four – belated but not forgotten

Recently I missed a birthday. This blog has been oinking for four years and twenty-eight days (as of the date of this post).

oink four Walrus and Carpenter shell

I didn’t forget the day. Weeks in advance I thought about what I wanted to say and realized maybe I should write more of the story.  And then I needed to think about how I want to do that. Currently, it’s like we’re having a conversation and we’ve agreed to rarely veer from one topic: food.

But food veers, right?

gypsy lunch in garden

Cuisines fuse. A wine can start out telling you one story, all bouncy and full of fruit then swerve into fields of metal, leather, ash.

Full Pull Seattle wine stained table

Even the humble cupcake has risen to prom queen and occasionally donned a matcha crown.

matcha and valencia orange muffins with matcha cream cheese frosting

I celebrated my first year of oinking with a slice of my grandmother’s favorite cake.

yellow cake with dark chocolate ganache icing

I floated through a fabric sky of cartoon clouds for birthday two.

oinking party fat pig birthday two

And fandangled paper umbrellas for year three.

mister bacon fatpiginthemarket birthday three

I’ve overindulged my love for a little alliteration and overused the word crunchy on several crisp occasions.

Spiced Roasted Chickpeas llamas love em

I’ve learned about SEO, hashtags, digital publishing and social media inadvertently. Because I probably wouldn’t have been nosing around in any of those topics (much less…tweetering) otherwise.

Showing up here, somewhat regularly, for snacks, beverages and wanders through cities all wrapped up in words has tilted my perspective. The food I eat and offer (and how I eat and offer food and drink) reflects my attitudes, inclinations and emotions. Food is a journey and a destination sprung from memories; inspired by moments that want tasting.

I need to think more about all that so I can write more about…all that. I’ll try to be enteratining and deep when I do.

Maybe this year we should chat about other things that feed us…like books. I savor books.

bookshelf nyc

We should have more prop-inspired tales because objects hold stories. And sometimes, in absence of words, there is language.

mended plaster hand

Maybe I’ll compile decades of recipes here in this little slice of cyber-space: a chronicle of my life baked into cakes and simmered into sauces.

May life ferment me to elixir.

plums in Everclear in Le Parfait jar

Let’s go where the oinking path takes us. Shall we?

plane paper pig dreams little cities

Happy Oinking Birthday, Fat Pig in the Market. Better late and considered than neverminded.

This celebration gives me a chance to say thank you for showing up here to you…readers, cocktailers, fellow wanters of beignets, lovers of little stories. It’s cool that you do. Thank you!

confetti candles googley eyes

I am here. You are here. Oink on.

Posted in beverage, blogging, food, poems, prop tales, prose, short stories, The Cutlery Chronicles, Wandering Wednesday, Weird Wednesday, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Want it Wednesday – Raincoast Crisps

This is a photo of the third box of  Lesley Stowe Raincoast Crisps that have briefly visited my home. The first box, brought by a friend to a party, got demolished fast.

Cranberry Hazlenut Raincoast Crisps in box

I swooped up the second box of these awesomely crunchy crackers from a sample table at IFBC. I considered taking two which you weren’t supposed to do.

So I didn’t but I definitely wanted to.

I purchased the third box of crisps so I could finally write about their compelling crunchiness and snap a portrait. If you look closely you’ll note that the right side of the inner plastic sleeve was breeched…pre-photo shoot.

Raincoast Crisps get into them

Clearly I get into these seriously crunchy, nut-studded crackers.

Cranberry Hazlenut Raincoast Crisps and pink box

Raincoast Crisps are available in five flavors. I’ve tried Original and Cranberry Hazelnut so far. There’s a gluten free version made with oat flour available in three flavors. Both versions are made in small batches from locally sourced ingredients. Plus Lesley Stowe’s Raincoast crisps are Non-GMO*.

Those Vancouverites really know how to concoct a snack cracker with earthy consciousness, eh?

Cranberry Hazlenut Raincoast Crisps on plate

I haven’t added a dip or topping to my Raincoast Crisps yet. I plan on doing so. A whipped-up dip and these crispy, toast-shaped crackers sounds like an easy, satisfying, party snack. And it is, after all, the beginning of the Snacks and Soirées season.

Heck, I like these crisps so much I’d stuff ‘em in a stocking or give ‘em as a hostess gift. Speaking of gifts…I’m obliged to tell you that the second box of Raincoast Crisps I quickly consumed was a free sample that I hustled into my goodie bag when I attended the International Food Blogger’s Conference in Seattle. There were plenty of cool brands and products represented at IFBC. I chose to write about Lesley Stowe’s Raincoast Crisps because I liked them so much I couldn’t keep my paws off them. Or jaws.

