SAVOR THE DAY

The Chicken or the Egg?

2012-02-22T18:01:00.001-08:00

My hen Sapphire

There’s still a chill in the air, but I’m already making plans for the months ahead. As I was looking at seed catalogs and dreaming of the beautiful herbs, flowers, and vegetables that’ll grow in my garden this summer, I started to think about the metaphorical seeds we plant in the spring, the time that traditionally represents new beginnings.

In this time of starting anew, I’m wondering how to begin…

First blossoms of the year in my dad's fruit orchard

Up until this point, family, school, and work have dictated most of my life. I grew up in Seattle because that’s where my parents lived. Then off to Massachusetts I went because I got accepted at my dream college. After that, I flew to Paris for graduate school. Upon finishing my thesis, I landed at a boarding school in Maine for my first job. Then, Los Angeles beckoned with a teaching position I couldn’t refuse. Four years later, I left education to pursue my passion for cooking and writing. My parents’ town of Paso Robles, in California wine country—ranked one of the “foodiest small towns” by Bon Appétit—was an obvious choice.

Now nearly three years hence, I enjoy this town and love having my parents just up the road, but I still haven’t set down roots. Friends have always been important to me; yet, I haven’t created much of a community here.

Downtown Paso Robles

When my parents came here from Seattle 11 years ago, they planned to stay forever. But, things change.

Although their move doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll move, it’s made me start to evaluate my own life and whether or not my future is here. Since most of my work is mobile, for the first time, my destiny doesn’t depend on anything other than the whisperings of my heart, which is both frightening and exhilarating.

In August I decided to take a break from dating, but I’m feeling the itch to get back out there and find a man to marry and start a family with. But, to grow a beautiful garden or a wonderful life, you can’t throw just any seeds in the ground, walk away, and expect miracles. Just as I spend hours pouring over seed catalogs to choose the right varieties of vegetables and then carefully plant, water, and nurture the seeds into a bountiful harvest, it’s the same with the metaphorical seeds we plant. Unfortunately, we can’t just scatter them willy-nilly and wait for our perfect life to unfurl. We have to make calculated decisions and take action.

My very first egg from my small flock of hens

Right now, however, I’m not sure what actions to take. Do I start with the chicken or the egg? Do I move to a city or town that I think might feed my soul and then find my dream man, or do I find the man and then move to where he is? Life is full of big questions like these; however, only when we hone in on what we truly desire and take steps in that direction can we reap the bounty. When you plant seeds, they may grow differently than you expect, but their fruit only exists as a result of your initial actions of planting and tending to them.

As we approach the season of new beginnings, what seeds will you be planting? In what ways will you nurture them?

The harvest of Delicata squash from my garden

Nurturing Baked Delicata

While we make plans to plant seeds (both actual and metaphorical), use these cold winter nights to pull inward, nurture yourself, and replenish your energy for the powerful new beginnings ahead.

There’s nothing quite as warm and comforting as winter squash. This recipe for Delicata squash is simple but very satisfying.

Delicata squash (plan 1 to 2 halves per person)
Maple syrup
Saigon cinnamon (also called Vietnamese cinnamon)

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Wash the squash and then cut in half lengthwise. Use a small spoon to scoop out the seeds. Place the squash, cut side up, on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Judiciously drizzle with maple syrup (they’re already pretty sweet on their own) and sprinkle with Saigon cinnamon. Bake until soft and slightly browned, about 1 hour.

Delicata squash growing in my garden last summer

Baked Delicata

“Help” Shouldn’t Be a Four-Letter Word

2012-02-10T14:15:00.000-08:00

Sunrise over the Matterhorn. I took this photo in 2004 when I was teaching in Zermatt, Switzerland

Has your body ever given you a big ‘ole kick in the rear to tell you, “Hey, you’ve gotta make some changes?” Mine certainly has…over and over again because apparently, I haven’t yet learned my lesson.

A beautiful snowy day in California

I’m a recovering Do-It-Yourselfer. However, I’m not the kind of DIYer you’ll find lurking behind rows of paint or stacks of tile at a home improvement store, nor are you likely to find me fixing a leaky faucet or changing light fixtures. I’m a DIYer in the sense that I don’t like asking for help. I want things done my way, and I’ve even conditioned myself to believe that only my way is the way. Plus, somehow I’ve wired it so I feel like I should do things myself. For some reason, before my personal DIY intervention, I believed that unless I did something completely on my own—from beginning to end—I couldn’t take credit for it, or somehow I’d cheated.

There are many steps in my recovery process, and I’m only partially through them, but bit-by-bit, I’m getting there.

For a long time, I had an aversion to hiring people to help me with things like cleaning and yard work. Many years ago, however, I was having a lot of back pain, and my doctor told me I couldn’t do housework. Although I knew scrubbing the bathtub and pushing the vacuum was aggravating the disc bulge in my lower back, I couldn’t quite imagine not cleaning my own home. Plus, I prided myself on being a good housekeeper. I think at one point, I even mentioned it as one of my skills in an online dating profile (I eventually deleted it, when I realized this wasn’t particularly sexy.)

Me with a very large root vegetable I grew all-by-myself

To follow my doctor’s instructions and still have an orderly home, I realized I’d have to get someone to clean for me periodically. I found a flyer at my local natural food co-op, and hired the woman to come every two weeks. The experience was a revelation. It turns out I wasn’t nearly as good at cleaning as I’d thought. Under the magic scrubbing of this woman, my apartment was completely transformed. Who knew that countertops, showers, and toilets could shine so luminously!

Recently, my mom and I spent countless long hours working on our book about the mind-body-spirit connection to what and how we eat. Sometimes we’d get so wrapped up in it that we’d go days upon days without ever leaving the house or even setting foot on the front lawn. Two days before the book was due, guess what…my back went out. It was my body’s way of rebelling and saying, “Hey, get some help. You don’t have to do everything!” As I said, I’m a recovering DIYer, which means occasionally I slip back into my old ways. So, now confined to a recumbent position per doctor’s orders, I got someone to assist me around the house today. Everything looks and feels so much better that I can’t help but wonder how else my life will improve when I let go of control and allow others to help.

Are you like me and sometimes wait until your body yells, “Enough is enough”? It’s not always easy to realize you don’t have to do everything yourself. What actions can you take today to preempt your body from finding its own ways to get you to slow down? Consider taking a luxuriously long bath, making a plan for delegating your work, or maybe even creating a delicious dinner, simply because you deserve it.

Root vegetables from my garden

Comforting Roasted Root Vegetables

As we follow the cycle of life, every season has its own energy. Traditionally, the winter is the time to pull inward and nurture yourself. It’s a time to replenish your strength and take care of your own needs, which might very well mean getting some help with all the things on your “to do” list. In the meantime, what better way to nourish your body and soul than with a warm plate of roasted root vegetables!

Serves 6

1 lb. gold potatoes (skin on), cut into bite-sized pieces
1 lb. carrots, peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces
1 lb. beets, peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces
1 lb. parsnips, peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces
10-15 sage leaves, chopped
1 tsp. sea salt
½ tsp. coarse ground pepper
¼ cup olive oil

Preheat the oven to 450ºF. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

This is a rustic dish; however, the more uniform you can make the size of the vegetables (about ½-1 inch sized pieces), the more evenly they’ll roast.

Wash, peel, and cut the vegetables. Divide the cut vegetables evenly between the two baking sheets. Sprinkle with the sage, salt, and pepper. Drizzle the olive oil over the vegetables and toss together. I find that my hands are the best tools for this.

Put in the oven and roast until the vegetables are cooked through and browned on the outside, about an hour. To help the vegetables brown evenly, I recommend rotating the pans from top to bottom halfway through and stirring the vegetables once or twice while they’re roasting.

Welcome, Dear New Year!

2011-12-29T12:05:00.000-08:00

“Don’t tell anyone or your wish won’t come true.” Have you ever heard this saying?

When I was a young child, every chance I got—birthday candles, shooting stars, and wishing wells—I wished for cherry pie. I never told anyone because I wanted my wish to come true. It was, however, only when I finally fessed up, that I got the cherry pie.

Making my wish for cherry pie

Here’s another confession: I keep a list of potential baby names in a drawer next to my bed, and sometimes when I can’t fall asleep, I plan my wedding. This used to be a secret—a guilty pleasure that I kept to myself—since I’m neither dating nor expecting. I’m learning, however, that the more I share my dreams, even the embarrassing little secrets like these, the more support I get.

As we transition into the New Year, I plan to take more ownership of my dreams, rather than hide them away in a drawer. I want to proudly announce to the world, “This is who I am and this is what I desire,” but at the same time, I want to try to detach from the idea that there’s just one possible version of my life. Dreams can manifest in a myriad of ways. If we’re honest and forthright about what we want, others can’t help but assist us in making our dreams come true. Some things—like the list of baby names—I’ve preferred to keep to myself because I didn’t want to be laughed at or pitied. But, I’m slowly learning that when something brings you joy and when you tell people about it with confidence, they don’t pity or laugh at you.

The New Year is a time for reflection and anticipation of things to come. I’ve been enjoying how different I feel this time around. No more longing. Just contentment. This past summer, I had a meltdown. I was pretty sure that I’d never have the things I desire most. The good thing that came from this, however, was that I realized I’d have to be willing to let my dreams happen in different ways. Rather than doggedly looking for Mr. Right and a storybook romance, followed by a beautiful wedding in wine country, and then a healthy baby, I began to consider other alternatives and different routes to that imagined future.

Additionally, I decided to release my concern for what people would think if I did things a bit differently. It turns out I actually care a lot more about how I appear to others than they care about how I appear to them. I also worried what my conservative grandparents would think if I decided to have a baby on my own. But the truth is, although it might not be their first choice, they’d end up loving the baby.

One of the locations where I've pictured my future wedding

The more I’ve released my firm grip on having my life be a certain way, and the more I’ve been willing to own my secrets and share them with the world, the more content I’ve become. Ever since my midsummer meltdown, I’ve felt more at peace than I have in years. Despite previous attempts, this is the first time it truly feels as though I’ve surrendered to whatever path my life will take. I do still occasionally peek at the list of baby names and imagine dancing by moonlight at my wedding reception, but now it’s more of a before-bed activity much like reading or doing a crossword, rather than a longing pulling at my heart.

As we enter 2012, I’m of course still hoping that this will be the year I fall in love with my forever man, but it doesn’t feel like a necessity. And rather than thinking about giving birth to a real baby, I’m much more focused on my other baby—my cookbook that will be published this year.

What wishes have you been keeping to yourself? What are your dreams, desires, and longings? In what ways can you share them with others? What steps can you take to manifest your dreams—or perhaps some unforeseen version of them—in the New Year?

I wish you the most splendid start to 2012. May this New Year be filled with love, adventure, and of course, good food!

A Champagne Cocktail for the New Year:

Cherry Pie Sparkler

In honor of the cherry pie I wished for as a child, here’s a cocktail to remind us to share our hopes and dreams with others so that they’ll come true. As we transition into the New Year and eagerly anticipate the exciting adventures that await us in 2012, raise a glass. Here’s to welcoming our dreams in whatever manner they manifest themselves!

Makes one delicious cocktail

4 frozen cherries, slightly defrosted
½ tsp. sugar
a pinch of cinnamon
5 oz. sparkling wine

sugar for the rim of the glass
1 cinnamon stick

To frost the glass with sugar: Gently moisten the rim of a Champagne flute with a damp finger. Sprinkle a teaspoon or so of sugar on a small plate. Dip the rim of the glass in the sugar and roll the edges in the sugar until completely frosted.

