's adventure at 9:06 a.m., happily tucked into our first class seats next to enormous picture windows. Breakfast was the first order and it was delicious. The views were even more spectacular to my mind as the trees have really bloomed in the past several days with the inordinately warm weather, the rivers have swollen with melted snows from the mountains, and the fields have turned a beautiful emerald green.
Today we had to change trains twice, once in Innsbruck and once in Verona. According to the schedule there would be 28 minutes for the transfer in Innsbruck and 31 minutes for the transfer in Verona. With all this luggage and the short durations the trains stay in the stations before departing for the next stop, these transfers are going to be real fire drills!
Austrian Alps - Salzburg, Austria
The train from Salzburg to Innsbruck was 20 minutes late arriving in Innsbruck, leaving us 8 minutes to get off the train, find the next track and then get on the next train. Yikes. We could see the track we needed to get to but there seemed to be no way to get there, except down, under and up! Peter approached the down escalator with his two rolling bags, leading with the monster suitcase, following with the rolling camera bag and wedging himself on a step in between. He was half way down when I approached the escalator and I quickly knew, for some unknown reason, I wasn't going to be able to do this. It was like "coming and going" at the same time, and I just couldn't do it. So, as Peter was approaching the bottom, I thought I'd put his camera bag on a step and send it down by itself. The bag was centered on a single step but as I let go of the handle, it caught the edge of the step and began to fall. I stood there, at the top of these moving stairs, and watched in disbelief as the bag rolled, end-over-end, down the stairs toward my unsuspecting beloved husband. As the noise of the oncoming bag caught his attention, Peter turned just in time for him to unload his bags onto "terra ferma" and try to catch the rogue case. He secured the bag with out harming himself but it did take him down, so now he and the camera case were at the base of the escalator, bouncing a little as each step folded itself in to the floor, AND … I was now floating closer and closer on my stair with my large suitcase in tow. I was praying he'd be able to get up and away before I arrived or there was going to be an awful pile-up. Peter got out of the way just in the nick of time.
We collected ourselves quickly, dashed through the tunnel under the tracks and then, with horror, faced the rising escalator that would take us to the track. The good news? The train was not there - it was running 10 minutes late … there is a God! We relayed our bags up this escalator and tried, desperately, to look as if all was right with the world - I seriously question whether I had any success.
The train that took us to Verona was an Italian train - starkly different from the Austrian trains we'd been on to date. Rather than an open car with roomy seats organized in twos, this first class car had a long narrow hall on one side and compartments on the other, each with three seats facing another three seats. The first challenge was getting all of our stuff on the train before it closed its doors and left the station. As Peter was trying to determine where to stow "the monster", a very kind woman helped me load the smaller bags and I heard the final whistle blow as my feet left the platform and the train door closed behind me.
The center seats were the only ones left in our compartment (although our tickets indicated that the window seats were meant to be ours). Following examples left by others, Peter left our large luggage along the outer wall of the hall and put the smaller ones in a luggage rack above our heads. The older couple in the window seats were from Southern California and he was quite the "chatty Cathy". The other couple were young and Japanese, and they spent almost the entire trip in the bar car, so John, Melinda, Peter and I got to know each other quite well. Peter was situated in the compartment so he could see the luggage in the hall but also so he could take video of the passing countryside.
About half way to Verona, the train accelerated suddenly and out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw his extra-large black suitcase begin to move under its own steam. He darted in to the hall only to see this big-black monster independently rolling down the hall straight for the glass door at the end. Knowing he couldn't catch it before it collided with the door, Peter just prayed no one would open the door just as the suitcase approached. Once again, we were fortunate. The suitcase stopped without further incident. When Peter returned with the suitcase he turned it on its side - off the wheels!
This train was on time and we learned from John that it was going to stay in the Verona station for over 15 minutes, so Peter and I knew, we'd have ample time to disembark - whew! In fact, by the time we were on the platform not one other passenger from our train could be seen, except an English-speaking German who was smoking a cigarette, waiting for this train to continue its journey south.
The Verona train station is under construction - disorganized construction compared to the construction of the Salzburg station. In Salzburg, escalators AND elevators worked despite the construction, here neither worked so we knew we'd have to move everything down the stairs, through the tunnel and then up more stairs to the platform. The relay was our plan here. Peter and I would take the valuable camera equipment down the stairs, I would stay with them, and he would go back up stairs for the large cases. As we were approaching the half-way point on the first pass, we saw the black monster case being ferried quickly and efficiently down the stairs by our English-speaking German friend. He deposited the case, bid us a safe journey and bounded back up the stairs to catch his train. I promised to think kind thoughts about him for the rest of the day.
The tunnel was dark and we were still uncertain about which track we should be heading for and out of the darkness appeared … John. I think he felt sorry for us and since we hadn't appeared on the platform for the train to Venice, he back-tracked to find us. He was our second savior, and he and his wife continued to be for the remainder of our journey to Venice. They helped us load our gear onto the next train and they helped us get it off in Venice. As they were walking in to the station, quickly being enveloped by an oncoming throng, Peter called to them - thanking them again and promising to buy them a drink if and when our paths crossed again. With a smile and a wave, they disappeared.
Now for the last leg of today's trying trials - getting to the hotel. This would be a challenge in any city but in Venice, by water … mon Dieu! Peter had been saying he was determined to get to our hotel using the Vaporetti, which are water-buses. He left me with the bags while he queued up to buy a two day pass for these boats. By the time he returned, I had been watching the crowded buses coming and going and knew there was no way we were going to be able to board with out great efforts and embarrassment. I'd seen two men walking the platform with jackets that read "PORTER SERVICE". I begged Peter to talk to them and he finally agreed. I thought they would have helped us carry the bags to a taxi and give us some advice, but instead they said they would carry our luggage to their boat, drive us to a canal near our hotel, and walk us (and our luggage) to the front door - all for 50 Euro. Peter agreed and we were off.
Boats in the Canals of Venice
Our vehicle was a long motor boat with very high sides. The driver was masterful at turning corners and passing all of the gondolas that clogged the canals. I am amazed that not one boat touched another. Venice is beautiful and so unique, it's hard to grasp that this is real and not something Disney created for Epcot. When we got off the boat, the lads led us through the alley ways to one hotel which was not ours, but with no apparent frustration they got the correct address, corrected their course and led us to Locando al Leon on the Campo St Filippo e Giacomo in Castello not far from the Piazza San Marco. We were told our room was on the 2nd floor which translates to the 3rd floor as the ground floor here is considered 0. The stairs are long, shallow, and steep, and we quickly appreciated that "free luggage service to your room upon both check-in and check-out" is part of the package here.
We unpacked completely and then set out to find a source of ice for Peter and dinner for both of us. A bar at the corner provided the former and a trattoria around the corner provided the latter. Peter had pasta with onions and anchovies for dinner and I had grilled prawns (which were divine) and a mixed salad. By the time we halled ourselves up stairs to our room over looking the Campo it was around 9:30 p.m. and we were both exhausted. We felt good that we'd made it but both pray there's never another day like this one. Sleep was welcomed around 11:00 p.m. drifting off to the sounds of Venice floating in the windows.
