Eckhart Tolle and my Uncle Terrell have taught me a lot about living life in the present, certainly enough to make me question the tense of this sentence as I write it. Perhaps they teach me. Or at least they tried to teach me. Whatever. It’s a lesson I continually need to remind myself of. And these days, my reminder mechanisms aren’t functioning at their best. Lately, I’ve been itching to try this little “presence” exercise of focusing on the here and now- the Right Now- that Lisa and UndertheBIGbluesky have been sharing.
“Realize deeply that the present moment is all you have. Make the NOW the primary focus of your life.” — Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now
Here goes: July 27, 2010 7:46 AM
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In my paper cup: A mostly black blend that Rich brought me while Mazy and I were out walking.
In my head:The Selby is in my Place is in my head and I’m imagining him coming to my home, where he’d shoot some unnoticed corner that would appear beautifully melodic and I’d think, “wow, my house isn’t such a disaster, after all.”
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I am thankful for: Memories of Sunday spent with my family under the covered deck in the 102 degree heat.
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On my nightstand: 1. The Elements of Style (illustrated version) by Will Strunk and E.B. White and now I’m wondering if you italicize book names or bold them? I should go get the book, but I won’t. Note to family: bury me with this book, just in case. Me must write pretty in heaven. 2. Synthroid. 3. A glass of water- half full. 4. Lint. 5+. The latest Garden & Gun, Pottery Barn catalog, a paperback copy of The Book Thief, a paperback copy of The Yarn Harlot.
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On my mind: Quilts. In love with my freshly washed Double Wedding Ring.
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In the fridge: a drawer full of cold, ripe peaches. Leftover pasta salad.
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Overheard in the other room: Matt Lauer
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On my thermometer: 75 degrees Fahrenheit
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Feeling: Anxious about being late for work. Happy about going in late for work. Anxious. Happy. Mostly happy. Happy to be here.
Issue no. 12 | Post no. 5: You don’t have to be a card-carrying, scrapbook-clubbing, crafter to wield a glue gun or a brandish a pair of knitting needles. We all have lurking, repressed talents- beyond our collective cooking prowess. Did you know that these underused gifts – by universal law- must occasionally be unloosed into the exosphere? ‘Strue. So is your crafty alter ego in need of a little push?
How about 65 minutes of adrenaline-pumping inspiration that will electrify your crafty little fingers? Oh yeah. This is the summer of L-O-V-E. It’s the Paper Apron’s first-ever Give-a-Way, Share-a-Way, Craft-a-Way! I’m sending a copy of Handmade Nation: the Rise of DIY Art, Craft, and Design to one lucky winner, hidden somewhere inside one of our 50 united states.
Wait. There’s a hitch. Read the small print:
To enter, leave a comment sharing the name of one lucky person that you will pass the DVD along to, after you watch it, should you win. First names, nicknames, names made up to protect the innocent, whatever- this is the honor system. It would be super duper if that lucky person passed it along, as well, and so on, and so on and so on and so on. Until one day, it shows back up on my doorstep, tattered, and scratched and years beyond my memory of the yard sale where I’d sold my obsolete DVD player for pennies. But I should probably keep my one-with-the-universe aspirations in check.
In about two weeks, (let’s say Wednesday, August 4th, 11 PM EST, if I can stay up that late) I’ll write everyone’s name down on a scrap of paper (I’m a purist) and I’ll ask a random passerby to pick one name out of a hat. I’ll write you to get your mailing info and you, my lucky winner, will be off to the movies.
In the meantime, I’ve started my own summer crafting adventure. Any guesses as to what it’s going to be?
Issue 12 | Post no. 4: I could subsist carefree and happily on fruit and vegetables during the summer: a bowl of peaches and blueberries for breakfast, a tomato and cucumber salad for lunch. And for supper, a bowl of warm butter beans and an ear of sweet corn on the cob. I actually eat plenty of meat, but as long as we’re milking this vegetarian fantasy, if I were allowed a dairy cow and a hen, I’d make a fire by the beach (yes, my fantasy farm is on an island off the coast of France), whip up veggie-filled, Gruyere quiches and eat happily-ever-after as Madame Crusoe.
Quiche is one of my favorite summer meals. There’s no crust to roll out and you can use up a lot of the veggies from your garden. Right now we have tons of jalapenos so I’m throwing them into every meal I make. When you remove the seeds, they add a subtle, spicy crunch to salads, pizzas, guacamole and omelets.
