A Little Taste of the Meaning of Life

When my mom was about twelve, her family moved to a lovely piece of property in the southwest.  Behind the house, there was a small pecan orchard.  Every December, as I understand it, my grandpa would hire someone to have the trees shaken so that he and his family could harvest the nuts.  My grandparents lived in that house until I was about ten years old and I spent many a Christmas wandering that backyard and finding many a nut on the ground.  Along with a fondness for my grandparents' small town home, I came to love pecans.

For Thanksgiving, Ben and I trekked back down that town, where many of my Dad's family still reside.  As we sat at the crowded table, and I raised my fork to dig into a slice of pecan pie, I turned to Ben, gestured to the pie, and said (tongue in cheek, of course), "This right here is the meaning of life."

"What?  Pecan pie?"

I shrugged.  "Or just pecans," I replied.  Since then, Ben has wondered aloud whether pecans were the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden.  It's unlikely, but the thought makes me smile.

Anyhow - the following month, as Christmas approached and I tried to answer the questions my husband and family posed about what I wanted to find under the tree, I found myself at a loss.  Finally, I told my mom, "All I want this year are some pecans.  And maybe some honey."  I guess that means that I'm either a very content person (in spite of my constant whining from beginning to end of the Christmas season...hmm, that doesn't add up) or that I'm lacking in creativity.  If I'm going to be completely honest, I'll have to admit that it was probably the latter.

However - after arriving home with the not one, but two bags of pecans I received for Christmas, I decided, this morning, to knead a handful into one of my loaves of bread.  While doing so I popped a couple in my mouth and do you know what?  I don't regret my request one bit.  They taste just like the meaning of life.

Wild Running

When I was in college, I was crazy about running.  I was never a very good athlete, certainly never good enough to participate on a college team, but it was my escape and I loved it.  As my schedule became more demanding, I began to wake up at 5:00 or 5:30 in the morning to get my daily exercise, winter or summer, rain or snow or clear sky.  I found that there was something oddly enchanting about the silent, frosty mornings that I met between November and March.

It's been years since I had that routine.  I'm discovering that one of the most puzzling challenges raising a very young child is finding a way to exercise in the winter.  Fed up with the handful of cheesy televised workouts through which I usually rotate, I decided, this morning, to attempt to recover the daily ritual that was so dear to me a few years ago.

I have to admit that I'm not in the shape I once was.  My legs aren't accustomed to carrying me the way they did before and when I was doing this sort of thing every morning, my lungs didn't mind it.  Now the jolt of the cold alongside the increased demands of my muscles awakens the usually-dormant exercise-induced asthma, limiting how far I can push myself.

Nevertheless, as I pushed myself around and around the track - a far cry from the mountain trails and twisting streets I used to chase - covered from head to ankles to reddened knuckles with layers of fabric, the enchantment returned.  I had the clear, cold stars all to myself and from my ear buds, music kept time with my steps.

I'm not saying that I recommend this routine.  I'm not entirely sure that I'll be willing to drive myself to do it again soon, but there is something unique about it, and beautiful.  There's some element of insanity and some feeling of power, even as I'm all but shivering between sweat and wintry cold.  And the music is...exquisite.  Running out there on my own reminded me of a passion for music that I had long since forgotten.  The cold, the dark, the solitude, the movement or the wildness - or maybe a combination of all of them - gives the music a whole new dimension.

   

Curry Fry

Once upon a time, I was making stir-fry, and I had a thought.  It went like this: I'm using about 1/4 cup of soy sauce and just as much brown sugar for this meal...for two people.  That's a lot of salt and sugar per serving.  Since then I've been trying to style my Asian-inspired foods after curry, rather than regular stir-fry.

Usually, I'm very good at over-steaming my vegetables so that the result is somewhat...gray.  Ugh.  The following was a lovely success.  I wouldn't go so far as to call it curry, as I don't keep things like coconut milk around, but maybe 'curry fry' would be an appropriate name.

Ingredients:

 - 3/4 cup of brown rice

 - 1 1/2-1 3/4 cups water

 - 1 tsp butter

 - pinch of salt

 - 1 large carrot, chopped

 - 1/2 large onion, wedged

 - 1/2 cup of frozen peas

 - 1/2-1 cup of pumpkin, peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes (remember my nativity pumpkin?)

 - 1-2 Tbsp oil

 - 1/2 tsp garlic

 - salt & pepper to taste

- 1/2 cup of chicken broth or 1/2 cup water + chicken boullion

 - 1 Tbsp cornstarch

 - 1 tsp curry powder

 - 1/4 tsp ginger powder

 - 1/8 tsp mustard powder

 - shot of soy sauce

 - teeny tiny dash of red pepper, if you like it spicy

Prep:

1. Combine water, salt, butter and rice and prepare per package instructions (mine cooked for 45 minutes).

2. Heat oil in a frying pan and add onion and carrot.  Toss until coated and slightly softened.  Add peas, pumpkin, garlic, salt, pepper and 1/2(ish) cups water.  Decrease heat, cover, and let steam - and be careful.  That pumpkin and carrot will absolutely LOVE to adhere to the bottom of your pan.

