in praise of sardines

The Name Game: Castropoda (or some variation)

Help me name my future restaurant! I'd love to hear what you think of some names I've come up with... and I'd be tickled if you'd share your suggestions for a name. EVERY DAY I'LL POST A NEW NAME. Please express your honest opinions in the poll and leave comments. Thanks for playing the Name Game!

Our second contestant (of seven) is Castropoda or one of the other variations on the theme fusing Castro with epicurean words that begin with gastro (gastropod, gastronome, gastronomy, gastropub).

The Story:

My restaurant is located on Castro Street in San Francisco's Noe Valley neighborhood. Castropoda is a play on gastropoda, the scientific class that includes the snail. The snail is the symbol of Slow Food, an organization that embodies the ideals that I strive for in my cooking. "Castro" here replaces "gastro," which is the root word for gastronomy, the study of the relationship between food and culture, including the art of cooking. (See other variations on this castro-gastro theme below and let me know if you favor one over the others. Of all my upcoming name ideas, this one is definitely still a work in progress).

Pros:

Highlights location: restaurant is on Castro Street.

Slow Food connection: I have been a member of Slow Food for years and share the organization's philosophy (read this post for more information). This name subtly pays homage to that connection.

"Gastro" comes from Greek word for stomach and is the root word for gastronomy.

Gastropub: British term for pubs that serve gourmet fare. Positive association.

Potential for cute cartoon snail logo (would definitely not use the frightening picture on this post, which comes from my meal at El Bulli last summer. I included it here because it's Halloween. Boo! Click here for an even scarier picture from La Boqueria, Barcelona's central market).

Slight Catalan connection: Catalans are famous for their love of eating snails.

Slight blogging connection: there is a well-known, often hilarious blog by writer Regina Schrambling called Gastropoda. The variations below could be seen as paying homage to two of my favorite local blogs, Fatemeh Khatibloo's Gastronomie and the group blog Gastronome.

Cons:

Let's face it, "gastro" does not have the same positive connotations in American English as it seems to have in the UK. In the US it is more associated with negative medical terms, like gastroenteritis. As gastopubs have begun to open in the US, perhaps this will change.

Not everyone is a fan of the snail. Especially not gardeners!

Location confusion: People may think restaurant is in the Castro, a nearby neighborhood on the other side of a very steep hill.

Somewhat esoteric.

Only tenuous connection to my cooking influences from Spain and her Mediterranean neighbors.

Possible variations:

Gastropoda
Castropod, Gastropod
Castromome, Gastronome: the "nome" is close in spelling to Noe (no snail connection).
Gastro Noe: when spoken, sounds close to "gastronomy"

What do you think? Take the poll and leave your comments. And remember, each comment counts as a raffle ticket in a drawing for a free dinner for two at my future restaurant (scheduled to open mid 2008).

Helpful links:

The restaurant's concept
Suggested guidelines for comments
Suggest your own name idea here

The Name Game: Olallie

Help me name my future restaurant! I'd love to hear what you think of some names I've come up with... and I'd be tickled if you'd share your suggestions for a name. EVERY DAY I'LL POST A NEW NAME. Please express your honest opinions in the poll and leave comments. Thanks for playing the Name Game!

Most of you are already familiar with our first contestant: Olallie.

The Story:

The name Olallie comes from olallieberry, a favorite locally grown blackberry hybrid. Many locals, particularly in family-friendly Noe Valley, trek down to Pescadero every summer to pick the delicate, juicy berries directly in the fields. For many city dwellers, it is the one day they visit a farm each year. Naming my restaurant after the olallieberry highlights my restaurant's focus on forging a relationship between farmer and diner, the "field to fork" connection.

Pros:

Places emphasis on "field to fork" connection.

Local. Olallieberries are almost exclusively grown in the Bay Area.

Fun to say. Sounds like a song. Feels like a smile. Lots of positive connotations. Pies. Jam.

Already established: associated as name for my restaurant for the past year.

Somewhat quirky. Generic word for "berry" in Chinook jargon.

Cons:

Difficult to pronounce. May require pronunciation guideline on menus and website.

Confusion over correct pronunciation. o-LA-lee, o-LA-leh, or o-LA-la. (Never, however, o-la-LEE, which sounds vaguely French to my ear and recalls a rather silly Beattles song. You know the one. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on....).