The Grand Canal in Venice
Ciao!
The crowds are amazing here in the Piazza San Marco. This is a pictire I took of Peter, can you find him?
Lake Zurich from the Train
A challenge it was, but we were up to it ... who wouldn't be ... a train trip through the Alps from Zurich, Switzerland to Salzburg, Austria. Lakes, mountains, meadows and snow drifts - all from the comfort of our seats. THIS is why we flew in to Zurich ... so we could take the train through these magnificent mountains. Five hours on the train "flew" by and these images are indicative of what we saw.
Zimmat River at Blue Hour - Zurich
Peter and I are on another adventure to celebrate two significant birthdays this year (one for him and one for me), and we're going to share "postcards" with you along the way.
View from Our Balcony in Zurich
First stop Zurich, Switzerland. It's been a beautiful, warm and sunny spring day here and, as usual, the first thing we did was get out on the water. Lake Zurich is hugh with Zurich at the north end and the snow capped mountains to the south, and the fresh air banished any remaining cobwebs we may have had after the eight hour flight over. The last time I was here (on business in the early 80s) it was winter and bitterly cold. This time every thing is lush green and the warm spring air is ever so welcoming.
Lake Zurich © 2012 Claudia Ward
After an hour and a half boat ride, we ambled into the old town and found a lovely restaurant called Swiss Chuchi at the Hotel Adler where we enjoyed cheese fondue and white wine on the cobblestones under the darkening evening sky. Everyone was out enjoying the evening air and each other. Zurich strikes us as a very friendly and happy city.
Zimmat River Zurich © 2012 Claudia Ward
The walk back to our hotel on the other side of the Limmat River was spectacular. There was no breeze to speak of and the river was the perfect reflecting mirror for this beautiful city and we were lucky to be able to capture a few images in the blue hour. Tomorrow we take our tripods - this is just too good to miss, although resting our cameras on the concrete walls that run along the river seemed to do the job.
Zimmat River After Dusk - Zurich, Switzerland
Remembering a Sunset at Gracehill, ©2010 Claudia Ward
The world lost two wonderful men this past weekend, former colleagues of mine in banking - both retired - one for many years, the other for just a few. I remember each of these men as being intelligent, hard working, gentlemen each with a wonderful sense of humor.
I worked for Jim for over five years back in the days when many business meetings were conducted in private clubs - the kind that had specific entrances for women (a.k.a. the back door). The specific club I recall was in Cleveland and our bank was running a seminar in their facilities. I remember little to nothing about the seminar or even the clients, but what I do recall was that Jim didn't join all the men climbing the grand staircase to the front door, but rather, he escorted me into the club through the only door I was allowed to use - now that truly is a gentleman, especially in 1979! Jim worked tirelessly with Habitat for Humanity in his retirement years and, although I never heard him play, I understand he still played the piano nearly every day.
I worked with John in the same business line for many years and stayed in touch with him following his retirement. We both enjoyed photography and the beauty of nature and especially beaches like those that he moved close to on the North Carolina coast. We exchanged our favorite photos and talked about getting together on our respective travels. I spoke with John when we were in the Great Smoky Mountains last year and he said he hoped he'd be able to visit them one day. The good news is that he was able to make that trip and he stayed at Gracehill, the bed and breakfast we had stayed in on top of a mountain at the end of Little Round Top Way. We agreed that we both felt a little closer to heaven at Gracehill.
Well I'm confident that that is exactly where these two gents are today, reunited with their beloved wives and looking down on us all with a smile, happy to have been a part of our lives and hoping we'll make the most of the day.
Soupe au pistou, the quintessential Provençal vegetable soup, is one of our favorites. I love making the spring version I learned about in cooking classes with Patricia Wells several years ago. What could possibly be wrong with a piping hot bowl of a flavorful broth, chockablock full of fresh vegetables, topped off with Parmesan and Gruyère cheeses and a good dollop of pistou (a.k.a. basil purée)? Answer ... absolutely nothing.
As I'm making more and more soups these days, I'm finding myself straying from the "letter" of the recipe, adding ingredients or herbs that I think we'll enjoy or modifying the sequence of the steps in making the dish. I know ... those of you who know me are saying "How unlike you! You're the one who follows every recipe to a tee!" and my husband watches and asks, "Who are you? What have you done with my wife?" I guess practice, and lots of it, makes you familiar enough with a process that you feel comfortable understanding what has to happen when and how.
I posted the recipe I got from Patricia Wells for "Pistou" a year and a half ago. I still use that recipe as the foundation for the soup, but have modified one or two things. I switched out the pasta and added pearl barley instead, just because it's so darned good for you, and I added 3 cups of low-sodium chicken stock which I think subtly added some body and a flavor-boost. The batch I made today will yield 4 full servings for the two of us ... or our friends. That should take us well in to this spring.
Note: Go out of your way to get fresh basil to make the pistou - it adds a lot of flavor to this already wonderful soup.
Soupe au Pistou
(8 individual servings)
4 ounces small dried white beans
4 ounces dried cranberry beans
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 large yellow onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
3 fresh garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 medium leek, white and light green parts only, scrubbed, quartered, and finely sliced
4 carrots, peeled and cut in to small triangles
8 ounces red potatoes, peeled and cubed
Bouquet garni: Several bay leaves and several sprigs of fresh thyme, tied together securely with kitchen twine (or put inside a large stainless mesh ball)
8 ounces zucchini, cut into small triangles
12 ounces tomatoes, peeled, cored, seeded, and chopped
8 ounces green beans, trimmed at both ends and quartered
3-4 cups of low-sodium chicken stock or broth
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 quarts cold water
1 tablespoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
¼ cup pearl barley (Cooked according to its package instructions before adding to the soup - roughly 45 minutes in 2 cups of simmering, lightly salted water, and then drained.)
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The Beans
The Soup
Pistou
(Basil purée)
(Makes about ⅔ cup or 12 one-tablespoon servings)
4 fresh garlic cloves, halved, and green germ removed
⅛ teaspoon fine sea salt
4 cups loosely packed fresh basil leaves
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
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Asparagus is a vegetable that I've always adored but getting my husband to eat it on any regular basis was a challenge. He'd eat it steamed but only with plenty of butter and maybe a squeeze of lemon, and truly he'd prefer it with a large dollop of hollandaise sauce. Well will wonders never cease, I've found a way to prepare it that he adores, and now the man who won't eat anything two days in a row is asking for "more asparagus please"!
How did I do it? Roasted asparagus. He likes it not only for it's roasted flavor but for the texture and those crispy tips. I love that it has NO butter, only olive oil, salt, and pepper, and a little grated Parmesan cheese ... if you must! If you haven't tried this way of cooking vegetables yet, do, I expect you'll be the next convert. Once again, thanks to Ina Garten, the Barefoot Contessa for the inspiration!