To make the cocktail: In a small bowl, muddle the cherries with the sugar and cinnamon. With a small spoon, transfer the cherries to the Champagne flute, and top with the sparkling wine. Serve with a cinnamon stick and enjoy!

***Happy New Year!!!***

Do All Roads Lead Here?

2011-12-15T12:32:00.000-08:00

Do you ever have the feeling that you would’ve ended up where you are today regardless of the paths you’ve chosen and the decisions you’ve made?

In the past, I’ve thought of my life as a sinuous trail with forks and offshoots that offer different possibilities for my life. At certain junctures, turning right instead of left or taking the uphill as opposed to the downhill has led me to where I am today. In my mind, my life path has looked like a family tree, continually branching off, each decision leading to another and another.

However, now I’m not so sure that’s how it works.

Sinuous Life Path

I wonder if we actually choose our destiny or if it chooses us. Is it possible that in spite of the choices we make, in some way or another, we eventually end up where we were always meant to be. This idea I’m formulating doesn’t, of course, preclude freewill and choice, it just seems that there are some greater forces at play, like a large magnet that continually pulls us toward a certain life.

The final two lines of “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost—“I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference”—are commonly used to support the idea that taking the unconventional route leads to great things; however, it turns out that in previous lines Frost says something quite different. He writes that in his old age, he will say that it made all the difference, but chances are the paths were pretty similar. Could that really be true? Are the paths we choose between not really as different as we think? Would I have ended up where I am today regardless?

Christmas Ornament from 1982

Me as a Young Girl

While decorating my Christmas tree last week, I made a surprising discovery. In many ways, despite supposed transformations and various life experiences, I’m the exact same person I was as a young child. Every year since I was born my mom has given me a Christmas ornament. Usually she chooses it and wraps it for me to open on Christmas morning. For some reason, when I was five years old, she let me pick out my own ornament. The one I chose was made up of little wooden spoons and a rolling pin. I distinctly remember being at the mall and falling in love with the ornament. My mom tried to convince me to choose one of the prettier ones, but I was adamant. I wanted the cooking one. Was it chance that I would be so attracted to this particular ornament or was it fate?

Often when I look back on my life, I think about the moments that seemed to be turning points, times in my life when another decision would have seemingly sent me in a completely different direction. But I wonder whether or not those moments were really as pivotal as I imagined. Is it inevitable that the interests and passions we possessed as children propel us toward our eventual destiny, despite the detours we take along the way? Throughout my life I’ve done many different things, yet it seems I keep coming back to the very things my five year-old self was drawn to so many years ago.

What are your passions? Did you have these interests as a child? If not, were there things you enjoyed as a child that pushed you in the direction of your current life? Are there parts of your young self that you’ve denied while trying to take the path seemingly less traveled? What steps could you take today to reawaken those latent interests and rekindle that particular destiny?

Tahini Balls

One of my earliest memories involves crawling into the upper kitchen cabinets—with the aid of a chair—and pulling down random ingredients, which I mixed together to make what I called “Tahini Balls.” They were a concoction of tahini, cocoa powder, peanut butter, honey, coconut, and whatever else I could pilfer. Barely old enough to walk or talk, but I was already blending and mixing. The following recipe is my attempt at recreating those tasty treats from my first foray into cooking.

I must mention…I was raised without wheat, dairy, or refined sugar, so these little balls seemed quite decadent to me at the time.

The next time you need a pick-me up, eat a few of these instead of candy or a store bought energy bar!

Makes about 20 nickel-sized balls

1/3 cup creamy peanut butter
2 tbs. tahini
2 tbs. honey
3 tbs. unsweetened cocoa
¼ cup unsweetened shredded coconut

In a small bowl, cream the peanut butter and tahini with the honey and cocoa. Using your palms, roll the mixture into small, nickel-sized balls. Put the coconut on a small plate and roll each ball in the coconut. Chill for a few hours or overnight. This will make them firmer and less sticky.

Affirm the Affirmative

2011-12-01T11:39:00.001-08:00

I’m seeing my chiropractor today, and I’m going to tell a fib.

I’m an honest person, perhaps even to a fault. As a child when my mom would enhance a story for dramatic effect, I was always there to set the record straight. “No, Mom, there weren’t ten geese. There were only eight.” Or, “That’s not right. You paid $5.99, not $6.00.” Truth and details have always been important to me, sometimes annoyingly so.

A few years ago, however, I discovered a secret. Fibbing can bring about remarkable results. The medical profession repeatedly reminds us that to get the best care, we must be honest with our doctors. In some cases, however, honesty isn’t always the best policy.

I thrive on positive reinforcement and recoil from rebuke. When I first moved to Los Angeles, my new physician asked how often I exercised. I’d just started a new job, had a long commute, and was acquainting myself with the Southern California car culture, which meant that unless walking from my office to the break room was what she meant by exercise, I wasn’t getting much. Nor was I taking the vitamin supplements she was urging. I was duly chastised and felt like a schoolgirl being scolded for not doing my homework. After that visit, however, I did not commence an exercise regimen.

Reveling in having conquered the mountain

The next time my doctor asked about my exercise habits, I told her I worked out three to five times a week and did a combination of cardio and weights. It felt so good to be praised that I was inspired to actually make it true. That, combined with the guilt about not telling the truth, was the jumpstart I needed. I reinstated my gym membership, hired a personal trainer, and bought a load of vitamins at the health food store. Had I told her that I’d put my gym membership on permanent “vacation hold” and that after a long day of teaching elementary school, I was too tired to do anything but eat dinner and watch TV, I’m pretty sure I would have been reprimanded and wouldn’t have felt so inspired to start exercising.

On another occasion, a dentist told me I had bad teeth and scared me with stories of gum decay. Rather than this encouraging me to make an even greater effort with my oral hygiene, I felt so discouraged—like the whole situation was hopeless—that I gave up flossing all together. It turns out that this dentist was just trying to find ways to drum up extra business. The next dentist I saw praised my strong teeth and my good habits. Wanting to prove her right, I went home and started flossing religiously and put more thought into how and when I brushed.

When I see my chiropractor this afternoon and he asks if I’ve been keeping up with the stretches and exercises that he recommended, I’m going to tell him that I have, which is mostly true. Seeing him and fibbing a bit will be just the inspiration I need to put even more time and energy into doing the things necessary to keep my body strong, healthy, and pain free.

A photo from my backpacking days

Although positive reinforcement doesn’t work for everyone, in my years as a schoolteacher, I observed that the majority of children do best when encouraged in the affirmative. And it’s the same for adults. For instance, the other day a friend told me that I’m the healthiest person she knows. Unfortunately, the Meadow she knew is a more energetic 20-year old version of myself. Wanting, however, to live up to her view of me, I immediately ate some leafy greens and went for a fast walk up a steep hill.

What motivates you? If you’re like me and are inspired by praise, when giving yourself pep talks or when conversing with friends, clients, or children, try to find ways to laud effort. For most of us, this makes us want to do and be that much better.

Leafy Greens with Green Apple

Leafy greens in my garden this past summer

Wanting to be the person my old friend thinks I am, I’m making an even greater effort to exercise and eat well. Leafy greens are not only full of healthful vitamins and minerals, but also they contain protein and are really tasty too. The Tuscan kale that I planted in my garden last winter continues to grow and grow. I’ve had the opportunity to eat it in soups, salads, and sautéed. This is my current favorite preparation. It’s full of flavor and is a wonderful late autumn dish. I especially like it alongside roasted poultry.

1 bunch kale (approx. 8 oz.), stalks removed and roughly chopped
1 bunch Swiss chard (approx. 8 oz.), roughly chopped (stems included)
1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
5-6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/3 cup cider vinegar
salt (optional)*

Wash the kale and chard. As long as you can cut the greens safely while they’re still damp, don’t worry about drying them. The extra moisture will actually help facilitate the cooking. Remove the fibrous interior rib (stalk) from the kale and then roughly chop the leaves. Chop the chard, including the stem. Place both in a large heavy-bottomed pot. Add the apple and garlic slices. Pour the cider vinegar over the greens and turn to medium heat and cover. Stir occasionally and adjust heat as needed so that the greens braise in their own juices without sticking to the bottom. After about an hour they will be tender and ready for an autumn feast.

*I don’t use salt in this dish since the greens have a natural saltiness to them, but if you want it a bit saltier, add it to taste.

Auditioning the Future

2011-11-16T13:47:00.000-08:00

Dating in your teens and twenties is like eating at an all-you-can-eat buffet, whereas dating in your thirties and beyond is more like getting a sampler plate that’s been passed around the table a few times.

In our teens and twenties, romantic relationships often grow from friendships or from what Carrie Bradshaw calls “zsa zsa zoo.” Dating later in life, however, is a completely different story. Instead of just seeking chemistry and connection, many of us are also auditioning lifestyles. Because, face it, by the time we’re in our thirties, we’ve already made a number of decisions about the direction our life will take, and most likely we won’t change drastically, and neither will the other person. This means that we don’t just date a person, we’re also dating their career, exes, possible children, pets, habits, and interests.

Envisioning a future wedding

It’s no longer just about “hey, he’s good looking” or “he’s so nice.” Choosing whom to spend time with can mean the difference between being with someone who’s married to his job and someone who hasn’t yet found his passion. Or maybe it means spending vacations visiting in-laws when you would’ve been touring Europe if you’d ended up with another guy. Not one of these things is better than another, but each presents a different type of life.

As I navigate the dating world in my thirties, I imagine what my life would be like with each man that I go out with. Although I try not to, the truth is that when I’m dating, I’m looking for someone who could be a potential husband as well as a father to my future children. Dating is no longer just about whether or not you feel an attraction and enjoy each other’s company. It’s also about finding a partner to balance the checkbook and make dinner with you. And it’s about finding someone whose dreams you can support and who will do the same for you.

The advantage of dating in your thirties and beyond is that you have a pretty good idea of what you’d be getting into with each new prospect. Unfortunately, that advantage doesn’t necessarily offset the fact that as the dating pool gets smaller with each passing year, there are increasingly more factors to weigh. You find yourself asking, “What would it be like to be with a musician, a radio show host, a carpenter, a lawyer, a winemaker, or a math professor?” What about someone who’s obsessed with snakes and keeps caged rattlesnakes in his studio apartment, someone who has a two year-old child, or someone from another country who lives here on a work visa? (These are not random hypotheticals. I’ve been out with each of these men.) And then you picture yourself in this scenario and ponder, “Is this life for me?” and “Is this what I want?” And, of course, these men are most likely asking themselves the same questions about you.

Getting ready to go out dancing at 24 years old

I’ve been through the dating trenches and have emerged with a wealth of experience. I’m grateful for this opportunity because it has allowed me to imagine a myriad of possible futures, somewhat like the “Choose Your Own Adventure” books I enjoyed as a kid. The past few months, however, I’ve been taking a break from looking for love in order to allow myself time to reset. When I start dating again, I’m aiming to approach it more like I would've as a 24 year old, rather than the 34 year old that I am.

Whether you’re happily married or looking for love, if you’re like me and find yourself holding auditions for your future, I encourage you to join me and make a pledge to live more in the present and seek joy now rather than planning for future happiness. And who knows, we might just find long-term contentment where and when we least expect it.

