Special Occasion Brunch Dish

"When you wake up in the morning , Pooh,' said Piglet at last,
'what's the first thing you say to yourself?'
'What's for breakfast? said Pooh.
'What do you say, Piglet?'
'I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?' said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
'It's the same thing,' he said"

Certainly there is an occasion where you may want to prepare an over-the-top ultra indulgent dish for brunch. I am going to share with you one of my favorites that continues to please. It's not for the weekly or even monthly splurge as you do not want to know the calorie content of this delectable plate of energy!

Inspired by the Monte Christo famous at Willowwood Market Cafe in Graton, this is similar but without the Haagen Daz vanilla ice cream.


Take a fresh loaf of challah bread, slice into 2 inch thick slices.
Cut a slit in each slice and stuff with gruyere cheese and black forest ham.
Dip each stuffed slice into a mixture of whole milk, vanilla, egg and cinnamon.
Pan fry each slice in butter until golden brown on both sides.
Serve on a warm plate and top with sliced strawberries, chopped macadamia nuts and drizzle with hot maple syrup.
Uhmmmmmm!!!!!
Don't eat again until dinner time... maybe.

Earlier, locally ...

May 12, 2008

It’s 6:45 pm in Sonoma County, California – just west of the 101 freeway that runs north from San Francisco up thru the wine country. We are standing on fresh strewn hay looking at the organic garden of fava beans, fresh herbs, chard, onions, beans and strawberries – sucking on tiny ice cream cones of freshly made gelato and sorbetto.
The raspberry sorbetto is infused with a bit of Russian River Pinot Noir and the gelato is made from goat’s milk yoghurt with a touch of lavender. House-made salumi, cheeses and olives sit on the redwood picnic bench accented with a bottle of local Primitivo and a bottle of Chardonnay. The chef scoops up the soft gelato and beams at the guests enjoying the filtered dusky sunlight with a backdrop of retro music spun by a DJ that only employs vinyl 45’s for his repertoire. Her name is Duske, she owns this roadhouse with her talented chef husband John – who just left to pick up the kids.
And us? We are guests, but we are not from Manhattan, or Miami, or Chicago, or any wealthy suburb filled with subscribers that might have read about this place in the Wine Spectator.
We are just locals. We talk about restaurants like this. We eat here sometimes. And on the drive home through the vineyards basking in golden light, after a couple of glasses of the juice that fuels our economy, we are thankful, for everyday that we live here.



May 12, 2008
7:50pm – at home – sitting on the small veranda out front. I can hear Scotty singing along outside with the classic rock radio station. Many birds occupying the tremendously tall eucalyptus and redwoods compete for my ear. Tom, the handsome feral tabby sits at one end of the stucco wall looking back at me every couple of moments. He knows his name and finally saunters over to rub his neck and tail on the bottom of my chair. He was wild at one time, so much so that I never saw anything but the base of his tail for months. But love overcame him. Now he takes walks with us in the vineyard and drools if you rub the back of his head long enough. He shows off for visitors by running up the fig tree to the top, looking around, then scampering back down. He’s a good-looking big cat – silver/black tabby stripes, white muzzle, pink nose and yellow/green glowing slanted eyes. A broad nose and large paws belie his timid and skittish personality. Like the cat, right now I am in love with what is near me.

Cinco de Mayo

Returned from So. Cal. today. Got up early to leave for the North - just like I used to ten years ago, those that know me know that I do not get up early for much of anything.
My visit with family and friends was good. The best part was meeting a little girl under foster care. Her name is Emma and she is the closest I've been to an angel. Hmmm... went to the city of Angels and actually found one. :-)

Child

The blanket she clutches is worn through
Hair whisp held back with a bubble gum pink barrette
Her innocence is a breath of breeze
In this stale surrounding of adult meanderings

A book read slowly
Punctuated by picture points and giggles
Her rose petal cheek
Touches the bottom of her sky blue eyes
When she grins at you and says.
When will you be back?

Oh Emma!
To adopt and own you would be such foolery
This purity is so fleeting, but no less enchanting
Your jewel-tone words about dippy eggs and turtles named George
Make me tear up with their senseless beauty

God bless you and take you harmless.