Cody and I have been teased by the prospect of an extended trip to Japan for months and months and months. But our tickets are booked and it’s 99% official (barring month-long government shut down): we’re going to Japan.

I’ve been dreaming about getting out of the states for years, but the farthest I’ve gone is Bermuda – a lovely place, but not so foreign. I’m beside myself with excitement over our impending three-month trip, but I’m also terrified.

Of all the places I could have chosen to go, Japan was towards the bottom of my list. The highly-structured, honor-bound culture is way outside my comfort zone, and even though I call myself a foodie, the prospect of all that raw fish doesn’t really excite me. I’m more of a tartine or moules frites kind of lady. If life made sense, I would be going to France for my first time in a truly foreign country.

But Cody’s work is sending him to Japan for three months to launch a satellite, and I’m not an idiot, so I’m going with him. Honestly, it’s not that I’m not excited about going to Japan, I’m planning on having the time of my life, but I’m also intensely intimidated.

Contributing to my fear is the fact that we aren’t going to be staying in Tokyo or even mainland Japan. We’re staying on the tiniest spit of land in the region – a little island called Tanegashima. It’s going to take us two days to get there, and once we do, we’re going to get to practice our Japanese a lot, because the locals don’t speak English.

That picture above is a rice paddy on Tanegashima. This place is rural – the restaurants aren’t on Yelp, the hotels had to be arranged by a local fixer, and the only attraction is the space center. I think the airport has a McDonalds (correction – Cody just told me it doesn’t!), but the island is largely untouched by western culture, which is going to be so fascinating and so uncomfortable.

The photo above is a panorama of Cody’s hotel room from his last trip – tatami mats and sleeping on the floor.

The beaches look gorgeous, and supposedly Tanegashima is a little bit of a surfing destination.

Cody says the people are friendly and respectful and patient, but I haven’t been studying my Japanese so I’m sure I’ll test them in all areas.

This is a Japanese breakfast. Shriveled fish anyone? I’m sure it tastes better than it looks.

Rain, mist, green.

Some Tanegashima sushi!

Models of rockets launched from the Tanegashima Space Center.

Water and trees on the grounds of a temple in Kagoshima, the nearest big city (you have to cross ocean to get to it). UPDATE: just kidding, that temple is in Narita, but Kagoshima is the nearest city.

Did I warn you that this was going to be a huge photo dump?

That weirdness above is inside a medicine shop. UM. I’ve decided to not get sick while I’m there.

I know there’s a lot more to Japanese cuisine than sushi. I’m really looking forward to broadening my palate and eating some real ramen.

And lastly, the famous Hotel Chapel Christmas. Your one and only destination for all-Christmas, all-the-time, hourly “sleeping” accommodations in Narita. Not kidding.

Pinch me! And then give me some advice. I’m anticipating a mind-blowing trip, and I don’t know how to begin to prepare.

So, maybe I’m a cheater. I’ve heard that the only way to get really good, authentic hummus is to soak and cook the highest-quality dried chickpeas you can find and remove the skins (one.by.one.) before you do any blending (or eating!). But I don’t have that kind of patience for snack-making. Usually if I reach for a snack at all it’s because I’m already rabid starving. One day I will make hummus with my own scratch-made and hand-peeled chickpeas and I will tell you all that nothing less will ever do. But today I want to be lazy, I don’t want to plan ahead, and I want my chickpeas to come from a can.

So whatever, this isn’t authentic hummus. But it is lighter than the stuff you get in a tub from the grocery store, a million times more delicious, and it’s almost as smooth as the hummus you get at a good mediterranean restaurant. It also takes about five minutes to throw together, so for me it’s just the thing.

The trick to getting hummus that is light and fluffy without soaking or simmering or peeling is in adding and processing your ingredients in the right order.