Roasted Asparagus
(6 servings)
2½ pounds fresh asparagus (about 30 large)
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
2 lemons cut in wedges, for serving
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Note: I shave the Parmesan over the asparagus before I cook it, mainly because I'll forget it later. Ina, adds it at the end, and then returns the cheese covered asparagus to the oven for another minute. It's a matter of convenience in my opinion.
Now what do you think my chances are with the dreaded broccoli? Anyone taking bets? Stay tuned.
If you haven't noticed I'm seriously in to soups these days; I can't seem to get enough of them and my Pepperplate "cookbook" now holds twenty-six superb "soups-for-all-seasons". It's filled with the standards like chicken noodle soup, split pea and ham, tomato basil, and minestrone but I'm always on the lookout for unusual soups to add to my repertoire. Braised Leek and Bacon Bisque sounded like it would fit that bill when I found it as a Community Pick on Food52.
This soup is truly sublime - smooth, satisfyingly laced with the ever-so-light oniony flavor of the leeks and the smokey hint of bacon, and the fried-leek garnish is singularly irresistable. I don't honestly know whether this soup freezes well because we consume it before it ever reaches that chilly drawer. This is special, in my estimation; I hope you try it.
Braised Leek and Bacon Bisque
(Serves 4)
For the Bisque
1/4 pound bacon, diced (about 4 slices)
3 large leeks
3 cups chicken stock, homemade if available
1 garlic clove, smashed and peeled
1 tablespoon lemon thyme (or regular thyme)
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/3 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon lemon juice
For the Fried Leek Garnish
Leek trimmings, leftover from making the bisque
2 to 4 tablespoons all purpose flour
1/4 cup olive oil
==================================
Soup
Fried Leek Garnish
The U.S. is the leading consumer of carbonated soft drinks in the world and it's been reported that we consume roughly 50 gallons of these beverages per person each year. Yikes, that's a lot ... and I can honestly say that I've never cared much for them. Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Dr, Pepper, Root Beer and my sister's favorite, Sarsaparilla were never my "go to" beverages when I was thirsty. The carbonation didn't agree with me, I disliked the sensation of those bubbles in my mouth, and, believe it or not, I didn't care for the sweetness ... except in ginger ale. Perhaps it's because my mother used to give us ginger ale to quell an upset stomach and I associate it with feeling better. I still don't drink much of it, but if I ever do have a soda it's ginger ale, perhaps with a slice of lime.
You may recall that Peter and I found an episode of Alton Brown's Good Eats not so long ago that was all about ginger, and on it Alton made homemade ginger ale. This peaked our interest and we just had to make it, especially as it looked so easy. I wanted to see if the flavor was more natural than the store-bought variety and I can honestly say it is. It's made with only five ingredients, one of which is sugar, but somehow this homemade concoction doesn't strike me as sickeningly sweet as "the other stuff". It's also far less carbonated which I much prefer. If you're a soft drink aficionado and you like ginger ale ... try this, I'll bet you'll like it.
Our biggest challenge making this beverage was finding a 2-litre plastic bottle to put the mixture in when it was done. We ended up draining (and thoroughly washing) a bottle of Peter's Waist Watchers Diet Black Cherry Soda - now doesn't that sound tasty ... NOT!
Homemade Ginger Ale
(About 2 quarts)
1½ ounces finely grated fresh ginger
6 ounces sugar
7½ cups filtered water
⅛ teaspoon active dry yeast
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemo juice
===================================
Place ginger, sugar, and ½ cup water into a 2-quart saucepan and set over medium-high heat. Stir until the sugar has dissolved. Remove from the heat, cover and allow to steep for 1 hour.
Pour the syrup through a fine mesh strainer set over a bowl, pressing down to get all of the juice out of the mixture. Chill quickly by placing over an ice bath and stirring, or set in the refrigerator, uncovered, until at least room temperature, 68 to 72 ℉.
Using a funnel, pour the syrup into a clean 2-litre plastic bottle and add the yeast, lemon juice and remaining 7 cups of water. Place the cap on the bottle, gently shake to combine and leave the bottle at room temperature for 48 hours. Open and check for desired amount of carbonation. It is important that once you achieve your desired amount of carbonation that you refrigerate the ginger ale. Store in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks, opening the bottle at least once a day to let out excess carbonation.
Spring Blossoms ©2009 Claudia Ward
Vernal equinox, that's the official name for the first day of spring, one of two days in each year upon which the hours of day and night are equal. Today, the sun rose "due east" and it will set "due west". One might say that everything is going up from here, meaning the days will be longer than nights from now until the autumnal equinox on September 22nd. That's a good thing!
Celebrate! We survived the winter-that-wasn't. Now let's just hope that Mother Nature didn't store up all her blizzard-energy for spring torrents. In the meantime, enjoy all of the early blooms.
Daffodils ©2009 Claudia Ward
Who doesn't like the gingery flavor of a good old-fashioned ginger snap? If you answered "I don't" you might as well move on for now. However, if you answered with a resounding "I do!", you will love this recipe.
We stumbled across an episode of Alton Brown's Good Eats that was all about ginger, and lo and behold he included a recipe for Ginger Snaps which included the use of fresh ginger! This, my friends, is what makes all the difference in this recipe - by making it truly gingery! Yes it still uses the ground variety too, but the true ginger flavor is provided by none other than true ginger!
Peter likes his cookies a bit chewy so we cooked these for only 12 minutes, but if your childhood memories are like mine and you recall the "snap" being crisp, then cook them slightly longer - say 15 minutes.
Now you'll notice something a little different in this recipe ... at least I did. Measurements are not by volume but rather are by weight. Everyone knows that precise measurements are not critical to most cooking .... with the exception of baking - this is a science. Wondering whether weight vs volume makes a real difference, I conducted a test and found that a cup of flour scooped out of the canister and leveled off with a dinner knife weighed 5⅛ ounces which is ⅞ of an ounce more than it should, according to King Arthur Flour. They have a fantastic Master Weight Chart converting the volume of common ingredients to weight, and they say a cup of all-purpose flour should convert to just 4¼ ounces. So if baking is a science and demands accuracy - weight trumps volume any day.
9½ ounces all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons Baking soda
1 tablespoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
½ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon kosher salt
7 ounces dark brown sugar
5 ounces unsalted butter, room temperature
3 ounces molasses, by weight
1 large egg, room temperature
2 teaspoons finely grated ginger
==================================
Preheat the oven to 350℉.
In a medium mixing bowl whisk together the flour, baking soda, ginger, cardamom, cloves, and salt.
Place the brown sugar and butter into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and bear on low speed until light and fluffy, 1-2 minutes. Add the molasses, egg and fresh ginger and beat on medium for 1 minute. Add the dry ingredients to the wet and stir until well combined.
With a 2-teaspoon sized scoop, drop the dough onto a parchment lined half sheet pan approximately 2-inches apart. Bake on the middle rack of the oven for 12 minutes for slightly chewy cookies and 15 minutes for more crisp cookies. Rotate the pan halfway through cooking.
