Jana and Andy at Ted's Pop Up Dinner
Before I’d realized that this past weekend was Easter, I’d made plans
for us to drive to Santa Barbara and see our dear friend Sally Simms. You may
remember my blog post from last July when we, along with several of her other
friends, celebrated her life (with her) at Pine Grove Pizza. Well, it’s almost
a year later and she is still going strong. Some days, anyway. We also planned
a dinner with Verne’s older daughters, Lara and Raelin, along with their
families, and an evening with our friend “young” Ted (as opposed to one of our
other friends, “old” Ted). It was a full weekend and while it didn’t include a
sunrise service or a sit-down Easter dinner, it was a weekend full of love and
at times it felt downright spiritual.
Back to Sally and our first stop. The drive south on the 5 freeway past
acres and acres of orchards, in particular citrus orchards, was nothing short
of sensual. I can’t think of a better word to describe it. The trees were in
bloom and filled the air with the most beautiful fragrance in the world. I
found myself inhaling to the point of hyperventilating (almost). The hillsides
were lush with grass and happy cows busily grazing. Until we reached the Harris
Ranch, that is, where the poor wretched animals waste away their final months,
approximately 20% of their lives, living in their own excrement. Ready for the
final push into vegetarianism? Just visit the place and you’ll think twice
before ordering your next steak. Ok, I’ll get back on point. The intensely
green hillsides were framed by a picture-perfect sky with a mix of cumulus
clouds ranging from snowy white to an ominous gray. You get the picture. It was
breathtaking. And when I thought it couldn’t be prettier, we hit the 101 and
before long had our first glimpse of the crashing ocean waves set against the
craggy cliffs around Pismo Bay. I told you our trip was spiritual at times.
Well, this was one of those times.
We spent our first few hours that afternoon catching up with Sally.
Although I often talk to her on the phone, there’s nothing like a face-to-face
visit. I believe she had spent the prior week willing herself to feel good for
our visit, because she was in prime condition. That term, of course, is
relative. We have arrived in the past to find her in the hospital. Joined by
her daughter, Diana, we enjoyed a relaxing seafood dinner at the Harbor Restaurant.
Dinner at the Harbor Restaurant
Back home we talked late into the evening and woke up the next morning and
continued our conversation talking all day until we had to leave mid-afternoon.
Sally lives just a few miles from Shoreline Park and we’d planned to take her
for a ride in her new (and first) wheelchair and enjoy the beautiful day. We
were having such a relaxing and magical time together that it never happened.
We just sat for hours at her little kitchen table after breakfast and talked
and talked and talked. Sally’s had a full and interesting life, remembers just
about every moment of it, and shared a few entertaining stories I’d not heard
before. I took this picture of Sally “au naturel” as she sat at the table with
the morning sun casting its shadows on her. I found the picture to be beautiful
and honest, representing a lifetime in that moment. Aging is not for the weak
and her last few years have been especially hard. She remains young at heart
and I’m sure often frustrated that her body is at such odds with her lively
spirit. But rarely a complaint. She takes each day as it comes living her life
to its fullest.
Sally, my best friend forever
With a promise to visit again soon, we drove on to Fullerton to meet
the family at the Old Spaghetti Factory. Yep! Just like last time and the time
before. It became a family tradition over 30 years ago and one we’re not about
to change. Lara’s little boys, Mathew and Logan, dote on their older cousin,
Sam, who kept them engaged and entertained throughout the dinner. Kendall,
Raelin’s 16-year old daughter and our only female grandchild, entertained us
with her driving stories. She is just a month away from having her license and
will be able to (reluctantly) drive the family Prius on her own. Personally, I think she should hold out for their
new Mini-Cooper and let her mom drive the Prius, but the make and model of the
car seem to have little significance to her. Kendall just doesn’t particularly
want to drive. It’s her mom who is ready to have her behind the wheel. I
completely understand. I was so ready to give up the twice-daily trips from
Volcano to Jackson (40 miles round trip on windy roads) when the girls were in
high school that I strongly supported Jana getting her driver’s license. From
what I hear, Kendall is the same (overly) cautious, slow driver as her Aunt
Jana, in contrast to Raelin, who favors her father when behind-the-wheel. Aggressive.