3. While veggies are steaming, combine water/broth, boullion, cornstarch, curry, ginger, mustard, soy sauce and red pepper.  Whisk together until smooth.

4. When the water has all evaporated and the vegetables are soft, turn the heat up a little and add the sauce (cornstarch mixture).  Mix with a spatula or wooden spoon until the sauce thickens and begin to bubble.  Remove from heat.

Serve curry fry on top of rice.

*Only after the fact did it occur to me that it might have been very very yummy to crush some fennel seeds and saute and steam them with the vegetables.  If anyone tries this before I get the chance, please let me know how it goes!*

And here's a picture of my helper. :)

Pumpkin Spice Near Miss

There's a bag of pumpkin spice kisses that has been in our cupboard for about two weeks now.  When it first appeared, among a few other lovingly packed items in a Happy Halloween package from my mom, I determined (after squealing for joy) that I would not open it before Halloween night, knowing that if I did, the treat would almost immediately disappear and we would have nothing festive with which to celebrate the holiday.

A few mornings ago, after lazing about far more than is good, even on a Saturday, I went for it.  I've learned that junk food and I don't get along well in the mornings.  If I indulge too early in the day, I tend to feel icky for the rest of it and am more likely to make poor choices (nutritionally speaking) later on - so I was breaking two rules when I padded, still pajama-clad, into the kitchen, in search of naughtiness.

I found the bag on the top shelf, behind the vitamin bottles, and lifted it out.  With determination, I took hold of the plastic wrapper from either side of the seam and pulled.  It didn't come apart.  Through my mind fluttered the thought, 'you haven't opened it yet.  You haven't made the choice yet.  It's not too late to turn back.'

Glimpsing the diagram on the bag, of the orange exterior chocolate and creamy, pumpkin-spicy interior, I thought, 'I'm deciding now.  It's too late.'  I took the bag in my fists and squeezed.  Desperate little snatches of 'Too late - not too late' darted back and forth in my mind.

The bag did not pop.  I considered it for a moment, said, "hmm..." and then tossed it back onto the top shelf.

Here's to one of those little victories.

Spiced Autumn Chicken Stew

It seems like in order to blog about food or cooking, you have to be a photographer, and an excellent photographer at that.  I am not.  I think I have mentioned before that I take most of my pictures with my phone, and if the thing I'm looking at isn't my daughter doing something adorable, I usually don't think to take a picture of it.  I love to cook.  I love food, and I love love love autumn.  The pictures will just have to come later.

When I tried describing this successful experiment to my mom, she seemed a little bit aghast that I would put sugar and cinnamon with chicken and potatoes.  Trust me on this one, though.  It tastes like yum.

This is loosely (very loosely) based on this recipe for Autumn Sausage Casserole.  I wanted to make a very Autumnal dish, but lacked pretty much all of the ingredients that make that what it is - raisins, sausage, apples...  I would highly recommend it, though.

What I did have was bone-in chicken that needed to be crock-potted, since I didn't want to go to the trouble of separating meat and bones that didn't want to be separated, basic stew vegetables (you know - carrots, potatoes, celery), spices, and a husband who is always up for an experiment.  I've made this twice now and both times, the results have been lovely.

Here's what I used:

• 1 chicken leg (don't think that because you shop somewhere fancy like Safeway, the chicken you buy won't have odd little quirks like, oh, I don't know, the feet still attached?  If yours does, get rid of those talons first.)  I'm sure a breast would be fine, too.
• 1 medium-sized potato, chopped (If you have a yam or a sweet potato to add instead, it will be especially good, but a regular potato does just fine.)
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 1 stalk of celery, chopped

Throw all this in the crock pot (I think mine is 1.5 quarts), then in a small mixing bowl or measuring cup, combine:

• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp allspice
• 1 tsp chicken boullion
• 1/2-1 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp pepper
• 1-2 tsp parsley
• 1/2 tsp thyme (OK, I mostly just added this because I have been looking for it for almost two years now.  I found it in one grocery store and it was very expensive so I didn't bother, but the urging struck again a year later, and none of the grocery stores where we were then living even had it, then, the other day, miraculously, I found it at the Family Dollar, of all places, for *drumroll* a dollar!  It did make a nice addition to this stew, though).
• 2 heaping tbsp brown sugar (You're going to trust me, remember?)
• 1/3 cup of warm water

Pour the spices on top of the chicken and veggies and let it cook on high for 3-4 hours, until the chicken is cooked through and the vegetables are soft.  My little crock is a speed demon and does it as quickly as two-and-a-half, sometimes.  Ben and I basically knew it was done when we starting to smell it.  I've never tried it on low, because I've never thought about it long enough in advance.  I'm guessing that 6-8 hours would do the trick, though.  

The second time I made this, I added more water (a cup, I think), so the spices were a little less pronounced and I had more liquid in the final product.  We ended up serving it over white rice and loved it that way.  I can't help but imagine what it would be like over wild rice, but we're not that rich, and I'm totally an advocate for healthy eating on a budget.

*This only makes 2-3 servings, but it would be an easy recipe to double using a bigger crock pot.*