Rosemary Lavosh Canapés with Eggplant Dip. Thai style Larb with Squid, Shallots, Galangal and Lime Dressing. Confit Duck Cassoulet with White Beans and Sausage. Rack of Lamb with Pearl Barley, Cauliflower Puree and Harissa. These are not the offerings of your latest local fine dining establishment but menu items for Neil Perry’s Qantas International Inflight Dining. And while the discussion of airplane food usually leaves so much to be desired, there’s no sense of irony in this program: it’s robust, delicious, and extremely ambitious. I was lucky enough to spent a few minutes asking Australia’s beloved chef how he brings quality ingredients and Australia’s best to diners at 36,000 feet in the air.

Matt: In-flight diners are treated to a Rockpool-designed meal on Qantas flights in first and business class. Have you ever included items that might veer away from this and come from your travels around the globe or say Spice Temple directly?

Chef Perry: Absolutely – I travel a lot and am constantly inspired by the food everywhere I go. That said, nothing would get a slot on a Qantas menu if it was not Rockpool style in terms of quality.  Some of our Rockpool dishes have been translated to work in the sky. Travel is the greatest gift – it is my single greatest source of inspiration for my menus for Qantas and in all my restaurants.

Matt: I’ve read that our palates are affected by altitude and flying conditions. Has this had any affect on how you prepare a menu for in-flight dining?

Chef Perry: Yes, we are constantly doing checks from the ground to mid air and beyond to ensure that the levels of taste are consistent.  If it tastes good on the ground it will taste good in sky.

Matt: What have travelers really responded to? Is there a single menu item that works well?

Chef Perry: The classic steak sandwich has become something of a signature dish in the sky – I’m not sure we can ever take it off the refreshment menu. For the most part though, our customers enjoy quality, unfussy food – the best produce cooked simply and beautifully, as is the Rockpool way.

Matt: Because menus are created on two different continents, how does one ensure quality control?

Chef Perry: The Rockpool Consulting group was created to help us control just this. I have a committed team of food professionals who create the menus, test the menus and spend a huge amount of their year travelling to the catering centres both domestically and internationally to ensure the quality of our product is both excellent and consistent across the board.This also carries through to service inflight where we consult in both business and first class.

Thank you Chef!

Will it be ok with you if I claim a compressed holiday schedule blended with a healthy dose of jet lag as to why I am only getting around to writing about my quick trip to Australia two weeks ago today? I came home after a 4-day trip and jumped immediately into 4 photo shoots. FOUR. The dust has settled, I’m reviewing my images and expanding my notes and wanted to share with you what a stellar time I had.

With an sleep mask, a bag full of magazines and two sets of headphones I boarded a V Australia flight from Los Angeles to Sydney (which was fabbbbbbulousss) to attend the Hamilton Island Great Barrier Feast, hosted by qualia resort in what must be one of the most beautiful parts of our planet.  Hamilton Island is a part of the Whitsundays, a collection of islands located off the central coast of Queensland, Australia. Rugged, verdant, with dark green peaks jetting out of teal blue water, it is a tropical paradise not far from the Great Barrier Reef. You might remember that this was the winner’s location for the Best Job In The World contest a few years back.  I see why. I was prepared for beauty, I wasn’t prepared for extreme beauty.

With 60 individually designed pavillions, qualia sprawls out over several hilly acres, making its way to the edge of the island at Pebble Beach. With dozens of awards under its belt, including 2011’s Australian Gourmet Traveller Award for Best Australia Resort as well as Best Spa, there’s a relaxed elegance to this entire place that I find right up my alley. Fusing a very laid back and carefree attitude with service of astronomic levels  provides the best of all worlds.  And driving around your own little golf cart certainly helps.

I began my mornings very early (I’m not one to miss a sunrise, especially when it rises over mountains that I can see from bed), usually with a short walk around the property and along the beach before heading to one of the pavilions for breakfast. The view each morning allowed me to absorb one of Australia’s most unique qualities: her light. Without getting too technical here (and boring you non-photographer, color-temperature measuring types), let me just say that the quality of light in Australia is beyond words. For this boy from The Golden State who has ample daylight most of the year, just seeing how the sun works down under was enough to cause me to snap photos, make notes, and marvel in its glory.

But really, let’s talk about those rooms.

I’m confident I’ve made enemies of friends and relatives after sharing via instagram and facebook my room. It’s been brought to my attention that in order to maintain these life-long valuable relationships I’ll need to bring them back to qualia, specifically this room. I’m a giver, consider it done. But you can easily see what I’m talking about when you see the room.

With apologies to housekeeping, a chair and power strip found their way into the massive tiled bathroom, where a sink counter became my temporary desk, the room doubling as a spontaneous office. It’s not that there wasn’t a proper desk on the other side of the suite, it’s just, well, I’ve always told myself I could live in a well-appointed luxurious bathroom, and I was pretty sure I was out to prove it.

One thing: bathing in not bathing with a view of the Whitsundays from a window like this. Don’t kid yourself. Human necessities become acts of grandeur.

Not that the rest of the room wasn’t worth it. Especially the bottle of Veuve Clicquot waiting for me.