The first ingredients that should hit the blades of your food processor are garlic, lemon juice, and tahini. When you process the lemon juice and tahini together, they create a light, airy tahini cream. My first shot (above) was a little too thick, so I added another teaspoon of lemon juice, scraped the sides and bottom of the bowl, and gave it another turn around the blades. I ended up with …

This tahini cream (above). From here all you have to do is add the chickpeas, about a half cup at a time, blending for about thirty seconds between additions. If the hummus gets too thick, add a tiny bit of water. If it starts looking like the right consistency but it still isn’t as smooth as you like, let it run for a minute or so and stop adding chickpeas. You might not use the entire can, but you can put the extra chickpeas on top for garnish if you like.

A lot of people like to add olive oil to their hummus, but I feel like the flavor of olive oil kind of overpowers the delicate beany-ness of the chickpeas. I love a little olive oil on top, but I prefer the texture and flavor of hummus without any olive oil processed in. If you want to, you have my permission to add the tiniest dash of cumin.

Serve it with peppers, cucumbers, pita chips, crostinis, or whatever else your little heart desires.

The recipe:

1/3 cup tahini

1/4 cup fresh-squeezed lemon juice

1 clove garlic, smashed

Process the above until thickened, light in color and evenly incorporated, scraping the bowl if necessary.

1 standard 15oz can chickpeas, drained

water (as needed)

salt, to taste

a dash of cumin (optional)

Add the chickpeas 1/2 cup at a time, adding water by the teaspoon if the mixture gets too thick. Process for about 30 seconds between each addition of chickpeas. Stop adding chickpeas when you reach your desired consistency (you should finish or nearly finish the can, but don’t sacrifice texture for volume). Process for another minute or two to eliminate any graininess. Salt to taste and add a little cumin if you want it.

Cody and I moved our stuff out of the storage unit we were keeping in Bel Air a few weeks ago. We realized we’ve hung on to a lot of crap – and it kind of grossed me out.

I don’t know if it’s an effect of getting older, but the idea of having fewer, prettier, higher quality things appeals to me more and more every time I pull a warped and shrunken forever 21 tee shirt out of the wash. It’s not that forever 21 doesn’t have a place in my heart and my closet. I just feel like it’s time I built a solid set of basics that don’t need replacing every couple of seasons.

I want to start collecting staples like the classic trench coat, the perfect ankle boot, the basic black pump. I feel like I need to start investing in these things if I want to stay sane and, in the long run, save money.

I don’t love shopping. I like looking at Pinterest and ogling store windows, but serious purchase-minded shopping is kind of exhausting for me, because working within a budget while trying to get great stuff is hard work. That said, I figure the more effort I put into searching and making smart choices upfront, the less I will have to shop, and the easier it will be to get dressed in the morning (that’s another thing I don’t especially love). I’m after the highest quality I can get for the best price – that sweet spot where longevity and affordability meet.

I want to crack the code on the point of diminishing returns here too, which I assume exists in fashion. For example, I have a feeling there comes a point where the price of a leather boot has more to do with prestige than actual quality. I have a pair of riding boots from Madewell and, though they are the most expensive shoes in my closet, they have held up beautifully, and I’m quite certain I will keep them for years and re-sole them several times before I buy new ones. Are Jimmy Choo boots that cost four times as much as my Madewell boots four times as good? I kind of doubt it.

Anyway, it turns out there are a lot of companies out there that agree with the idea that quality pieces can be affordable. Here are a couple I’ve found:

Cuyana is mostly about leather goods and accessories. My sister was gifted a monogrammed tote from Cuyana for her anniversary. It’s gorgeous and feels like it will last for years.

Everlane is one of those companies that make just a handful of things, but they try to make them really well. They seem to be obsessive about soft fabrics and perfect, slouchy fits – plus they’re made in the USA. I haven’t tried Everlane myself, but I’ve heard good things and have already ordered a few tees to test (I’ll get back to you on how they rate after a wear and a wash).

So I’m beginning a quest – for timeless, essential, investment-worthy wardrobe pieces that will simplify my life and polish my “look” (whatever it is).