Remove from the oven and allow the cookies to stay on the sheet pan for 30 seconds before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely. Repeat with all the dough. Store in an airtight container for up to 10 days. If desired you may scoop and freeze the cookie dough on a sheet pan and once frozen, place in a resealable bag to store. Bake directly from the freezer as above.
P.S. Alton also stirs in 4 ounces of finely chopped candied ginger just before adding the dry ingredients. We don't particularly care for candied ginger so I've left it out here, but you can always add it if you have it on hand.
Since the movie Julie and Julia, there's been a renewed interest in one of my old favorites - Boeuf Bourguignon. Braised beef and vegetables, cooked slowly in a flavorful stock with wine and herbs has been a favorite of mine since I was introduced to such concoctions as a child with Gaston Stew.
For decades, my cookbook of choice was The New Doubleday Cookbook. I used it so much when I set up house, that the the spine has now fallen off and all I can see on my bookshelf is the mull. It's in the exact same shape as my mother's copy of The Joy of Cooking, so I can easily pick them out among all of the other cookbooks in my kitchen. The recipe below is an amalgamation of a Doubleday recipe and one from Ina Garten. It's wonderful, especially "the next day", with rosemary roasted potatoes, egg noodles, or toasted garlic bread, and of course a green salad. My only advice is be sure to get well marbleized beef chuck NOT round which was passed off to us recently as stew beef. We made it anyway and found the meat to be tough. Despite that, this was delicious and made the house smell "wicked good" for hours.
Boeuf Bourguignon
6 servings
1 tablespoon olive oil
½ pound bacon, diced
2½-3 pounds of boned beef chuck, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 pound carrots, peeled and sliced into 1 inch pieces
1 large or 2 small yellow onions, peeled and sliced thin
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped
½ cup Cognac or good brandy
1 (750-ml) bottle red Burgundy wine
2-2½ cups beef stock or broth
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 sprigs of fresh thyme
2 sprigs of fresh parsley
1 bay leaf crumbled
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, DIVIDED
3 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 pound frozen small whole onions or a batch of Pan-Braised Onions*
1 pound mushrooms, wiped clean, stems discarded, and sliced ¼ inch thick
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
=====================================
Pan Braised Onions
1 pound small white onions, peeled
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
¼ cup dry vermouth
⅛ teaspoon salt
Pinch pepper
==================================
Collecting drift wood was a great past time, growing up on Cape Cod. On sunny days, we'd comb the beach to find interesting shapes that could be made into pins, dangled on a necklace, or glued to a wicker hand-basket. Those were our rainy day projects - keeping those idle hands busy.
Peter and I came across this piece of drift wood in Montauk not long ago. It was too large to collect but we found it worthy of a few "snaps". I thought it resembled the head of a small calf - what do you think?
It's another gray, raw day here in the northeast and it's also the weekend ... time to cook something soul-satisfying. To me nothing is quite as satisfying as a piping hot bowl of homemade soup. I'm hooked on making and eating homemade soup and will never return to the land of canned soups.
Peter and I are trying to incorporate more whole grains and beans into our diet and to that end, I've been scouring the internet and my cookbook library for soups incorporating barley and any sort of beans. When I ran across this recipe for Mushroom Barley Soup, it reminded me that I enjoyed the canned kind when I was young, so why wouldn't I like this homemade kind.
Well, my pleasure with this recipe far exceeded my expectations. It's easy and takes not much longer than an hour and a half to make from start to finish. The result is the most wonderful bowl of mushrooms, vegetables, and barley in a divine broth that is laced with the smoky flavor of porcini mushrooms. This is truly soul-satisfying in my book and a great way to warm the cockles of your heart.
Mushroom Barley Soup
(8 servings)
1/3 cup pearled barley
3 cups water
1/4 oz dried porcini (1/4 cup)
1 large leek (white and pale green parts only), halved lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 celery ribs, cut into 1/3-inch dice
2 carrots, chopped
1/2 lb fresh shiitakes, stems discarded and caps thinly sliced
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 tablespoons medium-dry Sherry
1 3/4 cups low-sodium beef broth
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Garnish: chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
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The photo exhibition at Ashawagh Hall last weekend, sponsored by Hampton Photo Arts and curated by Laurie Barone-Shaefer, has been deemed a success by one and all. Over 50 photographers, ranging in ages from 9 -81, exhibited a wide range of images and a number were even sold - including Laurie's.
SOLD: Towd Point ©2012 Laurie Barone-Schaefer
Peter showed two of his architectural HDR images, one of the New York Skyline and the other of Montparnasse in Paris.
"New York Skyline" © 2009 Peter Tooker
"Montparnasse, Paris" © 2010 Peter Tooker
I exhibited "Spring", a flower photograph printed on metallic paper, and "Montauk - Post Hurricane Bill", two images framed together of a Coast Guard Cutter braving Bill's waves and dodging surfers off Montauk Point.
"Spring" © 2009 Claudia Danforth Ward
"Montauk - Post Hurricane Bill" © 2009 Claudia Danforth Ward
Once again it was great fun to see everyone's work and to get to know some of the other artists first hand.
Thanks again to Dave, Ben, and everyone at Hampton Photo Arts, and of course, the indefatigable Laurie.
In our household, Peter is known as "the man who came to dinner ... and never left". Twenty-two years ago, I invited Peter to come over for dinner and to watch the Oscars, and that was the beginning of what has been the most wonderful 22 years of my life. We have fit together like glove and hand since the very beginning, enjoying the same past times, like cooking and photography, sharing nearly boundless curiosity on subjects ranging from The Barnes Collection to gun collections, loving the thrill of travel in the U.S. and abroad, and basking in each other's companionship whether we're chatting up a storm or simply silent. We work and play well together, sharing similar values and perspectives on the world. We truly like each other ... still.
Tonight we get to celebrate once more the first of our two anniversaries. Our second anniversary celebrates our marriage, on a hot day in July, nearly five years after this fateful dinner. This evening, we'll share a favorite meal of lamb and asparagus, preceded by oysters and caviar, and our interest in movies. We'll light a fire and enjoy its warmth while we watch the awards being handed out. As I look across the room, even today, I smile - adoring the sight of this man that I love and feeling so very fortunate that I was smart enough to have invited him to dinner twenty-two years ago "today".
A hearty soup like split pea and ham is just what is warranted on these chilly days in January. We rarely have ham anymore, preferring chicken, fish and our beloved lamb, but you just can't make a satisfactory pea soup, in our estimation, without a meaty ham bone. So Peter and I cooked up a smoked ham for just that - the bone!
Years ago I created this recipe for Split Pea and Ham Soup which is the amalgamation of numerous recipes I read in books and magazines. We've never been disappointed and hope you'll enjoy it too.
Split Pea and Ham Soup
(6-8 servings)
1 pound split peas, sorted and rinsed
1 bay leaf
Large ham bone (from a smoked ham)
1 cup minced onion
3 cloves crushed garlic
1 cup minced celery
1 small thinly sliced potato
2 cups sliced carrots
2 tablespoons olive oil
A little water
1/4 cup dry red wine, optional
1/4 teaspoon dry mustard, optional
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme leaves, optional
===================================
Soup
Put mixture in food processor to purée. Do this in small batches and return the puréed soup to a soup pot.