As much as I could have hid in my room all day and night (with its own pool, thankyouverymuch), I loved getting out and meeting the other media attendees for lunch as the kick off for the Great Barrier Feast. If you’ll allow me to generalize here, here’s the thing about Australians: I love them. The whole bunch. Their spirit, their humor, their attitude, it’s all right by me. So I enjoyed a delicious lunch, sat back and listened to the lively conversation from Simon Thomsen, food writer and critic and emcee of the event. Also in attendance were James Halliday, Australia’s leading wine critic, Sally Webb, an editor from Murdoch, and many other journalists and editors, making for such a fantastic time. With all that food talk I was in heaven.

This year’s Great Barrier Feast was a weekend of amazing dinners, two Electrolux Masterclasses with Australian award-winning chef Dan Hunter, and plenty of delicious wines from Robert Oatley Vineyards selected by James Halliday. Not a stranger to the resort + food experience weekend, the Great Barrier Feast stands out above so many events in its ability to provide an experience that straddles education & excellent food with relaxation and pure chillness.  Try beating that.

Like a good American blogger I did my research on Chef Dan Hunter in lieu of making it to his restaurant Royal Mail in Dunkeld, Australia (that’ll be my next trip to Australia!) In a place seemingly near nothing (it’s 3 hours west of Melbourne), Dan creates cutting edge cuisine with a razor-sharp attention to ingredients and preparation. With impressive experience (spending time at Mugaritz in Spain as well as at some of the world’s finest restaurants), life at rural Royal Mail allows him to farm and grow his own produce, not to mention it also affords him the opportunity to walk to work and do his own thing. But what impressed me most was Dan’s singular vision and commitment to local ingredients. After enjoying Saturday night’s dinner prepared by Chef Dan and his team, I was eager to ask him about his vegetable-driven, beautifully plated dishes.

After explaining to him that my day job is as a food photographer, I asked him about aesthetics, something I’m pretty keen on.

Chef’s response: “I think food needs to seem untouched. I live in a very natural environment. I wake up in the morning, I open my bedroom curtains and I see trees and mountains, kangaroos, my dog. I have a shower, I have breakfast, I walk to work, I walk down a hill, across a creek, through a fruit orchard and I see clouds, trees, leaves, my vegetable garden. What I don’t see is structure. I see irregular, naturally occurring things. So when I put food on a plate, I’m putting natural things down and it seems silly to me to try to construct it too much. I say this to my chefs all the time: we want it to look untouched, as if the hand of man hasn’t been there. I mean, think of a forest with leaves on the ground, branches falling…it’s still beautiful. Imperfection in what we do and see are sometimes the most beautiful things.”

Speaking of nature, I may have gone off the food path with my request to tour the property with one of the lead gardeners. After walking around scratching my head with internal questions like “What on earth is this?” and “Oh wow look at that”, I knew I had to spend some time with someone who could answer my questions about the trees, plants and flowers. I said this place was paradise, right?

I must admit it was hard to leave qualia, but I was looking forward to my night in Sydney and checking out the new Darling Hotel.  If you’re thinking of attending the next Great Barrier Feast held again at qualia then lucky you. It’s a fantastic place. If you can break yourself away from that bathtub.

My blogger fine print: many thanks to qualia, V Australia, and everyone at Hamilton Island. Big California West Coast hugs to Michael Shah, Katie Cahill, Jill Colins (omgiloveyou!), Sophie Baker (omgiloveyoutoo!) and Debra Kelman Loew. As per FTC disclosure requirements, transportation and accommodations were provided.  Opinions expressed are authors own. All images © Matt Armendariz except tomato image in Chef Dan Hunter collage used by permission, © Andrea Francolini Photography.

This post is part of an ongoing discussion sponsored by San Pellegrino and their “delicious conversations” series as seen through the lens of food. This entry is about two of my favorite things: food and music. Wait, three favorite things if you count Dinner Parties!

Jobim, Getz, Peterson. Those names are equally at home in my kitchen as much as salt, lemons and olive oil. Growing up in a musical household where almost everyone played an instrument meant the sounds and songs from all over the world floated along with the aromas coming from the kitchen. They were symbiotic, forever meant to be enjoyed together in my world.

Fast forward to adulthood. My relationship with food has become my career, but it rarely exists without a soundtrack. If I’m photographing, there’s music. If I’m cooking, there’s music. If I’m writing, there’s music (but very very quietly, I might add). Like so many with a passion for cooking and music, it’s an integral part of my world.

Music playing casually seems to take on a whole new level of importance when we begin to talk about The Dinner Party. The playlist almost becomes a guest, as carefully thought out and planned as the party menu. The right mix can soothe, can excite, and relax and it can certainly annoy (for all the right reasons, but we’ll hear from Marc in a second).  Raucous tunes played over a formal meal might annoy; the same playlist at a David Chang joint might just hit the spot. Context is key.

Realizing I’m not the only one who spends a significant amount of time creating playlists for dinners and parties at home, I turned to the great big world of social media and a few fellow cooks and bloggers to find out what makes their metronome tick when it comes to dinner parties, cooking and music. I just happened to snag a professional music critic and rockabilly musician in the process and their answers illustrate just how thoughtful food and music lovers can be.

My guests included Sarah Kieffer of Threaded Basil and Vanilla Bean Blog, Sabrina Modelle of The Tomato Tart, Marc Schermerhorn of Baketard,  PR Goddess & photographer  Candice Eley and her husband, music critic and writer Jeffrey Terich of Treblezine.com.

