I'm waiting, i'm waiting.  Who knows?  I really want this to work out, but if it does not, what are my options?  VegNews appeals to me most, and even if it does work out, that will still take place.  But the idea of working there, too, is appealing. 

I finally spoke with BA@G last night about a position, and it looks like there will be something good.  I'll interview with the sous chef in charge later this week.  The new cafe is smaller in scale, and I would be the lead vegetarian chef.  Initially an opportunity to execute the exisiting menu, and also a chance to develop into more of a co-sous chef position with full menu control and ordering responsibility.  I'd get to work with and mentor a line chef in the ways of the vegetable.  And with the smaller scope, 700 v 2000 meals, it should also be more manageable.  Mostly, it is an amazing opportunity to do what I love. 

I'm still a huge devotee of tempo training, but I like the idea of including some FT work over the winter to keep things moving and to reduce the amount of rebuild time in the transition to racing.  The key for me is to avoid doing too much.  

Things I've learned and that must be a part of my training

1.    I have to lift weights  at least once a week, even during the season, or I just don't recover.  I like to lift 3 days a week during the winter.  Double days are fine since weight training seems to be an important way to get my body to produce growth hormone and recover.  This must include a full body workout, and should not be too hard.  It is not the strength, per se, that seems to benefit me but the stimulation of skeletal muscle in a different fashion to promote better adaptation to all my training.  Lifting also helps keep things on an even keel, and prevents me peaking too soon.  It keeps me strong, healthy, and happy, and I want to make it a priority this year.  

2.    I need to stretch after every ride.

3.    Self massage is critical every day, professional if possible.

4.    I need to avoid eating too much in one sitting and not try to pack in the calories to match up with the work.  

5.    Losing weight helps me peak, but it is short term and not sustainable.  

6.    Some form of exercise everyday is necessary.

7.    Standing start sprints are amazing for me.  

8.    I need some form of sprint training or I am useless.

9.    I love doing tempo and, so long as I can recover, strongly benefit from back to back sessions over two days.

10.    I love climbing, and prefer doing LT or V02max efforts on hills.  

11.    Having concrete power goals is very motivating for me.

12.    Doing some LT work year round will keep me sharp.

13.    In terms of the Performance Manager Chart, I've had trouble going beyond a CTL of 80 or so.  I was just over 60 when I started to taper for Diablo, and I tore the cranks off.  I am sure that CTL will need to be higher to handle distances, especially if I am going to race, and race well, at elite nats, my season goal.  I've got yeats of data, however, and know when I was strong, so its fun to look at the PMC and see what I did.  

14.   A major limiter for me in races has been the fitness necessary to get to the selection rested enough to perform.  I usually have, in a testing sense, more than enough power to make the selection.  My limitation, consistently, however, has been that I cannot get to that point in the race with any matches left.  I tend to overeat out of fear of the depletion that comes after burning all my matches, and this has not been a good solution, either.  

15.    I am an extraordinarily bad descender, and if I am going to race seriously this year, I have to fix this weakness since it effectively limits everything else.  

My thoughts for the moment.  I am excited to do the ramp test bradley mentioned.  The idea holding each level long enough to acheive steady state is critical.  This was my major concern with the predictions that came from the EMV approach.  Their test overemphasized the contribution I make from anaerobic metabolism, always a strength for me.  Using 6 minute ramps that lengthen to account for longer stabilization periods, smooths out the impact of anaerobic power.  If this was a month ago, I'd predict that I could make it all the way through 410 watt ramp, and see where things stood.  But considering that my average power for diablo last weekend was just under 300 watts, that prediction might have to change now!  True, I blew up, and I was a little sick, but it sucked to even average that.  Ugh.  I really need to start training again. 

I'll be back, different cafe, different chef, same idea, 9 am tomorow morning.  Plymouth Rocks Cafe, to meet with the lead sous chef and one of the executive chefs, who I met briefly last time.  I've still got the hat, i'll bring the chefy costume, and the knives are sharp.  What more can you say?  I have to say, it sounds like an amazing opportunity, and that they are looking for someone that is remarkably like me.

