Thursday, October 25, 2012

memorize a poem


You are young.  So you know everything.  You leap
into the boat and begin rowing.  But listen to me.
Without fanfare, without embarrassment, without
any doubt, I talk directly to your soul.  Listen to me.
Lift the oars from the water, let your arms rest, and
your heart, and heart’s little intelligence, and listen to
me.  There is life without love.  It is not worth a bent
penny, or a scuffed shoe.  It is not worth the body of a
dead dog nine days unburied.  When you hear, a mile
away and still out of sight, the churn of the water
as it begins to swirl and roil, fretting around the
sharp rocks – when you hear that unmistakable
pounding – when you feel the mist on your mouth
and sense ahead the embattlement, the long falls
plunging and steaming – then row, row for your life
toward it.

- Mary Oliver



I have had Mary Oliver's poem "Wild West #2" up on my dining room wall chalkboard for a several months now. I heard it when I attended a Storyline Conference in June. Yesterday, I learned I have actually had one line of the poem incorrect all this time. When I copied it onto the chalkboard, I added an extra word to the 7th line. Instead of saying "There is life without love", mine read "There is no life without love."

Mary Oliver has it right. Sadly, there is life without love. It is possible to exist, to keep breathing in and out, and hate or despise every moment of it. It's not a way to live. To me, the poem is a call to live intentionally. To 'lift the oars from the water' and listen.

Joanna (of the genius Cup of Jo) recently started a series on fall challenges. I missed week one (which was to skip TV for the week) but am jumping on board with week two: memorize a poem.

I choose Oliver's poem to memorize this week. The words are so beautiful and memorizing them means  I get to carry them around with me wherever I go.

(The waterfall pictured is called 'million dollar falls' and is located in Yukon, Canada. I took this picture during my last visit back home.)

Sunday, October 21, 2012

September in AK - longing for Fall



At the beginning of September I went home to SE Alaska for a week. It was so good to be with family, start the day with coffee together and end it over a meal together. I soak it up and treasure it. Nothing feels as good as cooking for my family.

As an added treat, my big sister and I were able to meet up in the Seattle airport and fly together to Juneau. From Juneau, we took the ferry boat to our hometown. 

Here my sister is looking adorable, hanging out on the Ferry deck, waiting to dock. (Note how chipper she looks here. This is amazing as we literally had 3 hours of sleep the night before.)


It was very fall in Alaska. It has been a while since I was home in the fall and had forgotten all the familiar images and smells. Even though I've lived in southern California for a while now, I act outraged/surprised every September when, as the rest of the country cools down and has lovely leaves turning, So Cal is just gearing up for some of our hottest weather. I know I need to get over it and consider it part of my recovery to soak up a few fall images from my trip: 

The first few leaves turning- gold surrounded by green


We drove into Yukon, Canada just to stare at these beauties for a bit


Finally, thumbnail snapshots of fall 





Saturday, August 11, 2012

late summer Saturday


"The cure for anything is salt water- sweat, tears or the sea." - Isak Dinesen

It feels like I have been running a full on sprint since returning from our Paris trip. It has been good things and tough things but when I make choices that end up with my days feeling so hectic, I know I will look back on this summer like when you flip the pages of a magazine or a book too quickly. Images spin past and you are not really able to fully catch the content.

Which is why today was so lovely. For the first time in a very long time, we went to the beach. This morning we looked up dog friendly beaches and ended up in Huntington Beach. A dog beach is just as hilariously endearing as you hope it would be - dogs of all sizes milling about, seemingly having their own conversations and cliques. Some bouncing through shallow waves, others chasing down a tennis ball.


Harriet was not quite keen on the sand- her little dachshund legs make for pretty tough going. It reminded me of my own experiences wading through hip-deep soft fresh snow. When we reached the wet, more stable sand she was happier but then had to contend with the surf rushing in and out. She did not care for the water at all but loved meeting all the new dogs and running about freely. And, for at least a few hours, everything slowed down.



Monday, July 16, 2012

lemony orzo and arugula salad


Another sunny summer evening, another summer salad. This time, it is tender orzo pasta and peppery arugula tossed in a simple lemon vinaigrette. 

Don't you always find pasta salads disappointing? So often they are bland, oily and mushy. Not to mention time consuming to prepare. I remain ever hopeful and continue to take servings of them at parties and potlucks, but I must admit it has been a while since I have undertaken making one myself. 

This salad is different. The orzo cooks up quickly and the heat of it ever so slightly wilts the arugula. It is quite nice. The recipe is from Everyday Food Magazine. 


lemony orzo and arugula salad

3/4 pound orzo
1/4 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
salt
pepper
grated parmesan (optional)

1) In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook orzo according to package directions; drain.

2) Stir 1/4 cup olive oil, lemon zest and juice, and arugula into orzo and season with salt and pepper. Add a bit of grated parmesan (optional).


Thursday, July 12, 2012

a discovery


If you played the board game Enchanted Forest as a kid, hopefully you'll be as thrilled as I was to find those toy tree pieces are real and growing around the entrance to the Musee de l'Armee in Paris (!)




Monday, July 9, 2012

tomato and beet salad



This lovely little composed salad was part of our Sunday evening supper. It is a revelation in it's simplicity: a bite of earthy dark beet with the sweetness of tomato, tangy salinity of feta, and lemony brightness of tender cilantro. Besides the roasting of the beets, everything else comes together quite easily, which on these hot summer days blending into hot summer nights, is about all I can muster.