Back in April Cody and I took a trip to New York to see the sights and hang out with my friend Amy.

She’s studying to become an art appraiser at Christies auction house and she took us to the MoMA where we learned a lot about the art there. I have to say I recommend bringing an informed friend to museums if you can, its better than a tour. I studied a bit of art in college, but definitely forgot most of it. The whole time I kept saying “Oh, that’s that painting, who’s that by again?”.

The famous Starry Night by Van Gogh. This is an accurate representation of how close we were able to get.

The Scream by Edvard Munch. Feeling so cultured right now.

Apparently I was struck by this beige number. I can’t for my life remember what it’s called. I even just googled “big beige painting in the MoMa” – no luck.  NEWSFLASH: I asked Amy, she found it (of course she did) it’s by Arshile Gorky and it’s called Summation.

This one is the Madonna by Edvard Munch again. I found her quite brazen for a Madonna and I like that sort of thing.

That’s one big pile of art. We totally get it (we don’t get it).

That’s me and Cody stopping to pose in Central Park, as we do.

The trees were just barely thinking about budding at this point.

Grand central station.

Posing in Grand Central Station, as one does. We tried to stay out of people’s way, but when you’re a tourist in NYC, it’s kind of impossible to not feel like you’re in everyone’s important way.

Bryant Park.

Having a little sit down in Bryant Park.

Window art on the High Line.

I think I love New York. All the Gossip Girl episodes I’ve been watching on Netflix have made me want to return for a little fall city action. I want to stroll down a sidewalk with a paper cup of something hot and wear couture to my expensive prep school. Or since I’m not a rich teenager, maybe wear Zara to Vanessa’s Dumpling House, but definitely with that cup. Fall excites me more than most seasons.

A million thank yous to my darling friend Amy for hosting Cody and me, touring us around, and helping us navigate the subway. You did such a good job you’ve earned a repeat visit! And we’re thinking about moving in. Lucky you.

Sweet corn is one of the most glorious pillars of summer produce. And is it me, or does summer corn’s creamy sweetness go just perfectly with bacon?  Aaaaand more cream? Chowder is the natural answer for combining all these fabulous flavors, but chowder? In the middle of the summer?

This recipe is the perfect chowder for summer. It’s rich and sweet without being unbearably heavy. That said, you should maybe save it for a day that dips below 90, like today if you’re in Maryland, as making it does require stove heat.

I found the recipe on one of my favorite websites, Food 52. It’s brilliant because it’s dead simple, full of vegetables, the flavors are clear and harmonious (not to mention a leeettle spicy!) and it takes advantage of  corn’s magic, sweet and starchy secret: milk.

This is what “milked” corn looks like. You “milk” corn after slicing the kernels from the cob by scraping the blunt edge of your knife down the side of each cut cob, thus freeing the pulp and juice from each little corn socket to fulfill it’s divine destiny. This is by far the messiest and most labor-intensive part of the recipe, but it’s also really the only messy and labor-intensive part of the recipe, so buck up. Everything else is stupid easy. Do the “milking” outside if you can, or lay out some newspaper before you begin. And don’t wear silk or cashmere, duh.

Brown some bacon in a deep pot and reserve it for garnishing bowls later. Saute onion, poblano, jalapeno, and celery in the drippings, then pile the rest of your chopped vegetables in the pot, including the corn and its “milk”.

Cover the pot and set it on the stove for a little over a half hour. PS don’t even think about subbing canned tomatoes for fresh here. The tomatoes don’t have to be perfectly ripe, but they do have to be fresh, and juicy (so no Romas either).

The first time I made this I was amazed by how much liquid came out of these vegetables. This is why fresh corn and fresh tomatoes are important – without them you won’t get all that broth.

At this point there’s almost nothing left to do.

Add cream and milk.

Garnish with parsley (and scallions if you have any).