I asked Marc  if he has a process for putting together playlists for dinner parties. If you know Marc you know he’s quite “spirited” and his answers didn’t disappoint Marc says “For me, it depends on the theme and the guests. At the basic level, if I’m doing some type of regional cuisine, I’ll generally try to play something that goes with it, but without falling into a complete stereotype (like playing mariachi music for a dinner with a mexican menu). iTunes has been great for finding recommendations for pop or jazz singers in different countries or regions with which I have little familiarity. That’s what I do when I’m trying for something elegant. Or on the safe side, I’ll play jazz or blues for a sit down dinner. Other times, I might choose music to torture my guests on purpose; for a friend’s 40th birthday dinner here we played calliope music all night and had a clown theme because she hate clowns. Again, it goes with the audience most of the time.”

See, what did I tell you?

When it comes to putting together playlists, Sabrina not only has a formula but offers a few tips: “ I do marry my music to my dinners and gatherings. I love jazz, and it’s my go-to music. Female vocal jazz like Ella Fitzgerald, Julie London, and Chris Connor makes the perfect backdrop for a fun yet sophisticated evening. I also love the feel of bossa nova for a larger crowd where people might not exactly know each other. A great trick when you want to have music, but not disrupt conversation is to go for something foreign. Bossa nova, vintage and modern French pop, and 60′s Italian tunes all make a great cocktail party.”

I asked her to share a few of her favorite artists as well. “I love Nouvelle Vague when I’m puttering around the kitchen. Melody Gardot is also fabulous for both cooking and entertaining. Julie London, Blossom Dearie, Astrud Gilberto, Stan Getz, Ella Fitzgerald, Eartha Kitt, Chris Connor, June Christy, Dean Martin. My favorite barbeque/outdoor entertaining music comes from a label called Wild Records out of LA- they’re traditional rockabilly with an uninhibited and a sexy edge. I like that in music, in food, and in a party too.”

When it comes to spending time in the kitchen, I asked Candice and Jeffrey how it works out for them. She says that while she doesn’t always listen to music when she cooks, she does love having it on most of the time. “My husband is a really big vinyl buff, and we have a great record player that is just outside of the kitchen entry. I think vinyl is the only way to listen to music while you cook. If I’m baking (it’s my “escape” activity), I’ll put on something kind of lush and thoughtful, like Bat for Lashes or The National. If I’m prepping to have people over, it will probably be something more like Cut Copy to get me psyched and in a good mood. And for whatever reason, old school classics from the late 70s/early 80s like David Bowie or Talking Heads seem to be what I reach for if I’m making dinner for just me and Jeff on a weekend evening.”

And in an answer I can certainly understand, I asked Marc if he listens to music while he cooks. His answer? “Constantly. I get twitchy in a quiet house, much to my partner’s dismay.”

Next I asked my fellow music lovers if they thought food has its own soundtrack. Does jazz equal a free-form recipe, while a well-structured classical tune might represent a difficult pastry? Do they tie certain recipes and certain tunes together?

Sabrina said “Oh definitely.  I am in love with pastry doughs. When I make pie crust, or biscuits, or other things that involve getting all floury, I love to listen to 1950s women rockabilly, country, and blues. I make these things without modern machines, and I always wear an apron. The music completes the 1950s housewife fantasy. I also use music to inspire my cooking. Maria Callas & I hang when I bring home Spanish ingredients. It’s the Bollywood Channel on Pandora when I’m feeling Indian. The relationship is really symbiotic.”

And our resident critic Jeffrey: “ I think food does have its own soundtrack, but it’s open to interpretation depending upon the person listening/dining. I associate punk rock with New York style pizza, for one, but not everyone might see it that way. A steak might go well with standards or jazz. Burgers pretty much go with everything, though I tend to like hip-hop for barbecue fare.

No matter if it’s the Ramones or REO Speedwagon (c’mon you 80s lovers, don’t pretend you don’t sing them at the top of your lungs!), one category reigns supreme when it comes to Dinner Parties: it’s definitely all that jazz. Sarah was speaking my language when she said “I put on a lot of jazz at dinner parties.  Lovely jazz with a little bit of swing like Ella Fitzgerald, Melody Gardot, Miles Davis, Blossom Dearie, Oscar Peterson Trio. This is what I listen to especially when its just me cooking. For dinner parties I like to sneak in some electro jazz and there are some great Brazilian artists that have some good groove like Ceu, Seu Jorge, Bebel Gilberto, and Rosalia de Souza, just to name a few. Other artists with some groove are St. Germain, Koop, Feist, verve remixed series, and Nicola Conte.  And for quieter tunes I have several albums I love like Chet Baker Jazz in Paris, Blossom Dearie Jazz in Paris, Peggy Lee Trav’lin Light,  Nat King Cole The Essentials, and Stacey Kent Raconte-moi. Really quiet is Gonzales Solo Piano.”

Ah, Solo Piano. One of my favorites from Gonzales, Sarah!

And Jeffrey’s thoughts on when things don’t always work?