The beets pictured here came from our weekly farmers box but in the refrigerated section of Trader Joes, they sell a little vacuum sealed packet of pre-roasted beets that I think are quite nice. Please do not let a little beet roasting get in the way of making this salad.

The recipe is from the July/August issue of Everyday Food Magazine (and a very good issue it is too.)

1 pound small beets
2 pounds tomatoes
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1/4 cup crumbled feta
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

1) Preheat oven to 400. Seal 1 pound of scrubbed small beets in a foil packet. Roast on a rimmed baking sheet until tender, 75 minutes. When cool, rub beets with a paper towel to remove skins.

2) Slice 2 pounds tomatoes, preferably heirloom, and halve 1 pint cherry tomatoes, then arrange with beets on a platter.

3) Top with 1/4 cup each crumbled feta, fresh cilantro leaves, and extra-virgin olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.





Thursday, July 5, 2012

for the love of quiche


I am very fond of quiche. My mother first made this dish for our family for dinner on a wintry evening. When we asked what was for dinner and she said the word quiche, I remember thinking it was such a peculiar word and I had no way of understanding what it was she had just said.

She made the quiche with fresh dungeness crab and swiss cheese. I can still see the pitch dark winter night sky outside the dining room window and all of us silhouetted under the warm glow of the dining room table light. My mom assured us kids we would like it. We were silent as we tried our first bites. It was a revelation for me on two levels: first that such rich decadence could exist in the world as a buttery pie crust filled with an eggy creamy custard. And second, that my mother knew this thing. It was the first time that I saw her as a real person- that she had lived this other life before us (her all consuming children). I remember wondering about what would make her pause enough in a day to put such a lovely dish before us, trusting that we would love it too, but realizing that she had made something because she had needed it- that it wasn't all about us. There was a longing and a melancholy wrapped up in that little quiche.

I somehow tied this together with the snippets of stories my mom would sometimes tell about her summer spent backpacking around Europe. I think because of these earlier impressions, I have always associated quiche as being a sophisticated dish. In Paris, I ordered quiche for lunch twice- once it was the stunning wedge of vegetable quiche you see pictured here. A second time it was classic quiche lorraine- filled with fantastic french ham.

Prior to Paris, I had actually been on somewhat of a quiche kick. It usually happens every spring and is kicked off by my tradition of making quiche for Easter breakfast. Below is my favorite quiche recipe and it makes 1 10-inch quiche. The recipe is from the Fiddlehead cookbook but I add an extra egg. (I adore this Alaskan tome- a couple more of my favorite recipes from the book can be found here and here.)

Regarding quiche filling, there is an endless variety of options. In this recipe you need about 2 to 3 cups of filling. Below I provide the recipe for salmon-mushroom quiche, but the quiches pictured are a variety. I think our favorite combination this spring was cubed ham with barely wilted-down kale. I generally just follow the format below of sautéing up a few things. If I am prepping this recipe the night before, I make the filling and refrigerate it separately from the unbaked pie shell. In the morning, the filling goes in the shell and the custard is quickly whisked together and poured over.

Salmon-Mushroom Quiche

1 10-inch unbaked pie crust shell:
2 cups unbleached white flour
1/4 pound plus 2 2/3 tablespoons butter, chilled
1/4 cup very cold water

Filling:
1 tablespoon butter
1 cup thinly sliced mushrooms
1/2 cup thinly sliced onion
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2 cups cooked salmon, flaked
1/2 cup cream cheese
2 tablespoons finely chopped chives or green onions

Custard:
2 cups half-and-half
5 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
pinch of cayenne
1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese

1) Preheat the oven to 325 and set a rack in the center.

2) To make pie crust: In a mixing bowl, cut flour and butter together using a pastry cutter, 2 knives, your fingers, or a food processor fitted with a steel blade until mixture resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle mixture with water, 1 tablespoon at a time, tossing gently with a fork, just until dough begins to come together. (Take care not to stir or knead dough, which will toughen it.)

3) Gently gather dough into a ball. If dough is warm or very soft, wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes to prevent butter from melting into flour when you roll out dough.

4) Roll out on a well-floured surface to a circle 3 to 4 inches larger in diameter than your pie pan and about 1/8 inch thick. Slip a long spatula or knife under dough to loosen it and carefully fold dough loosely in half and place in pie pan. Unfold, center it in pan, and trim edges so they overhang pan by 1/2 inch. Folding under itself, pinch overhanging dough to make an attractive edge that stands up on lip of pie pan. Refrigerate until ready to fill.

5) To prepare filling: Heat 1 tablespoon butter in a small pan over medium-high heat. When foam subsides, add mushrooms and onion slices. Stir and cook until wilted. Stir in flour and combine well. Remove from heat.

6) Distribute salmon evenly in unbaked pie shell. Dot with lumps of cream cheese and add cooked mushrooms and onions. Sprinkle with chives.


7) To prepare custard: In a large bowl (with a spout if you have one), whisk together half-and-half and eggs. Add salt and cayenne and pour over filling. Sprinkle pie with parmesan cheese.


8) Bake for 40 minutes, until quiche is golden brown on top and slightly puffed in center. Remove from  oven, cool for 15 minutes, then slice and serve warm.


Note: if you have only a 9-inch pie pan, make custard with 3 eggs and 1 1/2 cups half-and-half.