So-Long, Summer.

I just heard the first ice cream truck to pass through my neighborhood all summer, which is ironic because it is Sept. 7, Labor Day has passed, the kids are back in school, and today was overcast.

Yes friends, summer is waning away, making room for the next of seasons.

As an aside, this makes me very happy for a few reasons:
1. The more time passes, the sooner I will be getting married.
2. Cooler weather makes cooking much more fun
3. I got to wash my car today with the knowledge that it will stay clean as the tree I park my car under is done producing the mystery fruit that the parrots (yes, parrots) love to eat. The evidence of which ends up all over my car and thus I have resigned myself to letting my car look like *cuss it* all summer. But now it is clean...muwahaha.

But really, this blog entry is about how I made vegetable broth and put it in mason jars to be frozen.

Today, I made vegetable broth and put it in mason jars to be frozen. It was a wonderful thing to do since I get so tired of buying salt-water-with-a-hint-of-vegetable-essence whenever I need broth for cooking. And I get tired of throwing out veggies that are too old to do much with but not quite bad enough to throw out. Enter broth-making.

It was really quite easy...you don't even need to cut the veggies up, just pop them in the pot. Unless they are to big. Then you can cut them.

how pretty. 

Here's what I used: 

Leftover green beans, some squash, 3 carrots that had lost their crunch, 4 stalks celery, 1 red onion, 3 garlic cloves, some kale, a bay leaf, some fresh rosemary, and a sprinkling of whole peppercorns. The sources I used said you can even use vegetable peelings. One woman said she keeps a bag in her freezer for makeable-into-broth-items. I bet you can guess what she does when it gets full.

Then I filled the pot with water. Enough to just cover the veg. Then I let it simmer for about an hour and a half. Then I let it cool. Then I strained it over a big bowl and ladled it into jars, leaving room for expansion.

so much delish potential

I let the jars cool a little longer and popped them into the freezer. It made 2 1/2 jar's worth, which is about 7 1/2 cups. A lot cheaper than the store bought stuff, and it tasted pretty good!

Happy September, folks. 

Meg

P. S. 

As a tribute to summer, I will include this photo of what I'll call the Summer Fruit Cobbler I made many times this year. The recipe is in Simply In Season (under Fruit Platz), or you could just make some shortcake, cover it with assorted fruit, and sprinkle that with some brown sugar and cinnamon, and bake. That's the rough version. 

until next year, old friend.

What it's truly all about.

I've been trying to buy as many of my groceries at the farmer's market as possible lately and have found myself in a slight conundrum - which sellers to buy from. With some, it's easy. There's one guy who sells honey. Buy his honey. There's one guy who sells bread. Buy that bread.

But when I get to the fruit and vegetables, it's a toss up. I wander around the stands a few times, waiting for the perfect produce to jump out at me and scream "pick me! pick me!" as if one grower's crookneck squash could really be that different from his neighbor's. I've thought about buying from the grower who is the closest, or who is the most organic. But I haven't really felt like asking all of them detailed questions about their farming practices, or doing the math to find out which one uses the least amount of gas to get to Myrtle Ave. every Fri. night.

And then my coworker gave me the "well...duh" answer I needed. I was blabbing at the breakfast table about how I've been buying from the farmer's market and I get stuck wandering as I try to figure out who to buy from and she simply said just buy from the people who are the nicest. I mean, let's think about it. What is the most basic point of the farmer's market anyway - to foster community, to bring consumers a step closer to the land they live off of, and to eliminate the middle man between the farmer and the hungry farmer's market goer. Does it not make sense to buy from the people with whom you could forge a relationship? Alright, so maybe one guy's produce is a little bit more organic (whatever that means) than the next guy (or gal's). But who cares if the next gal is someone you look forward to seeing every Friday night? I mean really!

I got to thinking about the time I gushed about the farm-fresh chicken I brought home (and then had to figure out how to get it off the bone! spoiled by boneless-skinless all my life...eek) and I realized that I really look forward to seeing the chicken farmer and his wife (whose names I now wish I knew, and will ask the next time I need eggs. Or chicken). They are familiar faces, and they provide me with something I really need - food - with no gimmicks, no song and dance, just a smile and a nice to see you again.

And then there's Sam, the fruit guy with whom J bonded over plums. We can't go to the farmer's market without stopping by Sam's stand, sampling all of the plums we've already tried before and chatting it up with our pitted-fruit pal. And he always slips us a new variety, gratis, just for being loyal. Or maybe just because he likes us. Regardless - thanks, buddy.