“Generally speaking, right off the bat, certain genres or styles are probably automatically disqualified just because they don’t lend themselves well to a social gathering. I love ambient/glitch stuff like Fennesz and Tim Hecker, but that’s really something better suited to headphones and solitude. Plus abrasive stuff like Swans that will make your guests uncomfortable, and a lot of metal would be inappropriate. That said, it’s not entirely out of the question… last year we had a housewarming party of sorts and we played some Motorhead, which pleased our guests! Then it comes down to how many guests we’re having over, what kind of meal we’re having, what season it is, etc. A smaller crowd in winter will be more conducive to quieter, low key music, while a summer gathering with more people will be a lot more punk rock. After that I just start dragging in songs to iTunes playlists that I think go well together, that flow and seem to make sense together. It’s really just like making a good mix for someone, and I’ve been doing that since high school, so this just adds an extra element to that.”

I sincerely want to thank my amazing subjects for opening their hearts and heads and answering my questions about music and food. I could talk about this for hours! And thanks to San Pellegrino for inspiring the conversation through their Delicious Moments series! And tell me: what are some of your favorite tunes for dinner parties? I’d love to know!

This post is part of an ongoing discussion sponsored by San Pellegrino and their “delicious conversations” series as seen through the lens of food. I chose to participate because the idea of delicious moments with friends and family and food conversations that generate chatter interest me. Plus I was able to pick the topic and interview some of my favorite people. For my first post I’ve decided to write about something I hold close and dear – cooking with someone you love.

As a guy who has always known his way around a kitchen and been comfortable cooking at an early age, I’ve always known importance of cooking for myself. Spending my early 20’s in Chicago and then San Francisco, I didn’t always have the means to dine out daily and found the simple act of cooking for myself or roommates necessary. Soon the necessity became a pleasure as my access to stellar ingredients and unique global flavors incorporated themselves into my cooking.  I felt like a whole new world opened up to me, thanks much in part to the abundance of California fruits and vegetables and the numerous farmers’ markets practically in my backyard.

No matter how enjoyable I found cooking for myself, it really wasn’t until I hitched up with my better half and found myself with more space and resources (who says getting old always has to suck?) as well as the ability to step back and take my time with cooking. While this may seem like a luxury (All! That! Time! To! Cook!), it wasn’t necessarily so; it was a mandate, a requirement that bettered my relationship, my palate and my pocketbook – not to mention my soul.

So what is it specifically about cooking with someone you love that I, well, love? For starters, togetherness. In an era where we spend time commuting and computing (neither with much actual face time, I’ll add), being in the kitchen together unites us emotionally and physically. Hey, we have to eat, we have to cook, why not do it together? And as any cook will tell you, there are those moments where you’re so focused on the food that it’s easy to let the stress of the day take a backseat for just a moment. In our case, cooking means music & wine (sometimes more wine than music, if I’m being honest), and the act of putting food on the table isn’t a chore as much as a moment of therapy and reflection.

When we are in the kitchen together it just feels right. We file into our respective roles: me doing prep, clean-up and side dishes, the food stylist doing the main. However, if we’re talking pizza or grilling I usually step up to the plate, leaving more nuanced things like the precise world of baking to someone who actually reads measurements. Don’t look at me.

All in all, we have our routine. It works and usually yields some delicious results. But don’t assume all is glittery and happy in Kitchenville; we still have our disagreements but remarkably they never happen when we’re cooking together. Thank goodness considering there are fires and knives, that’s all I’m sayin’.

I decided to ask my neighbors, the lovely Wade and Brittany (that’s them up above), what it’s like when they cook together. As some of our most dearest friends, we’ve bonded over meals, cooked together, dined out, gabbed over ingredients and forged a wonderful friendship with two super cool peeps. I knew they cooked together several nights a week, but I wanted to find out why.

“Because we have to and our place is really small!” Wade said. “And also because we enjoy spending time together. He loves to cook, I love to eat” added Brittany, zeroing in on exactly what motivates me to cook with my partner. I imagine it’s also what motivates others.

“I cook every day,” he says,  “and because I’m health conscious and it’s hard to eat out everyday. And also I can use fresh ingredients. You can go out and spend lots of money on a meal that can disappoint. I can cook much better than many of the meals I’ll eat in a restaurant. But when we cook together, well, it’s beneficial because we both share a love of healthy eating and spending time together.”

I asked them if there’s a certain flow when they are in the kitchen together, and after a Lucille Ball joke made by Wade and a slap on his arm from his wife, I learned that they have certain tasks but that it all depends on the meal.

While a quick glimpse into their world showed me how similar we are, I decided to call in the big guns – my parents – who are celebrating 50 years of marriage this year. As food lovers, excellent cooks and the people who taught me to cook, I knew they’d be able to provide some insight as to what they get out of cooking together.

“We are together, for one thing. And we work well together and enjoy each other’s company” my dad says while my mom echoes his words.

“Plus I get to kiss your mother whenever I feel like it,” he adds.

I sure hope cooking, living and laughing together is the recipe for a life of happiness. I’m looking forward to 50 years with Adam…and then some!

 Ok folks, so let me ask you: do you cook with your wife/husband/bf or gf/significant other? What do you get out of it? Or must you make them go far away when you’re in the zone? I’d love to know.

Hi folks! Just a little quick post to tell you know about this month’s Everyday Food Magazine! I’ve got a quick little feature as well as a new favorite holiday side dish that I will be serving this year! It’s Sweet Potato Fries with Brown-Butter Marshmallow Sauce and you can find it on page 33 of the November issue!