Difficult to spell. Often misspelled Ollalie.

Requires explanation: "Olallie, as in olallieberry, a type of local blackberry."

No connection to my cooking influences from Spain and her Mediterranean neighbors.

What do you think? Take the poll and leave your comments. And remember, each comment counts as a raffle ticket in a drawing for a free dinner for two at my future restaurant (scheduled to open mid 2008).

Helpful links:

The restaurant's concept
Suggested guidelines for comments
Suggest your own name idea here

The Name Game: the Concept (+ Prizes!)

Over the next week or so, we (that's right, you and I) are going to work together to come up with a name for my future restaurant. Exciting, no? To help bring you up to speed so that we're all on the same page, this post is my quick pitch describing what my restaurant will be all about. Use this summary to help guide you in your evaluations of the name candidates I will soon present and to help you suggest your own names.

Before we get started, I'd like to provide y'all with a little INCENTIVE to help stimulate your creativity. It is, after all, Monday. So here's the incentive: meet me at the cafe downstairs and I'll buy you a cup of coffee.

No, actually it's this: PRIZES! There will be at least one and possibly two WINNERS. Winner Number One will be selected at random from all the people who leave comments on any of the Name Game posts. Each comment equals one raffle ticket. Should I choose to go with a name that you came up with and  were the first to suggest, you will become Winner Number Two.

The prizes? I will treat Winner Number One to dinner for two at my restaurant. You'll also be guaranteed an invitation to one of the pre-opening fun-raising dinners and the opening party. Not a local? No problem. Know that you will have a complimentary dinner waiting for you on your next visit to San Francisco. And, really, who amongst you isn't planning or at least dreaming of a trip to our beautiful city by the Bay? Winning will give you one more reason to start saving.

In the event that there is a Winner Number Two, he or she will win dinner for four at my restaurant plus the same pre-opening invites as above. Not only that, you'll get bragging rights. How many people can boast that they named a hip new neighborhood restaurant in America's food lovers' paradise? Imagine the smug satisfaction. If that's not enough, know you'll have this chef's eternal gratitude. Muchos gracias!

Time to put on your thinking caps. Let's get down to work!

THE RESTAURANT'S CONCEPT

Quick Elevator Pitch: seasonal, sustainable California fare with Spanish flair

Longer Previously Unreleased Extended Dance Remix:

Concept: Sustainable neighborhood joint

Sustainable? "Field to fork." My team and I will commit ourselves to working with local producers to bring our guests delicious seasonal food raised, harvested, and foraged in an ecologically sound way. It's what my friends at Ethicurean call SOLE food: sustainable, organic, local, ethical.

Neighborhood? Reflecting the hip, progressive, family-friendly vibe that characterizes Noe Valley and the surrounding neighborhoods, like the Castro, the Mission, Bernal Heights, Diamond Heights and Twin Peaks.

Joint??? Emphasis on fun and conviviality! It's the best American term I can think of for what my friends in Madrid and San Sebastián might call a bar de tapas or bar de pintxos, in London a gastro pub, in Paris a bar au vin or perhaps a bistro. It's not quite a white table cloth restaurant, but more than a wine bar. It's a place to gather with your friends to celebrate food, wine, and life.

Food: seasonal, sustainable California fare with Spanish flair

Food cooked with love: lovingly prepared, simply presented, boldly flavored. The menu of mostly small plates will draw its inspiration from the various distinct regional cuisines of Spain, especially Catalonia, with occasional forays into neighboring Morocco, southern France, and Italy. I place emphasis on Spanish flair, because I hope my restaurant's food and atmosphere will evoke the jubilant alegría I've so often experienced dining in casual restaurants throughout Spain. My kitchen and I will dance to the beat of the seasons, changing our menu frequently, according to the songs (fruits) and poems (vegetables) of the Garden Muse.

Beverages: beer, wine, and (possibly) cocktails

Well-edited wine list chosen to complement the lusty, rustic flavors of the food. Sourced primarily from California, Spain, and France. If cocktails are served, the bar will draw from the same inspirations as the kitchen.

Service: casual, proficient hospitality

You'll be treated like a guest coming to my home for dinner. Casual meaning not stiff and formal. Proficient meaning quick and efficient, yet correct. You won't learn your server's name unless you ask. Your plates won't be cleared until everyone is finished. You won't be asked "are you're still working on that?"

