Earthly Edible Delights

In keeping with my goal of eating local and organic to reclaim my love of cooking, I got my first organic produce delivery yesterday from Hood River Organic Farms CSA. I was literally jumping out of my skin waiting for the day to end so I could go pick it up. I had it dropped off at Peoples food coop since it's safer there than sitting at my house, inviting critters and humans alike to partake. As I carried the box back to my car, I could smell the deliciousness. Something smelled freshly baked. The box was sealed with a long piece of packaging tape so I resisted the urge to rip it open until I got home. I drove home carefully, keeping a watchful eye on my box like a proud mama.

When I got home I carried my box into the kitchen and cut the tape. As I pulled the top open the most beautiful sight emerged. Inside, was the most beautiful site I have ever seen. There sat my produce, glowing with the energy that food does when it's carefully hand raised and picked by those who value the land, the dirt and the sun. I started pulling out my earthly delights one by one, admiring each one closely. Sitting on top with no packaging, was the 'baked that morning' fresh loaf of bread. I gently took a piece and tasted it. It was so soft and buttery that I immediately put it out of site so that I would not devour it while I was standing there. Next were crisp green bunched lettuces which looked like arugula and fescu, followed by a large container of sprouted micro greens and edible flowers. As I dug further I found green onions, beets and the cutest little odd shaped fingerling potatoes with the farm-fresh dirt still clinging to their skins, and 8 light green apples grown our very own Columbia Gorge. Inside a huge paper bag were at least 30 mushrooms and one giangtus portabello (Warren left the kitchen when he saw those-he's not too fond of 'shrooms'). Next was a block of organic hard cheese made from the milk of happy, healthy cows and finally, the part I had been waiting for.... I gently reached in to pull out my prize - a half-dozen eggs. These were real eggs - eggs from real chickens. Chickens that had been truly grass-fed and ranged free near the fields of the farm. For their droppings had fertilized the land my vegetables grew from. Like a child opening a gift on easter morning, I raised the lid to look at my eggs. There they were, different colors of light pastels in pale yellows, browns and tans. These eggs in my hands contain 80% less cholesterol and an incredible amount of omega-3's, a mountains worth compared to the miniscule amount in regular factory farmed store bought eggs.

Oh man the things I want to create, Asparagus Morel Bread Pudding, Crisp green salads topped edible flowers and micro sprouted greens, soup with my fresh bread, apple pie.... I delighted in the sight before me. All of this, literally all of this food, had been planted, genuinely cared for, lovingly raised, organically grown, baked and harvested just 45 minutes from my house. Wow, what a display of miraculous beauty.

I looked in my fridge at the rest of the food I had purchased from the grocery store this weekend. I tried to guess where it all came from. I couldn't even begin so I started looking at the titles, labels and addresses. Ok, good, the yogurt was made in both springfield, oregon and in tillamook, oregon but I'm not sure if the cows live there too or what their conditions are. My organic cilantro came from California as did my strawberries. and oh geez, the sin of all sins, my bananas came from overseas. The bread from Ohio, chips from Texas and lunchmeat - hmmm, I better not even go there ....... The ridiculousness of it really is brought home for me now. Bread can be made anywhere, so why shouldn't I get bread made from Portland. And look for bread made from local wheat. I guess when you look at the full spectrum, it makes sense to buy locally. Less gas is used to ship the food, you get the food sooner and fresher, the food is full of not just love, but is packed with more vitamins and minerals and amino acids that are currently lacking in our conventional pesticide ridden fossil fuel driven food society. And just as important, I am helping to support a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). My purchase helps sustain them so they can keep producing healthy food for me and many others in our area.

Plus, for that little box of goodies that will feed us for over a week, I spent less than I would have buying it in a store. Even from our food coop. Luckily, I can get locally produced organic goods at our coop and at many other stores in town, but individually it's very expensive. This is a much better deal for me and the forever child in me gets to experience the excitement of opening a box full of surprises every other week. And much more importantly, the wheels are turnin up there - I'm going to cook my first locally made gourmet meal this week. This means I'm one step closer towards achieving my goal. Every step is the way to our dreams, and this dream is edible!

Blogging under the influence

When the wine goes in, strange things come out.

~Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, The Piccolomini, 1799

There’s something about drinking wine and writing that sync flawlessly.


Thoughts flow rapidly and typing hands can scarcely keep up.

