When You Were Small



Number 1 daughter's handprint on Christmas ornament.



Q:   How many school handprint cards does a parent have to receive before realizing that they are more precious than gold?

A:  One.  But it takes a couple of years for the value to appreciate.

When I was young (read:  a long time ago), I thought these handprints and poems were quite kitschy and sappy. 

Now that I am not young (read: buying Age Defying Moisturizer and admiring Suzanne Somers), I get all misty eyed when reading them.

Thank you to all the teachers who patiently pressed my little ones’ hands into ink and made these cards.  You are angels.



The Handprint Poem



The Handprint

Sometimes you get discouraged

Because I am so small

And always leave my fingerprints

on furniture and walls.

But everyday I am growing--

I'll be grown-up someday.

And all those tiny handprints

will surely fade away.

So here is a final handprint

just so you can recall

exactly how my fingers looked

when I was very small.

Replies to Reptiles



History shows again and again how Nature shows up the folly of Man.
Go, go Godzilla!



Did you ever notice how similar the word "Reptiles" is to "Replies"?

The next time you are tempted to hit “Reply” quickly to an email, think about this.

--Love,

Godzilla

Broth . . . Importantly

If you want to cook tasty food, be self sufficient and save money, then you really need to learn how to make your own broth (or stock).

Poultry or red meat:  it’s pretty much the same process.

You will need: herbs and spices, leftover veggies, leftover chicken or turkey carcasses (or steak or lamb bones if you want a dark broth),  and tasty bits, water, salt, a big stock pot, a colander/strainer, cheesecloth, a stove, and some time.  Oops!  Forgot:  you’ll need some plastic tubs with lids and a freezer!

Making broth is much more of a process than it is a recipe.  If you regularly make broth, you’ll develop a system of saving tidbits, so that you have the perfect ingredients without having to run to the grocery store.  Afterall, this is all about economy. 

So, to start off on the right foot, set aside a section of your freezer to save those tasty morsels for the broth.  Dump these into a zip bag and toss in without a moment’s thought:

·        Onion skins and bits (these give flavor and color)

·        Garlic bits and leftovers

·        Chicken and turkey backs, wings, anything left on the plate from your family (refrain from livers, as those cloud the broth)

·        Parsley and cilantro leftovers, such as stems

·        Any leftover herbs

·        If you’ve been very good, you will have saved your chicken necks and feet!

When you are ready to make broth, take all your freezer ingredients and put into a large stockpot (see note below re cooked versus raw ingredients).  About  a 12 cup/3 quart size pot is good.  Pour cold water over the ingredients until just covered with water.

Now, the fun part is adding aromatics, spices and herbs.  Here’s what I add, but you should experiment on your own:

·        2 stalks celery chopped large (use the leaves also)

·        2 large carrots, chopped rough

·        1 rough chopped parsnip or turnip (secret ingredient if you can get them!—do NOT be tempted to use potato, as it will cloud the broth)

·        2 star anise

·        6 whole cloves

·        1 stick cinnamon

·        6 allspice berries

·        3-6 bay leaves

·        1 T dried rosemary or a large sprig of fresh

·        1 clump of thyme sprigs

·        1 t fennel seeds

·        2 T coriander seeds

·        1  t cumin seeds

·        ½ t celery seeds (some people don’t like these!)

·        2 t red pepper flakes (makes it hot—be careful)

·        1 whole garlic head, cut in half (use more if you like!)

·        1  whole yellow onion, cut into quarters (red onions are good too, as are shallots)

·        1 T coarse sea salt or kosher salt (1-2 t of regular table salt, as it is really salty comparatively)

Put everything into the pot if using cooked meat and cover with cold water.  If using raw, hold off ‘til it is cooked—see comments below. 

Cooked versus raw poultry 

Now, here is the trick: if you are using raw poultry, don’t add anything to the pot at first but the bird parts and the water.  Bring to a rapid boil, take off heat and skim off the foam/scum. Then add your other ingredients. If your parts have already been cooked, then go ahead and put everything into the pot at the same time and cover with cold water.

Why do this? Raw meat has blood and other fluids that when heated congeal. These rise to the surface as gray scum.  You don’t want this in your nice broth.  Once released, they are easily skimmed off and given to your dogs as a treat.   If your bird is the carcass of a leftover, then the fluids have already been dealt with.  Proceed with blessings in that case.

 

Skim the scum from raw meat broth.

 

The simmering broth with added vegs and spices!