Braised Red Cabbage with Apple

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays because it fuses everything that I love into one day: food, friends, and family. It’s about being in the moment and savoring the experience of breaking bread with those that you love. It also reminds us to be grateful for the many blessings that we already have in our lives. On Thanksgiving, rather than pondering my future, my mind will be filled with thoughts of turkey, potatoes, and braised red cabbage. What joy!

This is a good dish for holiday meals. It pairs well with roasted poultry (and for a quick weeknight meal, serve leftovers with German sausage). I especially like how easy it is. Once everything is chopped and in the pot, it needs very little attention, so you’ll be free to do other things.

Serves 4-6

1 tbs. olive oil
1 red onion, sliced (2 cups)
1 tsp. sea salt
1 head of red cabbage (2 lbs.), cored and roughly chopped into 2-in pieces
2 lg. firm apples (1 lb.) such as braeburn or fuji, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
½ cup apple cider vinegar

In a heavy-bottomed 5-quart pot over medium, cook the onion with the olive oil and salt until the onions are soft and translucent. When I’m cooking, I like to have one thing cooking while I prepare the next. So, while you’re sautéing the onions, chop the cabbage and peel and slice the apples. Add the cabbage and apples along with the cider vinegar to the pot, stir. Cover and slow-cook on medium-low for about an hour and a half. Stir occasionally to make sure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan. Cook until the cabbage is soft and tender.

The Gospel of “Should”

2011-11-04T11:09:00.000-07:00

A boyfriend and I once got in a fight over the word “should.” It’s made up of just six innocuous letters, but when they’re strung together into a word, they create a limiting way of approaching the world. But I didn’t realize that then.

At the time of the argument, I was living on a rather remote peninsula on the coast of Maine and teaching French at a small boarding school. This was my first job and as a young teacher (only a few years older than my students) and a natural rule follower, I was keen to do everything just right and present myself in just the right way. I was the queen of “should” and “shouldn’t”… I should act a certain way. I shouldn’t do that.

Walking toward the school dining room for dinner, the nerves welled up inside of me at the thought of introducing Aidan—my boyfriend who was visiting from California—to my students. As we skirted the edge of the quad, he put his arm around me. It was a loving gesture, but it filled me with trepidation. I told him we shouldn’t do that in view of the students. Gently, I removed his arm and we stepped into the community dining room separately.

Aidan with his arm around me

Aidan was not a man who followed the gospel of “should.” At the time, I didn’t understand why he was angry and why he couldn’t understand my point of view. I lived in a small community of students and colleagues, and it was expected that we behave in a certain way. In my head I carried a list of “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” that seemingly helped me set a good example for my students. In hindsight, I wish I’d handled the situation with Aidan differently. It would have been nice to walk with his arm around me.

There are, of course, times when it’s important to do things simply because it’s the right thing. However, there are other times when we make pointless rules for ourselves just because we think it’s what’s expected of us. These rules often don’t allow for expansion, growth, or even fun. For instance, for a long time I wouldn’t let my pets get on my bed. I didn’t really have a good reason, but I felt like it was what I should do to maintain an orderly household. One night, however, I left the bedroom door open and the cats found their way into my bed. It was actually really nice to feel their warm bodies and hear their loud purring. The dog still doesn’t sleep in my bed, but I now ask her up most mornings. I enjoy our morning cuddles, and as it turns out, there isn’t a right or a wrong way to do things.

My cats slumbering on my bed

“Should” sometimes even finds its way into parts of my life where I would least expect it. To wind down in the evening, I play a word game on the Kindle. For many months I toiled endlessly in my quest for the highest level. Sometimes I would work on one level for days and days, just so I wouldn’t have to forfeit. I’d thought that was what I should do. Then suddenly it hit me…I’m playing this game for fun. There will be no prize at the end and no one else will care if I make it to level 10. The only thing I should do is enjoy the experience of playing the game. At that moment, I stopped agonizing about advancing and instead forfeited whenever I was stumped.

Living a life of “should” and “shouldn’t” can be restrictive. It can also keep joy at bay. I’m still a recovering Queen of Should, but I’m getting better one step at a time. Moving past “should” and embracing “fun” can be liberating and can also open up a world of possibilities still yet to be explored.

Apple Custard Cake

As I was thinking about what recipe to include, I immediately thought, “I should write a Thanksgiving recipe,” but I realized that what I really wanted to do was share this recipe for Apple Custard Cake. Recently my kitchen seems to be overflowing with apples, and I’ve been cooking them into this delicious skillet cake as often as I can. The following recipe happens to be gluten and dairy free, but you’d never know it. It serves eight, but I’ve been known to eat half a pan in one sitting.

Serves 8

2½ lbs. (6 or 7 apples) firm apples like Braeburn or Fuji
2 tsp. vegetable shortening
½ tsp. cinnamon
¼ tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp. lemon zest
1 tbs. brandy
1/3 cup granulated sugar
½ cup brown rice flour
1 13-oz can coconut milk (about 1½ cups)
4 eggs

lemon juice
powdered sugar

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Peel, core, and slice the apples. I use an apple slicer/corer and then slice each piece again with a knife to make about 16 slices per apple. Meanwhile, melt the vegetable shortening in a well-seasoned cast iron skillet over medium heat. When the shortening is starting to sizzle, add the apples and sauté. Sprinkle the cinnamon, nutmeg, and lemon zest over the apples and stir to combine. Add the brandy and continue to sauté, stirring frequently. You want the apples to be soft but not browned or mushy.

As the apples cook, combine the sugar and brown rice flour in a medium bowl. Mix the coconut milk and eggs with the sugar and flour and stir until you have a smooth batter. Since rice flour doesn’t contain gluten, you can stir the batter as much as you want and it won’t make a tough pastry. When the apples are soft, turn off the burner. Pour the batter over the apples and place the skillet in the oven. Bake until golden brown and puffy, about 40 minutes. Serve warm with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

Do Unto Others…

2011-10-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

My mom has an ornery rooster whom I named Bogart when he was still a sweet, dapper young chick. Although I outweigh him by well…a lot, and I have opposable thumbs to grasp a stick to shoo him with, he still scares me. When I walk by the chicken coop, he hurls himself against the fence, warning me to keep away from his flock. If I go into the coop to feed the chickens some scraps, I ready my stance, prepared to fight back if necessary. And when he’s free ranging, I give him a wide berth so he will have no reason to chase me down.

My dad and Bogart jostle for position as “top dog.” It’s man’s machismo versus rooster’s, and sometimes it’s a close contest. My mom, on the other hand, doesn’t understand what the fuss is about. She adores Bogart and has never once had an “encounter” with him. She suggested I give up my defensive stance and approach him with love. At first I thought she was nuts. Although I wasn’t ready to show him affection, I did decide to stop being afraid. The most remarkable thing happened, the next time I went into the coop, Bogart didn’t strut, paw at the ground, or try to tackle me. Ever since I changed my approach, he seems to have changed his attitude toward me. Who knew that it would be a chicken that would most clearly illustrate to me, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

Although the Golden Rule is not a new idea, I’m still awed by it. And it’s not just chickens that show that whatever we project is reflected back. Last week while dining at an exquisite restaurant in Washington DC, there was an unexpected interlude between courses that was just as wonderful as the food. The experience reminded me that the more trusting I am, the more others will trust me and vice versa.

My friend, Katie, and I were having dinner at Restaurant Nora, the first certified organic restaurant in America. We decided to go all out and get the 4-course tasting menu. It was a big splurge, but it was my birthday. The manager assured us that if we placed our order quickly, we’d be able to finish in time to make it to the Kennedy Center where we had tickets for the symphony. We put ourselves in his hands and embarked on our feast.

Before we’d even blinked, a warm bowl of sweet and earthy broccoli and apple soup was placed in front of us along with a bottle of wine. Then came a delicate and flavorful crab and avocado salad. Halfway through our entrées (wild mushroom risotto for Katie and grassfed filet mignon and ratatouille for me), Katie noticed that we’d been steamrolling through the meal. Wanting to savor every moment, I tried to prolong the experience by slowing down.

Suddenly, however, it was 20 minutes to eight and we hadn’t yet had dessert. I downed the last bite of my steak, and the waiter whisked my plate away. Within seconds, the manager, Jack, appeared at our side. He told us we should leave. I asked if we could settle our bill first, but he said we needed to hurry. He told us to enjoy the show and come back afterward for dessert and drinks. We could pay then. Katie and I had entrusted him with the task of presenting an elegant four-course meal in less than two hours and as a result of our trust in him, he trusted us to momentarily walk away from a sizeable bill.

True to our word, we hurried back to Nora as soon as the performance ended. We had a delicious dessert, and were even treated to sauternes on the house. We paid our bill and left feeling as though we’d had a magical evening.

How do you want others to perceive you? What traits do you want to project to the world? If you want to feel more love, be more loving. If you want more respect, be more respectful. And if you want people to trust you more, be more trusting. When I saw my actions reflected back to me by the rooster and when I experienced Jack’s trust in us, I had a sudden awareness of what it truly means to follow the Golden Rule.

Broccoli and Apple Soup

Before dining at Restaurant Nora I’d put apples in curried soups, but I’d never thought to pair them with broccoli. What a treat! The apple adds an intoxicating hint of sweetness. I was inspired to create the following recipe to share a bit of Nora with you. This might sound crazy, but I think I like this version even more.

Broccoli soup is generally made with cream; however, when creating this recipe I wanted to try to make it without dairy. In place of cream I’ve added blanched raw almonds, which act to round out the flavors in the way that cream would.

Serves 6 as an appetizer
Serves 4 as an entrée

2 tbs. olive oil
1 yellow onion, diced (1 ½ cups)
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 carrots, chopped (1 cup)
4 stalks of celery, chopped (1 cup)
1 tbs. chopped fresh tarragon (plus more for garnish)
1 bunch of broccoli (3 crowns with stems/1 ½ pounds), cut into chunks
1 lg. Granny Smith apple, peeled and chopped (2 cups)
½ cup dry white wine
4 cups water
½ cup slivered blanched raw almonds
salt
1 tsp. pink peppercorns
crème fraîche for garnish (optional)

Gently warm the olive oil in a 4-quart pot over medium heat. Add the onions and garlic and a pinch of salt* and sauté until the onions are soft and translucent, stirring frequently. While the onions and garlic cook, wash and chop the carrots, celery, and tarragon. Add them to the soup pot along with another pinch of salt, and stir. Meanwhile, break the broccoli florets into bite-size chunks and peel and chop the broccoli stem and the apple. Add the broccoli and apple to the pot along with the wine, water, blanched almonds, and another pinch of salt. Cover and allow to simmer until the vegetables are soft, about an hour. Remove from the heat and purée in small batches in a high-powered blender. Aim for silky smooth. Add more salt as needed. Although the soup can be eaten immediately, the flavor improves after the ingredients have had a chance to marry. Either let the soup sit for 30 minutes before eating or make ahead and enjoy the following day. Garnish with a sprig of fresh tarragon and a sprinkle of pink peppercorns. A dollop of crème fraîche can also be added for extra richness and a delicious tang.

*Add a small pinch of salt as each batch of ingredients is added. This helps to layer the flavors. Add more as needed once the soup has been puréed.