What ails you, that in doses daily taken cures one of the ills of misapplied vengeance or awkward silences or forgotten deadlines or ill-timed exchanges.  So here it is, a chance to unload from the supercomputer the latest glut of infrmation, to free the wires for better transmission, at least.  It is raining, that goes without saying, and it smells fully of fall, of the deep, heavy wet air that finally flows in, erasing once and for all the last crisp twinges of optimisim left over from fall.  Settle in, now, as we dig towards a deeper furrow, leading toward the velvet tank of winter.  Can there be enough clothign to cover over the daily worries, to block out the leaching cold?  Maybe it just means fixing the heater so that getting out of bed is not a challenge in and of itself.  It means everything is ready in the pre-dawn dark, waiting to step out into the new day.  Put into place before, the new routine can make sense, can fit into the already cluttered space of my mind.  At times, this all becomes babble about food, or better yet, a babel of food, an echo chamber of tastes and sights and sounds that, avoiding anarchy and incoherence, draws together again to form a union of all these things, a loving embrace of lifes daily drive against the seeping edges despair. 

Following one last stage, a few brief words with the lead chefs, I will be the new Lead Vegetarian Chef at Plymouth Rocks Cafe on the Goolge campus.  New menus, new recipes, new ideas.  A whole new approach to life.  What began a month ago as an anger fuled attempt, desperate really, to escape from the current mire, has turned into something that I could heretofore only dream of.  I am so ready to move on, and cannot wait to begin applying what I've learned, and I look forward to taking the cuisine at Plymouth to a new level. 

To keep a record of these things -- I did the Low Key Hill Climb up Highway 9 today, felt better than last week at least, though I was starting to fall apart at about the same point, roughly 25 minutes in at 340 watts.  Consider that a month ago, I was able to do 390 for over a half hour and that puts things in perspective.  The woirst part is just riding around.  I feel like I am dragging an anchor.  And I am frankly not looking forward to the transition coming up -- I have to keep riding, and especially going to the gym.  One more month at the Y, and then its off the google gym!

The very fact of and context for my hiring is an interesting story itself.  I had initially applied for a different position, but it turned out that I was a better fit at Plymouth Rocks.  The chef, Dean Spinks, was looking for someone that not only could execute the recipes, but also for someone that could step in and revitalize the veg menu, come up with some really fun, interesting new recipes.  Currently, the menu is influenced by Dean's southern roots and its rock and roll theme.  But he knows that I am bringing a completely different perspective to veg cuisine, and that this will dramatically alter the food.  I will have full creative control, and I look forward to helping influence the endless hordes of Googlers towards a happy, healthy, plant-based diet. 

Getting back on the bike after a three week layoff = sucks

Riding consistnetly for a week = much better

Phew.  For a minute there I was afraid that my legs had finally fallen off after 17 years of riding. 

The process begins.  I start on December 4, and I damn well better be ready.  I'm going to start going through the cookbooks and just brainstorm on the ideas that I've developed over the years.  Not sure quite where to begin, but I am sure that the recipes are in there somewhere.

Bright and clear after cold an rainy, here on Tuesday.  L-Taraval scenic route to 47th and Wawona.  Get off one stop early, walk up the block, blue bouncing off the walls of the scale model homes of the outer Sunset, turn the corner onto Wawona, and the table is set.  Two card tables, chairs, small table cloths moving in the breeze.  Its warm, i'm not in the office (not something I need to worry about for much longer) and I get to play with everyone at VegNews for a few hours.  Aurelia made lunch, a very tasty dish of noodles and veggies, (with plenty of salt I might add).    Fun talking about the new job, everyone is curious about google and what my experience there will be like.  Loved hearing about all their new things, got to taste some wedding cakes for an upcoming article, heard all about Daryl Hannah and dinner at Millennium, talked about doing some work with them, too, another exciting possibility. 

I need to write up an article pitch for Aurelia on the idea of the stranger in a strange land transition from law to cooking. 

Looking forward to some exciting days ahead!

Another lunch at VegNews on the horizon -- I'll be in there next week doing some copy editing, eating another tasty lunch and sampling the tasty vegan goodies around the office.  Yeah for Wawona! 

Fun day yesterday playing a bit of hooky, dropping in on VegNews to help copy edit the proofs for the jan-feb issue.  Somehow I knew that working on the law journal and learning all those weird copy editing symbols would come in handy some day.   Best thing?  Amazing interview Joe Connelly did with John Robbins.  Wow.  Reading through, you could tell that there was a really special connection there, and Joe seemed to draw the best out of John.  The interview really gave me a whole new appreciation for who John is and what he has done.  Make sure to rush out and buy a copy as soon as it hits the shelves!

Google is moving along -- official first day is going to be either Dec 4 or Dec 11, depending on what happens.  So many unknowns, though, in stepping into this new realm.  Just the volume of food itself is enough to overwhelm.  But the cookbooks continue to inspire, and the direct access to the best in produce and cooking talent will be unparalleled for skill development. 

