The sea perch have been running so I spent the incoming tide surf-casting at Doran Beach. I had major strikes at every cast but was unable to land any because I did not have any #6 hooks on hand. I noticed how fishing seems more poetic when no fish are caught, more of a metaphor for a state of mind. It becomes about the posture of standing and waiting, staring out to sea in a shifting contrapposto as the sands shift under foot with every retreating wave. My brain works well in this state, when my body feels like a Brain Stand.

My path to woodworking roughly follows this trajectory: fishing: baseball: architecture: rock and roll: woodworking. Fishing and baseball require standing and waiting in gestures that help me feel connection to the past. My father taught me about fishing and playing baseball as soon as I could walk, and I’ve always enjoyed the rituals attending both more than actually catching fish or ‘winning’. Architecture seemed to involve a lot of sitting so was lost on me. Rock and Roll required a kind of anxious standing and caused me neck pain. At its best, woodworking resembles fishing and baseball in both gesture and mental state, with the added benefit of producing predictable outcomes. I look forward to fishing more while the perch are running and I ponder upcoming projects in the shop.

Tagged: doran beach, fishing, sea perch, woodworking

If this holiday season is any indication, we’re beginning to see a backlash in values brought on by the worsening economy. People everywhere are simplifying, getting together and willing public celebrations into being as an antidote to the collective breath-holding pending the transition of power in Washington and all of its perilous promise.

Our family’s holiday has been almost embarrassingly Frank Capra-esque. It began at our friend Ted Boerner’s house in San Francisco on 20 December, where we met a small group of friends for cocoa and tomales before joining the Unsilent Night procession through the back streets and alleyways of the Mission District. The next night we attended a solstice party at Cindy Daniel’s farm in Healdsburg, where we were entertained by live Klezmer music while we munched latkes, smoked salmon, white fish, bitter herbs and rugulah and sipped champagne over a boisterous din. The party peaked at the launching of dozens of multi-colored, paper air balloons fueled by paraffin fires, whose fading glow we collectively watched fade into the upper atmosphere. It all felt like the ending of an era, and a poignant touchstone for the uncertainty ahead.

We spent the next evening in the banquet room of the Union Hotel in our home town of Occidental, singing carols and munching free cookies generously supplied by the Gonella family. For 25 years, the Gonellas have hosted a night of cookies and carols at their family-owned/operated restaurant, and the banquet room jams full of local families, with many college kids home for the holidays unselfconsciously singing alongside toddlers and elders, local characters, familiar faces and newcomers like us.

This time of year in West Sonoma the Dungeness crabs are practically dropping from the sky, so we made a huge batch of bisque for our Christmas dinner with Ene’s family in anticipation of a need for lighter fare after the traditional Estonian feast on Christmas Eve. Among my favorite meals, Christmas Eve dinner begins with a cold plate of assorted herring, dense brown bread and ice cold vodka. The second course features roast pork with potatoes, verhiworst (blood sausage), sour kraut and lingonberries, washed down with a melange of beer and ginger ale. After exchanging a few gifts among family we settle down to a dessert of ‘fruit compote’ with fresh cream and coffee.

Holiday Bisque

Clean and remove the meat from 4 pre-cooked Dungeness crabs. Set the meat aside. Rinse the cracked shells in fresh water, and boil them slowly in salted water with a teaspoon of whole peppercorns and 3 or 4 fresh bay leaves, about one hour, to make a stock.

In a Dutch oven  or heavy saucepan, slowly saute one large onion, finely chopped, in 2-3 tablespoons of butter, stirring in about 1/3 cup minced fresh cilantro when the onions soften. When the mixture liquefies, mix in the crab meat and then add 2-3 tablespoons flour, toasting the mixture over a slightly higher heat. Slowly add the strained crabstock, stirring to maintain an even consistency. Reduce heat and simmer the bisque, slowly adding cream and seasonings until just right. Serve immediately, generously sprinkled with cayenne flakes or chili powder. Serves 8-12 depending upon appetite and generosity.

Option: add 1/2 cup sherry or dry white wine before flour, especially if cilantro is substituted with parsley. Having made gallons and gallons of more traditional bisques and chowders in my youth, I prefer cilantro for its brighter, latin/asian nuance. I did not want to complicate the cilantro-infused flavor with sherry, but next time may try  plum wine. Suggestions?

Tagged: bisque recipe, occidental, Ted Boerner, unsilent night

What do ‘Pepe’ the donkey and the baby blue dump truck have in common?

They’re both about the same age for starters. They also both inhabit the same 120 acres of mixed forest, meadow and orchard owned by our friends Richard and Lisa Ernst just outside of Occidental. Richard grew up in San Francisco and spent summers in rustic bliss with his family on the land, which they purchased from Italian immigrant farmers who grew crops into the 1950’s. The fields have since returned to forest, which Richard has been carefully managing, diligently removing the many standing and fallen dead tan oak, victims of the disastrous epidemic of Sudden Oak Death.

A group of friends have been spending Sundays helping Richard cut the oak into firewood, which we take in exchange for our labor and all burn as our primary home heating fuel. Our Sunday ritual has become my favorite part of the week- a chance for all ages to work together on simple, rudimentary tasks, which we’ve already developed into a comfortable routine. Richard fells the trees, which Pierre drags to a clearing with the tractor. I dress the logs, removing all branches, which the kids drag to a pile or launch into the fire. Then we buck the logs into reasonable lengths, which all hands load into the dumptruck for delivery. We burned the brush yesterday under a light rain and took turns tending the fire, our limbs soothed by the intense dry heat. ‘Pepe’ the donkey hung around the edges, steam-cleaning her drenched coat.

Tagged: forest stewardship, sudden oak death, tan oak

Part of my ongoing experiment here is to develop high quality, low cost furniture from local materials for a local market.  I recently paid a visit to Berry’s Sawmill near Cazadero to check out their operation and inventory and was delighted to find an authentic, family-run mill cutting sustainable yield redwood and Douglas fir from within a twenty mile radius. The mill has been in continual operation since 1949 and is currently overseen by Bruce Berry, whose brother Jim specializes in forest management. I was impressed by the quality and breadth of their stock and their willingness to mill to order. I was equally impressed by the sheer beauty of their location, the professionalism of their yard staff and how their old-fashioned pragmatism  extends into their yard maintenance.Scraps from milling and off-cut are burned in this massive, homemade stove, which also keeps staff and clients warm on chilly mornings.The rambling yard is chock full of elegant, handmade gizmos, each one a clever exercise in functional frugality and recycling. I look forward to working with a mill that so clearly demonstrates its values.

Tagged: Berry's sawmill, forest management, recycling, sustainable yield

I love this chair. It lives outside the Northern Light Surf Shop in Bodega, California, a town familiar to fans of Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’. I pass through Bodega almost daily on my way to Doran Beach for a run, and sometimes stop for a chat at the surf shop and a dose of afternoon sun. I’m told the chair was once a rocker and that it has roots on the East Coast. It is incredibly comfortable, and has inspired my thinking of a bent greenwood chair made exclusively from coppiced material. On slow days, the surf shop owner can be found snoozing on the porch in the surf shop chair.

Tagged: bent wood chair, bodega, hitchcock, northern light, surf