The Best D*mn Food on the Planet

I've been thinking about food a lot lately. Let's be honest: I love to eat. A lot. One of the most awesome joys of being pregnant is usually getting to eat for two. In my case, having diabetes, kind of curbs that a little bit. It sucks sometimes, but it's only for a little while, right?

But just because I don't get to enjoy all the foods I'd like to doesn't mean I don't love to make food. I especially love making food for the Benner and my husband. Why? Well, for one, making food for Ben can be a challenge. He's a unique eater. He doesn't eat meat (which is fine. I didn't eat meat until I was about 6 or 7). He doesn't like pasta (which to me is totally, completely, and in all other ways inconceivable. Who doesn't like pasta!?! It's a food group unto itself. It's God's most wonderful antidepressant in fun wagon wheel shapes. It's...it's...it's... sometimes I wonder if Ben is really my son. Kidding, of course!) He's not a fan of hotdogs or things in nugget form, so I have to be creative. Veggies are completely off the radar for him. If it's green it's gross. So I do a lot of baking/cooking of Veggies Incognito: Zucchini Muffins, Spinach Ricotta Bits, Sweet Potato pancakes.

I love cooking for my husband because he will eating anything I make with gusto and enthusiasm! Never a critic and always appreciative. For my hubby, the best route to his heart is truly through his stomach.

So as I was cooking food for the Benner to eat for the week, I got to thinking about the one thing that I love the most. Considering that I like so many, many different foods, it was hard to pin down, but I think I've got it. Cioppino.  A luscious seafood stew in a spicy tomato broth, usually served with sourdough bread and a hearty red wine. 

The first time I had cioppino was in San Francisco in 2005.  I was still working for a high tech company and was the event coordinator for Semicon.  I had the privalege of being a) the new girl and b) a girl, so the sales guys typically invited me and my colleague out for fabulous dinners that we probably wouldn't have gone to otherwise.  So that evening, we headed to a restaurant called Moose's (sadly, it's now closed.)  Here I got quite an education.  Up until that night, I had a serious fear of all things shell fish and raw.  Little did I know I would fall in love with shrimp, cockles, mussels, lobster, crab, and tuna tartar.  Being an upscale place, the restaurant served a prix fixe (planned menu of usually three courses at a set price.)  Being the Johnnys Come Lately that we are, there was only one prix fixe left.  I was sitting next to one of my favorite sales guys, R.L., who encouraged me to order the tasting.  My mouth said, "Sounds great!"  My brain said, "Are you out of your mind!?!  It's all seafood and it's GROOOOSSSSSSS!!!!"

The menu started with tuna tartar (that's raw, people) in a chilled spring pea soup (that's cold, green mushy stuff, people).  All eyes on the New Girl and down the hatch it had to go.  The result? Fabulosity! Delicious exaltation!  I was Remy trying roasted wild mushroom with tomme de chevre de paix for the first time!  The wine didn't hurt either. 

The second course followed shortly. In front of me lay a large, shallow bowl that smelled like summer. The gentle acidity of the tomato broth, the sweet fragrance of perfectly good shrimp, cockles (Those are tiny clams. Get yo' mind outta da gutter!), tender mussels, and rich salmon.  All of this goodness served with San Francisco's claim to fame, sourdough bread.

Close friendships, good wine, and a late night all make for very friendly dinner companions.  As soon as entrees were served, our plates wound their way to each other for tastes and exclamations.  My cioppino had been sampled by just about everyone...except me.  As I saw the dish come in to home plate, my dear, darling friend, C.S., took his turn.  And then out of NOWHERE, seriously, no where, his wine glass spontaneously combusted. INTO. MY. DELICIOUS. CIOPPINO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!

The crowd hushed.  The ladies gasped.  I quietly wept for the food that would not join the party in my tummy.  The waiter came over to help with clean up, insisting that it really wasn't safe for me to eat around the glass and no, the chef did not have any more cioppino. Not even a little broth to sop up with my last remaining crust of bread.  It was a sad night (made even sadder when the waiter brought me a Cesar salad to make up for the loss of my lovely.  Seriously!?! Cesar salad?!?!  Damn Californians.)

I have had other cioppinos.  Tadich Grill is famous for theirs (it's OK.)  La Traviata did a good job considering they're about 1,800 miles from San Fran and the mother land of cioppino.  Contrary to what Donkey might think, no, parfait is not the best damn thing on the planet. Cioppino is.