Winter Blue...

After too many colorless days in a row, bits of blue sky peeked out from beyond the clouds this afternoon. It is amazing how sweet and rejuvenating a blue sky can be in the middle of a long, gray winter. The sun made its appearance just in time to let us see it sink down into the lake, while soft colors glowed on the frozen surface.

I was busy in the kitchen this evening, but don't have anything to share yet. My dinner is a work in progress; I'll share when I've settled on an actual written-down version of the recipe! For now, I hope you enjoy Haiku's photo of the late afternoon sun and my favorite Winston Churchill quote:

"We are all worms. But I do believe I am a glowworm." ~ Winston Churchill

photo by Haiku, February 7, 2007

Grandpa's Soup...

One year when Limerick and I were visiting with my Grandparents in Tennessee, Grandpa taught us how to make his cabbage soup. The soup was simple. He threw chopped cabbage, carrots, onion, and potatoes into a pot of water. He added a drizzle of oil and some salt and pepper and let it simmer. I'm fairly certain he threw in okra, but not as positive about tomatoes. The veggies flavored the water and by the time the potatoes were falling apart, it was a good tasting pot of soup.

One time Limerick made the soup when his Dad and Step-Mom were visiting. They didn't say so until years later, but they were surprised by a soup that used water as the broth. Over the years as we made it, the recipe changed. We usually skipped the okra, because it isn't an ingredient I generally have on hand. We always use canned tomatoes and the juice they were canned in. And we got into the habit of adding soup base, or canned broth. Still, despite adaptations, I often think of Grandpa's simple pot of vegetable soup.

I made some cabbage soup today, but for the first time made homemade vegetable stock to throw the ingredients into. I started with a basic recipe for Winter Vegetable Stock, which included a small quantity of lentils in addition to the usual celery, carrots, onion, garlic, and some root vegetables. I was missing a lot of the ingredients called for, and just used what I had on hand. The result, after straining the stock ingredients and adding some extra oregano, cracked black pepper, and a good splash of hot sauce was a very tasty broth.

The pantry is a little bare this week and I didn't have any canned broth on hand. As a result, I fed my family something better, fresher, more full of vitamins and minerals than a canned stock would have had. Still, in retrospect, the best of cabbage soup I ever had was probably that first one that Grandpa cooked for us in plain water, with a drizzle of oil, and little salt and pepper.

photo by Aisling, February 2007

Baby Bella & White Bean Stew...

Four days into a winter storm, the school is actually closed for a "snow day." This rarely happens here. Mostly, we just take winter weather in stride; we're used to it. However continuous snowing and blowing ultimately will slow those of us who live on the back roads down a bit more than usual. Sub-zero temps (taking wind chill into consideration) just adds to the equation.

For lunch, I just ate a big bowl of yesterday's Baby Bella & White Bean Stew. This is a recipe that I came up with after hunting for one online, but not finding what I was looking for. I thought I would share, in case anyone else looks for excuses to buy Baby Bella (little portebello's, a.k.a. crimini) mushrooms. This warm, filling stew is a really good excuse!

Baby Bella and White Bean Stew

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons Olive Oil

3/4 cups chopped onions (a combination of red and green, or just whatever you have on hand)

6 cloves garlic, (4 chopped roughly and 2 crushed)

2 cups sliced Baby Bella mushrooms

2 (16 oz) cans veggie broth

2 (16 oz) cans white beans

1 cup frozen chopped spinach

1/2 cup plain or whole wheat couscous

1/4 cup red white or balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon thyme

1 teaspoon oregano

1/4 to 1/2 crushed red pepper

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Directions:

Heat olive oil. Saute onions, garlic, mushrooms and spices until mushrooms are golden. Deglaze the pan by stirring in wine or vinegar. Add broth, white beans, and spinach. Cook on medium high until the broth comes to a soft boil. Add in couscous and turn off heat. Cover and let stand 5 minutes before serving.

This will really thicken up, so add more veggie broth if you want it more soupy. If you like things spicy, this is good garnished with crushed red pepper and/or a little shot of hot sauce.

This will make 4 to 6 generous servings.

photo by Aisling, February 5, 2007

Missing the Moon...

On the second, the Hunger Moon lit the night sky. Somewhere up there, it was full and round and bright, but I did not catch a glimpse. On the drive home from town earlier that afternoon, the sun was shining weakly through banks of heavy cloud. As I went further north, it suddenly appeared as if the road dead-ended at a solid white wall. The only way home was forward, so on I went into a world of white - white road, white sky, white air - seeing nothing beyond a few feet in front of my vehicle.

