A Change Has Come and It Comes with Pie

Tomorrow I have the honor of doing something absurd- leaving a job I love while grinning to Cheshire proportions. Friday is my last day at Edelman after three and a half fantastic years.

All of this because Monday will be my first day on the digital team at Obama for America.

I’m joining the team to do whatever I can to ensure Barack Obama is reelected, as I believe him to be one of the single greatest agents for positive change my generation will know. I’m doing it because it absolutely qualifies as a once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity to be part of something *big*, on behalf of something I so wholeheartedly believe in.

And because this is still a food blog and this is how we celebrate… I baked a pie. I will save you from any self-assigned deep metaphorical meaning and just tell you it’s an apple pie topped with half blueberries and half cranberries and it was delicious.

Baked goods aside (for now), I have every reason to believe this could be the single hardest thing I’ve ever taken on. I’m on the brink of being fully absorbed into a challenge so rich that it will swallow me whole for the next year by every account, including that of my new colleagues. And yet I can feel myself humming in anticipation, ready to dig in, understand, and be useful. There is a very real chance that everything I've done to date has led me straight to this whether I was aware of it or not.

For the last few years I have had the supreme good fortune of filling a role at Edelman that more often than not felt tailored to me like a glove, and definitely the kind with the nerdy tip points for texting. I've spent the last three years reading stories and meeting the women and men behind them. I've watched voices from the depths of the Internet become credible and recognized voices of “the people.” There are days when I even feel like I had a bit part in setting up the loudspeakers.

Not to mention the adventures. One after the other after the next and I came home breathless and chattering nonstop. I met her! We ate there! We had the best idea! From Portland to Asheville to Austin to San Diego and New York, New Jersey and New Orleans, I was buzzing. And I was pinching myself all the while for being the one that got to connect the dots. For getting to do it in such fine company.

I work with a bunch of nerds and it’s the highest compliment I can think to give in this context. People with the wanton ability to geek out over feed readers, measurement theories and platform coding but it goes beyond that.

I’m talking about food policy wonks, letterpress junkies, women in waders in search of a quiet spot with all the fish. People who run marathons with hip fractures because you cannot stop them from moving and try at your own peril. Star Wars junkies, chorus girls, music nuts, a fascinating breed of style curators and even a NASCAR fan. There may even have been a few fellow kitchen witches, Gryffindors, cat ladies and bourbon lovers. Just maybe. They are the kind of people who rave rave rave on about that thing you must try because it’s spectacular.

I can’t underline the importance of working with people who are passionate. Who are excited and eager and, above everything else, they are curious.

How does that work? Can I take it apart and will there be something simple and true at the center of it? Yes? Then let’s go there.

Yes. Let’s. I have a good feeling that I’m not done with the nerds. If anything, the stakes may have just been raised. Now that the secret is out, you know where to find me in 2012. There’s work to be done and if you feel like helping, I will gladly take you up on that.

Be advised, I'll be asking for your vote as well.

Red Pepper Almond Hummus and Keeping It Simple

As I'm thinking many of you probably did this past week, I am just on the other side of a really nice few days with the family. Mom and Dad flew into Chicago, now the residence of both their children, and we spent a relaxed few days taking in the sights, smells and (clearly...do you know us at all?) tastes of an unseasonably warm city.

This would be Brother giving us a tour of his most recent campus home.

As Dad rightly noted, we just don't see each other very much these days so to get a couple weeks in one month's time feels like a luxury.

The other luxury is getting to play the tourist. I've lived in Chicago for going on seven years and I hadn't been to the Field Museum in that time. That is a tragedy and something we spent four full hours rectifying on Thanksgiving morning. We were first in line and got what felt like a private tour of the birds of North America, geologic treasures, the special Whales exhibit and the like. That's the kind of prioritizing you can expect from holiday Langsens.

It was decided early in the planning stages that me making Thanksgiving dinner was going to be more fuss that it was maybe worth for 3-5 people. I'm still not entirely sure I agree but I know when to defer and I don't regret the dearth of dishes in my kitchen (the dearth of turkey leftovers is another story). And while we ate really (Longman & Eagle), really (Leopold) well throughout the city, I'm pleased as punch that my favorite latest snack was appreciated by the whole family throughout the weekend.

