Big Sur Bakery Cookbook - Michelle Wojtowicz [42]
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INGREDIENTS
4 Blenheim apricots, halved lengthwise and pitted
2 fresh lavender sprigs
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons sweet wine, such as Sauternes
2 tablespoons honey
Serves 4
Adjust the oven rack to the top position and preheat the oven to 350ºF.
Place the apricots, cut side up, in a cast-iron skillet. Add the lavender sprigs and sprinkle with the sugar. Bake in the oven for 10 to 12 minutes, until the apricots start to soften and release their juice.
While they’re still warm, drizzle the apricots with the sweet wine and the honey. Let them sit for 3 minutes, remove the lavender sprigs, and then serve. (You can also let the apricots cool completely and serve them at room temperature.)
Photographs by Sara Remington
Photographs by Sara Remington
August
Fishing with Wayne
Our Wood-Fired Pizza
Profile: Forrest, Poke Pole Fisherman
Heirloom Tomato Pizza
Rockfish Scampi and Flatbread
Whole Rockfish, Scored and Charred
Fish and Chips, Big Sur Style
Creamless Chowder with Clams and Mussels
Fresh Garbanzo-Bean Stew
Honey and Chamomile Ice Cream Terrine
Photographs by Sara Remington
Fishing with Wayne
August is such a busy month that when Wayne offered to take us out fishing, we jumped at the chance. What better way is there to spend a day off, after all, than bouncing around the Pacific Ocean in a fourteen-foot aluminum skiff?
After driving up to the crest of the bluff overlooking the ocean, we hopped out of his truck, making sure to avoid the poison oak that grows everywhere this time of year, and got ready to head down to the private beach. Wayne likes to be self-sufficient, so he has rigged up all sorts of systems to make it possible for him to function solo, like a zipline with a pulley that we used to lower our bag of sandwiches and cooler of beer. It’s powered by an old exercise bike set up at the edge of the cliff, so every time you want to send something to the beach (or bring it back up) someone has to sit down, gaze out across the Pacific, and pedal. It’s got the nicest view of any gym we’ve seen.
Down on the beach, Wayne uses another pulley system to lower his boat down from the rocks where he’s propped it and then sets up a series of driftwood logs to roll it toward the water. Sometimes you can just hop right in, but this time there was a series of large swells coming in. We sat in the shade of the rocks and ate lunch, waiting for a calm spell so that we could launch.
We had to abort once, but on our second try we made it out onto the ocean, navigating through a passageway of rocks. Despite the fact that it was August, the water was freezing—Michelle had on a wetsuit—and we could see our breath in the air even as the sun warmed our backs. (Wayne, however, went shirtless.) The water was blue-green and clear, and as Wayne motored us toward one of his favorite fishing spots, we could see kelp forests beneath the boat and jellyfish floating by. There was even an otter, relaxing on its back above the seaweed, that looked at us suspiciously and then ducked off for a more private place to swim.
Photographs by Sara Remington
Before this starts sounding too romantic, though, we should point out that we’re not fishing people. We grew up in New Jersey. Not the pretty, rural part of New Jersey, but the suburbs right outside of New York. Fishing—and anything about “country life”—was not in the picture. And we’re also too impatient to ever really get into the idea of fishing the way most people think of it: casting a line, sitting around, and waiting for hours for a bite.
But that’s not a problem with Wayne. He knows spots where there are so many fish that you can see them swarming under the surface of the water, and you can barely get a line down to the bottom without catching something. Fishing this way makes us feel like kids, probably because there’s no real effort or waiting involved. Drop a line, catch a fish. Drop the line again, catch another. Floating on a skiff off the Pacific coast, looking up at the cliffs that most people