The cooking part:  best to bring to a boil, skim if necessa, reduce to simmer (don’t boil) with a cover for about  3-4 hours.    You only boil it once:  at the beginning! 

Uncover and simmer more if you want to get better color.  Cool and strain twice—first with a colander and second through cheese cloth. Return to heat and reduce til desired flavor/consistency. I find that I need to reduce the broth on a low heat for 2-3 hours or so—NEVER boil—just get some rolly little waves.  Taste for salt and add it needed near the end.

You don’t need to stand around your stove during this. Go about your business, take a trip to town, do the laundry, etc.

Let cool in fridge overnight.  The next day the fat will be hardened on the top. Skim this off and give to the dogs.  (And go through all your leftovers from the stock you strained the day before and give the dogs the meat, celery, garlic, and carrots. Do NOT give dogs onions or cooked bones.)

Package the broth into plastic containers and freeze  (when cool).



Viola! Broth. . . importantly!



Cheese Grits Life Line

I had the most wonderful phone call today from my friend Ronald.  He called to say Merry Christmas and that he wondered if I could come to California to make fried chicken, waffles and cheese grits.

I worked with Ronald for 9 years in California before moving to Washington.  On the last working day prior to Christmas, I always made a breakfast for staff members who were working on this day.  I used to bring my waffle irons, electric frying pan, etc. and get it all going early.  Most times we had fresh sliced persimmons from my yard also.

I’ve moved now to a different state and have a different staff, but I am still making the traditional breakfast:  tomorrow for the first time for my new staff.

But somehow, I  know I will still really miss my old friends.

I will miss Christine meeting me at the loading dock at 7 am to help me carry all the supplies. She also set up the entire event so perfectly and helped cook and clean and entertain. 

I will miss Jill and Milt and Lee and Jean laughing and telling stories.

I will miss Jessica, the student worker elf, who laughed and made sure everyone was happy.

And I will especially miss Ronald, who at first never believed that I could make grits, but who never ever missed a breakfast . . . and still has not.

Happy holidays to all.

Here is my recipe for Cheese Grits for 20

·         8 C water

·         2 C quick grits

·         5 C shredded sharp cheddar

·         1 ½ C evaporated milk

·         ½ C cream

·         1 C butter

·         5 eggs, slightly beaten

Sautéed additions

·         2 C frozen corn

·         ½ C diced scallions/green onions

·         ½ C diced shallots

·         ¼ C diced garlic

·         ½ C diced red bell pepper

·         2 T diced jalapeno

Make your sautéed additions above and set aside.

Preheat oven to 375.  Grease/butter  4 quart slow cooker ceramic insert or other container. 

Bring water to boil and slowly stir in grits in a large saucepan.  Cover pan.  Reduce heat to low. Cook for 5-6 minutes, stirring regularly.  Take off the heat.

Add 4 C cheese, butter, milk, cream until melted.  Stir in eggs and really mix furiously to prevent the eggs from scrambling in the mixture. 

Add the sautéed ingredients.

Pour into prepared dish.  Top with remaining cheese.  Bake for 45 min to 1 hour.  If serving later, put into slow cooker on low.

Great with Red Neck Razorback Sauce or Tabasco!

Kiss My Quinoa

Quinoa (pronounced kin-wa).

Quinoa looks like little spaceships or some weird sort of twisted germ when cooked. But make no mistake, quinoa is one of the most complete proteins delivered from the plant world.  It looks like a grain, but it’s not.  It looks like rice, but it’s not.  Instead, it’s a seed and more closely related to beets and amaranth. (It is a pseudo cereal--who knew!?  Would  Lucky Charms be in this same category?)

Grown in South America in the Andean regions, quinoa claims Peru and Boliva as the chief cultivating and exporting countries.  It comes in at least two varieties as far as I can tell: regular and red.

When you buy it, the kernel is enclosed and rounded. When you cook it, the kernel explodes into this corkscrew like thing. Very cool, a tad bit crunchy, and really able to soak up the flavors of whatever you add to it.

  

Here is some uncooked quinoa.  What do you think?
 I think my hand looks fat and wrinkly.



I had only been able to find the regular quinoa in the store, so I went online and bought some red quinoa (and a bunch of other good stuff like cheesy sesame stick snacks).

For dinner, I boiled the quinoa much like rice (1 part quinoa to 2 parts liquid—25 minutes) and served it with roasted tomatoes, sautéed zucchini, and quick flashed leftover sirloin  roast  (from Beef with Port Wine and Butter Pan Juices—a later post) with onions and garlic. 