J, thanks for remembering what is important - the people. As I got all caught up wondering how organic Sam's plums were, you were asking his name. I'm glad I'm marrying you.

Like my parents always said: Let's keep it simple.

vinegar and oil. and baking soda.

Right now I smell like a giant, coconut macaroon. Not joking.

I've been looking into organic/natural hygiene you see, and my research has yielded some surprising results. One of which is coconut oil, which is good for a lot of things, especially a scalp treatment. Since my scalp is always kinda itchy (TMI, perhaps), and since I can never seem to find a shampoo/conditioner that cleans my hair and leaves my scalp hydrated, I thought why not. If it turns out horribly, it's not like anyone is looking. It's just me and the dust bunnies at home right now.

The other interesting bit of info I've been soaking up is this whole notion of "no-'poo", as in no shampoo. There's this underground movement of people who are attempting to redefine normal on the personal hygiene front, not an easy task, and they clean their hair with baking soda and rinse it with vinegar. It's chemical-free, if you're concerned about cancer, reduces plastic waste, if you're concerned about the environment, and it's pretty darn cheap if you're concerned about saving $$.

So I gave that trend a try as well. Results? So far, surprising. After a long day at work, my hair is pretty icky, and I felt squeaky clean after using the "no-poo" method. I rinsed with diluted apple cider vinegar, which did leave me smelling a bit like homemade pickles, but no one gave me any funny looks at work today so assume only I could notice. And after work I let my hair down to reveal a beautiful, grease-free shine. Even my bangs were still feathery. Nice.

The "recipe" I tried:

1. Make a paste out of baking soda and water. Massage into dry scalp.
2. Let sit for 2-3 minutes. Rinse out.
3. Pour dilute vinegar (1 part vinegar to 4 parts water, approx) through hair. Rinse with cool water.

I'm going to let the coconut oil sit for 1 hour and then do the baking soda/vinegar routine. We'll see what happens!

three cheers for the goats.

J and I decided to take a much needed vacay over Memorial Day Weekend this year. As our first "official" vacation together, I decided to consult Sunset Magazine's opinion on where to spend our time. Being a loyal subscriber for 2 years now, it's time I used their services :)

We decided to make San Luis Obispo our home base. One would think we would have spent our weekend wine tasting, but no we zoomed past the wineries in search of true white gold - goats milk.  Yes, it's true - as we pulled up into the driveway of Templeton's Happy Acres Family Farm I felt a twinge of what I can only describe as embarrassment; and I turned to J for reassurance. "Wait, is this the kind of thing that families are supposed to do together? We must be the strangest couple ever!! Look at all of the little kids..." He smiled his trademark patient smile and patted me on the shoulder - "We'll have a great time, M." And then I remembered the promise of fresh goat cheese that we'd get to make and take home. Yep, we will have a great time.

                                          (how can you say no to that face??)

In short, the tour was a BLAST. We (or I, rather - J is less self-conscious than I am) were relieved when we walked over to the gathering group, where families and couples like us stood browsing various goat milk products in the farm store. Stephanie, owner and tour guide extraordinaire took us on the educational adventure of a lifetime - her sheer energy testimony enough to the fact that she loves what she does. Her goats all have names and personalities. We got to learn how to milk (J and I proudly won the milking competition), we took a tour of the farm which includes not only goats but Alpacas, chickens, and some miniature ponies, we got to flavor and take home our own fresh (not to mention organic) goat cheese, oh and then we topped off our tour with some freshly-churned strawberry goat-milk ice cream, which had a refreshing taste and a texture somewhere between sorbet and frozen yogurt.  Fun, delish, educational, a place we'll definitely come back and tour again when we have small-children in tow (a crazy thought).

                                         (the unveiling of our goat cheese)

We spent the rest of our weekend frequenting local SLO restaurants (Big Sky Cafe remains my favorite), making our mark in bubble-gum alley,  tasting at a microbrewery and taking an ocean kayaking tour which led us through sea-caves and introduced us to some new friends.

As far as our adventures in dairying go, I'm sure the next time we're driving up 101 to visit my family, we'll stop in to say hello and to load up on our new favorite goat-milk products.

<3 Meg

                       (we're the tandem kayak in the middle)              

                                                                                                                                                                                               

  

(our contribution to bubblegum alley)

Morning Prayer

As a way to relieve stress and limber up, I've been practicing yoga. This morning, a prayer came to me while I was performing Sun Salutations. Go to the link to see the moves, practice a few times, and then allow the poses to guide you through this prayer or your own. Each line of the prayer corresponds with each pose.