There’s also a few extra questions in the ipad version of Everyday Food as well as the blog, You can read it here! As usual the magazine is filled with fantastic recipes appropriate for the season and I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to make the Turkey & Mashed Potato Potpie that is on the cover. Heck to the yes.

A very special thanks to Anna Last and Merritt Watts! And thank you to Monika Dalkin of Fifty One And A Half for the gorgeous handmade platter!

We photographed a book last year for Good Bite as well as contributed a few recipes along with some of our dearest friends. Now that the book is almost here I wanted to share a wonderful ‘lil video about the project.Please excuse the fact that my head looks ginormous.

http://youtu.be/Xx48cMOSwFM

I’m lucky enough to have an early copy (Thanks Justin!) and it’s a very beautiful book. It’s available for pre-order at Amazon. Thanks to Adam and Emily for the amazing food and prop styling as well as agreeing to work with me. I hope you still like me.

Hi everyone! I promise I’ll get back to some recipes and food soon enough but in the meantime I wanted to let you know that I’ll be doing a twitter lunch chat tomorrow, Wednesday June 8th at 10am PST/1pm EST with Ziplist. We’ll be talking about the book, photography, general stuff and I promise to not be obnoxious!*  There will also be a few books and prizes to give away so I hope to see you there!

You can follow me on twitter here. My twitter name is MattArmendariz.

Muchas gracias, y’all!

*yea right

Last week I headed down to San Diego with the delightful Gaby Dalkin of What’s Gaby Cooking to visit Ben Holtz, avocado grower and super duper nice guy. I found out about Ben through an email introducing me to his company, California Avocados Direct, at about the same time many of my blogging pals were getting boxes of hand-picked avocados in the mail. Rather than just send a few emails back and forth we decided to see if Ben would let us visit. if there’s anything you know about farmers and growers it’s that they are some of the most polite and open people on the planet and love sharing what they do. So on a sunny Monday afternoon we piled in the car and paid Ben a visit.

I didn’t share this with anyone at the time, but knowing how freakishly in love with avocados Gaby actually is, I had some concerns that she’d just start running off in the middle of the field into a grove of avocado trees and then I’d have to ask Ben if he had an ATV I could borrow to try to find her and once I did I imagined she’d be stuck in a tree like a mad woman inhaling avocados, one hand holding on to a branch for dear life while the other arm smashed avocados all over her body as she emitted that high pitch monkey squeal whenever I’d get too close. You think this is a stretch but you do not know how she feels about avocados, do you? I do believe this scenario could happen.

But all kidding aside…

We were both captivated by Ben’s story of growing up on the family farm and being around avocados his entire life. His mother Mimi and father Ed, a farmer as well, still live on the land today. Ben and his brother Daniel graduated from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo with degrees in Bio Resource and Agricultural Engineering and it’s this level of knowledge that Ben shared with us as we walked through acres and acres of beautiful avocado trees.

Presented with technical information that my brain could never retain, we learned about the life cycle of avocado trees, which trees yield the best fruit, the importance of bees, how a tree is grafted and what it takes to bring avocados to market. As we sampled fruit and drove around, I couldn’t help but think how lucky I am to be able to have the opportunity to ask Ben firsthand these questions and to spend time in such a beautiful place. Even if I had to keep an eye on my friend so she wouldn’t disappear.

But about those boxes of avocados. That was the real reason we were there as I wanted to know more about them. As a way to generate revenue due to the increased water costs Ben recently had the creative idea of hand-selecting pristine avocados, packaging them up and sending them directly from the grove to a customer’s doorstep, all while embracing social media as a way to share his story. I like that idea in theory, but I loved it in person: he literally walks out into his special private reserve, handcuts avocados, snaps a photo of him doing it and sends the fruit along with the photo.

Ben’s hands are the only ones who touch your fruit. I’m not sure anyone else can make that claim with supermarket avocados, but even if they could the magic factor is missing: the delightful Ben Holtz.  And because of him, you’re getting perfect fruit each and every time. And trust me, you don’t really know what heaven is until you cut open an avocado while sitting underneath 30 year old trees and tasting its flesh, unadorned. Ben has superb avocados. And I should know, I’m sitting here eating one as I type this story!

Let’s have a little tour of the ranch, shall we? And make sure to read about the little giveway at the end of this post!

Without bees there is no avocado pollination. I ventured pretty close to the bees to get this photo, one apparently wanted to come home with me.  Here’s a shot Gaby took of me photographing the bees. I’m giving you an Underwear Warning.

Ben’s Office: I think I could used to this sweeping view. And on the right is what I call the magic tunnel, a corridor of tall avocado trees that still bear fruit. The cooler temperature underneath the trees as well as the cleaner air was quite noticeable. I want to live there.

Here’s Ben plucking pristine avocados to personally package and post. How’s that for alliteration? On the right is a small avocado plant that’s sprouted from an avocado seed that’s been on the ground covered in rich ground covering. The trees love this cool damp covering; thanks to their shallow root systems, they need it.

