Beach Bites and Free-Wheeling Femmes

Curried Cauliflower + Citrus Salad and Fear of Flying

Happy spring! Hope your buds are blooming and the chill is wearing off in whatever part of the world you’re reading from. This week: a stunner of a book I tore through on a recent road trip, and a salad inspired by one of my favorite cafes.

Read

Fear of Flying by Erica Jong, pub. 1973
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookshop

Ah, the joy of discovering and reading this book! I can only imagine how it went over when it was published in the '70s, in the throes of second-wave feminism. I cackled my way through this ebullient, riotous, progressive romp and am so excited to share it with you. 

It’s hard to conceive of the world into which this book was born: It caused outrage, anger and hysteria and inspired a legion of women to start using the phrase ‘zipless fuck’ (Jong’s term for a sex act without strings or emotion). The story opens with our main character, Isadora Zelda White Stollerman Wing: a published poet, teacher and wife of psychoanalyst Dr. Bennett Wing. The couple is on a plane on their way to Vienna for a psychoanalysts’ conference; Isadora is terrified of flying and bored by the surrounding suits. Her personality jumps off the page from the first line, and you immediately know you’re in for a wild ride with a woman who wants to experience the world fully and wholly. 

Isadora swiftly whisks us into her circle: She comes from a large Jewish family with three sisters (each of whom is hilariously drawn), a mother with whom she has a love-hate relationship, and a father she adores. She was previously married to Brian, a brilliant man who suffered a schizophrenic break early in their marriage and was institutionalized. She and Bennett have been married for five years and Isadora feels stifled by his quiet, conservative nature. She fantasizes about other men but never acts on it; she yearns for something more but isn’t sure what that freedom looks like – she’s always been tethered to a man. 

At the conference, Isadora meets a British Langsian analyst named Adrian Goodlove: disheveled, loose and rowdy, he embodies everything Bennett is not. They quickly fall into a chase of sorts until Isadora succumbs to his charms. Despite his frequent impotence, Adrian enlightens Isadora. He’s free, unabashedly does what he wants (tries to steal other people’s wives, for starters), deviates from the rules. He doesn’t believe in monogamy, drinks like a fish and shows her what another type of life might look like. Their fling lasts for the duration of the conference, Isadora tearing between Adrian and Bennett with a mix of tenacity and guilt. As the conference draws to a close, she faces a choice: Does she return to New York with Bennett, or does she run away with Adrian?

The joy of this book isn’t merely its plot (which is sheer pleasure): It’s Isadora, one of the most bright, funny, fully actualized women and narrators I’ve read. She pulls you along into her follies and the effects her actions have on her inner world; you yearn, as she does, for her to find a sense of confidence within herself, free from the confines of marriage (or, in the very least, a sense of freedom and autonomy within it). I couldn’t put this one down, and the moment I finished, I did a deep dive on Erica Jong. Though it’s a work of fiction, many of Fear of Flying’s elements are apparently based on Jong’s real experiences. Books like this make me so grateful for women who break free from society’s expectations and publish work that pushes boundaries. Please pick this one up; you won’t be sorry! 

Eat

For the past decade or so, I’ve taken multiple solo trips per year, from New York to Europe and, since moving to LA, dozens of trips around Northern California (namely Stinson Beach, Bolinas, Marshall and Sea Ranch) for some good ol’ me time. I crave these getaways like air. And I make myself rules: No noise, for starters. I don’t listen to music, podcasts, anything – not while driving, hiking, walking, cooking – for the entirety of the trip. It allows me to sink deeper into myself, and for my thoughts to bubble to the surface. I tend to do a lot of writing on these getaways, and I can’t stress enough the importance of quieting the mind. My most recent 6-day road trip up to Stinson Beach did so much for me. I came back feeling centered, ecstatic yet calm, filled to the brim with nature and the sound of the ocean. I read and wrote a ton, walked and hiked my face off, and, of course, cooked. There’s an almost too-good-to-be-true little cafe and market in Stinson called Parkside that I adore. The food is local, fresh and simple, and the adjacent market is filled with culinary and ceramic gems from around the country. I always look forward to buying a pint of their cauliflower tapenade. I think they call it tapenade because it has olives in it (?), but to me, it’s more of a deli salad. This time, I managed to eat three pints in 6 days (proud!) and figured anything I’m this obsessed with eating warrants a re-do at home and a space in this newsletter (especially since cauliflower and citrus are both so beautiful at the market at the moment)! My version ended up being quite different from theirs, but it turned out well: earthy and tart with that olive-y brine we all love. I’ve been stirring this into softly scrambled eggs, piling it on toast spread with ghee, and, of course, eating it straight. I also discovered the brilliance of roasting both olives and citrus while simultaneously roasting vegetables! So easy, so good.

Curried Cauliflower and Citrus Salad
Makes about 2 cups

1 head cauliflower, shaved finely on a mandoline
Evoo
2 teaspoons vadouvan (or curry powder), divided
1 lemon, halved, one half very thinly sliced into rounds, the other saved for juice
1 Cara Cara orange, halved, one half very thinly sliced into rounds, the other saved for juice
½ cup olives, pitted (I used Kalamata but Cerignola would be so good here, too)
¼ cup barberries or currants (plumped in vinegar for 15 minutes and drained), or raisins (these will change your life)
¼ cup picked parsley leaves
¼ cup picked mint leaves
Finishing oil (I’m currently using and loving Oracle)
Kosher salt
Maldon
Fresh black pepper

Preheat your oven to 425F and take out two baking sheets. Spread the cauliflower between the two sheets (mine ended up with thinly shaved cauliflower on one, and on the other I put the remnant cauliflower florets). Divide the lemon and orange rounds between the two trays, then the olives. Douse everything with olive oil, vadouvan (or curry powder), and a good sprinkle of Kosher salt and mix well with your hands to ensure that the delicious spice is evenly incorporated. Roast for about 25 minutes, flipping halfway to ensure you get caramelization on both sides of the cauliflower and citrus (if you see the citrus browning too much, remove it and set it aside). Add everything to a bowl with the parsley and mint and drizzle with a healthy pour of finishing oil, a pinch of Maldon and a few cracks of black pepper. Squeeze the remaining lemon and orange half over the top and stir well. Now taste: You’re looking for a savory-sweet-tart combo, with earthiness from the vadouvan. Bon appetit!