food san francisco

Yeah / Yoshi's Gourmet steez

A cou­ple of week­ends ago, I vis­it­ed the site of an Airstream trail­er that Yoshi and I shared out­side Stin­son Beach, Cal­i­for­nia. The trail­er is long gone, but the spot is still the same: Over­look­ing the Pacif­ic Ocean on a scrag­gly lawn at the end of a farm road. We spent many a night sit­ting on a home­made couch out under the stars, lis­ten­ing to a crusty Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain cas­sette, hang­ing out with farm peo­ple, and gen­er­al­ly being our best wild selves. They were sim­pler times, so the wild­ness was sim­pler. One time, police showed up and asked Yoshi if he knew any­thing about the rit­u­al ani­mal sac­ri­fices hap­pen­ing in the area. Naked tod­dlers often woke him up by tick­ling his eye­lash­es with wildflowers.

Yoshi's Gourmet articleLook at our boy now! Gourmet Mag­a­zine. Arti­cles about obscure veg­eta­bles. Lunch­es, brunch­es, inter­views by the pool. What's next? Con­dos in Queens? Indo for weeks? Sold out seats to hear Yoshi Yama­da speak?

The arti­cle is vin­tage Yama­da, remind­ing me of the many excel­lent, excel­lent let­ters and post­cards that I've accu­mu­lat­ed over the years:

I have not put ramps in my pipe, but I have smoked them and also roast­ed, sauteed, blanched, pick­led, braised, and pureed them. I have eat­en them raw and dirty, and I have cleaned so many in a row that I almost wished for win­ter again. This year I may take a few home to put under my pil­low, just because … my pre­cious.

Not sure that I've eat­en a ramp, but I bet they'd be tasty with a rit­u­al­ly sac­ri­ficed ani­mal. Mmm­m­m­mm rit­u­al sacrifice.