The Infamous “If-Then Statement"

2011-10-06T18:48:00.000-07:00

I frequently find myself turning my life into what they call in mathematics an “if-then statement.” If I have this, then I can do that. Unfortunately, however, life doesn’t always work that way. What if you can’t make the “if” part of the statement true? The second thing can’t follow, and instead you sit around waiting. I’m realizing that sometimes it’s worth just jumping ahead to the “then” part and savoring that experience regardless of whether or not it meets your original expectations.

Throughout my teens and twenties one of my favorite books was Samuel Beckett’s play, Waiting for Godot. I read it numerous times and even taught it to my advanced students when I was a French teacher. I suppose I kept reading and rereading the text because I wasn’t getting the message. It’s one thing to understand something intellectually, but it’s quite another to actually incorporate the lessons into your life. The play paints a desolate picture of two men who wait endlessly. Everything they do and every thought they have is focused on Godot’s imminent arrival. Nothing really happens because they’re too busy anticipating the future. And guess what? Godot never comes. What if instead of concentrating on “if he comes, then…,” they had taken it upon themselves to do something and make their own destiny?

There are—as I’ve written before—things in my life that I’ve put off while hoping for my fairytale ending. Sometimes, however, it’s not even big things. For instance, I’ve been thinking about joining a wine club. For a set fee, specially chosen wines are sent to you automatically either monthly or quarterly. In the back of my mind, though, I have to quell the nagging voice that says, Wait and do this when you’re married. There are also smaller things that get put off in anticipation of the “perfect” moment and have nothing to do with the fairytale ending. As crazy as it might sound, I’ve been saving a handful of embroidered dishtowels for five years because they seem too pretty to use. I’ve also been known to keep special dishes, foods, or wines for ages waiting for just the right occasion, which inevitably never seems to come. All of this is actually rather silly. Why not enjoy stuff now?

Mostly, however, I find myself putting off doing things because I don’t want to do them alone. Last weekend, for instance, I wanted to go apple picking but thought that it would be more fun to do with someone else. When I couldn’t find a friend to join me, I decided to go by myself, leaping over the “if” and going right to the “then.” I took my dog, Molly, and found an organic U-Pick apple farm nearby.

Notice my arm reflected in my sunglasses

The people at the apple farm were so friendly that they waved when my car pulled up. When I arrived at their check-in area, they gave Molly a bowl of water and handed me a basket for collecting apples. I ended up having the most splendid day. Molly was so excited to have free reign of the orchard that she actually pranced. I ate loads of crisp, delicious fruit straight from the tree and filled two enormous baskets with beautiful apples of all shapes, colors, and sizes. When I started to feel disappointed that there wasn’t anyone to take a photo of me enjoying this blissful day, I realized I could do that for myself too. I stretched out my arm, pointed the camera at my face, and smiled.

It turned out that I didn’t need to share the experience with anyone else. Molly was good company and because I was alone, I was able to really take in my surroundings and luxuriate in the day. It made me wonder how many experiences in my life I’ve missed out on while waiting for the “right” moment. Here’s to getting rid of the “if-then statement” and just going for it!

Autumn Harvest Salad

Having picked over 20 pounds of apples last weekend, I’ve been enjoying eating them in a multitude of ways. I’ve made applesauce and a few crisps, but I’m especially excited about this salad. The combination of autumn ingredients is the perfect balance of salty, sweet, sour, and savory. You won’t want to stop eating this salad. It’s that good!

Serves 6

Salad:
1-6 oz. bag of baby spinach
1 cup very thinly sliced red onion (from half and onion)
½ cup dried cranberries
1 cup raw walnut halves
1 apple cored and thinly sliced apple (such as braeburn, which is sweet-tart and firm)
6 oz. crumbled blue cheese (about one cup)

Dressing:
Extra virgin olive oil
Aged balsamic vinegar
Salt and cracked black pepper

Toss the spinach with the red onion, cranberries, and walnuts. Add the apples and blue cheese and toss to combine. Dress with a simple vinaigrette made from extra virgin olive oil, aged balsamic vinegar, salt, and cracked pepper.

From “To Do” to “To Done”

2011-09-20T07:38:00.000-07:00

Blessings come in many disguises. Last week I fell inexplicably ill. I’d been working long hours and spending a great deal of time at my computer while juggling a number of projects that pulled me in many directions at once. I started to have dizzy spells and see strange geometric patterns in my periphery vision. At one point I even fell over because the ground beneath me seemed so unsteady, and waves of nausea rolled over me sporadically.

It turns out I was having an intense migraine aura headache. Unable to walk without the possibility of toppling over was scary and not being able to do anything on my “to do” list was frustrating. Once I learned what was making me feel so poorly, however, I was able to take action both in healing myself and in finding a strategy to cross stuff off the aforementioned “to do” list.

Thinking hard

This experience reminded me of a valuable lesson. Not everything we think we have to do is necessary or essential. It’s easy to get caught up in the details and forget the big picture. It’s also easy to spend too much time on the things that seem important while overlooking the things that are important.

As a result of feeling sick, I wasn’t going to be able to do everything in the way that I‘d planned. My doctor had suggested I take a break from the computer, which seemed impossible since nearly everything I had to do was online, but the word “prioritize” kept popping into my head. I don’t easily give up control. No way! But I realized that in order to get from point A to point B, I was going to have to adjust my plan, and I would need to ask for help. Most things, it turns out, can be postponed, ignored, or done by someone else. The few things that didn’t fall into those three categories, I had to do, but at least by then my list was much shorter.

Years ago my mom taught me a game called, “What’s the Worst That Could Happen?” When you’re nervous or stressed about something, think of the worst possible scenario. Usually the worst that could happen isn’t actually that bad. What would be the worst that would happen if I didn’t respond to all the e-mail in my inbox? What if I didn’t put the trash out for collection? I had plans to go to a gala and what if I didn’t get a pedicure and everyone saw my chipped nail polish? What if I didn’t clean my chicken coop? What if I postponed some of my work until later? Playing the “What’s the Worst That Could Happen?” game was a useful tool in prioritizing and organizing my “to do” list.

I ended up doing all the essential office and housework and devised strategies for the rest. Suddenly, I realized that a lot of what had taken on such significance in my mind wasn’t quite as important as I had imagined. The blessing was that I was reminded to slow down, take a deep breath, and prioritize.

What in your life can you delete from your “to do” list? What can you postpone? And what can you ask or hire someone else to do?

Mango Salsa

No matter what’s going on in my life, whether I’m feeling sick, sad, stressed, or over-the-moon happy, I always try to make time to treat myself to good food prepared with love and fresh ingredients. I make eating well a priority, and it almost always trumps anything else on my “to do” list.

Tomatoes are at their peak right now. This is a great time to make fresh salsa and stretch out summer a tad bit longer. This salsa recipe is so easy that it will be “to done” before you know it. Put it on a warm corn tortilla with lettuce and sautéed wild shrimp and you have a quick, healthy, and delicious dinner.

2 cups diced mango (from one large mango)*
2 cups diced Roma tomatoes, seeds removed (from about 5 tomatoes)
1 cup chopped white onion (from ½ a large onion)
¾ finely diced cilantro (from one bunch)
1 Serrano pepper finely diced (optional)**
3 tbs. fresh lime juice (from 2-4 limes depending on their juiciness)
salt

*If you can’t find mango, substitute peaches (peel them first). Delicious late harvest peaches are still available.
**Serrano peppers are spicy. Add the pepper bit by bit until you reach your desired spiciness. I like spice, so I usually add the whole pepper, which is about 1 tbs.

In a medium sized bowl, combine the mango, tomatoes, onion, cilantro, and Serrano pepper. Toss with the lime juice and salt, and enjoy! This salsa is so good, I often eat it with a spoon like soup, but it’s also great with tortilla chips, fish tacos, or anything else you can dream of.

Mango salsa with wild shrimp, black bean purée, and romaine lettuce

Mango salsa with cumin-scented charbroiled steak

The Things I Will Never Do or Be

2011-09-12T07:23:00.000-07:00

Yes! Yes! Me! I want to audition!

Those were the words than rang in my head after watching an advertisement for a casting call for America’s Got Talent. For a brief moment I thought about what I might do on the show, but then realized that I don’t have that kind of talent. When I started to lament my lack of singing and dancing abilities, I stopped myself. Although I’m not particularly gifted in that way, I’ve also made choices that took me in another direction. Plus, I have other skills.

A famous staircase at my college

The first time I was keenly aware that, in fact, I couldn’t be and do just anything was during my freshman year of college. While standing on the field where I played Junior Varsity field hockey, it suddenly struck me that I’d never be in the Olympics. It had never been a dream of mine nor did I have the athletic ability for this to have been a possibility, but in many ways this was a transformative moment. Although much of my future was yet to be determined, I realized that much had already been decided.

We like to think that “the world is our oyster” and that with enough fortitude and determination anything is possible. Yet, that’s not actually true. The truth is that we’re constantly making decisions about our lives and as we do so, some doors close. But this also makes room for other doors to open.

I will never be an astronaut, a famous actress, or a nomadic surfer looking for the next great wave. I have no desire to tumble around in space (I get motion sickness much too easily); I enjoyed acting when I was younger but was too dramatic to ever be very good; and I’m now at a point in my life where I crave stability (plus, I don’t really like having my head pommeled under water as seems to happen a lot in surfing).

My Ameraucana hens, Marigold and Sapphire

Although many doors have closed, others have opened in wondrous ways that I may never have even dreamed of. If you’d asked my college freshman self if I thought I’d be living in a small town in California and raising chickens (and loving it), I would have thought you were crazy. We don’t always know the path our life will take, and that’s part of what makes it so much fun.

What are your talents and skills? In what ways has your life taken unexpected turns based on the choices you’ve made? When my family gives me a hard time for not being able to do DIY projects around the house, I remind myself that although I don’t have those particular skills, I have many others that are equally useful and creative. What can you do that no one else can? The next time you notice doors closing in your life, remember that they’re closing to make room for new adventures and opportunities.

Long Beans with Garlic

My greatest talent probably is my ability to eat. I love food and I love eating! As a result, I learned how to cook and how to grow my favorite fruits and vegetables, which in many ways has shaped my destiny. Food has opened many doors for me over the years.

I love finding unusual heirlooms and vibrantly colored vegetables to grow. One of my best discoveries has been the Chinese Red Noodle long bean. On the vine it’s bright red but when cooked turns a lovely shade of purple. It’s similar in taste to a traditional green long bean.

This is one of my favorite recipes, and I make it every other day when my vines are producing. Long beans can be purchased in Asian grocery stores, farmers’ markets, and in most well stocked supermarkets. Although mine are red, most are green. They look like very long green beans. If you can’t find long beans, substitute string beans. To bulk up this dish, add ground pork, ground chicken, or crumbled organic firm tofu.

Serves 4

1 ½ lbs. long beans, trimmed and cut into 2 in. pieces (about 6 cups)
1 small onion or ½ lg. one, sliced (about 2 cups)*
5 – 10 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced**
2 tbs. canola or vegetable oil
1/3 cup tamari***
3 tbs. brown sugar
2 tsp. toasted sesame oil
(optional: spice it up with red chili flakes or Vietnamese garlic chili paste)

*I use whatever I have on hand. Red, yellow, and white onions are all equally delicious.
**I like a lot of garlic. The amount you use will depend on your personal taste and on the potency of your garlic.
***I use tamari because it’s gluten-free; however, soy sauce can be substituted. Soy sauce, however, is saltier and not quite as flavorful as tamari, so you may need to adjust the quantities.