I pronounce it yumitricious.

Alternatative view:  Mr. Artifact describes the quinoa as guinea fowl fodder.  He absolutely does not like it.   He says,  “the Galloping Gourmet would not jump over a chair to get to it.  The Galloping Gourmet would grab the chair and a whip to keep the quinoa at bay.”

All I can say is, “Kiss my quinoa!”

Imagine: When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd

Imagine  December 1980 and the junior English class at CK McClatchy High School (Sacramento, CA).   I can.  I was the student teacher for this course.  After having prodded the depths of Jonathan Edwards and Washington Irving, we had moved on to Walt Whitman.  What could I impart to a bunch of 17 year old students?  I was wondering this myself.

The required reading was Whitman’s elegiac tribute to Lincoln:  When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d. 

Uncle Walt

I introduced this reading and did my best to explain the depth of feeling Whitman had for Lincoln and the concentrated national focus on Lincoln’s assassination and overall pallor of mourning. 

I recalled my own impressions regarding JFK’s assassination and funeral as a very young child.  I could remember where I was, what the funeral coverage on TV was, etc.  It was a moment frozen in time. 

I asked:  did my students have any memories of a significant figure’s demise during their lifetime?  No.  Not one did. 

It was at this point that I realized that there was more than just a couple years distance separating me from my students.  The JFK event marked me for a different generation than they were. . . I was of their parents’ generation.

“Well,” I remember concluding my lesson on December 7, “perhaps there will be an event in your lifetime when this will happen to you, and you will remember where you were, when you heard, how you felt. Then, you will be able to understand more fully what Walt Whitman was talking about when he wrote this poem.” 

The next day, John Lennon was murdered.

It was on all the news, no one could miss it. We were in shock.   

The following day, I brought two albums to high school for my teaching:  the Beatles Abbey Road and John and Yoko’s Double Fantasy (which I had just bought thanks to my subscription to Columbia Records). 

Uncle John

I put the records on the turntable that I had checked out from AV.  (Believe me, this took a huge amount of effort—physically and emotionally:  why do you need it just for 2 hours?  We can’t take it up the stairs, you’ll have to do it; this is a last minute request and we require 5 days notice;  argghhhhh, thank God I was young.)  

On the chalkboard I wrote:  Homework for Walt Whitman:  listen to John Lennon.

We sat for 50 minutes every class and listened to the albums.  These were the quietest classes I ever taught.  I recall looking out from my desk at these students, in years not so much younger who earlier had seemed a lifetime away.   However, now they could understand tragedy that was larger than they were, and now they had the patience to read Whitman, now they could be open to understand metaphor, now they could appreciate how soulful a poem could be, how it could go under your emotions and touch the nerve, and why poets seek to expose this nerve.  For high school students, this is actually a pretty weird concept.  And frankly, it probably would take years to set in.

For a long time,  I viewed this whole experience as a coming of age marker for my students.  What I failed to recognize immediately was the similarity between Whitman and Lennon.  (Yeah, they share the same zodiac sign.)  Their intense focus on the pleasures of humanity and their bold engagement with the political arena were similar.  Both opposed to war, they chose to use their influence differently.  Both loved the common people, celebrated the everyday activities of working folks, and reveled in the intimacy of man and woman.

One take-away from Lennon and Whitman is that you don’t need to aspire to lofty ideals.  Your being is all you need (All You Need is Love).

As a postscript, Walt ends one of his poems with the following lines.  Frankly, this could be the end to something John wrote also:

If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles...

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

And John ends one of his last songs with the following lines that Walt would have liked as well:

Every man has a woman who loves him
If he finds her in this life time
He will know.

Never give up. . . keep searching and open. 

Love never ends.

God bless you, John Lennon and Uncle Walt.

Rest in Peace.

Turkey Part Deux

Turkey Oola!

(Mexican turkey and dumplings--a  Thanksgiving leftover staple.  This is the slow cooker version of chilaquiles. )

For years, we hosted Thanksgiving at our home for relatives.  We would have from 5 to 30 guests for dinner.  The next day, we traditionally went to a movie (for years--Harry Potter). While at the movie, this dish would cook in the slow cooker. We’d come home to a steaming bowl of Turkey Oola!

The origins of Turkey Oola! are from my mother.  I’m not sure where she got it.  She either made it up or she and her girlfriends passed the recipe around.  Nevertheless, it is much anticipated.