Reservations?  Seating will be split more or less evenly between reservations and walk-ins. It's a win-win for both planners and procrastinators.

Ambience: convivial, energetic, green design

The overall look and feel will be barn meets loft (aka "urban farmhouse"). There will be, as my architects are fond of saying, conversations between the indoor restaurant space and the outdoor garden spaces, and between the open kitchen and the dining room. The spaces will flow into each other. The materials will be primarily salvaged wood, stainless steel, and white tile. Walls will be white with accents of verdant spring green. Drawing inspiration from my favorite restaurants in Barcelona, New York City, and here in San Francisco, the first thing you will see, hear, smell, and feel when you step through the door will be the open kitchen with counter seating.

Nuff said. Hopefully I've dished up enough here to stimulate your creative juices. I'm looking for an effect similar to that of the aroma of cooking bacon on the stomach.

IF YOU WANT TO SUGGEST A NAME TODAY OR LATER IN THE WEEK, PLEASE LEAVE YOUR SUGGESTION IN THE COMMENTS SECTION OF THIS POST. If you already suggested a name on the previous Name Game post, that's fine too. No need to repeat it here.

Please return tomorrow to read my thoughts (pros and cons) and leave your opinions on name candidate number one: Olallie.

Home sweet home

I know, I know. I said I would post a summary of my future restaurant's concept today. Mañana, amigos. The thump thump that was fun on the dance floor last night is now thump thumping my brain.

Since you were kind enough to drop by, I'd be remiss if I didn't at least offer you a snack: grilled sardines with escalivada on toast. Escalivada is a Catalan salad of grilled or roasted summer vegetables, usually including eggplant, peppers, onions, and sometimes tomatoes. I cooked every part of this appetizer for you in my newest favorite toy: my fireplace. I heart you, hearth.*

Warning. Cooking sardines in your fireplace is a risky undertaking. If done improperly, your house could be haunted by the smell of sardines for eternity. Contemplate that on Halloween. There are two keys to help you avoid this fate. First, you need an excellent fireplace. I can't overstate my enthusiasm for the one in my new home, which is about 80 years old. I love it so much I've cooked dinner in it the last three nights. By comparison, my attempts at hearth cooking in my last house, built in the early 1950's, failed. The aromas of firewood lingered for days afterwards. I never dared attempt sardines. I wish I knew what made one better than the other, but I don't. Apparently they don't build them like they used to.

The second key is maintaining a medium to large fire. In his book "The Magic of Fire: Hearth Cooking," William Rubel describes the ideal fire for grilling as "a mature fire with moderate to high flames and a substantial bed of embers." Don't actually grill the fish directly over the flames, however. Grill them over the radiant heat of the white hot embers that you spread in front of the flames. High flames are necessary because they pull the smoke and sardine-cooking odors up the chimney and out of your house. Again, I'm not sure why. Something to do with physics. Or perhaps magic. I'd look it up, but remember: thump thump.

Escalivada from the Fireplace (recipe)

By contrast, I roasted the eggplant, peppers, and onion (whole and unpeeled) for the escalivada in a bed of embers and ashes in front of the fireplace hearth. In fact, the root word for escalivada, escalivar, means to cook in ashes and this is the traditional method for cooking the dish. I also wrapped a few cloves of garlic in heavy duty aluminum foil and roasted them the same way. The smoke permeates the vegetables. (Now, if I had an editor, I'd be required to tell you that you can, of course, roast the vegetables in your oven or over a gas burner. The difference in the end results, however, is akin to the difference between soaking in the hot springs of Esalen overlooking the cliffs of Big Sur and taking a bath at home). To finish the escalivada, I allowed the veggies to cool, peeled off the blackened skin, and tore the eggplant and peppers into strips by hand. I sliced the roasted onion into eighths. Then I made a dressing by mashing the roasted garlic with a few splashes of aged sherry vinegar and a healthy dose of extra virgin olive oil. Finally, I tossed it all together, adjusted it for taste with sea salt and more vinegar, as needed, and a sprinkling of chopped parsley.

Hey, check it out! That's the closest I've come to publishing a recipe on this site in many, many months.