****** A Giveaway! ****** Gaby and I are both giving away 1 fabulous box of 15 Hass Avocados from Ben and California Avocados Direct! All you have to do is leave a comment here at mattbites telling me your favorite way of using an avocado. Heck, just tell me how much you love them, I’m easy! I’ll randomly select one comment and announce it this Friday, April 22^nd, just leave a comment any time from now until Friday 8am PST.  And this giveaway is twice as nice when you head over to Gaby’s site to enter, too.

Also, Ben has been such a gracious host and offered a one-time 30% discount from now until tomorrow at midnight (Tuesday, 4/19 PST) on any of your California Avocado orders. Make sure to enter “GabyandMatt” during checkout to take advantage of this limited offer.

All The Fine Print: I never want you to question my motives. Because of this I want you to know that one of my most beloved clients is the California Avocado Commission and  I photograph many of their recipes for their website. My visit to Ben, a grower of California Avocados, came via a press release from them and that’s when Gaby and I both put on our thinking caps. I personally purchased the avocados I am giving away on this post, this is not a sponsored blog post. Thank you!

Well if this doesn’t make me smile from ear to ear then nothing will! Today my extraordinary husband and food stylist Adam Pearson makes an appearance on the CB2 Blog and it’s a fantastic interview!

When Adam mentioned that he’d be working with CB2 in January I was thrilled. As a fan of their stores and decor (that’s me on top of a few of their tables at home which I got in trouble for, thanks Adam), I knew the Adam + CB2 pairing would be a match made in heaven. Modern and affordable furniture, beautiful photography, brighty happy stores…I do love all things CB2. His contribution as food stylist was an outdoor Mexican fiesta for 12 guests and his recipes will be featured on their blog over the next few weeks.

Make sure to visit their blog and read the interview with Adam! Thank you, CB2!

Follow CB2 and Adam on twitter if you’d like!

Folks, please file this under “Only One Of My Most Anticipated Books To Read Of All Time”.  I’m talking about Margaret Roach’s And I Shall Have Some Peace There: Trading In The Fast Lane for My Own Dirt Road , her latest book about her departure from a Very Important Position to one of peace and solitude in the country. If you’ve ever dreamed of walking away from something that no longer makes you happy towards something that follows your dream, well, you need to read this book.

But first, let’s watch this clip about Margaret and her book, shall we?

Margaret Roach has been an editor at the New York Times, a fashion and garden editor at Newsday and the editorial director of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia. After years of working for others she left her lucrative career to move upstate into the country. Today she writes A Way To Garden, a fantastic and entertaining resource for all things gardening. And she’s also been something very important to me – a friend, a mentor, someone who means more to me than I think I could tell you. But I’m gonna try.

I’ve felt as if I’ve known Margaret for quite some time. Granted, it was through her editor’s letter that would arrive in my mailbox via Martha Stewart Living Magazine, and there was even that brief appearance on “The Apprentice” (remember that, Margaret? I sure do). But there was a chance moment in 2008 when we were both scheduled to be on the same episode of The Martha Show in NYC when I realized I’d finally have my chance to say hello. As luck would have it I never had the opportunity; producers usher you to and fro, the hurried experience of taping a live show becomes a whirling blur with no time for socializing. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

It must have been a week later when I sent an email, only to learn she was just as disappointed as I was that we never got to meet. Nevermind, we’ll fix this I thought, and our friendship bloomed via emails, skype chats and phone calls.

In the past few years I must attribute much of the success I’ve had online and in real life to Margaret. She’s been a bright guiding light, offering me insight, advice, validation and guidance as we both navigate the world of blogging. When I have a question I go to her; when I have a hair-brained idea I ask her. When things just aren’t too clear it’s Margaret that runs my conundrums through her filter and each time I hang up/hit send/disconnect I look at myself and say “Am I not the luckiest boy in the world?” Because honestly I am. I wish everyone had their own Margaret Roach.

During our conversations she’d allude to deadlines, editors, burning candles at both ends while trying to write and maintain a garden at the same time, and there I was, dying to know what this book was about. In time she shared with me the subject, and to think I’d get to read her journey from city to country had me cheering yet staring at a calendar. It seemed like f-o-r-e-e-v-e-r (and I can only think of what it was like for her) until one day last year an advance copy arrived in the mail.

It was finally here.

I was so excited that my hands were shaking as I held it. I think I even made some obnoxious tweet about it and then proceeded to shut out the world for a few hours.

I read And I Shall Have Some Peace There in one sitting, too enthralled to put it down, too involved with the cast of characters that surround her to just stop reading. I wanted to know what makes a person leave so much behind in favor of a new life, a life that should be promising but still holds so many unknowns. I think it’s a situation that intrigues us all. Little did she know I was contemplating the exact same thing. More on that in a bit.

I had the opportunity to ask Margaret a few questions about her latest book.

Matt:  The book begins with some background about your life as an editor as well as the house in the country that you fell in love with. You say it was love at first site with this old house that “was not charming; it is hard to be charming when all your character has been wrapped in layers of falseness, layers of what is not you but rather brands burned into your surface and even deeper at someone else’s convenience or desire.” Might the house be you? (not that you’re not charming, darling, because you are, just sayin’).

Margaret: When I started peeling away the added-on layers of the house’s exterior in order to insulate finally in preparation for moving here, I realized consciously for the first time (after more than 20 years of visiting it on weekends) how much the house and I had in common. We were in disguise; our true selves were hidden. I connected then, and more each day as we finally lived “together,” with just how similar we are, this house and I: diminutive but durable, quirky, and too-long-muffled.