Add ham bits.
Add red wine, dry mustard and thyme, if doing.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
Serve soup hot.
Peter and I have been invited to participate in a photo exhibition this coming weekend at Ashawagh Hall. The exhibition has been curated by Laurie Barone-Schaefer and is hosted by Hampton Photo, Arts and Framing. If you recognize the name Schaefer from a previous post, you may recall that Laurie is not only an accomplished photographer unto herself, but she is also the mother of the three boys, ages ranging from 3½ to 9, who exhibited their paintings at the Thank You Art Show in January. This show however, is photography-centric and will showcase the images of over 50 local photographers. This is exciting for us all and we hope, if you are near East Hampton and/or Ashawagh Hall, that you will come to see the show:
Saturday February 25th 5:30 p.m. - 11:00 p.m.
Sunday February 26th 10:00 a.m. - 4:00 p.m.
You can check out more details about music and food, etc. by going to the Hamptons Photo Arts website by clicking here.
In January, we were all really pleased with the turn out at the Thank You Art Show but we all thought it might have been even better if the weather had not been so cold, and the roads so snowy and icy. Well the weather forecast for this weekend is balmy by comparison - no precipitation and highs in the 40s. So take a break from your chores this weekend and come see some amazing images.
When we broke up the family home many years ago, one of the kitchen devices that I got was the cast iron Universal meat grinder. This piece of equipment always fascinated me from assembly to operation. The parts could be selected for the task at hand and each had it's place and a screw or bolt to hold it in place. As the handle turned, the meat would be fed by the threaded worm through the chamber to the cutting wheel and forced out into the bowl below by the persistence of the turning handle. It's truly a classic and in my eyes, a real work of functional art.
I mentioned recently that we were given a grinding attachment for our KitchenAid mixer for Christmas - a replacement for my classic, or so one would think, but if you know anything about me, I let go of the old with great difficulty. So when we recently set out to grind pork for homemade pork sausage, I decided the two should meet - the old and the new - the self-confident workhorse and the sleek aggrandized prima donna. Well, several hours later, the rest is history ...
If I've told you once, I've told you several times ... we are never bored. I started to photograph both devices with an eye toward the photography composition class I've been taking - wondering what I could do with the lines and light, and if I could tell a story. Peter quickly joined in and what fun we had. This slide show is the result.
You tell us, is there a story here ... one you find engaging and just a little entertaining? Does the narcissistic old meat grinder succumb to the charms of this buff, new beauty?
Photos & Slide Show ©2012 Claudia Ward & Peter Tooker
Music: The Euphonium from the soundtrack of "Mr. Majorium's Wonder Emporium" by Aaron Zigman & Alexandre Desplat
You're probably thinking that we have way-too-much-time-on-our-hands, but trust me we don't .... we'd like to do more.
What to do with leftover ham? Stuff peppers!
For Christmas our nephew gave us a grinder attachment to our KitchenAid Mixer, which has made grinding meats of all sorts a breeze! It attaches easily, grinds beautifully (coarse or fine), and everything except the knife and grinding plates is dishwasher safe. It also comes with a specialized plastic tool that is a pusher at one end (to help coax the meat into the grinding chute) and a wrench at the other (to help unscrew the ring that holds the grinding plates in place). You've just got to appreciate the mind that created that piece of useful art!
Grinding the cooked ham was easy; we then mixed it with some cooked rice, stuffed parboiled peppers, placed them snuggly together in a casserole, sprinkled bread crumbs on top, and drizzled beef broth over each pepper to ensure that they remain moist. Heat and serve. If you prefer you could always mix the ham and rice with some tomato sauce, and if green peppers are not to your liking, mix it up ... use sweet red peppers, the variations are endless.
Stuffed Green Peppers
(4 servings)
4 green bell peppers
2 cups of ground cooked ham
2 cups of cooked white rice
Bread crumbs
1 cup beef broth
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Bell Peppers
Ham and Rice
Assembly
What do you do with leftover ham?
This time of year, we love to cook meals "that keep on giving" - like a ham. We like the shank half because it's slightly sweeter than the butt half, has less fat and only one bone, making it easier to carve. A dear friend of mine shared her recipe for glazed ham years ago and I've been making it the same way ever since. The flavor of her glaze is what makes me come back to this recipe time after time. Brown sugar, orange juice, dry mustard, ground cloves and ginger, are spiked with a touch of cognac or brandy - tell me that doesn't sound delicious. The recipe is easy. The first and second meals are great: sliced ham served with a tablespoon or two of that wonderful glaze, accompanied by sweet potato fries and green beans, or some variation thereof. Then the leftovers are diverse and wonderful ... Stuffed Green Peppers perhaps, and/or Split Pea and Ham Soup. We don't have ham very often, but when we do we never let anything go to waste.
Carol's Glazed Ham
Seagulls are a generally an under-appreciated bird. Growing up along the coastline of New England, seagulls were an integral part of the environment in which I lived. They floated above the beaches on warm summer days, darted past one another during the spring mating season, and dropped clams and other shellfish on the concrete parking lots to extract the food within.
Seagulls are part of the Larus family and are most closely related to terns. The word larus is reportedly derived from a Greek word meaning gluttonous bird, a reputation these fowls do nothing to dispel. Most of us know seagulls to be opportunistic scavengers, birds that will be equally satisfied eating fish and crabs as they are eating your french fries or turkey sandwich.
Peter and I recently spent the weekend at Gurney's Inn out in Montauk. Off-season rates allowed us to get a room, with a balcony, overlooking the ocean. Facing south, the views were spectacular, as were the sunrises and sunsets. We spent most of our time either on the beach or on the balcony - always with camera in hand. The first morning we were there, Peter took part of his breakfast bagel outside to enjoy it with his coffee sitting in the sun. Well that apparently was an open invitation to all seagulls, near and far, to "come and get it". These birds that appear so docile and curious perched on a banister can become quite aggressive when free food is around. They will swoop in and take food right out of your hand and will fight off any others who might want to partake of a free picnic.
So here are the many "faces" of the Montauk Seagulls.
Photos © 2012 Claudia Ward
Music: Fuga a cavallo by Ennio Morricone from the original soundtrack of
"The Good, the Bad and the Ugly"
Note: If you've never seen this 1966 spaghetti western starring Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, and Lee Van Cleef, and featuring this stylized music as a fourth leading character, seek it out ... it's a classic.
I have a weakness for all things lemon, and lemon and sugar is simply an irresistible combination, so when I saw this recipe for Lemon Thins in The Gourmet Cookie Book, I knew they would be in our not-too-distant future. They are delicate, thin lemon crisps, and it's very hard to eat just one. As a gift for friends, they'll be remembered a very long time. So from the April 1976 archives of Gourmet magazine ... (drum roll please) ...
