Thursday
Jun062013

Riding Shotgun

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Have you heard this song? Drama. Turn that *&$ing radio up. You can't NOT sing along. "I just want to feel this moment." 

We have heard this song. Over. And over. Wyatt is Mr. Top 40 these days. (Plus John Mayer. Cute. John Mayer is for 40 year olds.) I told Yancey Maroon 5's Overexposed album will always remind me of Wyatt's fourth grade year. I already imagine listening to it after he's gone away to college, lying on the floor and bawling. Drama. 

My father-in-law has been in the hospital for some work on his heart. He's going to be okay, but it's been a strange week. I can't help but be reminded of how perilous life is, how little control we have, and that "the lie of tomorrow" is exactly that. All we have is now.

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Wyatt and I were driving home from the hospital the other night and he talked me into riding shotgun. He likes to be in charge of channel surfing, rattling off song titles, artists, and singing along. This song came on, Wyatt turned it up, and something about the moment put me in touch with my essence, the sensation of being alive and embodied.

I felt that my body was tired and hot. I felt Wyatt's presence next to me and the complete preciousness of every one of his limbs--all the scratches and bruises from biking, the bug bites from bonfires in the back yard. I felt my fear and sadness around Wayne's suffering and hospital stay. I felt satisfaction in the conflicts I helped mediate at work this week. I felt the wind through the window and noticed all the drivers around me, doing their best in their lives just like I am. I felt pain in my lower back and irritation that I'd been in the car so much. I felt anxious about the dog being left alone for so long and expectation about what might be in the mailbox. 

One of the meditation books I'm reading pokes fun at our need to "share" about what we experience. This blog post is a prime example. Somehow, the moment feels more complete if I remember it this way. I'm learning that awareness is intense and sometimes painful, but it's a whole lot better than not being aware. As one of the mystics says, the deepest me is God. There's no reason to fear going deeper. 

Our family is about to launch into an unusually crazy week. My hope is to be present in all the coming and going, notice anxieties as they crop up, and find transformative moments in the middle of it all. I hope the same for you.

Monday
May272013

Everything an Oatmeal Cookie Should Be

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I have finally found it--the perfect, crave-it oatmeal raisin cookie. Chewy, moist, crispy around the edges. Thanks to Alice (Medrich), of course. And thanks to the continuing inspiration of my big, fat cookie jar from the antique mall. It really looks forlorn when it's empty.

For his birthday, I gave my father-in-law a jar of these and told him I'd refill the jar indefinitely with whatever he wanted. I gave him lots of choices this time around--brown butter snickerdoodles, molasses, salted chocolate. But he said he wanted oatmeal raisin again. This time, I was smart and made a double batch.

Emily was supposed to come up last weekend. We've been planning it for a long time and had characteristically assembled little collections of gifts and hand-me-downs to exchange. We'd been sending anticipation texts, and Loretta spruced up her room. (That's where Emily sleeps when she comes.) But it didn't work out. We are both sad, but it was the right thing. And the silver lining, as I told her, was that I still felt like she was here and that my regular life was on hold. I didn't check email. I played lots of card games with Wyatt. We went to the farmers market, the Ski to Sea parade, and the street fair. I made pancakes twice for the kids and am halfway through two new books. I sorted my craft supplies, slept in, made and photographed these cookies, and put off folding the laundry. Yancey and I managed a last-minute afternoon date and I exercised every day. In short, just what the doctor ordered.

I hope you're able to find some time like that soon. You might even find yourself reaching for your mixing bowls.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
As with many of Alice's recipes, you've got to think ahead with these so you can refrigerate the dough. It helps the oats soak up the butter and makes all the difference. I doubled the batch and did half dark raisins and half golden raisins. You could also add nuts, other dried fruit, or a bit of flaked salt on top. Yum.

2 c. rolled oats
1/4 c. water
1 1/4 c. flour
1/2 tsp. soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
2 sticks unsalted butter
3/4 c. packed brown sugar
1/2 c. granulated sugar
1 tsp. vanila
1/2 tsp. salt
1 large egg
1 c. raisins

Place the oats in a small bowl and sprinkle with water. Combine the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a medium bowl and mix together thoroughly with a whisk or fork.