Still, its hard to imagine such an abrupt transition.  I feel like I am in the calculus, speeding toward some infinity, knowing full well that the end lies just beyond the impossible edge, just beyond calculation.  The infinite jest will stop, though, and as as suddenly as it began, release me towards something new.  Scenes from a kitchen mutter in my sleep, and seem to creep just at the edge of my vision.  Nervous, certainly, but ready. 

Right now, its all just speculation, idle fancy or nerve-wracked worrying.  It will begin, that at least I know. 

Porcini are the essence of the earth, tasting of fall mornings and damp air and the woodland-duff that gives birth to them, they are essential markers of change, and symbolize with oversize, shiny-brown glory the passage from summer to fall.  Even the porcini's creation speaks of this elemental connection, defying all attempts at cultivation, on those in between days, when the schizophrenia of transition still holds sway and, thus unhinged, the season balances on the brink -- cold fall rain followed by warm dry sun.  Then, as if by magic, they appear.  Only the most savvy know where they grow, and the ancient truth of porcini hunting, passed through generations, rewards the careful, meticulous planner with the right degree of timing.  Beneath a secret pine tree, off a forgotten road, maybe in the hills above Vinci where the old fir march up and down the hillside like disorganized sentinels of a forgotten age.  Walking through the forest steamy-damp in the morning's rising sun, it is a race against time to find and corral the mushrooms before the heat, or other eager hunters, usurp the prize. 

Everyone knows this, in and around Florence, knows that fall means mushrooms, and everywhere you see them, piles of the massive, uncomfortable looking funghi in stalls and markets and trattorie, everyone boasting the most direct, most intimate connection to this arboreal apparition.  Angelo Maschalchi, in 1994, coming back from secret places in the woods with bags, with kilos of them. Layered flat on sheet pans on the heater, drying in the kitchen, the whole house smells of the deep earthy truth of them. Saute with olive oil in risotto, over pasta, alone, from the grill, everywhere all at once.

They are so ephemeral, yet so plentiful in their brief lifespans, that you quickly become used to them, used to having at least the option of them in every meal.  Visiting Florence in September and October, on those in-between days, reveals a whole new bounty, and shows a side of Italian cuisine often missing -- a perfect appreciation for and understanding of one simple mushroom, at one time, all right and true, with no meat in sight.  Just wide slices from the unearthly large mushrooms -- dark-shiny brown on the edges, and creamy brown-white on the inside.  The elegant trace of the outline, like an ancient glyph, meaningful to a select few millennia ago, now only known as the very symbol of what fall, in Florence, tastes like.

So step back into that forest and feel around, feel the air and smell things, the wet heavy air, close and still and waiting.  Pine trees, certainly, and old, old pine needles lining the forest floor.  And Italian air smells different, feels different, I swear, it takes you breath away.  Not like the overused crisp mountain air, but with a literal, almost suffocating clench the air surrounds you and penetrates you and becomes part of who you are.  It infuses everything with great solemnity, an essential and urgent vitality that makes life more real, colors more apparent and, above all else, food taste infinitely better. 

The porcini, then, straddling the divide between seasons, expressing all the elemental power of the forest, perfectly captures this essential atmospheric quality of Italy.  Tuscans, being Tuscans, tend to do things simply.  With a mushroom of such power, best just to splash on some olive oil, salt and pepper, and grill it. 

Moving from these elemental factors inward toward the core of what a Porcini tastes like begins with smell -- earth, and woods, pine needles, rain and fall, floating in the air, define the terroir of the mushroom.  Fresh off the grill, the first hint of woodland charm floating across the table.  Maybe they come neat -- on a plate, arranged just so, spelling out nothing more than anticipation.  You can see how the grill has caramelized the outside of the mushroom, how the already shiny surface has been charred and marked into something richer.  The texture is visibly soft, moisture gathers expectantly around the corners, mixed with olive oil and salt, gentle weeping of a broth light broth, visible reminder of the hopeful mushroom experience. Sometimes, Tuscan cooks use rosemary or, even better, nepitella, and impossible blend of mint and wild herbaceous-green, to highlight this dense, woodsy aroma.

Take Tuscan bread, saltless, simple, maybe toasted, maybe plain, pick up one of the mushrooms and you can feel with your fork that it is softer than you thought.  Cooked, the mushroom almost dissolves, barely cohering on the plate.  Once on the bread, with some of the vital juice of mushroom soaked in the toast, bring it to your mouth, and biting into the assembly of mushroom-bread-juice-salt-olive oil, take the first journey to a new world.  There is no other mushroom like this, no other experience to quite define what this first taste is like.  Everything comes together at once, and you can feel the shiny-velvet texture of the mushrooms, the coarse texture and vibrant deep-dough flavor of the bread, and it becomes one and transcends mushroom or bread or salt or any of these separate things.  It is instead a defining symbol of what is right about Florence, or Tuscany, maybe sitting here in Piazza del Carmine, on some early October day with the streets still wet from yesterday's rain, and the air close and suffocating, humid and dark and ancient, cobblestones and 13th century walls, all wrapped together in a moment of communion, a visceral conversion to a wider, almost surreal, new world of taste.