Lemon Thins
(April 1976)
Makes about 4 dozen cookies
In a bowl, beat 2 eggs with ⅔ cup sugar and ½ teaspoon of vanilla for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the mixture forms a ribbon when the beater is lifted, and add 2 teaspoons of grated lemon rind. In a bowl, beat ¾ stick (6 tablespoons) butter, softened, until it is light and fluffy and add it to the egg mixture alternatively with ⅔ cup flour. Drop the batter by teaspoons 2½ inches apart on buttered baking sheets, flatten the mounds into 2-inch rounds with a spoon dipped in water, and bake the cookies in a preheated hot oven (400℉) for 5 minutes, or until the edges are browned. Let the cookies cool on the sheets for 1 minute, transfer them with a spatula to a rack, and let them cool completely.
RECIPE NOTES
In October I did a post on the film "The Artist" that Peter and I saw at the Hamptons Film Festival. I was enthralled by the style, the acting, the story, and the music. "The Artist" won the Audience Award for Best Narrative Feature at the festival which is mildly entertaining as one thinks of "narrative" as relating to the "spoken word" and yet this is a silent movie. Yes, a black and white, silent movie about a romance in the era of silent movies. That, right there, should be enough to peak your curiosity and get you out the door.
"The Artist" was directed by French auteur Michel Hazanavicius and stars Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo. Dujardin won The Best Actor Award at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival for his role in the artist, and deservedly so in my opinion - his performance was captivating. The Oscars are coming up soon (February 26th) and this magical film has been nominated in multiple categories including: Best Supporting Actress, Best Actor, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Art Direction, Best Music, and Best Picture. In addition to those nominations, "The Artist" has won:
Golden Globes for Best Picture and Best Actor
Critics Choice Awards for Best Picture and Best Director
A Director's Guild Award for Best Picture
A Producer's Guild Award for Best Picture
A Screen Actor's Guild Award for Best Ensemble of the Year
We implore you, go see this movie, we expect you'll find it as colorful and sonorous as we did, and we hope it resonates with you the way it has with the rest of the world.
Food52 is the best food website I have yet to stumble upon. It's really a food community, where people share recipes and tips, cooks can follow one another, and cooking contests result in the creation of "crowd-sourced" cookbooks. Check it out, it's wonderful.
Recipes on Food52 are organized in the usual way, by food categories like "Appetizers, Entrees, Cookies, Soups, etc." but they also are sorted by "Top Recipes", "Community Picks", "Contest Winners", and "Genius Recipes". These Cinnamon Sugar Breakfast Puffs were the winner in the "Best Holiday Breakfast" contest. The picture was so alluring, I could practically taste the cinnamon sugar and I decided then and there that I had to make these puffs.
Well I made the puffs Sunday morning and they are pure ambrosia - the aroma of cinnamon wafting through the air was intoxicating but the flavor of these mildly spiced light little puffs covered in cinnamon sugar was sublime. Neither Peter nor I could resist having two and had to exert real self-discipline not to have even more. According to fiveandspice, the source for this recipe, these freeze well, can be defrosted overnight and then warmed up in a 200℉ oven, and that's exactly what we're going to do - with the next batch!
Cinnamon Sugar Breakfast Puffs
(Makes 12 regular muffin-size puffs)
The Breakfast Puffs
1/3 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
1 1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1 pinch ground cloves
1 pinch ground ginger
1 teaspoon orange zest
1/2 cup whole milk, at room temperature
"What's for Dinner?" © 2012 Sarah Ward
My younger sister and I were so thrilled with Kent Weakley's Night Photography eClass that I signed us up for his Composition class too. This class is equally as good but far more challenging, which I guess makes sense. Night Photography, in my estimation, was focused primarily on technique and execution, whereas, Composition is far more thought provoking in that we are trying to capture well-thought out images that combine photographic "ingredients" and "abide by the rules". "Ingredients?" you ask, "What sort of ingredients?" Well ... things like Contrasts in brightness, texture, shape or subject matter, Patterns, and Leading Lines. "Rules?" you ask. The ubiquitous Rule of Thirds, Leaving Space for Motion, and Depth of Field are three with which you are probably already familiar.
Our assignment this week was challenging and frustrating at the same time. Take 5 well-composed photographs, and ONLY 5 photographs at a single focal length, for example 90mm or 18mm, within a 10'x10' space, indoors or outdoors, using the ingredients and rules that we've learned. Sally and I have crawled around the floor and climbed step stools trying to get interesting perspectives, converging lines, and good compositions. This is not easy within such a small space and without touching the zoom on our zoom lenses.
Focusing (no pun intended) so hard on the assignment at hand led us both to need a break, and these were the results. We hope they both tell a story ... of sorts. More later!
Dolphins at the Bow © 2012 Claudia Ward
Ashawagh Hall, Springs, East Hampton, NY
Last weekend, Hamptons Photo, Arts and Framing sponsored the 3rd annual Thank You Art Show at Ashawagh Hall in Springs on the east end of Long Island. This is their way of thanking their customers for their patronage over the years. More than 100 artists showed their paintings, photographs, sculptures, and more. There was even edible-art in the form of cupcakes for sale, with the proceeds going to charity.
Edible Art Cupcake
The turn out on Saturday night was excellent despite the snow and slippery roads. The hall was abuzz with people enjoying refreshments, music by William Falkenberg, all of the art work, and each others' company; and, Sunday was equally as rewarding for the artists, as there was a constant flow of visitors right up until the show closed at 4:00 p.m. Live music by "Icepack" Jackson and friends provided a lively background to this day's event. Although the primary intent of the show was to provide a venue to display artists' works, several were also fortunate enough to sell their pieces too. At the end of each day, the hall was filled with a resounding "Thank You" from all of the artists to Dave and Ben, from Hampton Photo Arts.
"Duck" © 2008 Peter Tooker
I've created a brief slide show of photographs I took of just a fraction of the art that was on display to share with you the variety of art that was there. Peter and I each displayed a photograph, he displayed "Duck" and I displayed "Timeless", a photograph of a 1957 Flame-Red T-Bird.
"Timeless" ©2010 Claudia Ward
I must say, I would be hard pressed to say which pieces in the show were my true favorites, although I had a real soft spot for the acrylic paintings of three young brothers, Andrew, Charles, and MJ Schaefer, who range from 9 to 3½ years old. Their pieces were displayed together, vertically, in order of oldest to youngest. I think you'll agree that there's just a little bit of artistic talent in that family!
Paintings by the Brothers Schaefer
So The Thank You Art Show is Hampton Photo Arts and Framing's way of thanking the art community on the east end of Long Island, and this post and slide show are my thank you back to them.
Slide Show by Claudia Ward
Music: Woodstock's Theme from the soundtrack of Snoopy (The Musical)
Hampton Photo, Arts and Framing is a small shop in Bridgehampton but one that supports the art community all over the east end of Long Island. They provide art supplies of all sorts, printing services of nearly every kind, and of course framing, and have been doing so for over two decades. This coming weekend this local business is saying a big thank you to the art community they've come to know so well. For the third year in a row, Hampton Photo, Arts & Framing is sponsoring THE THANK YOU ART SHOW at Ashawagh Hall on Springs Fireplace Road in East Hampton. Over 100 artists will be displaying their artwork which will vary from painting to sculpture, from origami to photography, and Peter and I are participating. This is my first foray into the art community of the Hamptons, so I'm both nervous and excited. I can't wait to see the variety of art that is going to be on display and to meet the artists and creators.