Q: What was Martha’s reaction to your departure? Clearly she has been such an influence to us all.

I think at first we were both uncomfortable with my decision, and there was an awkward time, which happens when any long relationship changes context. But once we got through the first phase –and remember, we took it slow: I consulted for more than six months after my technical departure, so that gave us time to get acclimated – it went fine.

The validation that it was the right thing for both of us came when Martha read the book galley last year, and said what later became the blurb on the back cover. She said that even after nearly 20 years of knowing each other, what was in the book (which she calls “superb”) surprised her – she met parts of me she’d never seen. Exactly! And she said I was gutsy to have moved up here to try my dream. Being called gutsy by someone as gutsy as Martha was about the nicest thing ever.

Q: Was there a single moment when some little light bulb went off where you said “I gotta get outta here!”?

After more than 20 years of imagining a rural life, external forces intervened to finally create a catalyst for my decision. My closest colleague, to whom I had reported for eons, was leaving…and the new leader’s agenda would mean making a big commitment. As a senior manager, you don’t sign up and then walk away partway into a new plan—just too unprofessional, too bridge-burning a behavior. So I know that I’d be signing on for another few years if I stayed—and thought, nope, better to excuse myself now.

Q: Gardening has been your thing for quite some time. You say “I garden because I cannot help myself”. How do you mean this?

I came to gardening as occupational therapy, really, in my 20s, when my mother, barely 50, got Alzheimer’s. When I first dug in (sorry) it was with a vengeance….I had to stick close to home to help with care, so I started cutting down the hedge outside my childhood home, and overgrown shrubs, and planting things I didn’t even know the names of, and just got swept under by the pull of these botanical creatures.

I think it was very healing, and quickly became much more than some mere hobby or distraction; it became a refuge, a spiritual practice, a meditation. It brought me into concert with nature in a very intimate way, so leaving my relationship with the garden is unimaginable. It’s who I am: gardener.

What I have learned as a gardener has shaped my entire belief system (think: Eastern woo-woo); my diet (I have been a vegetarian for more than 30 years, choosing to eat low on the food chain for my health and the environment’s); and my awareness that we are all part of a bigger story. I love the lessons in humility and loss the garden teaches, as much as its beauty and bounty.

Q: Let’s talk about your “If Only” lists. These lists were created to make you feel better during your alone time at Margaret Roach, Inc. They include:

“• Buy a Portable Generator

• Camp Lanterns with rechargeable batteries

• Battery Powered Radio

• Sandbags over axle of pickup truck to improve stability in case it’s needed in winter

• Place weatherproof containers of traction grit and serious salt and appropriate scoops at all entrances to all buildings

This list goes on. My legs and back hurt reading it. In a nutshell, how are these backbreaking (to me, at least) duties any more pleasurable than those required of you during your executive days? I mean, reading this makes a climate controlled office at Starrett Lehigh and shopping sprees seem so much more enjoyable. Tell me what I’m missing here.

I just burst out laughing, reading that list of my winter preparedness drill. You are correct on one level: Winter, in particular, is no party here on my very steep piece of land, which as I type this answer resembles a cross between a tundra and a melting glacier.

There have been many days these three years when I thought if Ree Drummond hadn’t taken the title already, I’d rename myself The Pioneer Woman. But I really love my relationship to nature, and living here makes me face my powerlessness and all at once also kick my fierce capability into gear.

You just don’t get to see what I see—the godlight, as I call the breathtaking warm light here; a family of gray fox climbing old apple trees to have a picnic in fall; huge flocks of irruptive winter finches from Canada making a rare, surprise detour to feast on my hollies and crabapples—without paying for the ticket for a front-row seat. No free ride, baby. Get out your ice chopper and that salt bucket…there’s another show starting shortly.

Q: I don’t want to give away anything in the book about harvesting, canning and cooking, but what’s it like cooking for one?

I used to live on Amy’s Organic frozen dinners; a friend says I was one frozen entrée away from a nervous breakdown in my craziest corporate years.

Today, in a typical week of 21 meals, I cook 19 or 20 of them for myself. I go to a favorite restaurant a couple of times a month, and eat tamales handmade by the grandma of a local farmer once or twice a week. There is no commercial prepared food—not even the organic canned beans I used in my “old” life. Now I do my beans (which I eat at least once daily) from scratch; I even make my own baked beans (a favorite food).

I sit and work all day just 11 feet from the stove; something’s always on. Though I am one smallish person, I cook in big batches, then portion things out to freeze, so there are always five or six choices on hand. Add brown rice or quinoa (I cook a large portion once a week) or a potato and you’re set. This month’s options: Anna Thomas’s sweet potato-sage-greens soup; my garden red sauce; lentil soup with balsamic and bay leaf; flageolet with herbs, carrots and onions; vegetarian chili; pesto. There are eggs from a local farm and various goat cheeses and yogurt in the fridge along with garden carrots and beets, and potatoes, sweet potatoes, winter squash, onions and garlic, also all homegrown, in the cellar. The choice widens during garden season, of course.

Two trips each month to the food coop, which is 22 minutes away, and I am set. I am the queen of pantry and freezer, and beneficiary of my well-loved soil to whom I am ever so kind, and grateful.