Add bacon, a grind of black pepper if you like, and serve with crusty bread. Read the entire recipe for brilliant, perfect summer corn chowder here. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Tomatoes have always been my favorite vegetable, and I love vegetables more than the average human. Tomato season, for me, rivals holiday season. And I don’t even like summer.

Before I had my wisdom teeth ripped from my skull last week, I made a point of taking a trip to the farmer’s market to find the perfect tomatoes for my perfect tomato sandwich. These are they.

I also found this giant bunch of basil for $1.25 – which is amazing because those little boxes of sad basil at the supermarket are what, three bucks each?

Tomatoes come in so many pretty colors and shapes! This one is called a pineapple tomato, and it’s a little citrusy.

Tomatoes should not be eaten without salt.

You know what I mean?

For my perfect tomato sandwich, I made basil aioli. It was delicious, but not mandatory. Here’s a good recipe if you want to try your hand.

When you make your tomato sandwich you can make it with basil aioli if you want, or you can make a BLT, or you can use Hellmans, or even cream cheese. Just promise me you’ll keep it simple. This is about tomatoes.

This squirrel knew I was up to something delicious.

Toast your bread on a baking sheet under the broiler so it’s crispy on one side and soft on the other, and put your fillings on the toasted sides. This way you get the crisp texture of toasted bread without destroying the roof of your mouth.

Salt and pepper.

Revel briefly.

Assemble.

Consume.

Save a bite for Murdock if he’s very very good.

Happy tomato season. Savor it while it lasts!

I had my wisdom teeth taken out on Wednesday and it was my first actual surgical procedure ever. I had been freaking out about it for weeks, not because I was afraid of the pain or anesthesia so much, but because I was afraid of not being able to eat solid food for a significant span of time without risking the mythically dreaded dry socket. It’s hard to stay full when all your foods are slurp-able. My family has been going above and beyond to accommodate my new restrictions, which I love because they are the sweetest but also hate because I dislike being the subject of doting. But Cody has been keeping me in fresh ice packs and my fancy grandma made me fancy beef and tomato aspic (like meaty jello, but actually delicious) and vichyssoise (cold potato leek soup, also much better than it sounds). I have to be losing weight with all this liquid nonsense, but my cheeks won’t allow me to believe that. I look like a hamster with too many seeds in her pouches.

Anyway I wanted to let you know that in the last 36 hours I’ve seen a lot of TV and browsed a lot of interweb and I have some recommendations for those of you with down time on your hands.

On Netflix you should definitely watch “Animal Odd Couples“. It’s the cutest documentary about abandoned animals who adopt each other as companions. My favorite is the Jack the goat with his blind horse friend Charlie.

For those of you who are into food, “The Mind of a Chef” with David Chang (of Momofuku fame) is a great find, with 16 episodes for your extended viewing pleasure – also available on Netflix.

And lastly, for some online entertainment, I give you 40 Days of Dating. It’s basically a real-life romantic comedy where two friends who found themselves single at the same time decide to try dating for 40 days as an experiment, and document the whole thing. It’s prettily-packaged and the couple is super cute and hip. Start reading day one, no skipping ahead!

More posts about food are coming soon. I just wanted to let everyone know I’m not dead, just hungry.

It’s been a busy week! Last Saturday my dad flew his C-27 for the last time and my brother flew out from Utah so all the siblings were there to watch him land and attend his retirement ceremony. There’s this weird tradition among aviators that after their last fight they all get sprayed down with a fire hose. My mom did the honors and my sister and I followed up by spraying him with cheap bottles of champagne, provided by squadron buddies. I can’t believe he’s taking my mom and sisters to Texas in a few days! As the man himself would say: DISAPPROVED. Re-submit in 30 days for further disapproval.

On Monday I tagged along for my parents’ and the twins’ last Atlantic beach trip for a while. It was one of those sweltering, crowded beach days with boardwalks and slight sunburns and magazines and greasy food, and it was kind of perfect in it’s way. I actually submerged myself in the ocean for the first time in years and came out sputtering like a baby. And you know how they say pasta water should taste like the ocean?  Turns out I’ve been under-salting pretty severely.