I received a discount on my ticket to IFBC in exchange for writing three posts about topics of my choice related to the conference or brands and products represented at the three day, food-blogger whirlwind. It was interesting and full of wine and food. Speaking of which…let’s get back to snacks.

Cranberry Hazlenut Raincoast Crisps

Oink, Lesley Stowe, I like what you do!

*Non-GMO stands for non (or not) genetically modified organisms. The Non-GMO project is an organization that offers third party verification and labeling for products produced with Non-GMO ingredients. Here’s a link to the Non-GMO project website in case you’re curious.

Posted in appetizer, blogging, food, IFBC, Wednesdays | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment


Happy Halloween! I’ve been absent for a bit. It’s like I was a ghost or some equally invisible being.

halloween ghost in kitchen tools and eggs

I’m back and ready to haunt this cyber sty. We’ll  break some eggs.

shelled hardboiled eggs

But we’re won’t be throwing any eggs at houses. Wasting eggs and hurting houses: not my thing. Eggs are for deviling and making meringues, omelettes, cakes.

deviled eggs trio

Houses are for chillin’ in and making a home.

Happy Oinking Hallloween! Nevermind the tricksters. Go for treats.

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Oinking – IFBC Seattle

When pigs fly. A decade or so ago I’d have answered exactly that if you’d asked me when I’d attend a conference with masses of strangers weilding cameras, tip-tapping laptops. Labeled by lanyards.

pigs fly IFBC Seattle

Hanging with hundreds of tweeting foodies would not have appealed to younger, indie-minded me. And now it does because the world has changed. Socialising has changed.

oinking at eyeballs

Our stories (and the ways we tell stories) shift and shimmer. They reflect and refract  the time and place that grew them. Kinda like food and wine: soil and sun.

So when I saw that the 2014 IFBC, International Food Blogger’s Conference, was happening in Seattle this September I signed up. I figured I’d meet some fellow foodcentric, beverage-lovin’ people.

pig chomp trumpet

There’d be snacks, samples, wine tastings and seminars on stuff I’m always trying to get an edge on like SEO. Knowledge: bring it.

The sponsors look cool. I know some of the brands that will be there and I’m about to meet the ones I don’t know. There are gonna be gift bags, son. I like gift bags.

And I qualified for a discounted ticket to IFBC by agreeing to write three posts on a topic of my choice related to the weekend-long foodcentric, wine-fueled frenzy. I can do that and actually I should do that as a writer. I take a long time to produce some of my posts. So I signed up and decided to use the event as a writing challenge for myself. Kinda seemed like a win win win situation with snacks and wine.

I’m in and I’m amped.

I’ll be tweeting about this year’s IFBC in Seattle, city of champions. I’ll post photos on Instagram and write about it here through the weekend because I’m modern like that. It’s going to be a fun experience. And I’ll tell you the rest of this story as it happens. It’s like we’re going handheld or something.

oink in the city Seattle IFBC

If you see me hanging about the IFBC conference then please oink at me. I’ll oink back or do jazzhands. Your choice.

Posted in out and about, prose, Safari in your city - Seattle, short stories, travel, Wandering Wednesday | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Seattle – city of champions

I’ve been meaning to tell you more about this easygoing, port city on the Puget Sound where I spend some free time: Seattle.

cranes Seattle

And since one of my favorite people recently visited the Emerald City this seems like a good time to start with the telling. And the showing. Last time my friend visited I named a cookie after her.

Scowby Snacks cookie Calder photo linen

This time she picked her fantasy football team. That’s a good thing to do when you’re in the city of Super Bowl champions. Seahawks!

12 Wave Seattle Seahawks

If you visit Seattle then know this: Seahawk fans are Guinness World Record loud. We’re so loud our crowd registered 137.6 decibels during one game. That’s louder than a jet takeoff at 100 meters. This city is louder than eleven…this one goes to eleven plus one: twelve.

The 12 flags, banners and signs you see all over town stand for the 12th man: the fans. There are eleven players on the field and the twelfth man is the collective of the loudest, proudest fans in the NFL. Seaaaahaaaawwwks!

But let’s get back to seeing more of the city. The rest of the photos in this post (and the first photo of shipping cranes) were shot by my cookie-worthy friend, Alison. Here is Seattle through her lens:

Seattle has an awesome aquarium.

seattle aqaurium

We rock curious and cute.

Seattle aquarium sea lion

Farmer’s market flowers are lush and super affordable in this sunny-in-the-summer city.

flowers at market seattle

Heavy-headed sunflowers are ready to follow you home from the market.

sunflowers at Seattle Farmer's Market

Luscious tomatoes, with and without heirloom pedigrees, are fresh from the farm and vine-ripened.

