Who in their right mind does not want to be a howling monkey?

If you’re going to go on a liquid diet, you could do far worse than to derive your carbohydrates from Australia’s Sheaf Stout. In a world of pussyfooters, Sheaf Stout will put bricks in your step.

Thank you, Sheaf Stout, for being in Portland, Oregon. You are far more than a meal in a glass.

I’m sketching out a plate presentation that will include these as an element. They are Cremini mushrooms poached in espresso with cracked Malabar peppercorns. I can actually see these working nicely in a number of plating scenarios for which deep earth flavors are called. Let me tell you something: Mushroom, espresso, and black pepper are a pretty earthy triangulation of flavors. I can also envision storing a large jar of these in the refrigerator as a snack or pick-me-up for on-the-go. They’d also probably go well in an antipasti configuration, and now I’m thinking I should try enrobing a few in chocolate. I’ll try some other mushroom varieties next time as well…

How pleased I was to discover that exquisite Fructal juices from Slovenia are available at Taste of Europe (1739 SE Hawthorne in Portland, Oregon). One of my absolute favorite juice beverages in the world is Fructal’s blueberry and aronia nectar, which I became addicted to in Zagreb. At only $3 a liter, it sure beats the hell out of paying $3.75 for an eight ounce serving of something inferior at Whole Foods. The premium blend of blueberry and aronia (chokeberry) juices is EXTREMELY high in antioxidants, and packs just the right amount of refreshing tartness.

If there is one single, solitary deed that is more restorative and reassuring than any other, it is quite possibly the act of baking bread. If you build the oven and fire as well, all the better. Working grain and water with the hands is not only a response to our own innate impulses, but also an answer to the deeper, voiceless parts of the world around us. Kneading is an act of communication with a nourishing result

Nema ništa bolje u tri sati.

Rakija (RAH-kee-yah) is the catch-all term for any kind of spirit distilled from fruit in Croatia, and it pretty much translates to ‘brandy’. Just as there’s apple brandy, plum brandy, berry brandy and so on, varieties distilled from different source materials take more specific names. Here are a few:

šljivovica (SHLEE-vo-vee-tsa) - plum brandy
lozica (LO-zee-tsa) - grape brandy
kruškovača (KROOSH-ko-va-tcha) - pear brandy
rogačica (roh-GAHTCH-ee-tsa) - grape brandy infused with carob pods

In Dalmatia, the king of all rakijas is travarica (TRA-va-ree-tsa), a sophisticated spirit acclaimed as a superb digestive aid and tonic. It is quite simply an infusion of grape brandy and a variety of herbs, and there are as many recipes for travarica as there are people producing it. Some contain as few as 10 herbs, while others can contain 20 or more. Travarica often contains rosemary, chamomile, lavender, rose hips, matgrass, juniper, thyme, currants, mint or sage, but the list of possible additions is practically endless.

Pure grape brandy isn’t widely available, but if you have access to good grappa (Italian grape pomace brandy), making your own travarica is not a complicated undertaking at all, All you need to do is insert the whole, edible herbs, flowers and dried berries of your choosing into a 750 mL bottle, fill the bottle with brandy and allow to infuse for at least a month. Of course, the longer you allow the brandy to take up the essential oils and aromatic components of the plant material, the stronger and more complex the flavor will be.

I : Actually, can I get a bagel and cream cheese as well?

He: Uh, yeah. Just a minute.

I : No problem, bro.

I paid for the roll. I went out on the patio, plugged in my laptop and set about the morning correspondence. I waited for the bagel.

He : (obviously frustrated, slapping the plate on the food window to the patio) Hey, here’s your bagel, dude.

As I picked up the plate, he was on his heels and gone in a poof. I looked down at the two halves of bagel, lacquered with a transparent, vaguely luminescent film of cream cheese. The piss froze inside me. One of my greatest frustrations in all the universe is a bagel with cream cheese that has practically no cream cheese on it, especially when I’ve forked over $2 USD for a dime’s worth of food. I’ve actually considered carrying my own cheese in an ice pack for instances in which a coffeeshop’s Give is vastly disproportionate to their Get, because asking for more cream cheese is sometimes akin to asking for the barista’s liver, roasted on a skewer. They look at me funny everywhere, not just in Portland. I’m not a fat ass. If I was a 400-pound man asking for a gallon of Coca Cola, I’d expect some resistance.

“Sir, you really shouldn’t.”

But it should be obvious to all that I consume cream cheese responsibly. I can handle it.

I’ve fairly recently returned to the US from a part of the world where breakfast is a shot of brandy, a demitasse of espresso and maybe a sweet roll or a lump of cheese. But Portland is a breakfast town. People want breakfast all the damn time here, and scores of eateries serve classic American morning fare throughout the day and eve. Perhaps it’s the cloudy, wet weather that makes the entire day feel as if you’ve just woken up, like an eternal morning. I don’t know. I still haven’t figured out what it is with these mild northwestern people and their breakfast, but I don’t typically do a big, hearty eating ritual on everyday mornings. Or afternoons. Or evenings. I’ll pound a few hundred calories in convenient pastry, bar or smoothie format in the misty morgen and get mine ass skipping along down the mossy lane.

Now, don’t get me all wrong. A big breakfast can be the poodle’s noodles, but it’s a distinctive occasion for me. It’s preferably a shared occasion, reserved for days when I have the luxury of lollygagging around the house in my underpants and bunny slippers, digesting my frittata, ganache-filled buckwheat crepes, grilled sardines and lamb sausages, toast, yogurt cheese, blueberry lavender jam, polenta and peach kefir. But I don’t want a large meal on Go mornings. It’s a gastrointestinal traffic jam, a general bringdown on my physical fluidity and mental poise. It constitutes an albatross. I’m wicked stupid after a big breakfast - food-stoned, you might say - and if I’m going to experience that stupidity, I want to enjoy that stupidity. Don’t ask or expect me to do jack shizzle for several hours, because I will flatly refuse and summon the hounds to dispatch you. Serious eating is a long, laborious process and it requires serious relaxation. Period. Them’s the rules.

So yes, my sweet babies, a bagel and cream cheese and coffee or green tea is typically adequate breakfastizing for me if I’ll need to be cutting and weaving through the great unwashed masses on the day in question. That means, however, that when I am in a local coffeehouse establishment for my morning repast, I WANT MORE THAN A GRAM OF CREAM CHEESE ON MY BAGEL, YOU LANKY HIPSTER IDIOT.

What probably looks to you like a decent penne rigate con salsiccia fresca is actually the jumping off point for a Sunday afternoon repast. I sliced cooked Italian sausages, diced a bit of prosciutto, chopped some parsley and sauteed it all up with sliced onions and garlic. Easy. Then I threw in some leftover penne rigate. Tossed. Added red wine, salt and pepper. Reduced. After evening out the ingredients in the skillet, I covered the mess with beaten eggs…

…and large-shred Gouda, diced tomato and more parsley…

I baked it at 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Sliced. Ate.

I love frittatas. I came up with a Dalmatian-style frittata for the menu of the hotel I cooked for in Croatia last year. I’ll whip it up and post photos with a recipe as soon as I can find all of the ingredients (and time). If you’re curious about traditional Dalmatian cooking, you should visit the site I’m developing for my forthcoming Dalmatian cookbook. If you’re REALLY curious, you should make a reservation for either the June7-16 or October 6-15 culinary tour of Dalmatia I recently finished putting together with one of Croatia’s premier luxury travel and destination management firms. Fun stuff.