Wash and cut the beans. Slice the onions and garlic. Heat the oil in a wok or large frying pan (I use a cast iron skillet) over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot (don’t let it smoke), add the long beans, onion, and garlic. Stir frequently to keep the garlic from burning. Adjust the temperature as necessary. When the vegetables are tender but not quite fully cooked (about 5 minutes), add the tamari, brown sugar, sesame oil, and chili flakes (if using). Continue to stirfry until the beans are fully cooked and the onions are soft, about 5 more minutes. Serve with rice.

Letting the Dream Die

2011-08-28T18:59:00.000-07:00

Langston Hughes wrote, “Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” This was one of my favorite poems when I was in high school, but now I’m not so sure that I believe it anymore. I’m starting to think that sometimes you have to let dreams die. Only then will there be room for new dreams. The new dreams might not necessarily be better than the old ones; rather, they’re a more likely or more attainable version. I’ve held onto the same dream of my life for so long that I actually feel a bit like the broken-winged bird that cannot fly. I can’t envision any other possible scenario for my life, yet I don’t seem able to get there no matter how hard I try. The more I struggle, the more painful it becomes.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to fall in love, get married, and have a family. When I was little, my best friend and I used to stage weddings. We would take turns being the bride. My imaginary groom rotated between Perry Mason and Michael Landon, one of whom is fictional but I don’t think that was of much consequence to me at the time, never mind that he was probably twice the age of my parents and not particularly attractive in his later years.

Blowing bubbles with a friend's daughter

Having a family has always been really important to me. I love children and have always pictured myself as a mother. When I was a kid I convinced my friends to stuff our shirts full of teddy bears and pretend we were pregnant. We even went as far as to give birth to the toys, complete with grunting and screaming, which took my mom by surprise when she walked in on us one day.

In later years, I spent many warm afternoons swinging in the hammock underneath a large oak tree at my parents’ ranch picturing every detail of the wedding I would have in that exact spot. And to make long car trips go by a bit faster, I passed many hours thinking of possible names for my yet unborn children.

The oak, under which I imagined my wedding, collapsed last week

Over the past decade or so, I’ve put a lot of time and energy into dating and finding the right man. I’ve had memberships at all of the leading online dating sites and even a few of the smaller ones, joined clubs and singles’ groups, and even at one point tried a matchmaker. In addition, I’ve talked to God, made collages of my desired life, and written in my journal as though the future were already a reality. I’ve even consulted astrologers and intuitives. Despite a few wonderful potential mates and some near misses, I’m now in my thirties and still single.

A few days ago it felt as though my entire world was crashing in around me. One too many potential loves fell through, and I realized how tired I was. Every part of my body felt heavy, fatigued, and worn down both physically and emotionally. I couldn’t continue this way. It was too painful and too exhausting. I’ve held so firmly to the dream of dating, wedding, and then baby that my vision has become myopic. Although I’m not willing to completely give up on the dream, I’ve also started to see that there may be other routes to my envisioned life. By surrendering my need to have my life follow a traditional path and do everything in a particular order, I’m opening myself to other possibilities.

We’re blessed to live in a time and society where we have the freedom to meet men in many different ways, have children and make families in various manners, and do things out of order if that’s the way it happens. Although allowing the dream to die is extremely painful—and I have to admit I’ve been pretty weepy all week—I’m also realizing that it’s not necessary to hold fast to one particular vision of ourselves. Who knows what direction my life will end up taking, but I do feel relieved realizing that there are actually many routes to happiness and many ways to making dreams come true.

Are there dreams in your life that are dragging you down rather than exhilarating you? Perhaps the time has come to release them. Be willing to allow the bountiful possibilities of new and yet unexplored dreams to fill your life. Is there another way to attain the same happiness that you so desire? Here’s to dreams coming true even if they come in a slightly different package than we had originally planned!

A safflower field my mom and I drove by on our way to the coast

Chicken Curry Salad

When I was feeling blue earlier this week, my mom decided I needed a change of scenery. She drove me to the coast where we had lunch at one of our favorite restaurants and then we collected pretty pebbles on the beach, letting the salt air wash away my anguish. At lunch I ordered chicken curry salad, which is one of my comfort foods. The one at the restaurant was good, but I like this one even better.

Serves 6

1 cup sliced celery
½ cup diced red onion
1 cup chopped raw walnuts*
½ cup yellow raisins
2 ½ cups diced cooked chicken**
4 tsps. curry powder
½ tsp. sea salt
¾ cup mayonnaise***

*I love walnuts, but raw cashews, pecans, or sliced almonds could be used instead.
**I use leftover roasted chicken.
***Strained Greek yogurt can be substituted for the mayonnaise.

Combine the celery, onion, walnuts, raisins, and chicken in a large bowl. Toss with the curry powder and salt, and then mix with the mayonnaise. Let it sit for 15 minutes or so before serving to give the flavors time to mellow and marry with one another. Enjoy with a green salad or on a French baguette.

Good Riddance to “If Only…”

2011-08-13T09:54:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, I’m a card-carrying member of the “If Only” club, but I’m working to change that.

Recently I went camping with friends at Yosemite National Park. We climbed mountains, explored meadows, and ate our way through the piles of food that we carefully stored in the bear locker each night.

As I was heading home, however, I decided on a whim to stop at a vista to take one final photograph. I pulled off the road and wedged my car into the last spot available. Thinking that I could make room for another car, I attempted to reverse but heard a terrible scraping sound. I put my brand-spanking new Subaru Outback in park, and with a tightness working itself around my heart, hopped out to inspect. When I saw the huge gouges and the busted fog light, I admit that a few loud expletives escaped my mouth.

Doing my best to keep my lip from quivering, I found a nearby tourist to help me dislodge my car from the rock I had scraped. Like rapid-fire, I spewed the story to him, but it turned out he didn’t speak English. Nevertheless, he agreed to help me. Once free of the rock, I hightailed it out of Yosemite.

I spent the next six hours of the drive home playing the “If Only” game. If only I hadn’t stopped at that particular viewpoint… If only I had followed my intuition and stayed on the road rather than trying to get a photo of Half Dome… If only I hadn’t been trying to leave a space for another car… If only my friends—just the day before—hadn’t been badmouthing people who seemingly take up too much room in parking lots… If only I had seen the rock… If only I hadn’t gone camping… If only… The list goes on and on. I wanted to blame someone or something and make it their fault. I wanted them to be responsible.

But the truth is: I hit a rock and my new car got dented and scratched. Playing the “If Only” game didn’t serve me. It wouldn’t fix my car or make me feel any better about the situation. What’s done was done, and I needed to move on.

Until that moment, I’d never realized how attached I was to the “if onlys” and how overwhelming my desire was to pin blame on someone or something else. Though it took many hours, I eventually realized that I could either continue to stew and let the accident take over my thoughts and perhaps even cloud the wonderful memories I’d made camping, or I could let it go.

I decided that I didn’t want this unfortunate incident to overshadow the smell of cedar smoke from the campfire, the wind on my face at the top of Lembert Dome, the crystalline water flowing in Tuolomne Meadows, or all of the delicious meals I shared with good friends, which included my perennial favorite treat of juicy red watermelon with fresh mint.

While I’m still sad about my car, and though repairs won’t be cheap, it can be fixed. The memories I want to savor are the ones that fill me with joy. From this point forward, I’m going to ditch “if only” and embrace “now what.” Asking the question, “now what?” will help me focus on positive actions that can be taken rather than looking backward and wishing things were different.

If, like me, you’ve been a card-carrying member of the “If Only” club, I encourage you to join me in accepting what is and move on. Here’s to ditching “if only”!

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Watermelon with Mint

This is a recipe-less recipe, but those are some of my favorite kinds of recipes! There’s something about the mint that seems to bring out the natural sweetness in watermelon.

Combine watermelon (either cut into bite-sized pieces or scooped into spheres with a melon baller) with chopped fresh mint. Enjoy with your fingers or with a fork. This is a great fruit salad for picnics and camping.

If you want to turn it up a notch, add rum and make it into a delicious watermelon boozy slushy.

Makes 2 large drinks
or 4 small ones

2 cups cut watermelon
2 tbs. chopped fresh mint
1 tbs. sugar
¼ cup (2 oz.) rum
2 cups ice

Use a blender on the highest setting until the ice is slushy.

This makes a refreshing and light summer cocktail. These quantities are guidelines. Try adding more rum and watermelon to intensify the flavor (and the kick!).

Growing Pride: Recipe for Asian Zucchini Pancakes

2011-07-29T09:01:00.000-07:00

My best friend’s mom strolled into her kitchen, her cheeks smudged with soil and her mouth curved into a contagious grin. Delicately cradled in her sun-bronzed and freckled arms was one of the largest zucchinis I had ever seen. We eagerly scurried to her, our bare feet making tapping sounds on the stained, brown linoleum. Alice, my friend’s mother, had decided to take up gardening that summer. Tall, dark trees surrounded her yard, allowing in very little sunlight. But, Alice had somehow managed to get permission from the City of Seattle to commandeer a neglected a plot of public land. She was never short on energy or ideas and spent many long afternoons digging and hoeing until eventually she had made a vegetable garden in that abandoned bit of dirt. By midsummer, the plants were green and robust and putting out their first fruits. My friend and I cooed over her massive squash and agreed with her that it certainly was large enough to win a ribbon at a county fair, though secretly, even at that age, I knew that big didn’t mean better when it came to zucchini.

My dad pretending one of his non "football" zucchinis is a cigar

Since I was old enough to leave home without getting overly homesick, I had spent a few weeks each summer in California with my grandparents. The highlight was hanging out with my grandpa in his garden. From him I learned to plant corn in a rectangle so that it would pollinate properly and to water fruit trees at the drip line, which is where the roots are. But I also learned to revile large squash. Whenever he would find an overripe zucchini, as though affronted by its mere existence, he would rip it from the vine and slam-dunk it into the compost bin. He called them “footballs” and when I had wanted to save some of them, he told me that they were stringy and full of seeds and not worth my time.

I’m grateful to my grandfather since my love for vegetable gardens and a great deal of what I know about gardening, I gleaned from our summers together. However, Alice’s absolute delight at what she could reap—even if not of prime culinary quality—from a few small seeds planted in a patch of destitute earth has inspired me over the years. To her that massive and overripe, seed-filled zucchini was the ultimate reward for the hard work and love she put into the earth, and it didn’t matter to her that it wasn’t the best tasting zucchini.

After years of growing my own summer squash and cooking professionally, I tend to be more like my grandpa when it comes to deciding which specimens to keep and which to compost. However, like Alice, I jump up and down every time I find a delicious vegetable in my garden and swell with pride.

Often the effort we put into something has a direct correlation with our satisfaction. If you are a picky eater or if you have children who won’t touch a vegetable with a ten-foot pole, grow a vegetable garden. It sounds like a crazy idea, but you may discover a latent penchant for kale, tomatoes, or zucchini as a result of the love and time that you put into your little patch of earth. Regardless of whether you grow tender young zucchini or leave them on the vine until they’re large and full of seeds, there is power in growing your own food, be it a small pot of mint on your kitchen counter or an acre of vegetables. I’m constantly in awe of nature’s majesty when I see what one tiny seed can become.

What other things in your life might you perceive differently if you spent time tending to them and nurturing them?