The Whole Dam Fam
Saturday was spent with Ted Burns, sometimes known as Chef Ted. As
often as we visit SoCal, we’d never taken time to drive the additional couple
of hours to Redlands to see our young friend. When planning our weekend, I
contacted Ted about spending some time together on Saturday and he quickly
suggested that he plan a pop up dinner. Ted has been interested in cooking and
baking as long as we’ve known him, which dates to Jana’s senior year in high
school. At that time, he was mostly interested in eating. It was later after
some experience cooking and baking at a few local restaurants that his interest
began to peak. He attended UC Davis graduating with a degree in English and a
minor-of-sorts in food science and then went on to work for his aunt in
Redlands while attending the University of Redlands and earning an MBA. He has
continued to pursue his interest in the culinary arts on a part time basis via
these pop up dinners he hosts. The “pop up” concept can be described as a spontaneous,
social dining experience utilizing whatever venue may be available at the time.
There is little overhead, absolutely no long-term commitments, and in general
it avoids local health and other regulations. Ted uses social-media for his
advertising. He sets the time, place, menu and posts it on Instagram. Within a
day or so he had 20 people sign up for the Saturday-night event.
Venue for Ted's Pop Up Dinner
Gas station turned vintage clothing/antiques store and venue for pop up dinners
The dinner took place at the Redlands Country Mart, a former gas
station turned vintage clothes and antiques store. Where once gas pumps stood,
we helped arrange the long portable tables and chairs for the guests saving one
of the heavy (antique) plank tables offered for sale as a cooking station for
his butane burners and other cooking paraphernalia, along with all the food for
the meal. This is all sounding too easy. Backing up a bit, we had arrived at
Ted’s upstairs apartment at noon that day. We were promptly put to work, Verne
shelling fava beans while I did a little of everything including washing and
slicing/chopping lettuce, strawberries, and mushrooms; dishes; grating Parmesan
cheese; more dishes; helping with this and that; and more dishes.
Verne shelling fava beans for spring risotto served with grilled pork tenderloin
Ted making chile-lemon chickpeas
After a few
hours, Verne was finished with the favas and promoted to stove work making a
blood orange gastrique. If you don’t know what that is, it’s a tart, slightly
thickened sauce that involves caramelizing sugar, combined with citrus juice
and vinegar, and then reduced by about 75%. One step it doesn’t involve is setting
the kitchen on fire. Almost, anyway. Everything was going so well. Ted had
promised us a fun afternoon and while we were working our arses off, we were
having a good time. That is, until Ted’s one and only kitchen towel (he uses
paper towels and, apparently, the kitchen towel was there for decorative
purposes…I swear I didn’t know when I began using it) was carelessly placed
near the stove (okay, on an unused pot on the stove) right next to Verne’s
boiling gastrique. As Verne was completing the final step, I looked over and
suggested he turn down the flame that extended well beyond the edge of the pot.
At that very moment, the towel erupted into flames. I grabbed it and threw it
into my dishwater putting out the fire but not before it had burned both edges
of the towel. It was only after this that I learned that Ted’s one and only
kitchen towel was a hand-embroidered heirloom from his mother and not for
“serious” use. Oh shite! This was not good. But, in a twisted sort of way it
was funny. Here’s Verne looking kind of sheepish after the incident. On a
positive note, the gastrique was excellent!
OOPS!
Jana and Andy arrived shortly after we started setting up the tables.
Jana helped some, although she preferred browsing the vintage clothing and trying
on fur coats to setting tables. Andy fired up the portable grill, which took
some doing because we’d not packed the lighter fluid. Ted got busy cooking.
Verne went to buy beer (it was BYOB). People began arriving and by 6 p.m. the
pop up dinner was well underway. Ted was the perfect host and chef,
multi-tasking between preparing salads, cooking risotto, tending the pork
tenderloin and salmon on the grill, and socializing with guests. One of Ted’s
regulars helped serve, so Verne and I were finally able to relax and enjoy
dinner. We did, however, stay until the last guest had left and helped Ted
break down the tables, pack the cars, and take dirty dishes and all to a third
location where he had access to a commercial dishwasher. We left him with the
mess and returned to our hotel. Exhausted. But, we can now say we’ve
experienced pop up dining.
Pop Up Dinner (we're sitting at the far table to the left)
