Love Street

I have never liked The Doors. In fact I am lightning fast changing the radio station if I hear so much as one note from Light My Fire or Break on Through. But, ironically, not only do I live in their old neighborhood, and have an original print of Jim & Pam prominently displayed on my wall, and I have also recently decided that Love Street is a very, well, lovely song.

She lives on Love Street. Lingers long on Love Street. She has a house and garden. I would like to see what happens.

Yes, I certainly would. It’s unfortunate that I am so tremendously impatient, though.

It’s true: patience, timing, restraint and discipline are not my strong suits. To my credit, there are a few situations in which I have exhibited extraordinary discipline over the past two years. Well, really only one. And this was a situation I couldn’t control anyway. So I guess I didn’t exercise extraordinary discipline. But I showed strength with aplomb. I promise.

Very recently, in the situation mentioned above, my fortitude was put to the test because the external elements controlling things were no longer applicable. The driving force that I resisted and then buried was resurrected. I didn’t even know the force was still so strong. I thought I had conquered it. Or, at least, I assumed my mercurial heart had found sufficient distractions over time to keep a thick enough layer of dust on the matter to keep me from noticing.

So, here it is again. Staring me in the damned face. Getting me all dithered out. Forcing me to act patiently. Making me exert discipline. This, in the wake of the wall having crumbled. The rulebook and the game plan, as I understood it, out the window.

I know everything will be fine. I will be fine. You will be fine. But it seems like it’s been a long time since I just got what I wanted. Well, in this category of life anyway. I’m actually really lucky in most other departments.

Perhaps I simply prefer being the superintendent of a given situation. I cherish my (tenuous) control (or control issues) of most things in my life. I proudly wear my OCD badge.

I even asked the Runes for advice (No, I am not a magic kid). I drew Gebo, the partnership rune, yet it told me to “let the winds of Heaven dance between you.” Stupid Rune. Needless to say, I won’t be watching An Officer & A Gentleman or An Affair to Remember for a while. Heck, an episode of Grey’s Anatomy had me sobbing last week.

But I have been cooking. I have been going hog-wild in that little kitchen of mine. Spending a lot of time in the house and garden, so to speak. Perhaps because Valentine’s Day is coming up and I’ve been getting so many restaurants’ special menus emailed to me, I have been compelled to make unusual and (what I consider to be) sensual dishes.

I asked April over lunch yesterday what she considered a sexy dish. She mentioned a lavendar pasta. Intriguing. Then I was reading a fellow blogger’s post entitled Bread, Truffles and Champagne and nearly swooned with excitement. Truffles are rare, earthy, musty, sensual, powerful and incomparable to any other taste. I think they are wicked sexy. I also think B.O. (also musty) can be really sexy. So sue me.

What else do I think is sexy, you ask? Brunch. It is my most favoritest meal. I like to make it last hours and hours. I like it to be spent with the people I can have comfortable silences with. Those are also sexy.

So, up in my little canyon, in my house with garden, interestingly, a marble’s roll away from the real Love Street, with a mind filled with swirls of certain uncertainties, a mimosa in hand and Sarah Vaughan cooing in my ears, I prepared this and thought to myself: Patience, Grasshopper.

Eggs with Black Truffles (Brouillade de Truffes)
(Recipe from French food expert, Rebecca Franklin)

Serves 2

Note: Take care to continue whisking the eggs as they cook to produce this recipe’s signature curd-like texture. If you allow the eggs to cook without stirring, they will produce a scrambled egg texture - not the intended result.

4 large eggs
1/2 ounce black truffles, finely chopped or shaved
3 Tablespoons butter, softened
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper

Heat water to simmering in a double boiler. Whisk together the eggs and truffles in the top portion of the double boiler and add the butter. Continue whisking the eggs over the simmering water until they form small curds resembling cottage cheese. Remove the eggs from the heat, season with the salt and pepper, and then serve immediately, while hot.


  1. Love your Blog!

    I have had a link to your blog posted on my blog for some time.

    Would you do the same for me?

    Stop by when you have a chance!


  2. Anon,

    I will stop by today and check out your blog! Is it all Sacramento - related?

    Thanks for digging my style. I know I'm a bit quirky!


  3. YOU live on Love Street.
    Great writing, as always.
    "A marble's roll away..." - Absolutely lovely!

  4. I so heart your blog! I get lost in the stories and then rewarded with a great recipe. You're so the next food blog movie ;)

  5. Thanks for the sweet words, guys! I am so rewarded that you enjoy the stories and the recipes!!