Asian Zucchini Pancakes

Anyone who has ever had a vegetable garden knows how zucchini and other summer squash can pretty much take over your life during the later summer months. Luckily, there are so many delicious ways to eat zucchini and enjoy its bounty. This is one of my very favorite recipes for zucchini. It’s so good that you might even wish you had more zucchini!

Dipping Sauce
makes 1 cup

3 tbs. sugar
1/3 cup tamari
¼ cup seasoned rice vinegar
1 tbs. mirin
1 tsp. toasted sesame oil
¼ cup water
2 - 3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tbs. black sesame seeds
1 bunch of scallions, thinly sliced (use only the white part)
1 tsp. red chili flakes (optional)

Zucchini Pancakes
makes 10 pancakes

6 cups grated zucchini (from 3 to 4 large zucchini)
3/4 cup grated sweet yellow onion (from 1 small onion)
2 inch piece of ginger, peeled
5 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup sweet rice flour*
vegetable oil for cooking the pancakes

*Sweet rice flour is made from glutinous (sticky) rice, but it isn’t sweet and doesn’t contain gluten. It has a fine texture and is often used as a thickener. It can be purchased in Asian grocery stores, natural food stores, or online.

In a small bowl combine the sugar, tamari, rice vinegar, sesame oil, and water. Mix in the garlic, sesame seeds, sliced scallions, and chili flakes. Set aside.

Using a food processor fitted with a shredding disc, grate the zucchini. To remove the excess liquid from the zucchini, bundle it in a clean dishtowel and squeeze. This is best done in multiple batches. Since this can be messy, do it over the sink. Put the dry zucchini in a large bowl. Grate the onion and ginger in the food processor and toss with the zucchini. Mix the zucchini and onion with the egg and sweet rice flour until fully combined. Heat a generous splash of vegetable oil on medium high on a griddle (about 400˚F on an electric griddle). With a large spoon, scoop about ½ cup of batter and flatten into a pancake on the hot griddle. Cook each side until golden brown and crispy (2-3 minutes per side). Add more oil and repeat.

Making Room for the Future: Recipe for All-American Potato Salad

2011-07-13T10:51:00.000-07:00

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, but I’m going to confess something that hardly anyone knows about me. My mom, my dad, and a few others have discreetly kept the secret that I’ve successfully hidden from friends, family, and boyfriends for years, but now I’m going to blow the covers off the whole thing. Hidden on my bed, under a pile of down pillows, designer pillow shams, and decorative throws, a well-loved and well-worn Gund sunbear hibernates each day until I crawl into bed at night and hug him tight. I am 33 years old, have a Masters degree from an Ivy League school, and own my own business, but…I sleep with a teddy bear.

This much-loved member of my family has traveled the world and has seen me through most of my life. Sweets, as he is fondly known, has slept with me nearly every night since my seventh birthday when I received him as a gift.

I’m a strong, independent woman, yet I sleep with a teddy bear. I am confident and frequently courageous and no longer need the security that he may have once provided me as a little girl, but sleeping with him has become a habit that I haven’t been willing to outgrow.

And unfortunately, the older we get, the more set in our ways we are. I generally fall asleep quickly, but…Sweets must be underneath my right arm.

The other day I was thinking about this and how with each passing year, I become increasingly accustomed to a specific routine, and the more challenging it is to open myself to change. I dream of meeting a wonderful man and starting a family. It’s easy to say, “I want. I want. I want.” But the truth is that people and opportunities only come to us when we make room for them in our lives.

One corner of my garage

In an effort to make myself more available to life’s possibilities, I’ve been going on a clutter-clearing binge. By making more physical room in my life, I’m hoping that in turn I’ll be making more spiritual and emotional room.

There was a whirlwind of dust and cobwebs as I pulled boxes from my garage. Among other things, I found a deflated leather volleyball that has moved with me across the country and back multiple times. I stopped playing volleyball when I was 17, half my lifetime ago. Yet I’ve held onto this ball, perhaps erroneously believing that one day I would once again be that teenage girl who made up cheers and ran laps with her team. I also found a pair of cleats (haven’t played lacrosse since I was a sophomore in college), two pairs of ski pants that I’ve long since outgrown, and piles of slides, negatives, and prints from my days as a photographer. The artwork I will keep, but what is it about the other things that I haven’t been able to release?

At first I saved the volleyball because it had been expensive, and I assumed I would one day play again, but after awhile I think it was more out of habit. I dream of the future, yet here I am holding so tightly to the past. Is it that I’m yearning for the endless possibilities of my youth, the idea that I could do anything and be anything? Or is it like sleeping with my teddy bear, and I just don’t know any different?

1995 Varsity volleyball yearbook photo (I'm #15 top left)

I had actually forgotten about the deflated volleyball in my garage, which made me wonder what other stuff—both physical and emotional—we carry with us from place to place, without even being aware of its existence.

I can say, “I want,” a million times but until I make room in my life, how can I expect there to be space for new people and opportunities? I’m not yet willing to release my old friend, Sweets the sunbear; however, the cleats, the ski pants, the volleyball, and a whole host of other objects that have been gathering dust for years are on their way to Goodwill. There is wisdom in the adage, “Out with the old, in with the new.” New doors are opening and I will step through them lighter and freer.

What in your life have you been holding onto? What could you release today? What steps can you take to make room for new opportunities and embrace your future with open arms?

Here’s to abounding possibilities!

As we welcome the future, may we smile like this dragonfly!

Meadow’s All-American Potato Salad

As I move forward into my future and discard the things that no longer support who I am today, there are, however, many things from my past that I will carry with me. The recipe for my signature potato salad is certainly one of those things. I’ve been making this dish longer than anything else. It had its debut around the time that I played volleyball, and I’ve been making it the same way ever since. The secret is marinating finely diced onions in the pickle juice. What summer picnic is complete without potato salad?!

serves 8-10

3 lbs. gold potatoes, boiled and cut into bite-size pieces
6 large eggs, hardboiled and cut into bite-size pieces
½ cup yellow onion, finely diced
¼ cup dill pickle juice
1 cup dill pickles, chopped
a scant ¼ cup mild Dijon mustard (like Grey Poupon)
½ cup mayonnaise (plus a bit more if the potatoes are dry)
freshly ground black pepper

Boil the potatoes (skin on) in a large pot until tender but not mushy, about 20 minutes for small potatoes. In a small pot, boil the eggs until hardboiled. While the eggs and potatoes are cooking, dice the onion. Combine the onion and the pickle juice in a large bowl and allow to marinate while you cut the pickles. Add the pickles to the onions. Drain and rinse the potatoes and eggs. Chop the potatoes and peel and chop the eggs. Combine with the onions and pickles. Add the mustard, mayonnaise, and black pepper. Stir. Enjoy.

With Instead of Without

2011-07-02T13:26:00.000-07:00

Increasingly, it seems, food is described not as “delicious,” “scrumptious,” “delectable,” or any other mouthwatering superlatives like “ooey gooey” and “decadent” that make you want to sink your teeth in and allow your taste buds to do a little dance, but instead it’s labeled as “gluten-free,” “dairy-free,” “sugar-free,” “fat-free,” “meat-free,” or “vegan” (free of all animal products), just to name a few. Being that I’ve been on a gluten and dairy-free diet for the past seven months, many of these labels have been indispensable; however, it seems that sometimes we get so caught up in what a certain dish does not have that we forget about what’s equally crucial…what it does have.

Harvesting carrots in the July heat

There is a great cooking and lifestyle magazine for people living with food allergies and sensitivities called, “Living Without.” The title is clear and to the point, yet isn’t it possible to exclude certain foods from your diet for either health, religious, or ethical reasons and live with instead of without?

Someone asked me a while ago if I had many vegan recipes in my blog. My immediate response was “no.” When you eat a salad, for instance, do you think of it as vegan? Are carrots sugar-free? When you have roasted potatoes with grilled fish, do you think, Yum, I’m having a gluten-free dinner!? I don’t actually think of the Savor the Day recipes as “vegetarian,” “vegan,” or necessarily even gluten or dairy-free since most of the time I’m just trying to create something with the ingredients available to me at the time. Yet, after perusing my blog archives, I discovered that a fair number of the recipes are indeed vegetarian or even vegan and of course, many of late are gluten and dairy-free.

Water droplets on freshly picked kale from my garden

Despite massive improvements in the “meat-free” culinary world, when I hear the word “vegetarian,” I still picture the vegetarian food from my youth: alfalfa sprouts galore, lots and lots of beans, and heavy and dense whole wheat pizza laden in cheese and mushy brown broccoli. The word “vegan” recalls bizarre tasting baked goods passing themselves off as brownies, while “sugar-free” makes my mouth pucker with the bitter aftertaste of artificial sweeteners. Of course, these words don’t actually connote these things, but unfortunately, associations made at an impressionable age are not easily changed. I’ve had some amazing cakes and cookies in the ensuing years made without wheat, dairy, or sugar. And there are so many scrumptious meat-free foods that we eat daily and don’t even know we’re eating “vegetarian.” I love vegetarian, vegan, raw, gluten-free, dairy-free, and sugar-free foods, but I prefer them without the label and like it when they’re good because they’re good and not because they’re made without such and such.

The robust patch of kale

This year I have a robust patch of kale growing in my garden. I’ve been experimenting with different ways to prepare it, and I’ve finally created a salad that’s so good I find myself eating it by the bowlful. It’s healthy. It’s raw. It’s vegan. It’s dairy-free. It’s gluten-free. It’s sugar-free. And probably free of a whole host of other things as well, but I’d rather just call it a Delicious Garden Salad because the ingredients come straight from my garden, and it is indeed quite delicious.

Yes, it’s healthy and probably looks a bit like it came from the menu of a hippie restaurant or the deli at a natural foods store, but it’s deceptively tasty. Even my dad ate it with gusto when I served it to him alongside barbecued ribs for Fathers’ Day.

Delicious Garden Salad

with dinosaur kale, beetroot, and carrots

serves 4

1 bunch of kale*, ribs removed and thinly sliced (about 4 cups)
2 carrots, peeled and grated (about 1 cup)
1 beet, peeled and grated (about 1 cup)
½ cup raw sunflower seeds
½ cup raisins, chopped
¼ cup + 1 tbs. extra virgin olive oil
¼ cup apple cider vinegar
2 tsp. tamari

To remove the rib/stalk from washed kale, start from the bottom and run your thumb and index finger along the stalk. To slice the kale into a chiffonade, stack the leaves one on top of the other, roll them width-wise into a long cylinder, and then make thin slices crosswise. (Do not attempt expedite the process by grating the leaves in a food processor. I tried and had disastrous results.)

Pull the leaf from the stalk with your thumb and index finger

Stack the leaves on top of one another

Roll the stacked leaves into a long cylinder

Using a sharp knife cut them into thin ribbons

Thinly sliced kale and the removed stalks/ribs

In a large bowl, combine the sliced kale and grated carrots and beets with the sunflower seeds and chopped raisins. Drizzle with the olive oil and then, with your hands, massage the olive oil into the kale. This will make the kale more tender and succulent. Mix in the vinegar and tamari. Enjoy!

*I use cavalo nero (also called dinosaur kale, Tuscan kale, and lacinato), but the curly variety will work too.

I Choose Me

2011-06-17T10:31:00.000-07:00

Would you trade places with any of your friends? What about an acquaintance or someone you’ve seen on television?