The cone photos were taken within 30 seconds of each other, to illustrate the severe hotness of the day. I actually sort of have a thing against jimmies, but I saw someone get their cone dipped in rainbow ones and it looked so summer and perfect and I had to have them. Then they dripped onto my hands and tasted like nothing, so I’m back to having a thing against jimmies.

In attempts to take some group shots I came to the realization that I also forgot how to smile naturally for pictures. So much so that any time I try to take a photo I’m actually in I end up mugging (see exhibit A on the right). My lovely sister Caroline (on the left) said “think about (er something childishly gross)” and it did the trick immediately, so thanks be to her. She knows me well.

Heads up, the scone recipe to end all scone recipes is in development. Gird your loins.

I don’t even want to talk about how many kinds of salsa there are or what’s authentic or whatever. There are too many kinds and too many opinions. I want to talk about the ubiquitous red condiment that, with chips, graces the tables of Mexican restaurants across America.

My version of restaurant style salsa is focused on practicality, real ingredients, and especially flavor. It doesn’t make enough to feed a freaking army (though it doubles and triples beautifully) and it doesn’t have any weird “secret” ingredients, but it’s still adaptable enough for personalization – as salsa should be.

There are three tastes that need to be balanced in any good salsa: heat, acid, and bite. Bite is the word I’m using for the kind of heat that hits your sinuses but doesn’t linger on your tongue. In this recipe, jalapeno brings heat, lime brings acid, and raw onion and raw garlic bring bite.

Pulse together a quarter of a raw onion, half of a seeded jalapeno, and one small clove of garlic until minced. If you know you like things hot, go for a whole jalapeno or leave the seeds in. If you know you like onion, or if your onion is very mild, use a third to half of it.

Once the base of onion, garlic, and jalapeno is thoroughly mulched, squeeze in about half a lime, throw in a small handful of cilantro, and a pinch or two of salt with one standard 14.5 ounce can of diced tomatoes, drained. If tomatoes are abundant, ripe, and in season (which they will be soon!), use fresh, but if they are anything but perfectly ripe, stick with canned. Canned tomatoes will taste better than grey, mealy, unripe tomatoes any day. I’m actually partial to canned tomatoes in salsa because they are more restaurant-like.

Mix everything together in the food processor and taste it.

This is the time to make adjustments. If you want more salt or lime, or cilantro, add it now. If you want more heat or bite, make sure you give your jalapeno or onion a little dice before you add them, or you’ll end up with big nasty chunks floating in a near-puree, which would be bad.

If you want to be fancy, fry some tortillas and make your own chips. If you want to hack it, warm some nice, thin store-bought chips in the oven. If you have no patience for such nonsense, by all means crack a bag and eat.

I don’t need to tell you how this was made for cold coke and hot sun.

Here’s a break-down for your convenience:

In a food processor, pulse together until minced:

1/4 – 1/2 raw onion (closer to 1/4 if it’s strong, more if it’s sweet)

1/2 jalapeno, seeded (more if you like it hot, or leave the seeds)

1 small clove of garlic

Add:

1 standard 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, drained (I’m partial to Del Monte petite cut with Jalapeno)

1 small handful cilantro

Juice of 1/2 lime

A few pinches of salt

Adjust to your liking by adding jalapeno for more heat, lime for more acid, and onion for more bite. Don’t forget the flavors will develop as the salsa sits, so try to make it a few minutes before it’s time to eat. If you can’t though, it’s not exactly going to break it, so just eat.