Our tomatoes are refusing to grow in this heat and we don’t even attempt to grow corn, so I find myself pulling off at my local market almost every night on my way home from work. Thank goodness for real-live local farmers.
Sweet Corn and Tomato Quiche
Serves six Butter or Oil for pie plate
1 1/4 cup grated Gruyere Cheese
1/2 Sweet Onion, chopped
3 to 6 Jalapenos/Banana Peppers seeded and minced (optional)
2 ripe Tomatoes, sliced thin
2 ears Sweet Corn, off the cob
2 T chopped fresh Basil and extra leaves for chiffonade topping
4 Eggs
1 small can (5 oz.) Evaporated Milk
1/8 t freshly Ground Pepper
1/4 t Salt
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9 inch pie plate with butter, cooking spray or oil. Layer the Gruyere cheese, then onion, peppers, and the slices of one tomato. Add the corn and top with slices of the second tomato. In a medium-size bowl, crack four eggs and pour in one small can of evaporated milk. Add salt and pepper, whisk, and pour over vegetables. Add basil and another grind of pepper. Bake for 30 minutes or until center is set. Smother cooked quiche with basil chiffonade and serve immediately.
Issue no. 12 | Post no. 3: Three seasons out of the year, I am a solid girl. I wear solid colors, I eat off solid colored plates, I dream in solid colored dreams. I play the game of life in safe mode. Then summer drives in, bouncing atop a vintage orange Vespa, music blaring, pink paisley sarong flying, her over-sized yellow and lime-striped shades concealing one brown eye and one blue. She is fearless in her mismatched clothes, her joie de vivre. She has a reckless disregard for anything solid, anything stable or safe. Summer is here and she is all about mixing, but not necessarily matching. Summer insists that my alter ego come out and play.
The Caring Forest, by APAK
Today’s post is a mismatched, stream of consciousness celebration of the creative, colorful spirit that summer brings out in us all. Plus, I saw the movie Handmade Nation last night, and it’s driving me crafty.
Oh, about the print above: BuyOlympia.com sells this enchanting print- The Caring Forest- for $35.00. It’s a great little online store, if you’re staying inside and chilling with the A.C.
The Little Friends of Printmaking sell this lovely orange lady print as well as the pink skull print. These two print makers are on the edge of artsy/ crafty/ crazy.
Handmade Nation: the Movie
I wasn’t sure what to expect from this exposé about the rise of the underground crafting culture in our nation, but Holy button holes, Batman; it is truly inspirational. From the handmade title animation and sing-songy, clapping “Hands On” theme music(are you listening to it? isn’t it great?), this documentary weaves its tale through the mouths of dozens of artisans, telling their stories with a deadpan seriousness, often wry and darkly humorous. Suddenly, you find yourself hooked like a handmade rug in the DIY spirit. And if that handmade rug has a naked woman or an oversize skull on it, then it’s surely circa 2000-2020. Craft has gone a bit subversive. It laughs at itself now and it has one wicked sense of humor.
The film succeeds at elevating wonky felt monsters and mittens-as-punk-band-swag to a hip, refreshingly real, reflection of the times, which in many ways is an anthropological, evolutionary consumerism backlash against anything sold pre-packaged in plastic at Walmart. Ho boy. I just realized my fascination with Anthropologie is a direct result of their manipulation of the handmade, unique item, one-and-only-vintage, foreign/thrift-store appeal cravings that we are all having. Yet, they are riding the wave with a mostly mass-produced sales floor. Well, aren’t they sly and stealthy geniuses?
(Oh, and to slip quickly down another rabbit hole- here’s a link to Anthro’s chief buyers TV show: Man Shops Globe. Haven’t seen it. Can’t wait to, though.)
We Rejoin our Regularly Scheduled Movie Discussion…
Besides, leaving a theater with a rediscovered desire to break out your glue gun, is what I call a fine use of an afternoon. If you haven’t seen it, yet, you may want to check the schedule to see if/when it’s coming to a theater near you. Or, buy the book. Yep, there’s a book.
June Apron | Eliza Kate Designs
This is the spunk. This is the spunk we all need more of. I love this pose. I love those boots.
Our June apron (really a child’s apron dress) can be found on Eliza Kate’s Etsy store. And as we all know, Etsy is the ultimate online sales tool of stay at home crafters and professional artisans.