Q: How much do you keep in contact with your past life?

Do you believe in past lives, Matt (tee hee)? (I asked for that — matt)

I am pretty solitary soul much of the time, but there is a strange dose of technology juxtaposed on my “new” life, sharply contrasting the canvas of bucolic silence. Pings on Skype all days bring familiar, but now-distant, voices into the room. The comments on my website include many people with whom I’ve been having garden conversations for decades. And my closest old friends come to visit IRL-style because it’s a pretty great place to disappear to (especially if you don’t have to do the snow shoveling, mowing, etc. and can simply be the “guest”).

Q: I’m hoping one day I can visit and that you’ll introduce me to the frogs. Has living in nature and interacting with your creatures made you feel more or less human? Did that question make sense?

I am ever more aware each day of how very, very far nature’s creatures with technically smaller brains than ours get on instinct and genetics. They survive, thrive and even evolve without lots of props, technology, money, crapola. Did you ever watch a solitary spider weave a web, or a bird build a nest (and then another nest if someone bigger topples the original one)?

So I feel more like one of the earth’s creatures each day, seeing my place in the food chain very clearly. I am also inspired by many of the animals who are supposedly in a “lower order” than I for their tenacity and seeming genius. Can you imagine weighing .4 to .6 ounces like and American goldfinch, and living here, outdoors, in winter? That miracle inspires me.

Q: Can we play word association? Fill in the blanks with what comes to mind.

Tractors: Size matters. Joy stick [my tractor’s front-end loader is operated with one; get your mind out of the gutter, Matt]. Mulching. Composting. Mowing. Mowing. Mowing. Mowing. Mowing…

Weeds: I didn’t inhale. Perennial. Biennial. Annual. Rhizomatous. Infinite. Powerlessness.

Winter: Ice follies. Ice dams. Icicles. Tundra. Yaktrax. Ibex. Salt. Sand. Birdseed. Surrender!

Max Mara: Bygones. (See “Ibex,” above.)

Blogging: WordPress. Connection. Empowerment. Lifeline. Community. Dev guys. Geeky. Happy.

Q: The book covers your life in the country. You describe your first country haircut, 2 years or so into your new life, as something that caused you to stop, cry, and reflect on who you had become — this “new” Margaret. Why do you think it took so long for you to have this emotional moment?

In three years there have only been two: the haircut one, and another just recently, when I think I realized the book was actually coming out. Not bad, really.

The haircut was not a bad haircut; as I say in the book, it just wasn’t my haircut, and my haircutter of decades, and you know how women are about their hair and hairdressers. It felt scary, out of control.

I have lost all propriety about fashion and makeup in my life here—I cannot believe my outfits, really—and I am OK with that, after decades otherwise, but my hair…well that was just too much for me then. We all have our “thing” that is the straw; crazy (and irrational) things can be the one that tips us over. I could dress in farm boots and three layers of long-johns and a baggy coat from 15 years ago, and have on no makeup, but please don’t let my hair look like Kute Kutz did it. Which it didn’t. But a friend with a few more rural years than I had said repeatedly to me in advance, “You’ll know you’ve really moved to the country when you get your first rural haircut,” and so I think that caught up with me: I really did this. I am here for good.

Q: My last question! You say “Randomness, along with instinct, and, if you are lucky, scrappiness, are what you have left when you take the detour I did.” It’s a beautiful sentiment and one I can identify with. Not many people know this other than my closest friends (Lord knows I’ve never shared this until right this second, inspired by your honesty and self-reflection) but exactly one year ago this month I was a victim of the economy, getting the boot from my 10-year job as an art director while I was secretly making plans to leave to pursue my own thing. I’ve always had a paycheck, I’ve always had insurance, I’ve always had a job, even when I was freelancing as a photographer. Now maybe you know why I’ve been waiting for this book from you for so long, in a sense you’ve taught me that it’s scary but ok to make that leap. In my case someone pushed me. And when I say “push” it was the best thing that ever happened. Literally. I imagine this book may inspire others to make that move to a life that answers to their true calling. Any words of advice to those people?

Remember than we are ephemeral, and have a shelf life like that salsa in the back of the fridge with the green stuff growing on top of it. Remember that when you let yourself keep putting off dreams because “I just don’t have the time.”

Practical matters such as those you cite—insurance coverage and financial responsibilities—may not allow a complete (and especially sudden) break with a job, and relationships and commitments may not allow it, either, a least not all at once. But you could go from white to pale gray, at least…even if not black. You could find a little time to cultivate the start of the dream.

I read somewhere recently that we have “found” multiple hours a day for the internet in our “no time for that” lives…so why not shift some of that “found” time to the dreamy stuff?

Also remember that any big change takes not just courage but also preparation; I did not walk out after decades on a whim or a huff. I planned; I was patient. (And then six months after I left, the recession announced itself. So much for planning.) So I always think of this:

A friend named Jeff Thomas who with his wife started their own business, Water Right Inc [dot] com, says to always think of this: “Understand worse-case scenario. Take chances. Reap the rewards. Share the joy. Help your friends do the same.”

Matt: Thank you Margaret, you are so wonderful. And I love your hair.

Margaret Roach in her garden. Copyright Erica Berger, used by permission.

Special thanks to Margaret Roach for taking the time for this interview and for being my friend. I adore her.