Let it rainŠ

You gotta feel sorry for Safeway. Their marketing folks must have thought it was a coup -- their logo on the umbrella given to every attendee at the Seattle meeting of the International Association of Culinary Professionals last week. I'm sure they imagined 2000 of us strolling through the famous Northwest drizzle, huddled under our bumbershoots, advertising Safeway to all who passed by.

But the weather didn't cooperate. Seattle last week was not precisely sunny, but temperatures were mild and the rain held off. I didn't even discover the logo until I got home.

It wasn't a total loss for Safeway, though. Several hundred of the conference attendees were from the Bay Area, and I suspect they are as grateful as I am for a large new umbrella. I know mine has been coming in quite handy while I'm out in the backyard feverishly finishing my Ark.

Even if Seattle had provided Bay area-style relentless pouring rain (will it EVER stop???), it would scarcely have dampened the enthusiasm of the IACP attendees. In what one overstuffed participant described as "a forced march through pleasure," celebrated chefs, cooking instructors, cookbook authors, writers, stylists, nutritionists, marketers, and food historians nibbled their way through four intense days of breakfasts, keynotes, talks, demonstrations, panel discussions, coffee breaks, luncheons, cocktail gatherings, restaurant visits, banquets and dessert parties. Eating hours outnumbered sleeping time by a huge factor.

On the surface, an IACP meeting resembles other conferences. But the food is much, much better.

Despite the many culinary delights (no rubber chicken here -- our awards banquet featured duck confit), the parade of tidbits wasn't nearly as much a draw as the food for thought. General sessions featured the New York Times' inimitable globe trotting gourmand R.W. (Johnny) Apple, Jr., California organic peach farmer and author Mas Masumoto, and two-star Michelin chef Raymond Blanc from England's famed Le Manoir de Quat' Saisons. Jacques Pepin, Martin Yan, Rick Bayless and former White House pastry chef Roland Mesnier chatted comfortably in the halls and at receptions with Midwestern cooking teachers, Danish meat marketers, folks whose names you would recognize from your cookbook shelves, and others who toil in less visible parts of the field.

I attended sessions as diverse as one on Indian spices and another on the history of eating fish on Friday. I gobbled up more information than I could possibly digest. And talked and talked and talked.

It was an international conference, but there were no translation problems. Food is truly a universal language. Everywhere, people were friendly, helpful, and sharing -- proving this really is the "hospitality" business. It was a great opportunity to catch up with old friends and make new ones. To discover that some of them live only a few miles from me was an added treat.

Because in the food world, there's no place like home.

Seattle is a great town with wonderful restaurants, a fabulous market, unbeatable fish, an interesting ethnic mix and a burgeoning food scene. In fact, food is getting better and more interesting not just there, but everywhere in the U.S. But the Bay area is still the epicenter. Almost everyone I met had a San Francisco connection -- or wished they had.

It felt particularly good to be from Napa, which in this crowd is famed as much for food as for wine. Folks looked at my badge and sighed in envy and told me how lucky I was to live here.

I had to agree. So I invited them all to come visit.

And I didn't tell them about the rain.

In the session I attended on Indian spices, they emphasized that the flavor of a spice changes depending on whether it is toasted before grinding, how dark it is toasted, if it is fried in oil, when it is added to a dish, which spices are combined, and a whole host of other conditions, adding up to thousands of subtle distinctions of taste.

Everyone insisted that spices should be bought whole, and ground just before using. We must immediately replace all the tired ground spices in our cabinets, or face dire culinary consequences! Since I am, after all, my father's daughter, and can't bear to waste anything, I've decided just to use them up as quickly as possible.

The following recipe is an old standby that is flavorful and very simple--just the thing to make when you get back exhausted after a four-day conference. It's not authentically Indian, but delicious nonetheless. Feel free to start with whole cumin and coriander that you toast and grind, if you want to make life more complicated.

Spicy Indian Chicken

3-1/2 lbs. chicken thighs, skin removed. (Can substitute white meat -- but thighs are best.)

1 Tablespoon cumin

1 Tablespoon paprika

1 Tablespoon turmeric

1 teaspoon ground coriander

2 teaspoon salt

3 cloves fresh garlic, minced

6 Tablespoons lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon cayenne*

1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

Vegetable or olive oil

Combine the spices with the lemon juice to form a paste. Using your fingers, massage the paste into the chicken. Marinate for 2-3 hours or overnight. (Note: the turmeric will stain your nails -- disposable gloves are a good idea!)

If using white meat, brush the chicken with oil. Arrange in a single layer in a shallow baking pan and bake at 400 degrees for 40 minutes, basting with the drippings, and turning once after 20 minutes.

Serve with raita (shredded cucumbers in yogurt, with cumin), rice and chutney.

*I like this dish spicy, so I usually increase the amount of cayenne or substitute ground Thai chilis.

Napa writer Betty Teller is a serious foodie who tries not to take food too seriously. You can reach her at amuse-bouche@sbcglobal.net.