Are the Scandinavians cool or are the Scandinavians what?
Those stylish Scandinavians are at it again. They’re having fun with modern shapes, materials and graphic design. Here’s a melamine chicken tray from huset that is pecking away at my heartstrings. Is a product designers mission nothing but to entice you to buy what you never knew you wanted?
True, this chicken tray is possibly mass-produced, but it sure has the look and feel of a crafty style.
It’s Madness, I Tell You
Oh, and I’m reading these craft books. And I have my sewing kits out- this is progress! And here’s a handmade bustier that I made years ago, back when I was feeling quite crafty and totally crazy and well, less bust-ier. I’m off to get into some trouble. Enjoy your day!
HOME– As a teenager, I’d wake up before sunrise and walk out on the porch to the stillness of a wide, platinum-gray lake, laid out before me like a deep, dark mirror– quietly, reverently, waiting to reflect the sun. In one corner of the sky, the clouds would begin to blush like the fuzzy cheeks of summer peaches. Then the day would stand up, stretch, and step over the trees. Immediately, the gray, still water would start to twinkle with stars of sparkling sapphires and yellow and white diamonds. Watching this awakening, you could feel all the possibilities of life warm your shoulders and you were ready for whatever would come next. Like breakfast.
Today, I wake up to a peaceful, sleepy street, whose dew-kissed lawns and draping oak arms, coax me out onto cooled, old concrete. Or, perhaps it’s Mazy doing the coaxing. Nonetheless, the experience of an early urban summer morning, without the grandeur of a lake sunrise over a mile-long horizon, is still worth the effort. The peace and quiet are still here– every sweet, humid Southern morning. And getting out for an early walk is nothing less than ceremony.
Mazy is a good companion. Today, we wandered the streets of nearby Wales Garden, hoping to get a call from Rich (leaving on his daily Charlotte trek), who indeed met us and handed me a paper cup of piping-hot coffee. Half-way through our walk, Mazy took a dip in an old horse fountain. Nearing home, we had grown into giants. And as the sun climbed over the rooftops, we were well on our way… to breakfast, of course.
HOME– Yes, I’ve been away. But, let’s talk about that another day, okay?
This morning, I’m arranging flowers in my new laboratory beakers. It’s humid and unbearably HOT here in South Carolina, so a morning walk to collect flowers and garden vegetables is about all of the outdoor activity that I can imagine today.
I found this inventive little glassware on a pilgrimage to Anthropologie yesterday. The one with the white hydrangea is actually a small carafe from Ikea, but it holds its own with the chemical brothers.
And for those of you with a keen eye, yes, my chalkboards are empty. But soon, they will be filled -once again- with goals and dreams for the year… albeit, the second half of the year.
I also bought a few of Anthropologie’s infamously hot-ticketed cappuccino bowls. At 5 bucks each, I piled twelve on the counter. Of course, I didn’t need twelve new bowls, but look at this palette! I couldn’t resist. And I have to say, the pretty pale aqua bowl made my morning cereal taste extra special.
And look at this adorable ceramic colander. I have to bite my finger it’s so cute- it cups my morning garden harvest like a little… well, like a bowl. It cups them like a bowl. Okay, so it’s been a while- months, actually. Perhaps my similes and metaphors aren’t exactly flowing from the fingers, yet.
HOME– So. Where were we? We were talking about Muhammara. You remember- the spicy Middle Eastern dip heavy on the roasted red peppers, garlic and olive oil; with a few toasted walnuts thrown in for nutty goodness.
Yep. And we were talking about how lip-licking tasty this stuff is. Were you there? Well, if you were or if you weren’t, you are now and that’s all that matters. I have been snacking on this stuff for the past two weeks, most of which time, I’ve been under the weather. When this happens, I have this unproven theory that spicy foods will kick me back into prime time. One day, I am sure it will work. In the meantime, the spice seems to suffice.
Anyway, it’s high time I share.
My good friend, culinary connoisseur, and, lest-I-mention one of THE MOST RIGHTEOUS home cooks I’ve ever known– Kelly Bragg, first shared this with me many years ago. I thought it was delish and I drove home from Kiawah Island and whipped up a batch for myself. For years, I couldn’t get enough of this dip with a funny name.
You know how it is… you fall in love with a taste and you just can’t get enough. And then slowly, over the years, you forget about your palate’s true love and life moseys along. I hope you make it and love it as much as I do. Don’t bother waiting until you’re feeling bad.
