Dungeness crab cakes on pea sprouts with lemongrass kaffir sake beurre blanc

When daddy’s away, mama will play, you’d better believe it!  Jonas high-tailed it to Japan for work last week and left Bentley and I to our own devices.  The first thing I taught Bentley to do was jump on the bed. Every self-respecting 16 month old should know how to do that, right?  The next order of business on my list of infidelities? Cram in as much slithery slippery savory sexy seafood as possible over the week (and do so while watching all the chick flicks I need to catch up on since the last time he left town).  Jonas isn’t big into our fair friends from the sea with the exception of Ahi tuna, so it’s not easy to get my daily quota. 

edamame starter

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I’m currently battling a minor fascination with all things duck.  I can trace it back to its origin- the amazing duck egg raviolo I was served at top Seattle restaurant Spring Hill.  Since then I’ve cured duck breast into prosciutto, used duck eggs yolks in pasta dough (amazingly elastic!), poached the eggs to perfection, and even fried an egg up on my slab of pink Himalayan salt.  When I was a child of five, my father got the idea in his head that he wanted to dapple in farming and ranching, so he uprooted our bi-racial family from a happy if crowded existence in southern California and transplanted us to a freshly purchased homestead with acreage in BFE Idaho.  The folks in the small town didn’t quite know what to make of a middle-aged white guy with his dark-skinned bride (my mother), her two black teenagers (my half-siblings) and a four-year-old towhead who thought she was a boy and ran around naked all the time (me).  Consequently, our family was largely left to devise our own elaborate entertainment.  Since my brother and sister were busy fighting with each other and trying to master the art of break-dancing in the pasture, I made friends with the dogs and ducks. 

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