There’s something about the hushed tranquility of evening hours and writing

that orchestrate harmonious thoughts dying to be fashioned.

There’s something about quiet solitude blended with liquid stimulation

That the words effortlessly come together like a well mixed drink.

Easy in, easy out.

There’s something about the subsequent morning, unsure of what I scribed

That causes my eyes to dart open in alarm.

Did I pull off the prose of a practiced writer

or do I sound like a lush lost in the hazy fog of an alternative state?

There’s something about the perception that my guilt is not significant.

I feel accomplished.

I proclaim, "Open the soul and let it become words.”

For it is only a fever of the mind, an intoxication of the soul.

And one must cater to it.

Glowing with immortal bloom

After long winter days, a couple of early spring sunshiny days can transform dreary into stunningly beautiful. Everything is blooming most recklessly.

Magnolia the Magnificent. Proud resident at my sister Barb's house.

You're Alive! Do Something!

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.
-- Aesop (620 BC - 560 BC)

Everyday I try to fully engage myself in my interactions with people. I learned that from my husband, Warren. The simplest exchange can really bring sunshine to somebody's day.

Like lets say that you are in line to buy a coffee. You wait forever dreaming of your rich foamy latte made with Stumptown beans. The person ahead of you is taking forever to decide on their order. Finally, it's your turn. You step up to the counter with a chip on your shoulder. At this point, you have a choice. You can monotonously order, give your money to the cashier, offer up a half-assed thank you and walk away. Come on, you know you do this. I did. But Warren never does. He greets the cashier with a big smile and a hearty good morning. He then comments on something like the cool necklace they are wearing or the butt-rocker shirt back from our younger days the barista is wearing. Or he says this is the coolest song he's heard -what CD are they playing today? Then he orders his drink, all the meanwhile being kind and continuing the conversation. When he leaves the line to wait to pick up his coffee drink, he leaves one person a lot happier than they were just moments before. And you know what? They remember him. The next time he comes in, the acknowledge him right away. This time they chat him up. Then before you know it, we walk into the coffee shop into another long line, they see us come in and they have our drinks ready before we even order.

That's what I'm sayin to ya. You're alive! Act Alive!

So, I see this at work a lot. I come into contact with a lot of people. I'd say most of them are lost in their thoughts or caught up in the day to day drudgery. But I don't allow that when we come into contact. Through smiling, encouraging words, and a sense of humor, I can transform them into happy humans again. I'm not saying that I butter them up, I just try to remember something about them to ask them about. It's more like sincere acknowledgements. Even if I don't have time to chat, I send a high wave in the air along with a smile. I'm telling you it works. The next time they see me, they are a bit more alive. They react. They enjoy it when they run into me.

I never chat too much for I am not a social chatter at work although I am with my friends and family. I'm much too shy for that at work. But my exchanges with people are enough to infect them with a little happiness, enough to make them crack a smile, and enough for them to spread a little of it to the next person. That's all I ask. You're Alive! Do Something! Pull your shoulders back. Hold your head up higher. Smile! Make every moment mean something. Live!

Grow Your Own

Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all. - Harriet van Horne

I always say it's good to live in the present but at this moment in time, I am taking lessons from the past and the present and am busy planning the future. The future of the food we eat and how I will incorporate those foods into homecooked, locally grown, and organic recipes.

Lately I find myself on grocery day going up and down the aisles of Trader Joe's filling my cart with packaged foods (many labeled as organic) that will make mealtimes appear almost instantaniously. I've lost the soul of cooking and I realize now what I am missing - "the song of a stir-fry sizzle, the small talk of clinking measuring sppons, the paining of flavors onto a pizza before it slides into the oven, and the choreography of many people working one kitchen" (in the words of Barbara Kingsolver). There is nothing more satisfying that sharing in the preparation and consumption of a homecooked meal. But there's one thing missing from this and that happens before dinner, way before actually. And that is the growing and harvesting of your dinner ingredients.

So it's becoming clearer to you now, yes? For me to get my love of cooking back, I have to fall back in love with food. And that for me, is going to be growing my own food and preparing meals that are cooked with seasonal ingredients. Here in Portland we are pretty lucky to have endless options to get locally grown, organic food from our food coops and CSA farms. However, how many times have I bought a banana and ever thought maybe I shouldn't support a fruit that is imported from a country being raped of it's forests all so that I can have a pesticide covered exotic. Instead, I should be seeking out what is in season, what has Oregon organically produced at this particular time of year that I can feast on and more importantly that I can spend money on that will go to support our local grower so he/she can produce more next year for me.