Muhammara
Makes about 1 3/4 cups
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7-ounce jar Roasted Red Peppers, drained
2/3 cup fine Fresh Bread Crumbs
1/3 cup Walnuts, toasted lightly and chopped fine
2 to 4 Garlic cloves, minced and mashed to a paste with 1/2 teaspoon Salt
1 tablespoon fresh Lemon Juice, or to taste
1 teaspoon ground Cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried, hot Red Pepper Flakes
2 t Pomegranate Molasses
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3/4 cup Extra-Virgin Olive Oil
toasted Pita triangles as an accompaniment
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In a food processor blend together the peppers, the bread crumbs, the walnuts, the garlic (go easy on this unless your taste buds are willing to be catapulted), the lemon juice, the pomegranate molasses, the cumin, the red pepper flakes, and salt to taste until the mixture is smooth and, with the motor running, add the oil gradually. Transfer the muhammara to a bowl and serve it at room temperature with the pita triangles.
Camden, South Carolina– Today is spectacular- one of those extraordinarily perfect days that make all the others jealous. Today is also a day for celebrating the unconventional. Today we took my mom and dad on a skeet shooting adventure.
Shooting orange clay pigeons out of the sky with a 12-gauge shotgun isn’t exactly what I’d envisioned in my future, let’s say, EVER. But, I have to admit I’ve fallen head over heels for the sport. No wolves are harmed and shooting a few rounds of shells from a high powered gun is exhilarating, despite the unwelcome comparisons.
I know. It is a stretch. But before I was too critical, I tried it. And I loved it. Part of my hesitation was no doubt the elephant-gun-sized stigma that guns have earned. And living in South Carolina has its share of cultural baggage–historically, we have been known to bear a few too many arms. And today, we still are a bit overzealous about our right to do that. It doesn’t exactly make me well with pride, but I do understand both sides of the issue.
So, what does this skeet shooting soiree have to do with a mustard greens salad? Well, earlier today, when the sun hung itself like a big slow moving skeet in the sky, I ate my first outdoor lunch of the year. And it, too, was exhilarating.
You see, swearing by this Issue’s subtitle, “Organically Smitten,” I’ve become somewhat of an organic groupie. I’ve been skulking around the locally-grown, organic fruits and vegetable aisle, bypassing the conventional, shipped-from-around-the-world fruit on the shelf and paying oh-so-dearly for my little health folly. I’ve also been expecting more. And I haven’t been disappointed.
This salad has a hot and spicy kickback like that big old shotgun. And I love it. If you can find baby mustard greens, it’s even better because of the softness in the leaves. I didn’t grow up eating uncooked mustard greens. At the very least, they were wilted. But, straight out of the Mother Earth, they burst inside your mouth like tiny whirring bottle rockets, curling and zipping all around your tongue.
I know this recipe may be a long shot for many of you, but I, for one, am smitten. If I owned a restaurant, this salad would be on my menu.
For your amusement, (and in no way my Mother’s amusement) I’ve added a special photo of my mom, Jackie, firing off her first shotgun shell. I love how her mind is always open to new things, like firing a shotgun for fun or eating a raw mustard green salad with quinoa.
Oh, and there’s also one of growing Mazy- already over forty pounds! From what I could tell, she’s a fan of skeet shooting, too.
Mustard Greens Salad with Quinoa, Feta and Lemon Vinaigrette
Serves two, easily doubled
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1/2 cup uncooked Quinoa (cook like rice – in 1 cup of salted water)
1 cup cooked Garbanzo Beans
4 cups loosely packed Mustard Greens, torn into bite-sized pieces (baby mustard greens are a great find)
5-10 Kalamata olives
3 Pepperoncini, cut into slices
1 Scallion, chopped
Chunks of fresh Feta Cheese
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In a large salad bowl, combine cooked quinoa, garbanzo beans and half of lemon vinaigrette. Add remaining ingredients and toss.
— Lemon Vinaigrette
3 T Olive Oil
3 T White Balsamic Vinegar
Juice and grated peel of 1 Medium Lemon
1 t Honey
1/4 t Sea Salt (taste and add more, if preferred)
A few fresh grinds of Black Pepper
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Combine all ingredients in a small jar and shake. Makes enough vinaigrette for two recipes.
Issue no. 10: Yes, there should be commentary on these twenty eight days. But, there’s none to be had this morning. Perhaps later.