I recently attended my 15th high school reunion. As the festivities were coming to an end, after the “hellos”, “how have you beens”, and “what are you doing nows,” a couple of us were left at a bar, nursing the last few sips of local wine and frosty microbrews and reflecting on the encounters of the previous few days.

One of the men at the table asked if we would change places with any of the people we’d reconnected with at the reunion. It’s an interesting question. Doctors, lawyers, business owners, humanitarians, teachers, and mothers abounded. If you could wave a magic wand and swap places with someone, would you do it?

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to answer. Without missing a beat, balancing on our barstools and pondering our life choices, we each countered with a resounding “no.”

This response, surely, was not born out of a sense of superiority or an over inflated sense of our own accomplishments. Many of our former classmates lead fulfilling lives and have had amazing adventures and a great deal of success in the years since high school. Yet, even though I don’t have many of the things I yearn for, like a husband to take to the reunion, a baby to coo over, or “ooh and ah worthy” professional achievements, the question made me realize that I’m actually pretty happy just being me. I think it was the same for the others at the table that night.

When the tears flow freely when I wonder what the heck I’ve done with my life and how in the world I’m going to get where I want to be, I try to remind myself that I don’t actually want to be in anyone else’s shoes. Sure, there are certain aspects of others’ lives that I desire for myself but not enough to trade places.

Life is full of compromise and balance. A close friend from college has many of the things that I want in life. From the outside, it seems like she’s “got it made,” but there have been many challenges—both physical and emotional—along the way. As much as I would like to have some of what she has, the stress that she deals with on a daily basis is not worth it to me. No matter how seemingly perfect, we each have obstacles of some sort.

Provided that swapping places with another were even possible, opting for the supposed “perfect” life of a friend, colleague, or former classmate could also mean accepting a strained relationship with a mother, a work environment that sucks you dry, a lack of self-esteem, or any number of other challenges. After closer inspection, I’m pretty sure I’d prefer my own problems.

Given that trading places isn’t yet a reality—contrary to many a Hollywood plot—imaging living the life of someone else can be a valuable tool to accepting the reality of your own. Think of the people you know who lead a life similar to the one you aspire to. What is it that they have that is so enviable? Would you be willing to trade your current circumstances for theirs? Remember, life is about balance. Their triumphs would be yours but so would their challenges. When examined from the inside out, is their life as picture-perfect as you had originally imagined? It might be, but maybe not. Then, I encourage you to think about your own life. Would you be willing to give it all up (the good and the bad) to be in someone else’s shoes? I certainly wouldn’t. I feel happier and more invigorated knowing that I CHOOSE me. I choose to be where I am. I want it all, the triumphs and the challenges.

Do you choose you?

Spiced Nuts with Chinese 5-Spice

When sitting at a bar, with drink in hand, and contemplating deep questions about life, I like to have a little something to nibble. These spiced nuts are so easy to make and they will make a huge splash at your next cocktail party. Or, put them on a fruit and cheese platter or toss them in a spinach salad with fresh berries and slivers of red onion. Yum! This is one of my most asked for recipes.

2 Tbs. sweet cream salted butter (I use Kerrygold)
¼ C. maple syrup
¼ tsp. Chinese 5-Spice powder
1½ C. walnut/pecan halves

In a frying pan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the maple syrup and simmer—while constantly stirring—until the mixture is a rich, golden color and slightly thickened, about 1-2 minutes. Mix in the Chinese 5-spice powder and add the nuts. Toss the nuts with the syrup mixture until evenly coated. Continue to push them around the pan for another 2-4 minutes. As soon as the sugars in the maple syrup start to crystalize, remove from the heat. There is a fine line between “candied” and “burned.” Watch closely, and if in doubt, remove from the heat. Allow to cool completely before transferring to an airtight container.

My Magic Apron

2011-06-06T21:33:00.000-07:00

Superman has his cape, but I have my apron. The moment the quiet and unassuming Clark Kent dons his spandex suit and flying red cape, he transforms into a superhero, fighting crime and injustice. With one twirl in a phone booth or broom closet, Superman is born, flying into the night on the wings of his billowing cape.

One of my favorite aprons

Sashaying into the kitchen and eyeing a favorite apron, I pull it over my head and cinch the ties around my waist and undergo a metamorphosis of sorts. Everything else slips away but the task at hand, and like a pianist at his instrument or a painter at her easel, I set to work on making something both beautiful and satisfying. The apron, my magic charm, and cooking with love and sharing good food, my superpower.

Showing my cousin the wonders of cooking with a Magic Apron

At the school where I taught French, every spring the Fifth Grade Language Arts teacher has the students create a superhero alter ego. She asks them to draw a picture of their superhero selves, including their superpowers, and then write about it using the writing skills they’ve learned throughout the year. Shy kids transform into gregarious superheros, small students take on Thor-like proportions, and thin ones grow muscles to rival any bodybuilder.

Prepping Christmas dinner in a "heavy-duty" apron

This project made me start to think…what would my superhero alter ego look like and what would my superpowers be? And that’s when I discovered the apron. No matter how old, worn-out, or dingy the clothes I’m wearing, I almost always put on an apron before making anything in the kitchen. I used to think I wore the apron simply for the purpose for which it was created, to protect my clothes from spills and splatters, but then I found myself putting an apron over the same clothes that I wore to work in the garden. I realized that the apron symbolized my transition from my mere human self to my superhero self. Apron on, I could chop, stir, and season with ease. Like a blankie to a young child, the apron makes me feel comfortable and secure, and like Superman’s cape, the apron aids me in creating culinary feats.

4th of July Apron

For me, cooking is an expression of art and love. When I prepare a meal for friends or family, I’m sharing a little bit of myself with them. My thoughts, feelings, and love are all infused into each ingredient and into each dish. That is why I like to take the same care with a meal for myself as I would for a crowd. If I don’t treat myself with love and attention, who will? I’m saddened to hear when someone says that they just eat fast food or microwave meals because… “It’s just me.” Believe it or not, with a handful of fresh quality ingredients, you can create a delicious and healthy meal for one in not much more time than it takes to warm something from a box. By cooking for yourself, you feed more than just your body. You’re also feeding your mind and spirit. Throw on a magic apron and make something special for yourself. You deserve it!

If you were a superhero, what would your superpower be? What would your superhero self look like? What gifts would you share with others?

Superhero Pancakes

I love making pancakes for myself. There’s nothing better than enjoying a lazy Sunday morning with a warm cup of tea and a plateful of pancakes. Why wait until there are others around to have this pleasure?!

Usually, I eat a few pancakes and then freeze the rest to warm in the toaster the next time I have a pancake craving. However, if you do want to share with someone special, this recipe makes enough. These pancakes are gluten and dairy free, but you’d never know. They are full of flavor and have a great texture. They are well worth the extra few minutes it takes to make them.

Makes 4 - 6 pancakes

1 tbs. coconut oil
1 cup almond milk
1 tsp. lemon juice
¾ cup brown rice flour
¼ cup wild rice flour, milled in coffee or spice grinder
¼ cup potato starch (not flour)
½ tsp. baking powder
2 tbs. sugar
¼ tsp. sea salt
1 egg, lightly beaten

Melt the coconut oil in a small pan. Using a liquid measuring cup, measure the almond milk. Add the lemon juice and allow it to curdle (it will act like buttermilk in the pancakes). Set aside. Using a clean coffee grinder or spice grinder, mill the wild rice until it’s the consistency of flour. (The wild rice will add a delicious nuttiness to the pancakes.) In a medium bowl, combine the brown rice flour, wild rice flour, potato starch, baking powder, sugar, and sea salt. Then add the melted coconut oil, almond milk, and egg. Stir to combine. Since rice flour doesn’t contain gluten, you don’t have to worry about over mixing the batter!

Melt a bit of coconut oil onto a medium-hot pan or griddle. Using a ladle or small cup, pour enough batter onto the griddle to make a four or five inch pancake. Cook until the bottom is golden brown and the top is covered in bubbles, flip and cook for a few minutes more on the other side. Repeat. Enjoy with maple syrup and dairy free butter (or rich European butter if you eat dairy).

Being Flexible about the Outcome

2011-05-22T16:54:00.000-07:00

Do you know what you want? Sometimes I think I do, and then later discover that I actually want the opposite. A few months ago I entered a recipe contest in a magazine. The mission: create an original recipe using grilled steak, soy sauce, bell peppers, and any additional ingredients of your choosing. And, the entire preparation from start to finish had to take less than 45 minutes.

Suddenly, my mouth was watering as I imagined a cold Vietnamese noodle salad with grilled steak, bell peppers, and other vegetables. Vietnamese cuisine is so fresh and full of tantalizing aromatic herbs. I love the combination of sweet, salty, and spicy. Though soy sauce plays second fiddle to fish sauce in Vietnamese cooking, I thought I could find a way to use it in a steak marinade that not only followed the contest guidelines, but also added another layer of flavor.

While careening down the grocery aisle filling my cart with the items I would need for my contest-worthy masterpiece, I had visions of a full-page spread in the magazine and a new iPod purchased with the prize money. I also liked imagining the surprise and delight of my grandmother, who is a long-time subscriber of the magazine. Armed with a car full of groceries, I headed home and set to work on creating a Vietnamese noodle salad to beat all Vietnamese noodle salads.

After many batches and much trial and error, I finally got the dressing just right. When the salad was assembled, and I took my first bite, my jaw dropped. The dish far surpassed my expectations. I'm salivating just thinking about it. I called my parents, who live just down the street, and invited them to share it with me. The dish serves about six, but the three of us managed to devour nearly the entire bowl. We just couldn't get enough of the fresh, crisp vegetables and the smoky steak with the sweet and sour dressing.

Immediately, I went online to enter the recipe in the contest; however, as soon as I clicked "submit", I found myself hoping I wouldn't win. Weird. I had spent a week brainstorming ideas, an afternoon shopping for groceries, and a full day testing and retesting the final recipe; yet, I was secretly rooting against myself. I realized that if the recipe was chosen to be featured in the magazine, I would lose control of it.

As weeks turned into months, whenever I thought about the contest, I'd get both a flutter of excitement when I thought about my recipe being chosen and at the same time, there was a voice in my head that kept saying, "Are you sure this is what you really want?"

Which comes first…the chicken or the egg? Has anyone figured that out yet? I started to wonder if hoping I wouldn't win was a way to protect myself from disappointment or if I really had changed my mind. I believe it was actually the later. Sometimes it just takes awhile for us to come to terms with the fact that we don't always know what we want at first, or if we do, we don't always know why. When I discovered that another recipe had been chosen, I was disappointed that I couldn't say, "hey, guess what?! I won!" but mostly relieved. Keeping the rights to the recipe allows me to share it with you. It turns out that what I wanted from the contest wasn't to have the recipe chosen, it was having the opportunity to be creative and be forced to make a meal using specific ingredients within a limited amount of time.

We should be our own best advocate. If you don't root for you, who will? But when you find yourself on the sidelines, it might be time to examine your motives. Do you really want whatever it is you're pursuing? Sometimes there are other factors at stake, including low self-esteem and fear of success, but sometimes it's simply because you don't want it enough to fight for it. Or because you actually want (or need) something different. And often, as it was for me with the contest, it's the journey, rather than the destination that's important.

Vietnamese Noodle Salad with Grilled Flank Steak

If you don't eat beef, use chicken, shrimp, or tofu. It will be equally delicious! Instead of soy sauce, I use gluten-free tamari, but either will work.