Tomatoes at Farmer's Market Seattle

Tugboats roll through Lake Union. The Space Needle chills.

Seattle Lake Union

Seattle is quietly wondrous.

wonder seattle

If you wander down Post Alley and slink beneath Pike Place Market you’ll find this sorta beautiful and kinda gross bubblegum wall.

Seattle Post Alley gum wall

*Please note: woman in super cool chevron poncho. Nice stripey poncho, PNW lady!

The Pacific Northwest does dramatic sky very well. It’s the sort of drama you’re happy to ponder. Though I guess this city also has another sort of drama: the Seattle freeze. But we’ll need some sort of beverage and more time to get into that. Let’s just gaze at cloud drama and think sky-loving thoughts.

Gasworks Park Seattle

Dear Alison…I know you’re a Broncos fan but the Seahawks are gonna beet ya.

Seattle farmer's market beets

Thanks for the photos, Alison. Come back soon. Oink, boss!

Posted in market musings, market share, out and about, Safari in your city - Seattle, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Cucumber Lemonade

It’s gotten hot out, right? Time to cool down with some Cucumber Lemonade.

lemon cucumber bottles juice

This version of lemonade is uber cucumbery and slightly lemony. I went heavy on the cucumber because I really like cucumber. If you want the lemon to have more say in the matter then add more lemon juice. Mine happened like this:

A bunch of summery ingredients decided to play Red Rover.

Heavy Sugar, Seltzer and the Lemons shouted out, “Send Cucumber over.”

cucumber lemonade ingredients play red rover

The Lemon twins were like, “We got this.”

lemon and bee

Cucumber took a vegetal charge at the Lemons.

cucumber dominates

Cucumber won.

cucumber wins red rover lemonade battle

I dig this super cucumbery version of lemonade. My recipe will give you leftover Heavy Sugar so you can experiment with more or less cucumber. Heavy Sugar is nice to have around for summertime drink-making. It’ll keep for a few days in the fridge. Heck you can leave the cucumber out altogether if cucumber doesn’t thrill ya.

cucumber lemonade ingredients

Or juice up limes, oranges, berries, herbs. Think mint, basil, rosemary. Make your version of a summer cooler. Adult the whole thing up with vodka if you like. Be generous with ice. Stir well. Swizzle. Imbibe.

Pop a paper umbrella in your Cucumber Lemonade. Make it a vacation.

cucumber lemonade tools and swagger

Even if you’re sweltering in the city you can imagine a beach, a breeze, a view.

cucumber lemonade paper umbrellas painted poppies

Sip away.

cucumber lemonade after the party

Now we have a refreshing reason to get steamy all over again. Happy cucumbery summer!

Posted in beverage, cocktails, happy hour, prop tales, short stories, The Cutlery Chronicles, urban garden | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Campari Safari

Summer makes me want every day to be a weekend day. Exposure to sunlight will do that to a PNW person, even to a semi-Seattleite like me.

King Station Clock Smith Tower Seattle summer

The days stretch out. Light loiters.

downtown Seattle magic hour

Simple, seasonal meals take over the table. There’s butter: unsalted, melted, real.

crawfish cosmos butter

These extra, well-lit hours make me wanna wander through neighborhoods, explore new stores. Snuffle at fellow oinkers in urban, rooftop gardens.

Pike Place Market Urban Garden oinking doorsClimb a curving stairwell. Eat at the bar.

Radiator Whiskey kitchen view

This is my Safari in Your City season. My seasons have mantras. Makes it easier to focus on those seasonal goals. And I like a little alliteration.

Bloom with a view

This summer I’m traveling in my own city…one of ‘em anyway. I’ll be tooling around the west coast, drinking in Seattle sun. And snapping plenty of pictures. Many Seattle neighborhoods are changing quickly. It’s interesting to watch the old and the new push up against each other which, at times, benefits both.  And at times that push is the start of an inevitable battle over turf.

blinds architectural details

Safari in Your City will be a recurring feature happening here at the sty. Gather your crew.

Safari in Your City Seattle crew

We should start off Safari in Your City: Seattle with an aperitif-based beverage. Seattle does happy hour right so this seems like the appropriate thing to do. I suggest a Campari Safari: Campari, gin, fresh lemon juice, tonic, ice. Stir it. Straw it. Safari.

campari safari ingredients

Campari has a satisfyingly bitter, decidedly herbal flavor. It’s distinctive and difficult to pin down. There’s even an ongoing debate over the number of ingredients that make up this aperitif’s well-guarded recipe with guesses ranging from twenty to eighty.