Until then, maybe these meager words will suffice. I know you’re wondering what a verbose girl like me is doing with a practically wordless post. I suppose the truth is, that sometimes in life you just have to throw in the towel on certain moments and declare, “I got nothin.”
HOME– Walking down the grocery aisle, I find myself slipping another Sabra Hummus into my cart. I am a Sabra junkie. It’s the only packaged hummus that keeps me coming back for more. Open my refrigerator, on any random day, and you will find the red plastic tub on the middle shelf.
Unless we’ve eaten it all.
It comes in over a dozen different varieties. And every variety I’ve tried, I’ve loved. My favorites are the Supremely Spicy, the Jalapeno, and the Greek Olive. I have a spicy, salty tongue. And I buy way too many red plastic tubs.
And love Sabra as I may, I need fewer plastic tubs in my life.
So today, I am returning to my long lost recipe for homemade hummus.
I also want to remove as much of the citric acid, potassium sorbate and sodium benzoate, as is humanly possible when you live and buy food off of any urban corner in America.
As I type this, I realize I forgot the fresh jalapenos– altering the universe in one fell swoop can be tough.
Basic Hummus, spiked with Jalapenos
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2 cups Garbanzo Beans, or Chick Peas (Dried, cooked-in-Kosher Salt beans are the BEST, but cans, drained, will do in a pinch)
1/3 cup TahiniPaste
1/3 cup Lemon Juice (1 medium lemon= 3 T juice, so approximately 2 to 3 lemons, depending on size, add the pulp)
1 large clove of Garlic, roughly chopped
1/2 t Kosher Salt
Good quality, Extra Virgin Olive Oil, for drizzling
1/4 cup Jalapenos, minced (here, I go for the jar, but fresh slices, soaked in vinegar, make this a health food junkie’s spread)
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Combine all ingredients except Olive Oil and Jalapenos into a food processor. Whir until smooth. Remove to a bowl. Pour on the Olive Oil and jalapenos. Add some baked chips or toasted pita slices.
HOME– Love comes in many forms over a lifetime. Lately, in our house, it’s coming in the form of healthy, fresh food, prepared with intention. We’ve grown rather fond of our new two cooks in the kitchen habit. Whoever seems to have the most energy or enthusiasm for cooking takes over the kitchen for the night, while the other hangs out and talks about the day or shares the latest news or funny video clip off of the Internet.
It’s like warming your hands over a burner– love at its toastiest.
If we were out somewhere, paying big bucks for a fancy meal, I’d probably be scanning the menu for risotto. Chefs have a way of stirring this plain white grain into luxurious and extravagant spoonfuls. They mix up delightful and beatific harmonies, such as butternut squash and smoked pork, red pear and Gorgonzola, or risotto with fennel and fresh peas. At home, I charge much less for my risotto dishes and, frankly, my pairings are just as curious, extravagant and delightful.
Tonight’s my turn at the stove and I’m cooking a red pepper risotto, topped with delicate fried sage leaves. Frying the sage layers the risotto with a subtle, earthy aroma and adds a soft, crisp tease for your teeth.
This will be served up alongside Ina Garten’s Parmesan Chicken- my favorite recipe for boneless, skinless chicken. Haven’t tried it yet? Well, get thee to thy poultry aisle and don’t forget to grab some lemons and a wedge of the finest Parmesan you can swing. Oh, yeah. Ina’s Parmesan Chicken is one of the bestmodern classics you can memorize.
Red Pepper Risotto with Fried Sage Leaves
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20-30 fresh Sage leaves
Olive Oil
1 Small Yellow Onion
1 clove Garlic (optional)
3-4 Celery Heart stalks and leaves, cut into a small chop
1 cup dry Risotto (Arborio Rice), rinsed until the water runs clear
2-3 cups good quality Chicken Stock (I recommend the left-over aspic from a slow-cooker whole chicken or chicken breasts)
1 Red Bell Pepper, chopped
Kosher Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper, to taste
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In a large frying pan, fry the sage leaves in a light layer of olive oil, turning them once. Place on paper towels. In a medium saucepan, soften onion, garlic and celery on low heat. Sprinkle a small amount of salt. Add rice and saute for two more minutes. Add Red Bell Pepper and slowly add chicken stock, 1/4 to 1/2 cup at a time, until rice is thick and cooked, about 25 minutes. Taste, season, add sage leaves, and serve.
