Sunday, December 22, 2013

A Kneady Note...


I have wonderful memories from my childhood of my Dad baking bread on Saturday mornings. He would let we kids make a little loaf  for ourselves that we didn't have to share. I recall one morning Dad got fancy and made a braided egg bread. He was the baker until my Mother stepped in to start making a more healthful whole wheat for her brood. Oh, the smell of bread baking...

So, I made my first loaf of homemade bread yesterday and I enjoyed the entire process, asking myself why on earth it took me so long to attempt such a task. It was not difficult. I mean how hard is it to stir together flour, yeast, butter, salt, brown sugar and water?

I love the idea of having control of what goes into this staple I eat most every day. Keep the preservatives out of my body, thank you very much. I love that I don't have yet another bread bag to recycle.  I don't have a mixer, so used a wooden spoon, just like women used long ago. Any type of baking from scratch requires a little bit of calorie burning effort, and I could definitely feel the effort in my arms from the mixing and kneading. A little bit of a workout was one benefit, but so was the reminder of what it means to be self-reliant. It felt good to take back a bit of power that I gave away so freely in our modern, convenience culture.

Last year, my folks gave me a wooden spoon, a large mixing bowl and loaf pans for my birthday. I can guarantee this will be something I use over and over again. Let's face it, homemade bread does not just taste better, it is also less expensive and these days the baking of it is an act of empowerment.Well, for me, anyway.

The recipe I used was from the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook, but I am sure there are many simple recipes online. Bread making is not hard, it just takes time, like any worthy pursuit.

Make a loaf of bread...you knead this experience!

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Parsley, Sage, Rose Marie and Thyme...

November inspires me to reflect...I don't quite know why...perhaps because it is the month that we really start hunkering down, or is that October? Either way, today is a Pacific Northwest gem of a blue sky day and it makes me grateful. And, just in time for Thanksgiving.

Today, after I shopped at the local farmers' market I stopped back at the ranch to check out Mom's garden. I was able to harvest some parsley, sage and thyme. I returned home, washed the herbs and set them out to dry. I chuckled...as would every folk singer, when I looked at my herbs and realized I had no rosemary. I thought, "I need rosemary so I can have my herbal foursome, "parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme"", just like the traditional Child ballad that was collected more than 200 years ago, that Simon and Garfunkel made famous.

Well, I thought about going out and harvesting the rosemary we have growing in front of the apartment. After a minute or so I thought better of it. Who knows how those herbs are tended? I do know, however, how my Mother tends to her garden, with love, respect and time. Just like she tends to her children and grandchildren. So, I smile as I sit in my kitchen and think, I am part of Mom's garden, too...parsley, sage, Rose Marie and thyme.

Happy Thanksgiving!


Friday, July 19, 2013

Strawberries Forever

There is beauty in simplicity. To celebrate summer I had a strawberry, champagne and poetry garden party. I got the idea from a long distant memory of visiting my friend Nina in Finland twenty years ago. We spent an afternoon with her friends, sitting around a garden table eating strawberries and drinking champagne. I wanted to share that idea with my friends and family and create a unique memory.
I have long believed that our modern world of over connection, but not true connection can be tedious and that the beauty of simplicity has somehow been lost by the wayside. I wanted my guests to experience simple pleasures on a beautiful summer afternoon….the delight of the luscious strawberry, the color, the taste and the  idea that this early summer fruit is fleeting and should be enjoyed while its short season lasts. My little niece Gracie, age 4, got the idea brilliantly and ate a large bowlful! Exactly what I wanted! I also served a simple and inexpensive sparkling wine for the grownups and strawberry lemonade for the children….The ruby red color of the strawberries popped on the table and the champagne glasses sparkled. I adorned the table with ferns from Mom and Dad’s garden, and created bouquets of fresh herbs.


All of us brought poems to share. There were many beautiful moments, especially, my father being moved to tears whilst reading a poem from his childhood, “Excelsior” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I’m sure the meaning of the poem took on a different and more profound meaning for him reading it all these years later, the idea of the fragility of life… And, from the old to the young, my six year old nephew Liam, sharing a poem, “Spring” that he chose from a book that my parents gave us kids for Christmas in 1976.


 Sharing words can move us and take us to a place of deep emotion. Poetry is a neglected art, I think, because it requires effort to commune with words. It takes time. Sometimes poems can be elusive in their meaning and it feels like a code needs to be cracked. And, sometimes there can be a forthrightness in the author’s directness of an idea that grabs hold of us. Such is the poem that my sister Nora, a gifted poet, wrote and shared with us that afternoon:

Stardust

As parents
We see our children as miracles
It matters not
if you believe in God
You must simply

Believe in love

And if you are lucky
and see this miracle

a collection of stardust
and water
of cosmos
and the sea

of coursing blood
and dirt underfoot

and giggles
and cries
of heartbreak
and pride

joy,
perfection,
mistakes

And realize that it's not
just your child

but you too
are made from stars
and the sea

and the blood coursing
and songs singing
inside
and outside
of you

You too are the love

You too

are the miracle

We all had a wonderful time. We all created a unique memory, that won't soon be forgotten. Here's to you and the simple but memorable pleasures you partake in. Happy Summer!