Cut the butter into chunks and melt in a large saucepan over medium heat. Remove from the heat and stir in the sugars, vanilla, and salt. Add the egg and stir briskly. Stir in the flour mixture just until all the dry ingredients are moistened. Stir in the raisins and oats. Let the dough sit in the fridge for at least 2 hours or preferably overnight.

Preheat the oven to 350. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and position oven racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven.

For large cookies, scoop about 2 level tablespoons of dough and place the cookies about 3" apart on the lined pans. For small cookies scoop 1 level tablespoon of dough. Bake for 12-15 minutes for large cookies and 10-12 minutes for small ones, or until the cookies are just barely golden on top and they still look a tad undone. Rotate the pans from top to bottom and from front to back halfway through the baking time.

Cool the cookies completely before storing or stacking.  

Saturday
May252013

Cooking a Pot of Beans

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Yesterday I sat in my spiritual director's office and cried for an hour.

I told her I'd been wanting to cry about Oklahoma all week, and then the I-5 bridge collapsed. Yancey and I both cross that bridge several times a week, and we'd been on it Wednesday morning. 

I won't be scared to cross bridges in the future or scared to drive. But I am thinking about the fragility and unpredictability of life. I'm thinking about the illusion of control I love to nurture and how much comfort I take in my plans. 

And then I hear Jack Kornfield saying:

"The unawakened mind tends to make war against the way things are."

Things are messy, unclear, unfair. They're unpredictable and often beautiful. Things are sad, violent, and hard. They're also heartbreakingly tender and full of possibility. And the challenge for all of us (especially for my orderly self) is to accept what is. Our home has not been devastated by a tornado, but our commutes to work south of us may be increased by several hours a day for a year until the bridge gets fixed. My spiritual director said, "What if you think of the bridge collapse as the collapse of your ideas about God and yourself that aren't working for you anymore?" 

I've found I haven't had bandwidth this week for much beyond daily tasks and feeling sad. I haven't felt motivated to blow through my to-do list or start anything new. Instinctively, I knew this week was a "pot of beans" week. When I dumped the pinto beans into a bowl to soak, just the sound of them falling out of the jar was comforting. I know exactly what to do with them, I know my family will be nourished for days, and I know we'll be able to devote our energies to things other than cooking for awhile.

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know my attachment to dried beans. I'm a huge fan and seem to have endless energy for cooking them and advocating for them. I always come across folks who need an introduction, though. They've never cooked them before and are unsure how those hard little legumes become soft and flavorful. So I thought I'd stop saying, "Oh, just soak 'em and boil 'em" and give a little more instruction. (I love you "measure-twice-cut-once" folks. I'm not one of you.)

The most common way my family eats beans is pinto beans over rice (or roasted potatoes or corn bread) with condiments--shredded cheese and cabbage, salsa, finely chopped onions and peppers, chopped kale, hot sauce, crushed tortilla chips, sometimes a fried egg . I set all the condiments in the middle of the table, and we each do it our own way. Wyatt mixes his rice and beans together, then adds salsa and sometimes cheese. Loretta keeps her rice and beans separate and puts hoisin sauce on her rice. Yancey and I take a lot of vegetables and keep the whole bowl layered. And we'll eat this for several nights in a row until the beans are gone. My kids have never tired of it.

Pot of Beans
This "recipe" is from Mark Bittman. Since I've never followed any instructions for cooking beans, I didn't trust myself to describe it properly! He gives lots of options for soaking or not soaking, which is the biggest question people seem to have. The reason for soaking is simply to decrease the cooking time. I do it when I've thought ahead. When I haven't thought ahead, I don't soak. Some people say it decreases the flatulence factor of beans, though I can't say I've found that to be true. If your tummy has trouble with beans, there are at least 3 remedies. The first is, don't undercook your beans! They won't taste good and they'll be hard for your body to digest. The second is to eat beans more often. Your body will get used to digesting them. And the 3rd is to take an enzyme like Beano.

If you buy your beans in bulk at a co-op or other place where they have high turnover in their dry goods, they will be fresher and will cook more quickly. If you buy them in pre-packaged and labeled bags at the grocery store, they will likely be older and take longer to cook. They don't go bad or taste worse--they are just more hard.