Porcini all Fiorentina

A traditional Florentine dish is a thick t-bone steak, cooked over a grill with nothing but salt, pepper and olive oil, Bistecca alla Fiorentina. But in fall, you will find variations on this theme with porcini substituted for the steak. Traditionally, one large steak is cooked for two people, and the same idea applies here with one large mushroom shared between two.

2 large, whole, fresh porcini mushrooms, cleaned with a dry paper towel or mushroom brush — Note*

Olive oil

Salt
Pepper

Nepitella or mint, chopped roughly

Heat a grill until scorching hot. While the grill heats, toss the mushrooms with enough olive oil to coat, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Using tongs, place the whole mushrooms over the hottest part of the grill and cook until good and browned. Turn the mushrooms so that they cook evenly on all sides. Do not over cook, it should only take a minute or two to cook, depending on how hot the grill is. Remove from the heat, and sprinkle with the chopped herbs. Serve on a plate for two. Serves 4.

Porcini Mushroom Risotto

½ pound arborio rice

One medium yellow onion, small dice

½ pound fresh porcini mushrooms, cleaned with a dry paper towel or mushroom brush, sliced crosswise – Note*

Two cloves of garlic, minced.

½ ounce Dried porcini, soaked in ½ cup hot water until soft, about 30 minutes

½ cup dry white wine

1.5 to 2 quarts vegetable stock

olive oil

Salt

Pepper

This risotto requires two different levels of mushroom. First is the level of the dried mushroom, and their full flavor, cooked with the rice. Then, in the form of a sauce, the fresh mushrooms, sauted with garlic, added at the end. To make the right, creamy risotto, keep stirring throughout to ensure even cooking.

Place the stock in a large sauce pan over medium high heat and bring to a gentle simmer while you prepare the mushrooms.

Heat a wide saute pan over high heat. Add the oil to cover, about 2 tbs, and a sprinkle of salt. Once the oil is hot, almost smoking, add the sliced mushrooms. Toss quickly to coat with the hot oil and then let them brown over high heat. Once browned on one side, toss again to ensure even browning. Add the minced garlic, and heat until fragrant. Toss again and then deglaze the pan with ½ cup of the stock, scrapping off any browned bits with a wooden spoon. Pour the just cooked mushrooms and the juice into a bowl and set aside.

Drain the soaked dried porcini through a sieve, reserving the soaking liquid. Pass the liquid through paper towels or coffee filters several times to filter out any remaining grit. Finely chop the soaked mushrooms. Set aside.

Take a large, heavy bottomed sauce pan or casserole and heat over medium heat. Add about 2 to 3 tablespoons of olive, enough to coat the bottom of the pan, and let warm. Sprinkle the oil with salt and add the diced onions. Sweat the onions until translucent. Add the rice and stir into the onions and oil until coated. Gradually toast the rice in the oil until the kernels are translucent and shiny, and about two minutes. Turn the heat up to medium high and once the oil starts to sizzle, add the ½ cup of dry white wine. Stirring constantly, let the rice cook in the wine until almost evaporated, and then add the chopped soaked mushrooms and stir until heated, following with the mushroom's reserved soaking liquid. Continue stirring, once again until the liquid is almost absorbed, but the pan is not completely dry – look for the liquid thickening in the bottom as you stir. If the liquid boils off too quickly, reduce the heat, if it just stews, turn the heat up. Once the mushroom liquid is finished, begin adding vegetable stock, ½ cup at a time. If you run out of stock before finished, just use water. Continue stirring without pause as you add the simmering stock, cooking until the rice is nearly “al dente”, with a little bite remaining – not quite done but almost. Add the sauted fresh porcini that you reserved, and all their liquid, to the risotto. Stir in the mushrooms, adjust seasoning, cover and let sit for at least five minutes. Remove the lid, adjust seasoning again, and serve. Serves 4.

Note *

If fresh porcini are unavailable, as is often the case, cultivated shitake can be substituted quite nicely. Not nearly as large, but full of flavor, the work fine. Simply stem them and slice them for the risotto, or use an equivalent weight for the “alla Fiorentina” about 1 pound.