Fortunately, we made it up the steep hill and down the winding narrow road that takes us home. From that moment until now, the snow has not stopped. Yesterday, we braved the roads to take Haiku to a friend's birthday party and, as a consequence of that choice, today Limerick had to brave worse roads to bring her home. He had to leap at the chance early this morning when a neighbor plowed the road and the end of our driveway. There was a good possibility that he wouldn't make it out later, as the snow is falling and the wind persisting.

The dark towering maple trees on the back hill look like pale white birches. Snow is clinging to the entire length of each branch, pressed into place by the force of the wind. My candle is already burning on the kitchen window-sill. I am definitely not going out in this weather... Even Maude our intredip German Wire-Hair Pointer, does not want to linger outdoors. Today, I'll get my daily dose of fresh air from the cold wind whistling through the edges of the front door!

photo of Maude, by Aisling, February 3, 2007

Homecoming...

Over the past few days, I have begun a new ritual. When the busyness of the day is done...when there are no errands to do...no quick runs to the bus stop...when I am home for the day, I light a little candle on my kitchen window sill. It burns there, while I cook dinner for my family and clean up whatever mess we have made during the day. It burns until I tuck the last little one into bed and turn out the lights for the night.

In November, I mentioned here that I like to think of the beginning of each month as a "mini New Year." As each month begins, I try to think of some goal for that month; something I can do better. This month, I am trying hard to make the most of my kitchen with what I have on hand. So what if the inexpensive counter tops are stained, I can still scrub them with lemon juice. I can keep the appliance surfaces sparkling and the window clear to showcase the butterfly garden on the creek bank. Though I don't have a lot of money to spend on making improvements, I can make sure the kitchen is set up for how I really cook. I can have the things I use most often conveniently on hand, and store or eliminate the things I hardly ever use.

With a clean kitchen, it is easier to launch into bread making or other baking. I like to do all the messy cooking jobs in a very clean kitchen, so part of the process has always been to clean the kitchen well first. A job I undo, as I sprinkle flour to roll tortillas, or assemble pasties.

The little candle in the window, the clean surfaces, invite me into the room that truly is the heart of our quiet country home.

photos by Aisling, February 3, 2007

Serendipity...

This lovely word, Serendipity, ought to be the name for the used book store I frequent (in the basement of a local library.) It never fails that I find, amid a fairly limited selection, a book on a subject I have recently begun researching, or a novel someone recently suggested that I read, or a book by a favorite author that I could not afford new.

Thursday I invited serendipity into my life by running into the library on my way to collect Haiku from her gymnastics lesson. I was happy to find a novel with an elegant cover and an equally elegant name, The Samurai's Garden by Gail Tsukiyama. Anything Asian resonates with me these days, due to Senryu's exchange in Taiwan. I also found an old collection of stories and poetry by a favorite fantasy author, Ursula K. LeGuin, author of Cat Wings and many wonderful tales.

A really lovely find was two books (one a hardback) by lifestyle author Alexandra Stoddard. I have several of her books, but she has written many that I do not yet own. I particularly love the quotes she adds to the margins of her writing.

Yesterday while instant messaging, Senryu made a comment about a friends "Meg-Like I.Q." I instantly recognized that she was referring to Meg from M. L'Engel's A Wrinkle in Time. The conversation flowed on, and then she paused to say, "I love that you get my references." This quote in one of the A. Stoddard book's comments on that sort of happening:

"I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing." ~ Katherine Mansfield

If we are fortunate, the comfort of friendship - or as I consider it, harmony - also exists within a close, loving family. It is a sweet thing to explain nothing and yet be understood, isn't it?

photo by Aisling, February 2007

Gathering...

A few years ago, we gathered frequently with friends for potluck dinners, campfire circles, and front porch picnics. We are still on friendly terms with all of those people, but all of our lives seem to have moved into a different gear. Some of the kids are older, going more and more in their own directions. The adults are older too, of course, and perhaps going out less, staying in more. I have a goal this spring, as soon as snow and mud are no longer a concern on our little private lane, to have friends over more often for a big pot of soup and a few loaves of home-baked bread.

I want our Quiet Country House to be like this farmhouse in France, which Alice Steinbach writes about in Educating Alice, in the chapter called "The Secret Gardens." She says:

"Eventually, pots of chocolate mousse flavored with bits of orange rind appeared, accompanied by a big bowl of ripe juicy strawberries coated with sugar. I ate everything placed before me, my appetite whetted not only by the superb food but by the company as well. This was a house of many appetites: for books and music and art and flowers and conversation and, of course, food. It was a house that had been nurtured by hardy, elegant people whose lives, like the olive trees surrounding them, had put down deep roots here. And it was a house from which I would take away many good memories."

Come to think of it, I'll bet I have a few friends who would brave even this snowy road for some Pumpkin Bread fresh from the oven! Maybe I wont wait until spring after all. I want this to be a house for books, music, art, flowers, conversation, food, and of course, friends and family... all gathered together.

photo by Aisling, January 2007