Here's my plans. I will spend April through August researching. Learning about what grows in each season. Next fall, I will get a large plot at one of our many community gardens and begin the process of growing my own food. I will use seeds from a company in Eugene (locally, again) that grows their own food, lets it go to seed naturally and then harvests the seeds. Did you know that most seeds (or most produce for that matter) that you buy are sterile? They've been genetically modified to not reproduce. That is a scary thought if your garden was all you had and you couldn't harvest seeds from your produce each year to plant another garden to sustain yourself on. That been said, while I'm in the pre-gardening phase, I am also going to start ordering produce from a local CSA farm. This way, I will only get seasonals and I will have to start experimenting with recipes. For example, pumpkin pie is not made out of canned pumpkin, it really was meant to be made out of a, well, how do I say this, a real pumpkin? YES! But I know I'm not going to get anywhere unless I start practicing because I have never cooked a pumpin, much less made pumpkin pie with a real pumpkin.

My next plans are to go to two all day classes. One is the art of cooking bread. The other, the art of making cheese. Did you know that cheese is incredibly simple to make and that if you are lactose intolerant you can most likely eat your own homemade cheese?

My final plans are to get chickens and turkeys. However, I'm going to have to come up with a well thought out approach to tell my husband about this plan. I brought it up to him once and he said 'WHAT? CHICKENS? NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!'. Of course, this hasn't discourage me, instead it will make me more creative the next time I ask!

I figure as I begin to delve into the art of cooking with seasonal foods, making my own bread and cheese, and tending to my own organic garden, I will naturally fall back in love with cooking. For me, it will now have meaning because I will be able to share my edible masterpieces with those I love. There is nothing like cooking a meal together. Everyone will have a part in the meal and everyone will take something with them, whether it was the time we spent together gossiping over grinding spices and kneading dough, chasing kids and husbands out of the kitchen, or sitting gathered around the table passing food around, tasting this, tasting that, and telling stories inbetween bites. Food brings people together but homegrown, organic seasonal food, brings the body, mind and soul together and makes us fall in love with the soul of cooking once again.

Diggin Holes

We decided today that it was time to deal with our three Leland Cypress pine trees whose flowing evergreen branches gracefully block out the view of our lovely chain link fence. Early in the winter they proudly held up the soft snow as the flakes piled on. But then it froze making the snow heavy and we started to see them slowly droop and lean to one side. The warmer weather came fast and the piles of snow began to drip. Windy weather made the trees sway a little wider than they probably should, losening up their root balls. We tied the trees to the fence as a temporary fix for the dirt by mid-winter was frozen.

However, as spring nears, we can't put it off any longer. The trees are going to have to be dug up and planted just a bit deeper. So for the first day spring, we joined the masses to work outside in the sun which hovered dangerously close to ominous rainclouds. I guess we didn't think it would be such hard work. Finally we got the first tree out. Then we started digging a bigger hole so we could assure the tree roots a better chance at withstanding another harsh winter.

As we dug, we threw the extra dirt clods out onto the grass. The dogs raced to be the first one to grab the dirt and run with it to the corner of the yard where they could feast on the dirty delicacy. So, it was time to take quick break. We ran in the garage to grab water. As we came back out, not two seconds later, we find Bettis, our black lab, sitting happy and satisfied right in the hole.

I guess it was kind of fitting. Bettis turns 3 on Monday. For his 1st birthday, he got a yard of fresh sodded grass. For his 2nd birthday, a little doggie swimming pool. So, for his 3rd, he got an early present - a big dirt hole!

Everyone was diggin the hole

"What? I'm not doin nothin!"

We laughed so hard that I ran, muddy boots and all, to grab the camera and forever save the moment. We still have one more tree to go, but that will have to wait till we rest up. However, we are definitely going to have the dogs dig the hole this time around.

And who said that dogs couldn't do yardwork!

My Dream Home

Imagine this...


If I could afford it, I would have two homes. Both tiny little cottages set among acres of land where I could have my dog ranch and my small house would be easy to keep clean.



All I'd have to do on this one is mow the roof once in a while.






And this would our guest quarters.