I actually assembled the escalivada the day before when I served it with grilled lamb spread with romesco. For the sardine dish, I chopped up the leftover escalivada, transforming it into a marmalade-like relish. Then I spread that on grilled bread and topped with the sardine fillets. How did I grill the sardines? Now you're getting greedy. Do you want a sardine recipe too? Fine.

Grilled Sardines

Gut the sardines. Season with sea salt. Place in grill basket or directly on the grill. Cook until done.

Heh. Are you satisfied now?

Well, one more thing. This is an open letter to all the restaurant cooks who have overcooked my sardines nearly every time that I have ordered them. The properly grilled sardine should maintain all the tenderness and juiciness that makes sardines such a delight to eat. Like all fish, sardines should be cooked delicately, just to the point where the flesh firms up. I implore you. Please, please, please do not overcook my sardines ever again.

Thank you. I feel better now.

Why did I title this post "Home sweet home?" Could I really consider my new place home before I cooked sardines in it?

* Hearth. About 10 years ago I thought of calling my restaurant Hearth. I liked that it had the word heart in it, because my personal cooking goal and motto is to "cook from my heart." I referred to my restaurant as Hearth in all my old "restaurant ideas" journals (note to aspiring restaurant owners: start a journal). I was sad when, several years ago, some big name restaurateurs opened Hearth in New York City. What really galls me is that, as far as I know, their restaurant lacks a wood-burning oven or grill or anything that remotely resembles a hearth. To add insult to injury, I discovered that I couldn't use that name in San Francisco even if I had wanted to, because there's already a bar that goes by that name. Harumph!

Olallie Update (XIV): the name game redux — YOUR TURN!

Previous progress reports on Olallie can be found here:  Prequel, Intro, Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII

How's that old expression go? When life gives you lemons, make lemonade limoncello. That way you have something to pour over ice in a tall glass and quaff when Indian Summer lavishes your town with her hot love, as she has the Bay Area this week. Glug glug glug... ahhhh!

Where was I? Oh right....

Life's tossed some lemons my way and I've decided to embrace them, squeeze them, grate them, infuse them in vodka. The Buddhists say change, impermanence, is inevitable. The Borg say resistance is futile. You can't resist what's inevitable, so you might as well embrace those changes. Or, to put it another way (prepare for metaphor shift), I say let's surf that wave of change, even if it's a tsunami-sized tidal wave.

One way I've found to shoot life's curl, bra', without like totally eating it, is to shred that wave. Gnarly, dude! In case you weren't raised on the beaches of SoCal like I was, "shredding" is surfer slang for attacking a wave aggressively. It's not a stupid, angry testosterone-fueled aggressiveness. Rather, it's an aggressive approach within a container of calm. The surfer maintains a healthy respect for and understanding of the power of the wave. To pull shredding off successfully requires finesse, balance, a Zen-like awareness, an openness to constantly shifting conditions. It's reactive and proactive all at once. Like totally rad, dude.

The past few months, I've learned that the best way to shred Life's waves is to open myself up. Both in the sense of acceptance, opening myself to the vicissitudes of life, and in the sense of exposure, opening up myself, my heart, to others. Reactive and proactive. Remember my first post after my hiatus? Obert. Catalan for "open." It's become my mantra.

Over the past few months, along with selling my house, moving, running marathons, dancing the nights away in the desert, and taking a stab at street art, a thought has been simmering below the surface of my mind, deep down in the dark waters of my subconscious. I've been observing this thought out of the corner of my eye, even mentioned it to a few close confidantes. But I haven't really faced it head on. I haven't shredded it. The thought is this: "Maybe I ought to rethink my restaurant's concept and name. Not radically. Just tweak it a little to reflect my new outlook on life."

In the spirit of openness, I want to open up the naming process to reader input. So, hang onto your seats, dudes and dudettes. Things are going to heat up soon on my normally sleepy little webpage.

Next week you'll have a chance to voice your opinions on some potential names for my future restaurant.

Every day I'm going to briefly introduce a new name candidate and the rationale and story behind it. If you're a fan of the name Olallie, don't worry. It's still a contender.

I want to get your feedback, your input.

I also want to hear your ideas and suggestions.

I want to hear from longtime IPOS readers and first time readers.

I want to hear from frequent commenters and ~especially~ all you lurkers out there.

I want to hear from locals, Noe Valleyans, San Franciscans, Bay Areans, Californians.