1 pound dried beans, washed and picked over (any kind but lentils, split peas, or peeled and split beans)
Water, salt, and pepper

Soaking: You can soak your beans overnight if you think of it. Or "quick soak" them by putting the beans in a large pot and covering them with a couple inches of cold water. Bring the beans to a boil and boil for 2 minutes. Cover the pot with a tight-fitting lid and let them soak for 1-2 hours. Or you can not soak them at all. They'll take a bit longer to cook.

Cooking. If you've soaked your beans, drain them, and cover again with 2 inches of cold water. Bring the pot to a boil, then adjust the heat so the beans bubble gently. Partially cover and cook, stirring every now and then, checking the beans for doneness every 20 minutes or so, and adding more water as necessary. Small beans might take as little as 30 minutes and older, larger beans up to 90 minutes. 

Seasoning. Add salt and pepper when the beans are just turning tender. Stop cooking when the beans are done the way you like them and taste and adjust the seasoning.

Storing. Here you have a few options. Drain the beans (reserving the liquid separately) to use them as ingredients or salads or other dishes where they need to be dry. Or finish them with one of the ideas below. Or store the beans as is and use with or without the liquid as needed. They will keep in the fridge for days and in the freezer for months.

Adding Flavor. You can add a bay leaf, peppercorns, thyme sprigs, parsley leaves and stems, chili powder, or other herbs and spices. You can sauté chopped onion, carrot, celery or garlic until soft and fragrant and add them in. You can add a cup of beer or wine. Or cook your beans with a ham hock, pork chop, beef bone, or sausage. Fish it out after cooking, chop up the meat, and stir it back into the beans.

Wednesday
May152013

Almost-Fresh Salsa

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Here is the dilemma:

Our family goes through a lot of salsa, mostly because one of the sacred rites around here is Sunday night nachos. (You should try it. 10 minutes, everyone loves it, and it's sometimes in front of the TV. Heaven.) I hate chopping and seeding mealy tomatoes in the winter. It's a lot of work for a disappointing result. There is some delicious fresh salsa out there, but the kind I really like is $6 for a small tub! Wyatt and Yancey would slurp that in 10 seconds. And canned salsa has never floated my condiment boat. Too sweet, flat, or weird.

Enter "Almost-Fresh Salsa," a recipe given to me by Emily who got it from her ex-boyfriend who got it from his Mom. And you guessed it--it uses canned tomatoes. I cannot keep enough canned tomatoes in the house. I've heard the packaging makes them bad for you, but have plugged my ears on that public service announcement. You only live once, right? If I don't smoke or eat fast food, I can be crazy and use canned tomatoes. 

This salsa meets my criteria of tasting good. Who cares if something is fresh but it tastes like crap! Or if it's "all natural" but you can only choke down a spoonful. About to step onto a soapbox here, but some of the recipes floating around on Pinterest or Foodgawker look absolutely awful. I'd rather have a banana for every meal than concoct some of the "good-for-you" things out there. (Speaking of bananas and Pinterest, this post is really funny.)

And if you have a salsa soapbox, you know I'd love to hear about it. 

Almost-Fresh Salsa
If you double or tripe this recipe (not a bad idea), don't double or triple the garlic. It will inedible the next day. Maybe add just a tiny bit more. And you'll notice this doesn't have any lime. The acidity balance is perfect without it.

1 28 oz. can whole tomatoes, drained
1 seeded jalapeno (or to taste)
1 garlic clove
big handful chopped fresh cilantro
1/4 c. finely sliced green onions
coarse salt

In the bowl of a food processor (or by hand), chop the garlic and jalapeno. Add the drained tomatoes and pulse a few times until salsa reaches desired consistency (slightly chunky, not a puree.) Remove tomato mixture from bowl and add cilantro, green onion, and salt to taste. 

Monday
May132013

Biggest Bang for your Buck

Wyatt (finally) got a haircut yesterday. All night and all morning, I'm doing double-takes. Who is that handsome kid? And why can I finally see those big brown eyes?

My boy

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Got me thinking about the great deal a haircut is. 20 minutes, $15, and you've got transformation. And thinking about other bargains in my life--a little bit of effort for a lot of happiness, perspective, or productivity. Things like:

  • Meditation. 20 minutes a day in exchange for the ability to be more present to myself and others.
  • A night stand big enough to hold books and flowers.
  • Sending or receiving a card in the mail.
  • Back-up jars of peanut butter and olive oil.
  • Having prints made of photos.
  • Remembering people's names.

 What are the bargains in your life right now?