This dish is the capstone to the T-Day experience.  The big bonus is that you really do not need a recipe—it is more a method.  In fact, you don’t even need a slow cooker.  You just need a variety of ingredients, some heat, and a covered casserole.

Basic ingredients:

4 flour tortillas 
3 T butter
2-4 C chicken broth 
2 C diced turkey (or chicken) 
1-2 C shredded cheddar cheese or pepper jack or other favorite melty cheese 
1/2 C diced green pepper
1 can Ro-Tel diced tomatoes and green chilies (10 oz can)
1/2 C diced green onions 
1/4 C diced red onions

Topping options:

diced cilantro

diced bacon

diced jalapeno

limes/lemons (to squeeze over the top)

avocados (sprinkled with chile powder if you like it hotter!)

shredded lettuce or cabbage (Napa or Savoy preferred)

Composition:

This is a layered dish. Divide up your ingredients into the number of layers you want (3-4 layers is optimum).

In a slow cooker:  spread a thin layer of butter on the bottom of the cassarole. Put one layer of torn flour tortillas, then turkey, cheese, Rotel and veggies.  Repeat this 2 or 3 times, ending with a topping of tortillas covered with cheese.  You can make as much or as little of this as you want.  If you want to make sure you get the dumplings, you need 2-3 layers of tortillas.  Once done, pour chicken broth over the casserole until you see the liquid beginning to appear at the sides, but not to cover.  

Cover and cook on medium for 3-5 hours. You will know it is done when it is bubbly and moist looking.  Let it rest for 10-15 minutes, as it is hot, hot, hot usually. 

Talk amongst yourselves about the latest Harry Potter movie while it cools off some.

Serve in bowls with some shredded lettuce or cabbage to top. Diced jalapeno, crispy bacon and some avocado would be a nice addition also with some lemon or lime squeezed over the top.

Hint--while this is good on the first day, it actually gets better the next day!

Enjoy!

In a Rut

(rut:  the ditch variety, not the elk variety)

Have you ever been in a cooking rut where you cooked the same thing over and over? 

I have.

Actually, it was more like centrifugal force than a rut. 

Twice, it got so bad that even my kids complained.  The first time was due to a seafood bonanza sale when I went into a frenzy over large scallops that were $6/lb.  I bought 15 lbs, brought them home and vacuum packed them into 1 lb bags and froze them.  While I thought it possible that the scallops would last a year in the freezer cutely secure in their vacuum package, the thought of having absolutely no room in the freezer for that long was sort of a motivator to eat them more quickly.  Afterall, we had only a kitchen freezer.  Space for ice cream, chicken broth and leftovers was now becoming scarce.  So, once a week I made something with scallops:  scallop mousse, scallop scampi, scallop kabobs, scallop chowder,  scallop bruschetta, etc. 

After the second month of scallops, Number  1 daughter inquired what was for dinner when she got home from school.  Upon being informed we were having scallop lasagne, she exclaimed, “Scallops!  Again!?  Geez!”  And she lurked off to finish her homework with a bag of Oreos and a glass of milk.  “Hey, most kids don’t even get scallops once a year.  Most kids don’t even know what they are!  There are starving children in China who would love this!  You should be grateful,” I could be heard calling down the hallway.  This sort of reminded me of the hamburger lament at my household as a child.  Scallops:  the other hamburger.

The second time was actually worse, and it was inadvertent.  Our whole family loves veal shanks.  Our kids grew up sucking the marrow out the bones and dribbling osso bucco sauce down their chins. Mr. Artifacts’ mother introduced us to these, and we have been fans ever since.  I was hankering for some osso bucco, so I visited my favorite butcher Gino (at Antipasto’s in San Jose, CA)  and inquired about the possibility of some veal shanks.  There were none today, but he could get them by the end of the week.    Great, I need four. 



The Antipasto proprietors:  the Derose family.
Gino is the cute one with the mustache. 
The rest are his brothers and his mother.
(picture from San Jose New Neighborhood
Voice, see link in text.)

 At the end of the week, I went by to retrieve my veal shanks.  I piled the counter up with some sauces and pasta and wine that Gino had at the butcher store. Some friends came in and we chatted while Gino got my shanks.  There was so much visiting and talking that I never even looked at the credit card receipt. Gino was putting the bags into my car (why were there so many?), and I was saying goodbyes to friends.  Gino opened my car door and gave me kiss on the cheek (something new).  He asked, “Dear, what are you going to do with all these veal shanks?  Are you having a party?”   “No, no,” I replied.  “We just love them, and we will probably have my mother-in-law over for dinner.”  When I got home, I realized that I had just  bought 4 whole veal legs, all nicely cut into 2 inch chops (four!  from an entire baby cow!).  No wonder there were so many bags (kiss explained also). 

