Braille pageHere’s a lovely bit of news: The Library of Congress has selected The Santa Monica Farmers’ Market Cookbook to be translated into Braille (Spring 2010)! I am deeply honored that my work has been chosen to represent the local, seasonal food movement in Braille libraries across the country.

And here’s another: Friend and mentor Deborah Madison and her artist-husband Patrick McFarlin have collaborated on a delicious little book, What We Eat When We Eat Alone (Gibbs Smith, May 2009). Part memoir, part food anthropological dig, the book is a tell-all about our solitary eating habits that will make you whoop in recognition, cringe in horror, and marvel about what our choices reveal. The tastiest food confessions inspire Deborah’s 100 recipes, thankfully, none for fried Spam or Coffee-mate-dredged Life Cereal. Oh, and full disclosure—yours truly reveals her breakfast-for-dinner cravings.

I recently returned from The Symposium for Professional Food Writers at the Greenbrier in West Virginia, a sort of summer camp/thoughtful retreat for writers, editors, agents, and publishers. I participated in several panels, including one on self-publishing that generated lots of discussion with such folk as Bill LeBlond of Chronicle Books, Sydny Miner of Simon & Schuster, and rock-star food writer Michael Ruhlman (from whom I learned much about a writer’s discipline).

It was an inspiring week of food experiences that included a late-night salt tasting led by Mark Bitterman, founder and “selmelier” of The Meadow in Portland, Oregon. Mark is so passionate about his subject he travels with slabs of ancient Himalayan salt in his suitcase! And, I learned about Cape Cod’s local food movement from lissome Elspeth Pierson (Diary of a Locavore).

Eating locally is in the details. While in West Virginia, I met farmer Pam West and sampled her early-season Chandler strawberries. Supple, with a rounded, mellow sweetness, they were different from the more contrast-y Southern California Chandlers I’ve had over the years. I shared the berries with my Symposium pals, a small gesture that told a bigger story. For me, who had been enjoying peak strawberry season back home, the treat was a fun comparison between terroirs. But, for my tablemates from the Northeast where the season hasn’t started, the fruit elicited sighs of ecstasy as they bit into their first juicy berries of the year.

Meanwhile, my own local market was undergoing a radical seasonal shift during my two-week trip. (I continued on to western Massachusetts where I saw voluptuous wild ramps and luminous rhubarb at the Lenox Farmers’ Market.) Before I left home, the Santa Monica Farmers’ Market was full of late-season citrus and all manner of green things. Now, stalls abound with early peaches, nectarines, apricots, and cherries, which means it’s time to enjoy one of my favorite almost-summer meals: cherry-and-almond salad, a nice piece of blue cheese, and a glass of rosé.

As summer approaches, please consider your local edible school gardens. They especially need your help when school’s not in session. Three untended months of hot weather are the most perilous time for these outdoor classrooms’ survival. For those of you in the Los Angeles area, the Garden School Foundation has volunteer opportunities.