I want to hear from Seattlites, New Yorkers, Americans, Spaniards, Catalans, Parisians, Croatians, Bombay-wallas, Hong Kongers, Afrikaaners.

I want to hear from Yelpers, Chowhounds, eGulleters, food snobs, wine geeks, Fast Food Nationalists.

I want to hear from people in the restaurant industry, from chefs, cooks, waiters, dishwashers, wine salespeople, wine makers, farmers, food artisans, fisher folk.

I want to hear from anyone who goes out to eat in restaurants. I want to hear from food writers, graphic designers, urban planners, doctors, tattoo artists, event planners, people who work for non profits, venture capitalists, cab drivers, politicians, homemakers, prostitutes, criminals.

I want to hear from you and your friends. Radical democracy.

Here are the rules: there are no rules. That's right. It's like Fight Club. No holds barred. Gloves off.

I do have some suggested guidelines, though.

1. Use aliases to protect your identity and keep your opinion anonymous.
2. Leave your comments about each name on the page devoted to that name. For example, keep comments about Olallie on the Olallie page (which will air first).
3. Use your best powers of persuasion to convince me why you prefer one name over another. Tell me why you love it or hate it.
4. Suggest a name. That's right, if you have a name of your own that you think would make a great name for my restaurant, toss it into the ring.
5. Anything and everything goes. Be polite. Be rude. Be constructive. Be stupid. Be clever. Be witty. Be flirty. Bribe me. Buy me dinner at the French Laundry. Send a bottle of 1961 Romanée Conti to my future restaurant's address (1320 Castro Street, San Francisco, CA 94114).

One caveat: all final decision-making power resides with me, the benevolent despot of the kingdom of Sardine-ia. Deal with it.

It's time to try something different. It's time we stick lemons in our mouths and surf the limoncello wave. It's time we drop lemons in our shredders and make lemonade at the beach. It's time we screw these nonsensical metaphors. (It's time I stop blogging after drinking a few glasses of wine).

The fun begins Sunday Monday.That day I'll present a summary of my concept to help you better evaluate the names.

Thank you in advance for helping me out!

And remember, no lurking allowed! Commenting required!

Olallie Update (XIII): When?

Previous progress reports on Olallie can be found here:  Prequel, Intro, Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII   

Hardly a day goes by without at least one person asking me the question: when is your restaurant (finally) going to open? Do you have a projected opening date yet?

Here, at long last, is the answer (straight from the mouths of my contractors): late spring/early summer 2008. Construction will start at the end of next month!

(For those keeping score, the unanticipated detour in my life tacked on an additional 6 or 7 months. Otherwise, my restaurant was due to open in December, which itself was 6 or 8 months later than I had hoped back when I started this journey. Es la vida. Hopefully, the additional time will make the restaurant that much better).

Tune in on Thursday for an exciting announcement. Guaranteed to rock your world. You won't want to miss this.

Hola!

Hello newbies! If this is your first time here, welcome to In Praise of Sardines!

Who doesn't relish a day spent basking in the glow of the spotlight? Today IPOS is the Featured Weblog on the Typepad homepage (update: my 24 hours in the spotlight have passed, so click here to see what you missed). Thanks, Typepad!

I'm busily unpacking boxes from my move this past weekend, but I'll break for a few minutes to take you on a quick tour of my 2-year-old site. Follow me as I guide you down the righthand column of this page.

The inevitable first question is "Why sardines?" Follow the link below my picture to discover the answer. Next, click on the About link above my picture and read a little bit about me. There you'll discover I'm a chef and I'm opening a restaurant in San Francisco. You can read all about the ongoing saga in my series, Olallie Update, named after my future restaurant, Olallie. Olallie? That's a curious name. What's it mean? Read here to find out. Click here to see a slideshow of the kind of food I'll serve at my restaurant.

Other favorite posts are listed below my Categories and Archives menus under the heading "Take the Bait." One of my most popular posts is the true story of how I missed a flight for a slice of pizza. Check out the other stories, too. More recent posts you won't want to miss describe my journey to this year's Burning Man festival, my love for the kitchen I designed at my last house, and my girlish style of cooking.

Our next stop is the links to Slideshows on my FlickR page. If any thumbnail picture or topic grabs your attention, click on it to see more. The photos of my meal at Spain's El Bulli or my visit to the farmers' markets of Paris will surely whet your appetite.

