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I’ll tell you a secret about my husband: In certain circles, he responds to the nickname Tuna. His is a story about the power of protein.
Do you know what the best part of a marathon is? The last half-mile. That’s where my parents found me in the Napa Valley Marathon and took these photos. You can see my finish-line exhaustion, then euphoria. I was really, really happy to see them.
My wave of East Coast nostalgia continues. Two weeks ago a cold snap nipped at the neighborhood, freezing my basil plants and fogging up my breath, convincing me to unearth a wardrobe that until lately I wasn’t entirely convinced I would need again. You’ll have to indulge me as I dust off my pea coat, boots, pashmina, and a few favorite recipes that served me well in Washington, D.C.
Did someone say crabs?
Am I the only misguided Washingtonian who believed Dungeness crabs hail exclusively from the Dungeness Spit, about two hours north of Seattle?
How myopic of me. It turns out Dungeness crabs scuttle up and down the West Coast, and San Francisco has its own rich history with the crustacean. Have you heard of the city’s famed seafood stew, the cioppino? Best served with a hunk of sourdough bread, this hearty tomato broth-based concoction of Dungeness crab, clams, shrimp, scallops, squid, mussels, and fish is said to have originated in the late 1800s with Italian fishermen in San Francisco’s North Beach neighborhood.