          Father, I stand with firm feet on the earth you have created
     I greet this new day with joy and thanksgiving
        I greet this new day with reverence and respect
  I gaze at the earth from whence I came
    I remember the ground from which I was formed
            I feel it firm and solid beneath me
                   I am thankful for your love, and I accept it
          I come into your presence
  Use this day to teach me
                      I will keep my heart and mind open
                That my love for you will deepen
                        And that I may deeply love and respect self and other

Blessings,

M

to shake the hand that slaughtered your chicken.

My roommate has it right, sort of. In response to the exuberance I exhibited over my recently bought farm-fresh chicken breast, she point blank turned to me and said, "I've just got to say, M, you're WEIRD!"

Weird, maybe. By certain definitions, yes. Unconventional? Probably a kinder adjective. Whatever I am, it doesn't change the fact that I'm making an effort to shop more locally, more sustainably, more "insert buzzword here."

The beauty of my farm-fresh chicken find is that I had just read about the joy of raising chicken to eat in Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. In her book, Barbara describes her family's experience as they move from the burbs of arid Arizona to a farm in rural Virginia. They make a pact - give up all food whose source is unknown or shady. Their goal was to improve their health, the economic health of their community, and to cut down on their dependence on fossil fuel. They end up growing most of their own food. Written by Barbara, renowned novelist, with additions by her husband and eldest daughter, it describes the family project with plenty of grace, humor, and facts. A great read.

So when I drove up to the Sierra Madre Farmer's Market that meets on Wednesdays from 3-7, I was elated to find more than the usual fruit and veggies. Chicken! Eggs! Mushrooms! Woot! And to think I almost drove past it, as it meets in a parking lot off the main road. I was like a kid in a candy store. I brought the bird home and popped it in the broiler Julia-Child style - brushed with butter and sprinkled with herbs. To know that my chicken was raised just a few miles away and lived a happy little free-range chicken life made savoring it much more enjoyable. Knowing that my money went towards a family enterprise made savoring it much more enjoyable. Thank you, Rivadeniera Farm.

Adventures in local, sustainable, farm-fresh are turning out to be quite rewarding.

An education is a dangerous thing to have. With knowledge comes power, and with power comes obligation and the need for a wholelotta wisdom.

It all began when I watched Food, Inc., a modern-day equivalent of Upton Sinclair's The Jungle. Thanks to filmmaker Robert Kenner, my eyes were opened to the truth behind the industrializaton of food - how big business has sacrificed food quality increase profits. The cow and the chicken are no longer complex creatures belonging to an ecosystem but commodities to be processed, genetically modified organisms are beginning to dominate our landscapes, and single-crop "farms" are depleting the soil of vital nutrients leading to an increase in disease and need for more pesticides and antibiotics. Ignorance is bliss; after seeing the film I felt like crawling into an imaginary void and curling into the fetal position - my understanding of food and American culture was deconstructed before my very eyes. (Paradigm shift anyone?)

Since my curiosity was piqued, I felt obligated to take a stand, for my health and the health of my community. Encouraged by the movie to vote with my dollar, I chose to only buy organic for 40 days. In doing so, I had to give up the myriad of choices offered to me by my local grocery store and get creative with my cooking. Saying no to tomatoes since they weren't in season was difficult, but it also made me look forward to summer when they would be available in the organic section.

During these 40 days I also began reading. What do all of the different organic certifications mean? What is a grass-fed cow? What is the difference between a free-range chicken and an organic chicken? I read In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto by Michael Pollan. I've contemplated joining a CSA. I've bought more food from my local farmer's market. I'm currently reading Silent Spring by Rachel Carson as a continuation of my environmental education.

The bottom line is that it's all about stewardship. It's incredibly disheartening how our fast-paced Western lifestyle has disconnected us from the very earth we live on. We favor accomplishing tasks and have forgotten that the greatest joys are found in the process of getting from point A to point B. And this lifestyle has permeated the very core of our culture - our eating habits - as evidenced by the fact that we no longer know where our food comes from, how it's made, or quite frankly what is in it. Eating is a means to an end instead of a daily time to stop, gather together and share.

It's all I can do to keep my feet planted here in LA, where a grass-fed dairy seems nonexistent and where fast-paced is the norm. I daydream about my little utopia; I live in a small community where each of us is interdependent upon the other for the necessities in life, neighbors share meals, and nobody worries about reading food labels because they simply don't exist.