Campari is intriguing, challenging even at first. It gets you to notice its flavor. Campari is the wily chorus girl adding a little extra shimmy to her shake, angling for the spotlight. Campari wakes up the palate, gets it ready and wanting more. Plus it’s a pretty color.

Get ready to oink. And drink up summer.

Campari Safari with glass llama

Drink in Seattle.

Pike Place Market chalkboard pig

Go forth and safari in your city, son.

Campari Safari crew

Campari Safari

Citrus-sparked, ginned-up, Campari cocktail. Fizzy with tonic, brightened by fresh lemon juice built on the distinctively herby, satisfyingly bitter aperitif: Campari. Plus it’s a pretty color.


  • a high ball glass (or a glass of roughly that size. I used a 12 ounce glass)
  • ice
  • one ounce of Campari
  • one ounce of gin *I used Tanqueray
  • half an ounce of freshly squeezed lemon juice
  • tonic water

Instructions for mixing up a Campari Safari:

  1. Fill your glass almost to the brim with ice cubes.
  2. Add Campari, gin, lemon juice.
  3. Top with tonic water.
  4. Stir well.
  5. Safari!

fat pig in the market – happy hour cocktails[/print_this]

Posted in beverage, cocktails, Eat at the Bar, happy hour, market musings, recipes, restaurants, Safari in your city - Seattle, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Blueberry Pistachio Bars – humble pie

Blueberries…there you sit all round, intensely blue, full of your juicy selves.

blueberries in orange plate from Portugal

Let’s heat you up with freshly squeezed orange juice, sugar and vanilla beans scraped straight outta the pod. Kiss your composure goodbye, blueberries.

blueberry vanilla bean filling

You’ll fall apart, for sure. And wake up poured over one quietly crunchy, pistachio-green crust.

pistachio crust

Topped by another.

Blueberry Pistachio Bar before baking

You’ll get baked for nearly an hour. Then I’ll let you cool in the garden on a table with a good view and a fringed, linen cloth.

Blueberry Pistachio Bars cooling

Before I cut you up and serve you, blueberries.

Blueberry Pistachio Bar  served

You’ve been humbled into pie, cut in bars.

Blueberry Pistachio Bars with silhouette

This is my midsummer, finger food dessert: perfect for a picnic or a potluck party.

It’s summertime. I say…beat up some blueberries. Turn them into a humble-looking bar with a softly crunchy, pistachio crust. Serve ‘em warm and oozy. Seduce summer.

Whipped cream and/or vanilla ice cream: encouraged. Welcomed.

Here’s the recipe followed by some photos to help illustrate some prep and assembly. Oink on!

The following photo collection is subtitled: Cameo Appearances by Apron Strings. Persistence pays off when you’re trying to get on camera.

The assembly line. Pan Prep:

pan prep blueberry pistachio bars

Bottom crust:

pistachio crust


pistachio crust

Top Crust:

blueberry pictachio bar assembly


Posted in bakery, dessert, food, prose, recipes | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


Every July when the ninth crept close my mother would  say, “I was born in July that’s why I’m a firecracker.”

She was.


Maybe she still is. I don’t know. I haven’t seen my mother for over two decades though she is alive.

Sometimes in the early days of July, the days leading up to her birthday, I am wordless.

How do you define what is lost to you when you never really had it to begin with? I have absence, ache, an idea of what we should have had. But really…it’s just an idea that never happened, untenable as a shadow traveling along a cracked plaster wall.

I think of simple things. I remember my mother teaching me how to measure dry ingredients; how to understand and interpret a recipe.

scoop flour sweep flour

We can’t find each other and likely never will. But I think of her on Mother’s Day. I think of her in July when firecrackers are about to get set off.

I think of my mother in summer when the sun heats my thin skin. I get red at first but never burn. I imagine that’s because we’re partly red (mom said we’re half Cherokee) though my actual blood mix is a recipe I don’t know. Like the measurements in many of mom’s sacred recipes…fiction and truth got mixed.

Mom, I wish so many wishes when I think of you: candles stuck sloppily into cake. They burn, drip, cast shadows on uneven walls. Your silhouette flickers quickly. Then you’re out.

Mom. Bees visit the pink cosmos in my urban, container garden. I don’t have your magical green thumb but I do allright.

cosmos and bee

I cook. I write about it. I take photos that are occasionally decent. And I think of you when I cook something awesome. I give recipes freely but I think it’s charming and hilarious that you gave out slightly effed-up recipes. You never wanted anyone to do it as well as you did.

Meet me here in flour, butter, salt.

I am always, in some odd way, yours. No-one can take that from us. Not even you.

Firecracker…happy birthday. I send you my heart with no return address. I hope you feel it. I hope you feel love.

Posted in prose, short stories, Wednesdays | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment