Holiday Cooking

On a day when most everyone I know is gorging themselves on bar-b-qued everything – brisket, ribs, chicken, pork chops, hamburgers – I am working on two new things in my life, being a vegetarian and trying to eat “local.” I don’t miss the meat, but I did want to prepare a special meal for the holiday weekend, and I did want to incorporate the local ingredient I got from the farm this week – kale. This is what I came up with, and it was so delicious I didn’t even mind the smell of the steaks on the grill next door.



Black Bean and Kale Soup

1 pound dried black beans
Olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
4 ribs celery, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 ½ teaspoons chili powder
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
¼ teaspoon allspice
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 cup sliced carrots
12 ounces kale, cut into bite-size pieces
1 cup fresh orange juice

Rinse beans and soak overnight. Sauté onion and celery in small amount of olive oil until soft, add garlic and ginger and cook for one minute more. Add soaked, drained beans, 7 cups of water, thyme, chili powder, cayenne pepper, allspice, and nutmeg. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer approximately 2 hours or until beans are tender, if necessary add boiling water to beans. When beans are tender, add carrots and kale. Simmer until carrots and kale are tender. Add orange juice before serving.

P.S. I also had a sampling of the potato salad referenced in yesterday’s blog. (Okay, it was more than a sampling! And it was as good as the stranger said it would be.)

It's in the Air

At our small lake community the atmosphere is different from “in town.” The very air is changed; it doesn’t feel charged with too much activity and too much indifference. So, I really shouldn’t have been surprised when a total stranger approached my next door neighbor and me, as we were enjoying a glass of wine on the back porch last evening, to ask my neighbor, “Are you the lady who made the potato salad for X and X’s bar-b-que last week?”

It turned out she was indeed the potato salad maker, and it was the best potato salad the stranger had ever eaten, and it just so happens he’s having a bar-b-que this weekend, and if she’d write down all the ingredients he’ll bring ‘em by in the morning, and now she’s making the potato salad for the stranger’s bar-b-que.

That’s how things happen here. I really should not have been surprised. I think it is something about the air.

Short Week

Wow - 2 short weeks - back to back. I am back at the lake, a long weekend followed by a long weekend. How awesome. I intend to DO NOTHING. I will try to blog about that, if I can break out of the "Do Nothing" mode.

The First Harvest

At the farm we have been harvesting all spring. Things like lettuce and greens, strawberries and snow peas. But in my small backyard garden things have not been so prolific. Yesterday I saw the first fruit of my labor; yesterday I had the first backyard garden harvest of the season. So what if it wasn’t much. I proudly carried it into the house, washed it as tenderly as I would a newborn babe, and then admired it and showed it off to my husband. I even photographed it. When my husband reminded me that I should eat it, I sliced it into tiny rounds and savored each peppery bite (I even shared with husband). It may not have been much of a harvest, but it was the best radish I’ve ever eaten!

The Hammock

From my perch in the hammock I have a beautiful view of the lake or of the leafy tree and sky overhead, depending on my position. I take the necessary supplies with me – a bottle of water, a couple of books, a pen and a notebook. I climb into the woven cocoon suspended between two cottonwood trees and feel as if I am floating. A gentle breeze blows the last of spring’s coolness over me as I read and sway until I am overcome with a drowsiness which tears me from my novel in favor of a nap.

Eyes closed I can see the red negative outline of the lake on the inside of my eyelids. The color gradually fades until it all but disappears and I forget where I am, imagining instead that I am on a raft in the sea or on a magic carpet flying through imaginary air. A bird calls and I awake with a start, remembering where I am.

I smile and return to my book. Life is good here in my hammock.

Remember the Hall Closet

If you have read this blog for any time at all you probably recall the hall closet, a.k.a. – the bane of my existence. The hall closet is second only to the garage in clutter and scariness. I have put off the hall closet project for months and months and months. I would still be procrastinating, but my husband has other ideas. My husband is turning the hall closet into a library for me. We saw this picture in a magazine and because our hall closet is approximately the same size he thought it would be an easy project.



I am so excited about this. I have always wanted a “home” for my books, a place where they could be organized, maybe even employing the Dewey Decimal System. Right now we have books in every room in the house. Every bookshelf in the house has books double layered in each shelf. I have no idea what books I actually own, because it has been years since I have seen some of them. So, yes, I want a home library. There is just one little problem – where in the hell do I put all of the “stuff” that was in the hall closet?

Stay tuned - while my husband is painting I will be finding a new home for my closet "stuff."

Where's the Beef?

I just returned from my weekly family dinner, Wednesday Winers, with my grandmother, aunt, uncles, daughter and husband. We began this weekly tradition several years ago and it is one of the highlights of my week. However, having dinner with family or friends has taken on a new complexity since I decided to quit eating meat. I gave up meat for Lent this year and by the time Easter rolled around I decided I wasn’t ready to go back to being a carnivore just yet. My issue is with the industry, not the animal. If I think about how beef, pork, chicken and even seafood are farmed, and slaughtered for food production I lose my appetite. For years I’ve done my best NOT to think about it, but oddly, after my hiatus from eating animals I’ve given it more thought than ever. I am amazed at the cavalier attitude I’ve had toward my food. I am a fairly educated person, I garden in my backyard without chemicals, I support the “buy local” movement (when convenient), and I do realize the real cost of cheap food – except I never really followed through with what I knew to be the right thing for me to do.

I haven’t joined PETA (yet), but I do support the SPCA. I still wear leather shoes and carry a leather purse, but I prefer not to ingest an animal that was raised and slaughtered in inhumane and quite frankly, gross and yucky conditions.

Am I a vegetarian? Well, not exactly. Last week I had a hamburger. It was not made from ground beef purchased at my grocery store, and it was certainly not from a fast food restaurant. It was from a local beef producer who uses no chemicals or antibiotics. The animals are raised humanely and slaughtered (yes, I realize they are still k-i-l-l-e-d) by a small local processor. In my opinion, this is better. Was the burger good? It was okay. Will I have another burger anytime soon? Probably not. The truth is – I don’t really miss meat. I prefer my vegetarian menu. I love beans and pastas and soy and grains and eggs and cheese. I am still eating eggs and cheese and I am also eating some wild, not farm-raised, seafood.

Have I felt deprived? Not at all. And here we are with the summer’s garden bounty upon us. What a great time give up meat!

Our Lady of Perpetual Dishwater

“Is this my mother who doesn’t blog,” asked Daughter #1 on the telephone last night. She continued to tell me how disappointed she was to find no new blog entries when she finally had time to catch up with her blog reading following her finals. So, apologies to anyone else who may have missed the blog. I have excellent excuses, which I promise I’ll keep to myself. I’m hereby setting a goal of blogging at least three times a week, so feel free to check back in. Maybe I’ll even write about cleaning my house – but that’s just a “maybe” not a goal.

Having taken some time away from blogging I am able to see, once again, that I am pretty far off of the original mark. When I began this blog and gave it such an awesome and catchy moniker, I really did intend to write abut cleaning house and how it related to my life story. My mother was a fun-loving, outgoing, beautiful woman, but she was also one dedicated housekeeper – so, many of my memories of her and of my formative years are associated with a very clean house. Even though I am the rebel child when it comes to following the example set by my mother when it comes to being a “housewife,” there are still a few ingrained lessons which are difficult to ignore.

Just yesterday, after washing up the lunch dishes before leaving the lake house, I swear to God these words came out of my mouth: “It’s a shame to waste all of this hot, soapy dishwater. Too bad there isn’t something else to clean.” I then had to explain to my shocked friend that I was channeling my mother, who at one time we dubbed “Our Lady of Perpetual Dishwater.”

My mother always had a sink full of hot, soapy dishwater and she wasn’t afraid to use it. From the time she woke up until the time she went to bed there were always suds in the sink ready to serve my mother’s every cleaning desire. One could hardly finish a drink or a plate of food before the dish was whisked away, washed, dried, and returned to the cupboard. (And we had an electric dishwasher!) Our countertops glistened, our appliances sparkled and no dirty pot or pan was allowed to soak overnight in her kitchen.

In my kitchen I am thrilled if I remember to soak the pans – it saves me from having to bring out a chisel when I’m ready to clean. I use my dishwasher daily, but on the occasion when I do run the tap until it steams and squirt in a copious amount of Ivory Liquid I always say a little prayer of thanks to “Our Lady of Perpetual Dishwater,” my mother, for teaching me how to do it right, even if I rarely follow her example.