You must be famished by now! If you're in the San Francisco Bay Area, you're in luck (if not, come visit soon!). Decide what you're craving, then check out my "Bay Area Shortlist" (the final item in the righthand column), follow the link, and go grab yourself a bite to eat.

I hope you enjoyed your tour. Thanks for visiting and come back soon! If you're curious about what goes on behind the scenes in the restaurant world, you won't want to miss my upcoming tales (and construction photos) of opening a little neighborhood bistro. Construction starts next month and the restaurant will open its doors 6 months after that!

Wow. That's soon. I better get back to unpacking my house so that I'm ready. Ciao!

Feeling lucky?

Then don't hesitate! Drop whatever else you were doing. Fire off an email RIGHT NOW to El Bulli (bulli@elbulli.com) to request a reservation for the 2008 season, which runs roughly from April to early October. Read Louisa Chu's post on Movable Feast for details.

I enjoyed my meal there last August, but once was enough for me. Good luck!

Hooked on phoenix

When I get an idea stuck in my head, I tend to go overboard.

Maybe it's the company I keep. I have friends who, when they decide to preserve the bounty of summer, can 100 pounds of tomatoes. Another renders his own lard in 5 pound batches so that he will never be without. Yet another spit roasts pigs and lambs in his backyard for parties.

When asked to display my Burning Man photos at today's "Heat the Street Faire" in the Dogpatch neighborhood of San Francisco, I got a little carried away. It started out simple. I figured I'd choose my 20 favorites, print them as 8 x 10's, tape them to a wall at the fair, and be done with it. Then I got an email from the organizers inquiring what the title of my "art installation" was. "Art installation?" I laughed. "That's a mighty highfalutin' term for a few photos stuck to a wall." I decided to play along. I responded that my installation would be called "Phoenix Rising," after my blog post that described my Burning Man experiences.

Over the course of the next few days, the phrase "art installation" churned around and around in my gray matter like a batch of gelato. "I suppose I really ought to make some sort of backdrop to mount the photos on. Cardboard? Nah, too flimsy. Maybe plywood? Ooo, I should paint it black to show off the photos better!" Gradually, as the days progressed, my vision snowballed. The result is what you see pictured above: 3 plywood panels each 8 feet high by 4 feet wide painted black. Spanning the panels are a white silhouette of a phoenix rising out a fire.

My inspiration was street art. I've always loved the freedom of expression found in murals, graffiti, and stencils. Graffiti artists are the bloggers of the art world.

The one graffiti artist I had ever met told me he favored European spray paints because of their vivid range of colors. I did a little research and discovered that one of the top brands was Montana paints made in a town just outside of Barcelona. Barcelona?! You know how much I love my BCN! How could I resist? I quickly ordered a bunch of cans online from an importer based practically in my backyard.

After I received my paints, I transformed my future restaurant space into an art studio. People, if you ever want a good release, grab a few cans of spray paint, crank up the beat box, channel your Inner Vandal, and get down and dirty. Having that much fun should be illegal!

My experiment resulted in two revelations. First, spray paint fumes cause a wicked high. There's a reason graffiti is done outdoors. Second, I gained a renewed respect for the mastery of graffiti artists. While I'm completely thrilled with my first attempt, I am definitely a "toy," the derisive term expert "writers" call us novices. But, hey, it's all about the journey, not the end result, right?

And remember what Martha Graham said. "You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open."

If you live in the Bay Area, come to today's Heat the Street Faire and check out my playful experiment up close and personal. It will be displayed near the Mariposa Street stage at the corner of 20th and Indiana Streets from noon until midnight. There will also be lots of art from the Playa, plenty of DJ's working their magic, and boys and girls donning their finest Playa wear.

Damn, that was fast!

First (and only) open house Sunday before last. Two offers that Tuesday. Accepted one offer next day. Yesterday, a week later, the inspection and loan contingencies were removed. Close escrow in 2 weeks on the 17th.

I guess my pretty kitchen worked her charms!

Time to get packing. Noe Valley, ready or not, here I come.

"Keep the channel open."

This inspiring quotation by the famous dancer and choreographer Martha Graham arrived in my inbox today.

"There is a vitality, a life-force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open."