Big Sur Bakery Cookbook - Michelle Wojtowicz [0]
The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook
A Year in the Life of a Restaurant
by Michelle and Philip Wojtowicz and Mike Gilson with Catherine Price
Photography by Sara Remington
Photographs by Kodiak Greenwood
Photographs by Sara Remington
For our mothers…and Terry
Contents
Foreword by Eric Schlosser
Introduction
Our Philosophy
March
Breakfast at the Bakery
A Brief History of Big Sur
Profile: Jim, Pasture Farmer
Recipes
April
Dinnertime
Honey
Profile: Jack, Beekeeper
Recipes
May
Fishing in Monterey
The Mountain Lion
Profile: Eric and Jasmine, Porch Farmers
Recipes
June
Pork and Beer Dinner
TLC Ranch
Profile: Justin, Butcher
Recipes
July
Heat
July Fourth
Profile: Jamie, Organic Row Cropper
Recipes
Photographs by Sara Remington
August
Fishing with Wayne
Our Wood-Fired Pizza
Profile: Forrest, Poke Pole Fisherman
Recipes
September
Gary, Bacchus
The Hospitality Business
Profile: Mike, Host
Recipes
October
Phil and Michelle
Profile: Philip, Chief
Profile: Michelle, Baker
Recipes
November
Thanksgiving
Profile: Erik, “The Eye”
Recipes
December
Christmas Eve
Winter Debt
Profile: Marilyn, Bean Counter
Recipes
January
Chanterelles
Bartering
Profile: Wayne, Hunter and Forager
Recipes
February
Our Inspiration
Profile: Terry, Sandalmaker, and Rachel, Beader
Recipes
Epilogue
Basics
Recipes
Equipment
Techniques
Resources
Acknowledgments
Searchable Terms
About the Authors
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Photographs by Kodiak Greenwood
Foreword
“Big Sur has a climate of its own and a character all of its own,” Henry Miller wrote. “It is a region where extremes meet, where one is always conscious of weather, of space, of eloquent silence.” In the nearly half-century since Miller lived there, Big Sur’s extremes have grown more extreme. The droughts have gotten longer; the fires, mudslides, and winter storms, much bigger. And the number of eccentrics roaming the hills—like Miller once did, dragging a wagon full of groceries up steep roads while wearing only a jockstrap—is much smaller.
And yet Big Sur remains so damn beautiful that the most extreme thing about it is its vast difference from just about anywhere else in the United States. There are other spectacular landscapes, but none that like look Big Sur, ending so wildly and abruptly at the coast. In the early-morning light, as mist rises from the sea, the place feels surreal. It’s hard to believe that in the twenty-first century, amid the country’s most heavily populated state, where the car culture has indelibly left its mark, Big Sur is still remarkably unscathed and pristine.
A lot of people move to Big Sur with high hopes—and leave within a year. Despite its beauty, it isn’t an easy place to live. There’s a toughness, a strength, and a slightly odd quality to the people who learn to ride out the storms and coexist with the tourists. The unique spirit of the place comes not only from the land but from a community of people who’ve chosen to live differently from almost everybody else.
Like so many of my favorite spots there, the Big Sur Bakery is hiding in plain sight. You could drive past it a thousand times without noticing it. There’s nothing mass-produced about it, nothing predictable or pretentious. The bread and the baked goods are as good as they get; the food leaving the kitchen rivals the best in London and New York, without the attitude. The Big Sur Bakery is a little gem, set beside the road. And it is without question the finest restaurant in America with gasoline pumps out front. Mike, Phil, and Michelle have created a space where anyone is welcome—local, out-of-town, rich, poor, or strange. There’s a humility to the whole operation that fits perfectly with the grandeur all around it. I think Henry Miller would’ve loved it and would’ve gone there almost every night (as long as someone else was picking up the bill).
ERIC SCHLOSSER
Photographs by Sara Remington
Photographs by Sara Remington
Introduction
All of this wouldn