If I were to venture a guess at your thoughts, I might wonder what the big deal was. Hummus is generally four ingredients tops and it's just not terribly tricky. To that end, you would be completely correct. It's easy. But a couple quick tweaks to traditional hummus makes this stuff completely addictive, not to mention versatile, delicious and delightfully cost-effective as a holiday potlucker.

Red Pepper Almond Hummus

• 1/2 small jar of roasted red peppers (no juice)
• 1 15 oz can chickpeas, drained and rinsed (Bush's is a client and a favorite...the two are not mutually exclusive)
• 1/4 cup whole raw almonds
• 2-3 TB olive oil
• 1 tsp Sriracha (more if you like the heat)
• 2-3 cloves of garlic
• Thick pinch of smoked salt and some freshly ground pepper to taste

1. Put all ingredients in a food processor then turn it on.

2. Throw a cracker in and adjust as needed by adding more of whatever you please to the food processor then whirring again.

3. That's it. You're done now.

Covered in the fridge , this will keep beautifully for a week. The likelihood of this lasting for a week is slim at best. If you're really looking to go the extra mile, might I recommend spreading the stuff on toast, layering slices from half of an avocado on top, drizzling a little extra Sriracha and topping it with a fried egg. Just in case you were looking for ideas.

Someone to Watch Over...My French Toast

There's not much out there that competes with the all-around goodness and simplicity of French Toast. I'm not even going to bother qualifying that with an "in my opinion." If you want to argue it as fact, I'll go to the mat for French Toast and I will do so with vigor.

That isn't to say that there aren't higher forms available. Like anything else, a French Toast variation can fall into a quick hierarchy based on the sum of its parts. Let's go ahead and name that most important quality. It's not the bread (though clearly challah is a superior choice). It isn't the presence of exceptionally fresh eggs (just the yolks, apparently). It's not the maple syrup or the amount of butter used to fry impossibly thick slices.

You are running out of patience for my chosen approach, I can tell. We can skip the part where I decry "it" not to be cinnamon or orange zest either.

It's the company. The person who passes the syrup across the table. The one watching the oven timer to ensure the bread has been dried out just enough to promote optimum batter absorption. My company for the affore-heralded French Toast? Unparalleled but wholly familiar to longtime readers. I managed a weekend in the woods outside Seattle earlier this month with Pop, a man of the hour every hour and one for the ages at every age. I think the shot above is a few years old but it best captures the two of us doing what we do best. Scallops in that instance, rather than French Toast.

We did a good amount of cooking, exploring, napping and general indulging (balanced by some elevation run-run-running on my part). A trip out to Denny Creek took us over the river.

And through the woods.

And back to grandfather's house we went...for additional exercising of hereditary feast talent.

I'm especially proud of this one. Yes I know, pride comes before the fall. But fall was already in high season when I got to Seattle and I am just fine with the hubris that comes with a beautifully stacked lox bagel. That is a work of art. Bless you, Blazing Bagels.

Other moments when we patted ourselves heartily on the back included the day we decided duck pâté, apple slices, crackers and pomegranate seeds counted as lunch.

And the night we decided to find out how sole would taste fried in truffle butter over leeks and chantrelles. In my defense, I did manage to get a lot of vegetables on the plate and we went with lemon sorbet for dessert.

But I think if I had to pick a dish to represent the weekend, that French Toast was it. I mean that was it. Top of the pile and that pile was covered in blueberries. I have to give thanks to Christopher Kimball because Pop had prerecorded the demo we modeled our own toast after on America's Test Kitchen (recipe linked). We added some orange zest and were lucky enough to find eggs at a roadside stand in Woodinville (assured they were exceptionally fresh).

I try to get out there a couple times a year. I love that part of the world but I'm in it for the company. One night after dinner we sat and listened to music for an hour and a half. When his favorite version of "Someone to Watch Over Me" came on, he belted it out with a lack of self awareness that comes with being 92.5 and not giving a damn for anything but things that give joy.

And yes, as the years have gone on there are other, shorter conversations that come up. It would be ridiculous for us to pretend that this will go on forever in kind. I think it's comforting to both of us that it's addressed in the form of him sending me home with paperweights and books and old photos. This time he pledged to be at my wedding "no matter what" and, should that come to pass, I suspect he might come disguised as a French 75 for a different kind of toast altogether. Pop is and will remain a bit of magic. It's not a secret, it's a treasure.