I gave my mother-in- law a whole bunch of these (shanks, not kisses). The rest went the way of the scallops:  osso bucco, ragout, shanks and chard in cream sauce, with beans and tomatoes, chili veal shanks,  shanks with peppers and paprika, etc.  Then came that fateful evening when the kids complained, “not veal shanks again!”  I think the last straw was when I tried to make bbq shanks.  I did get a lot of really great veal stock out of this adventure, though.

For the record, Mr. Artifact never complained.    That said, he is getting tired of quiches. . .a story for another time.

The Shakers, Endymion, Aristotle, Mr. Artifact, and Me

No, no, this is not a Neil Young song!  Stick with me, and you will understand.  Let's begin:

Hands to Work

Hearts to God

This is the Shaker motto. 

Although renowned for their practical, utilitarian furnishings and austere dress, the Shakers did have a very creative and colorful aesthetic.  Simple furniture was artfully crafted out of quality products highlighting the natural beauty of the object. While personal dress might be demure, the Shakers got their color groove on with decorative arts, such as chair seat weaving. (Chair Seat Weaving for Antique Chairs, Marion Burr Sober, 1964.) 

This appreciation for natural, understated beauty--a combination of quality, practicality and visual appeal--is the essence of the Shaker design tradition:  Natural beauty that one wants to be around and among for the sake of beauty itself.  This sounds reminiscent of the tale of Endymion retold by Keats:

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,

Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways . . .

Now, the Shakers probably would not have taken to this comparison from the 1800's Keats poem, inspired by the ancient Greek myth of a gorgeous shepherd adored by the goddess of the moon, Selene.  It is Endymion the shepherd who is so beautiful that Selene begs her father Zeus to keep Endymion in a semi-immortal state and partially asleep so that she can entreat him. (He's apparently very handsome while sleeping--sounds like an Aerosmith song I recall--but another time--I digress.) They end up having 50 children! Oy vez!  

This  natural, unadorned beauty while sleeping is actually much like the Shaker aesthetic.  This concept is also aligned with the classical Greek ideal of beauty and the Aristotelian Golden Mean.  Natural, unadorned, devoid of posturing or extremes, the Golden Mean espoused by Aristotle held beauty as pure and the signature example of perfection of the form--neither ostentatious nor primitive. 

The Greeks ascribed to beauty these three attributes:

symmetry, proportion, and harmony. 

Coincidentally, the only class in college that Mr. Artifact and I took at the same time was Ethics--and we studied this concept of the Golden Mean.  I got a B+ (my best grade that semester).  He got an A.  I actually remember this stuff, and he actually does this stuff. (Hmmm. . . well, a B+ is pretty good.  OK, well, I write about it. How's that?)  I distinctly remember our professor discoursing on this theme and entreating us to visualize the perfect chair.  Seriously!  A perfect chair is useful and beautiful.    "What would that be?" he asked.  30 years later, I can say definitely, "It's a Shaker chair."

Basically, Aristotle's Golden Mean is an articulated place between two extremes that is the perfect position.  Moderation is the key virtue in this philosophy.   If you are an engineer I suppose you would call this the "angle of repose" (note to self:  blog about Wallace Stegner).  If you are a chair officinato, you'd call this a Shaker chair.

So, from the ancient Greeks to the Shakers, I bring you Mr. Artifact's renovation of the Shaker style chair.



This chair is one of a pair previously covered with a split wood basket weave.



The bottom had fallen out long ago in this chair. Mr. Artifact refinished the wood and re-wove the seat in cotton Shaker tape with a red and natural color.  In between the top and bottom layers is a foam cushion to give the chair more heft.  For techniques and materials, check out the basket makers catalog.  They have great on-line tutorials as well as all the materials you will need.

The Golden Mean is put to purpose.

 

Great chair for a banjolele concert and it even matches the barn!



In the interest of academic integrity, I must confess that I  had relational knowledge of all these factoids from my General Education undergraduate experience, but I refreshed this understanding with a visit to Wikipedia. But, thank God for a liberal arts education!  Usefulness is one thing, but understanding is. . . priceless.

P.S.  By the way, I do want to thank my elementary school teachers for instilling in me a profound understanding of Doric, Ionic and Corinthian column design.  I love you all! 40 years later, I  am still looking up when in old buildings to see evidence of your lesson plans!