Need more chips and dips? How ’bout:

The Ideal Guacamole
Asian Guacamole
Basic Crostini
Baked Ricotta with Honey and Almonds

Cody and I went on a road trip to see my grandparents in Tallahassee at the beginning of April. It was great. As you can probably surmise, I made the trip as much about food as possible, yet still managed to miss half of the food-related photo-ops there were. Anyway…

We stayed overnight in Atlanta and after watching the Atlanta episode of The Layover I had one thing on my mind: a double cheeseburger from Holeman & Finch. Everything at Holeman & Finch is made in house. Their menu is mostly small plates made for sharing and they specialize in charcuterie and delicious though infrequently-eaten animal parts. They also make cheeseburgers, and they are very special cheeseburgers. The kitchen turns out exactly twenty-four burgers per day, from baking the buns to grinding the meat to making the ketchup and pickling the pickles. The burgers are served every night at 10:00 pm on the dot.

The restaurant doesn’t take reservations and you can’t pre-order a burger, it’s entirely first come, first served. We rolled up at 8:30 on a Tuesday evening and the restaurant was packed, PROBABLY because it had been featured on The Layover, and the burgers were all spoken for. When we asked the server what time we would have had to get there to get a burger and she said “probably 8:00”. So there are people squatting at their tables from 8:00 (or earlier) to 10:00, ordering snacks and drinks and waiting waiting waiting. Not a bad problem to have if you’re a restaurant, but not a nice problem to have if you are me.

But that’s what I get for being Anthony Bourdain’s little sheep-woman. No, what I actually got was the most incredible chicken liver pate of my life, a delicious tri-tip in bourbon sauce, one bountiful and inventive variety box of freshly baked bread, and a fried apple pie a la mode. So I will continue to bleat and follow and bleat and eat, wherever Bourdain leads.

The next morning we stopped for a modest (ha!) portion of french toast before heading to the World of Coca-Cola to drink sodas from other countries. My favorite was the bitter lemon soda from England. It wasn’t bitter, just extra tart. The worst was something called Spar-berry from Africa, which tasted like strep throat.

Then we stopped in Serenbe to gawk at the pretty houses and try a pop from king of pops. Thumbs up for those pops.

My goal in going to Tallahassee was to introduce Cody to some of the south and visit my grandparents. I expected the town itself to be pretty snooze-worthy, but it was downright dreamy and so so cute. It was overcast most of the time we were there, but the light made the moss on all the trees look extra romantic.

One of our first stops was to a little place called Bradley’s Country Store which is the country-est back-woodsy-est little shop I’ve ever set foot in. That’s me in front of it, looking super happy about having my photo taken. Anyway, their specialty is sausage and, when we pulled up in the parking lot, three southern dudes on a lunch break tumbled out of an old, wheezy truck in grease-stained shirts and baseball caps and probably thirty teeth among the lot of them and called my grandmother ma’am and that’s when I knew that this place was real, and that the sausage would be good. And it was.

Those picnic benches are right outside of Bradley’s for southern dudes and ladies to sit at and enjoy a sausagey lunch. We took ours home raw, to be fried up later and made into red beans one day, breakfast another.

Then we toured around little Thomasville Georgia which is only about thirty minutes from Tallahassee and  found some fun antiques and creepy old dolls.

Later we found an old preserved plantation, drove around the grounds and admired the trees and moss and light. Then we went to the weirdest restaurant I never would have pulled off the road for, Kool Beanz. It was such an fantastic find and it was there that I had my first southern frog legs and fried quail. Their menu changes all the time and their offerings range from adventurous to simple and comforting, all with a southern flair.

The next day we drove all the way to Apalachicola to see the Gulf of Mexico. That part of the country is famous for oysters and they grow in such abundance that some of the roads are paved with their shells instead of gravel.

At the beach Cody and my grandpa turned into little boys and started collecting all the prettiest shells and bringing them to me. My coat’s rather large pockets were full of shells in about fifteen minutes.

All in all it was a really great trip, we had some adventures, ate some good food, saw some pretty things, and balanced all the travel with a taste of the retired life. Oh and my grandma introduced me to a trashy new show called Baggage where contestants have to choose dates based on their dirty secrets. It’s ridiculous. Set your DVR immediately. It comes on after Family Feud, and I only know that because I was smart enough to go to Tallahassee.