THE THANK YOU ART SHOW begins at 5:30 p.m. on Saturday January 21st and will run until 11:00 p.m. with music, food, and art in abundance. The show will also be up for viewing on Sunday January 22nd from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. with music and refreshments available as well.
This should be a fun event and we encourage you to come to say hello, if you're in the neighborhood. We'd love to see you and we know you'll enjoy the variety of the show.
Moon Rising Over North Haven © 2012 Claudia Ward
After two years with nearly four postings each week to this beloved blog, we're going to take a short break.
I love creating posts and photographs for Open-Window, and love our interaction as a result, but as you may well imagine, it is nearly a full-time job. I've made some resolutions this year and find that they require my full attention right now, so we're taking a short break. I can't predict the exact date that we'll be back to regular postings, but expect it will be well before spring. In the meantime, I ask for your patience and perseverance. Please don't remove Open Window from your email subscriptions or your Google Reader, for if you do you may miss the return and new posts after that, and I'm likely to post at least a photograph or two in the interim as blogging is quite addictive and I don't want to go through complete withdrawal.
So, as the French might say, "à la prochaine" which means "until the next time".
Full Moon Above the Clouds © 2012 Claudia Ward
Photo © 2010 Peter Tooker
Assembling a soufflé, savory or sweet, can be intimidating but, in reality, it shouldn't be. When we recently made one of our favorites, a Roquefort Soufflé, Peter made a video of the process to demonstrate just how easy it is. The hardest part of this recipe is separating the eggs and watching the soufflé begin to deflate immediately upon being taken from the oven. Do not despair, that light airy texture and those divine flavors are still there. Just serve as soon as you possibly can, the warmth of a soufflé is part of its divine pleasure.
So here's the video to show just how to prepare this soufflé and the recipe is here once more for your easy reference. Next stop? Chocolate soufflé!
Video © 2010 Peter Tooker
Roquefort Soufflé*
(Serves 2-4)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus some for greasing the soufflé dish
¼ cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for dusting greased soufflé dish
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup scalded milk
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch cayenne pepper
Pinch nutmeg
4 extra-large egg yolks, at room temperature
3 ounces good Roquefort cheese, chopped
5 extra-large egg whites, at room temperature
⅛ teaspoon cream of tarter
====================================
Preheat the oven to 400℉. Butter the inside of an 8-cup soufflé dish 7½ inches in diameter x 3¼ inches deep) and sprinkle evenly with Parmesan.
Melt butter in a small saucepan over low heat. With a wooden spoon, stir in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Off the heat, whisk in the hot milk, ½ teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon black pepper, the cayenne, and nutmeg. Cook over low heat, whisking constantly, for 1 minute, until smooth and thick.
Off the heat, while still hot, whisk in the egg yolks, one at a time. Stir in the Roquefort and the ¼ cup of Parmesan and transfer to a large mixing bowl.
Put the egg whites, cream of tarter, and a pinch of salt in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat on low speed for 1 minute, on medium speed for 1 minute, then finally on high speed until they form firm, glossy peaks.
Whisk one quarter of the egg whites into the cheese sauce to lighten and then fold in the rest. Pour into the soufflé dish, then smooth the top. Draw a large circle on the top with the spatula to help the soufflé rise evenly, and place in the middle of the oven. Turn the temperature down to 375℉. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes (don't peek!) until puffed and brown. Serve immediately.
* This recipe is from Ina Garten's Barefoot in Paris.
It's official, Open-Window is now two years old. I can hardly believe I began this blog on a cold January day, sitting at the island in my kitchen, 730 days ago. In the past two years, Open-Window has focused my days on creating stories, snippits, and photographs that I hoped you would find entertaining, sometimes informative, and maybe even amusing. We've covered a lot of ground and many diverse topics over this time ranging from Hawaii to Paris, Hamburger Relish to Caviar, Horse Racing to Airshow Acrobatics. As time has passed, we increasingly focused on the images and slide shows that would accompany a post, and have worked diligently to improve the quality of all that we delivered. Peter has continued to emphasize wide-angle HDR (high dynamic range) photography whether on his DSLR (digital single lens reflex-camera) or his, ever-handy, iPhone, and I have continued with my love of all-things-macro, although we each dabbled in the other's specialty just to keep it interesting.
Mexican Train Tiles and Turtles
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward
Over the past twenty four months, we've made 388 postings to Open-Window which is an average of almost 4 per week, nearly every one containing at least one photograph and 60 of which included a slide show with music. When we embarked on this endeavor, we expected to focus on travel, food and photography. As it's turned out, the focus has been just that ... but in reverse - photography, food and travel. See, we'll photograph nearly anything - food that we eat, games that we play, children at the beach, machines of any sort, flowers and their residents, landmarks and landscapes, moon-rises and sunsets, and even light itself.
The Outer Banks of North Caroline
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward taken with the iPhone using the Pro HDR App
This year has been quite a journey photographically as well as geographically. Peter and I traveled over 14, 500 miles. We drove the entire east coast from the east end of Long Island to Orlando, Florida, traversing Florida, and turning north to reach Memphis Tennessee. We crossed the states of Tennessee and North Carolina end-to-end (west to east), photographing some of this country's most beautiful scenery in the Great Smoky Mountains. When we reached the Atlantic Ocean, it felt like we'd returned home, for tidal waters are in our veins, and the days on the Outer Banks are now cherished memories. Early morning sunrises over the ocean, wild horses on the beaches, hang gliding from the dunes, and fish tacos are just a few of the things we captured in-frame. With tornadoes nipping at our heels from western Florida, to Memphis and eventually to eastern North Carolina, we headed home just hours before their destruction hit the locales we'd come to know and love. Atlantic City was our refuge from the storms, before returning to the calm, untouched East End.
Spanish Mustang on the Outer Banks
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward
Thirty days and thirty nights, and 4,000 miles on the road gave us a tremendous, renewed appreciation for the beauty and diversity of this country we live in. A couple of hundred more miles were covered seeking out horses at Saratoga Springs in August. For one who isn't known as an animal lover, I do love photographing them. Whether in their stance or stride, they speak volumes to me and hopefully that is being captured by the lens. Finally, the balance of those miles (nearly 10,000) were accomplished by a trip to The Big Island of Hawaii, where we were able to photograph the incredible diversity of this island's landscape and all of its beauty from a helicopter.
Antique Hood Ornament
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward
More locally, we visited Belmont Park just a week before the Stakes were run and attended the Hampton Classic Horse Show every single day it was held over Labor Day weekend. There were at least three Antique Auto Shows, one Road Rallye and a Mini Cooper Scavenger Hunt that we shot as well. Our beaches on the east end of Long Island are some of the most breathtaking in the country (right up there with North Carolina's) and we spent many happy hours either hip deep in snow in January or ankle deep in sand in August, capturing the undulating shapes of their dunes draped in snow or the power of their seas after a storm.
Light Painting for New Year's
Photo © 2011 Peter Tooker
The holidays that dot our calendars were also not ignored. Memorial Day is always an homage to the "Opening" of the Hamptons season. Flag Day, the 4th of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving and the Christmas season were all duly noted and celebrated with photographs too.
Meaty Tomato painted by Barbara Andolsek
Let me also add, ever so humbly, that I have once again been thrilled that Barbara Andolsek continues to make paintings based on some of my photographs. Barbara and I have yet to meet but feel a friendship beyond pen-pals. Nearly 3,000 miles apart but with a shared appreciation for the beauty of the world around us, Barbara and I have forged a friendship that could only occur in this wonderful 21st century. It still astounds me at how incredibly open and selfless so many people are using the internet to connect, communicate, and share. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be a part of it.
The word "blog" is derived from the expression "web log", which originally was an online journal of sorts and has morphed, over time, into a platform for communicating and exchanging information and ideas. I want to thank you all for your enthusiasm and support over the last two years but more importantly for your participation - "communication and exchange" are exactly what has occurred when you've left comments for us, and you've made it just that much more fun and interesting.
So here is a slide show which represents a snapshot of Open-Window's second year. It's shorter than last year's and yet still longer than most at just under 10 minutes. Perhaps you can set aside a little time next Sunday morning. We've made this for you, to enjoy and remember a year that we shared, and for that I want to say with great sincerity "Thanks for the memories".
Photos & Slide Show by Claudia Ward & Peter Tooker © 2011
Music: Concerto in E-flat Major for Trumpet & Orchestra: 1. Allegro Con Spirito by Wynton Marsalis, National Philharmonic Orchestra & Raymond Leppard
P.S. Please feel free to leave a comment and let us know what you thought of year two and if there is something you'd like to see more of in the coming months.
"Playing with the Moon" is what this photographer calls this whimsical series of photographs that I found thoroughly enchanting and ever so clever. I don't often feature other photographers' images on Open-Window, especially ones I don't know, but these are so much fun and so original, I just had to; I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.
To see the photographs, double click on the words "Moon Photographs" and then scroll down through the collection. I think these are so imaginative and original. A friend sent me the link and it was entitled "Vorsicht! Monsuchtgefahr", I say this in the spirit of full disclosure and giving credit to the creator - I hope.
Photograph by: The collective efforts of Claudia Ward, Peter Tooker & Sarah Ward
Most of you know that I've been taking an eClass on Night Photography. This week's assignment has been Light Painting. Quite honestly, it's not the easiest form of photography to explain, but I encourage everyone to explore the subject in detail with Kent Weakley in his classes.
For the purpose of this post, let me simply say that light painting is done in a completely dark environment, with sources of light like flashlights, pen lights, and small LEDs. For this kind of photography, shutter speed is almost a "none-event" ... you can open the shutter, paint a still-life scene with various colored lights and when you're done simply close the shutter. It's a very different way of thinking ... at least for this photographer. The results are unpredictable at the start, happy accidents as you practice and improve, and thrillingly dramatic and artistic as you give yourself to the process, and the freedom and creativity it affords.
Now picture this: my little sister, my husband, and me, all in a roughly 8x8 bathroom, in the dark with the windows covered to blacken the room. We are all dressed in black and bent over a small bench which is draped with a black cloth, holding a sometimes empty and sometimes full martini glass. One of us is holding multiple flashlights covered with colored gels, one of us is operating small battery operated LED lights, and the last of us is counting out seconds .... in the dark. This environment is electrified with anticipation but also dangerous, because who in their right mind would put three grown adults in a small, dark room, with expensive camera equipment, a tripod, and fine glass ... no one I know!
The images in this slide show are the results of our very first foray into Light Painting. We had fun and can see the potential, we hope you do too. PLEASE, let us know what you think and if you have suggestions, we'll gladly receive them too.
BTW, Happy New Year to One and All! "see you on the flip side!"
Photos & slide show: the collective efforts of Claudia Ward, Peter Tooker and Sarah Ward
Music: West End Blues by Bob Barnard on Jazz Giants - the album
I can't decide which of Ina Garten's cookbooks is my favorite, but I can say I'm predisposed toward Barefoot in Paris - no surprises there. My favorite all time lunch is a slice of Leek Tart (made from Patricia Wells's recipe in her Bistro Cooking cookbook) with a green salad dressed in a mustard vinaigrette, but a very close second is a serving of this incredible soufflé with a salad. Light and airy and full of that wonderful cheese flavor - this is divine, and so much easier to make than you'd think. Don't be intimidated, it's never failed yet. My husband is the world's number one cheese lover and when I serve him this soufflé ... well let's just say he's in heaven.
Roquefort Soufflé
(Serves 2-4)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus some for greasing the soufflé dish
¼ cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for dusting greased soufflé dish
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup scalded milk
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch cayenne pepper
Pinch nutmeg
4 extra-large egg yolks, at room temperature
3 ounces good Roquefort cheese, chopped
5 extra-large egg whites, at room temperature
⅛ teaspoon cream of tarter
====================================
Preheat the oven to 400℉. Butter the inside of an 8-cup soufflé dish 7½ inches in diameter x 3¼ inches deep) and sprinkle evenly with Parmesan.
Melt butter in a small saucepan over low heat. With a wooden spoon, stir in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Off the heat, whisk in the hot milk, ½ teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon black pepper, the cayenne, and nutmeg. Cook over low heat, whisking constantly, for 1 minute, until smooth and thick.
Off the heat, while still hot, whisk in the egg yolks, one at a time. Stir in the Roquefort and the ¼ cup of Parmesan and transfer to a large mixing bowl.
Put the egg whites, cream of tarter, and a pinch of salt in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat on low speed for 1 minute, on medium speed for 1 minute, then finally on high speed until they form firm, glossy peaks.
Whisk one quarter of the egg whites into the cheese sauce to lighten and then fold in the rest. Pour into the soufflé dish, then smooth the top. Draw a large circle on the top with the spatula to help the soufflé rise evenly, and place in the middle of the oven. Turn the temperature down to 375℉. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes (don't peek!) until puffed and brown. Serve immediately.
David duChemin: VisionMongers: Making a Life and a Living in Photography
Jerry Courvoisier: Lessons in DSLR Workflow with Lightroom and Photoshop
Scott Kelby: The Adobe Photoshop Lightroom 3 Book for Digital Photographers (Voices That Matter)
Ina Garten: Barefoot in Paris: Easy French Food You Can Make at Home
George Howe Colt: The Big House: A Century in the Life of an American Summer Home
Kristin Espinasse: Words in a French Life: Lessons in Love and Language from the South of France
Patricia Wells: Salad as a Meal: Healthy Main-Dish Salads for Every Season