Serves 6

Flank Steak:
1 flank steak (1 1/2 to 2 lbs)
2 tbs. fresh lime juice (from 1 lime)
1 tbs. sugar
1/4 C. tamari
2 cloves garlic, crushed

Salad:
1 13 oz pkg. rice noodles (Vietnamese vermicelli or pad thai rice sticks)
1 red bell pepper, cut into matchsticks
3 carrots, peeled and cut into matchsticks
1 English (hothouse) cucumber, cut into matchsticks
1/2 C. each of roughly chopped mint, cilantro, basil, and green onion
1 jalapeno or serrano, finely sliced (optional)
1/2 C. roasted peanuts, chopped

Dressing:
1/4 C. fish sauce
1/4 C. fresh lime juice (from 2 limes)
1/4 C. sugar
1/4 C. water

In a small bowl mix the lime juice, sugar, soy sauce, and garlic until blended. Put the flank steak into a large sealable plastic bag and add the marinade. Allow the steak to marinate in the refrigerator while you prepare the other ingredients.

Boil water for the noodles. Cook them according to the directions on the package. Drain. Rinse with cold water. While the noodles cook, cut the vegetables, chop the herbs, and slice the jalapeno. Mix cooked noodles, vegetables, and herbs together in a large bowl. Chop the peanuts and set aside to sprinkle on top of the salad just before serving.

Preheat a gas grill to high. Cook the flank steak, covered, for approximately 4 to 6 minutes on one side and 2 to 5 minutes on the other for medium-rare (depending on the thickness of the cut). Allow to rest for 5 minutes before cutting crosswise into bite-sized slices.

While the steak is grilling, make the dressing by combining the fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, and water in a small bowl. Toss the noodles and vegetables with the dressing and either lay the steak on top or mix it in with the vegetables. Sprinkle with the peanuts and serve.

Giving up the Struggle, Looking for Joy

2011-05-10T11:43:00.000-07:00

I avoid conflict whenever possible. I avoid hardship and struggle. And when faced with two options, I aim for the path of least resistance. Though, I am not lazy or a wimp. I enjoy hard work. I have, however, learned that when life gives you lemons, sometimes you need to make lemonade, but sometimes you need to get rid of the lemons and find something else.

The boarding school was on the beautiful Maine Coast

Many of the big decisions in my life have been made by doing what feels comfortable and easy. Ignoring the "wants" and "shoulds" doesn't mean that the path I choose is less difficult, it just means that it feels manageable because it's the right direction for me. When I was searching for a job after graduate school, I started by looking at jobs in the business world because that's what I thought I should do. With a masters degree in French Cultural Studies, I considered working in international business, which seemed like the right thing to do. I didn't realize it at the time, but there was a heaviness that hung over me every time I perused

My classroom when I taught French to young kids in Los Angeles

websites of potential employers. On a whim I decided to look at job openings at boarding schools. I was certain that I didn't want to be a teacher, but I thought I would take a quick look anyway. As soon as I started looking at teaching jobs, the weight that I didn't know I'd been carrying lifted. Suddenly, leaving graduate school and getting a job didn't seem so scary and overwhelming. It was actually exciting. Within a day or two, I had an interview with a school that was a perfect match for me and within a week I was offered a job.

Teaching French by singing

I ended up teaching French for eight years. Midway through; however, I started to think that maybe it was time for a change. I'd been passionate about food and cooking my entire life and wanted to pursue a culinary career. If I were told I could only cook one thing for the rest of my life, it would be salsa. Finding the right combination of salty, sweet, sour, and spicy makes me feel like an alchemist. So, I started making plans to leave teaching and start bottling my favorite Mexican sauces. I did market research, attended a natural food trade show, and played mad scientist in the kitchen with piles of tomatoes and chiles. But nothing came together. Everything seemed hard, every step laborious. What should have been exciting and invigorating was instead overwhelming and

Salsa verde with thick-cut corn tortilla chips

daunting. What could have felt like the beginning of an exciting new chapter in my life, instead felt like standing at the edge of a massive abyss whose deep and dark cavern I would fall into at any moment. I loved cooking and I loved making salsa, and though I was willing to work hard and make the necessary sacrifices, I just couldn't seem to make it happen.

Fresh tomatillo

The moment I decided to continue teaching, I felt infinitely more serene and excited about the future ahead, which was surprising since I'd always thought food was my passion, not teaching. It wasn't until a few years later that I discovered what my gut had been telling me. I love the creative process of cooking, and I'm passionate about fresh food. Running a company that sells sauces in a jar was not the right choice for me. By taking the path of least resistance and avoiding the struggle that this endeavor was presenting, I wasn't being lazy or complacent, I was actually listening to my intuition.

Salsa verde made from roasted tomatillos

I have since left teaching, but I took steps slowly and followed the whispers of my heart. By attempting many different things and taste-testing a number of different paths, I eventually found the one that felt "right" and fed my soul.

When something feels difficult, sometimes you need to push through the challenge, but sometimes it's because it's not right for you. In those times, it's best to walk away and do something else. What in your life feels like a struggle? Is there another option? What other path could you choose that would feed your soul and nurture you?

The butterfly transforms out of the chrysalis and takes flight

Salsa Verde

makes about 3 cups

I still love to make salsa, and this is one of my favorites. Tomatillos look like small green tomatoes and are covered in a paper-like pouch that looks like a Chinese lantern, much like a gooseberry. They have a sweet citrusy flavor and are a staple in Mexican cooking. Traditionally, to make salsa verde, tomatillos are roasted one by one over an open flame; however, in my search to find the easy route, I've discovered that charring them all at once in the broiler works just as well. With warm weather just around the corner and barbecues abounding, salsa verde is a great dish to add to your summer repertoire. Serve with corn chips for a tasty snack or if you prefer, slow cook it with pork to make a delicious chile verde, use it to make enchiladas verde, or it's also scrumptious on tacos. This recipe makes a medium (spiciness) salsa, adjust the amount of jalapeño to suit your taste.

2 pounds tomatillos, husks removed and washed
1/2 of a medium white or yellow onion, cut into two chunks
1 jalapeño
2 cloves of garlic
1 handful of fresh cilantro
1 1/2 tsp. sea salt

Place the tomatillos, onion, and jalapeño on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper. Roast in the broiler until the tomatillos are soft and the outside is charred (about 20 minutes), turning halfway through. The tomatillos should look burned. Remove from the broiler and allow to cool slightly. Using tongs, place the tomatillos and the onions in a blender. Remove the seeds and ribs from the jalapeño and place only the flesh in the blender (the seeds contain most of the spiciness). If any juices have accumulated on the baking sheet, pour them into the blender as well. Add the garlic, cilantro, and salt, and blend on medium-high until the salsa is smooth. Allow to cool completely before serving. Buon provecho!

Tacos with salsa verde

Grilled pork chop with salsa verde and black beans

Reconciling the Dream with Reality

2011-04-21T12:27:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl I used to see fairies and angels. They frolicked in the park near my home, dancing on leaves and leaping from tree to tree. With age, my childlike sense of wonder and my ability to see with the heart went the way of backyard forts, tricycles, and colorful plastic toys. Other than occasionally mistaking a tree for a person when driving too late at night or when camping believing for a moment that a shadow in the woods is a bear, I don't really have visions or see things that aren't of this world. A few years ago, however, I had an eerie and profound experience that some might even consider mystical or divine.

On a wet and very cold day in July on a family trip to Tuscany, in the style of many a romantic comedy, I decided to make a wish and throw a coin into the fountain in the main square in San Gimignano, a medieval hill town. My wish, of course, was for love. Before launching the coin into the fountain, I stood still for a few minutes, closed my eyes, and imagined the man of my dreams standing beside me. I felt the weight of his arms wrapped around my shoulders and the sensation of being in love. With this image clearly in my mind's eye, I opened my eyes and tossed the coin into the fountain. At the very moment the coin splashed into the water, there was a huge clap of thunder. Directly across from the fountain was a building with mirrored windows. My gaze was immediately transfixed on this building. Just as Harry Potter sees the thing he wants most in the world (his family) in the Mirror of Erised in The Philosopher's Stone, I saw reflected in the mirrored building not only the fountain, but also a man standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. For that split second, I saw the man that I would spend my life with.

Elation spread throughout my being. It gave me proof that I would one day find the man I'd been longing for, and it also reopened the window into the world that is beyond what we can hear and see. Unfortunately, this affirming and somewhat magical experience has proven at times to be more of a curse than a blessing. As I navigate the dating world, I try (and bit by bit I'm getting better at this) to look beyond subjective qualities (like height, looks, interests, choice of career…) and instead look for kindness, humor, shared values, and life-long compatibility. The challenge, however, is that always in the back of my mind is the image of the man I saw reflected in the mirror. How do you measure a real man against a vision? The man I saw was tall with somewhat shaggy brown hair, slender yet athletic, a little bit goofy, outdoorsy, cultured, and intelligent. I know it seems like a lot to ascertain in a split-second vision, but this is what I saw. He actually looked a lot like the guys I grew up with. So, the questions I find nagging at the corners of my mind are: Did I actually see the man that I will end up with or did I see a projection of the kind of man that I've always thought I would end up with? The men I've dated rarely remind me of the man in the vision, but sometimes I wonder if someday this man will stumble into my life. Should I actively seek him out? And if so, where do you look for a man you've only seen for an instant? As far as I can tell, online dating sites have not yet added "saw him in a vision" to their search options. I suppose I could camp out at a trailhead, REI, or my local bookstore, but I wonder if I'm even meant to meet this man? Perhaps the vision was only intended to show me that someday love will come. How do you reconcile the dream of a supposed ideal man with the reality of dating?

Tuscan White Beans with Sage

serves 2

For a romantic dinner for two, serve with roasted chicken or grilled Italian sausage and kale sautéed with sliced garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice. Eat by candlelight, drink a good bottle of Chianti, and whisper a few words of Italian to one another. Or, if it's just you…do the same thing. Treat yourself as though you are the most treasured and desired dinner companion around. Plus, these beans are so good, you might not actually want to share them. I ate the whole pot by myself the other day!

2 tbs. extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced
5 fresh sage leaves, thinly sliced (chiffonade)
pinch of sea salt
pinch of cracked black pepper
1 15-oz can cannellini beans (white kidney beans), drained and rinsed

Heat the olive oil and garlic in a small small sauté pan over medium-low heat. Add the salt and pepper and sage. Stirring occasionally, cook until the garlic is tender and slightly translucent (1-3 minutes). Add the beans. Increase the heat to medium. Cook until the beans are warm and slightly creamy, stirring occasionally.

Buon Appetito!!

Shopping for Love

2011-04-07T17:33:00.000-07:00

Is love like riding a bicycle? Do you always remember how? I'm starting to wonder if I could have forgotten. For that matter, I wonder if I've forgotten how to ride a bicycle… The Schwinn hybrid I bought with my stimulus check has sat in pieces in my garage ever since I moved two years ago. Spider webs and dust are now more prevalent than the salt and sand from my rides to the beach when I lived in Santa Monica.

Molly My Border Collie

Anyway, back to love… I feel love everyday. I love my morning cup of English breakfast tea. I love the fact I no longer awaken to an alarm clock. I love that I can grow my own food. I love the critters that share my home with me. I tell my dog she's the cutest, but my cats are a close second. The chickens…well…not quite so cute, but they are very entertaining. Plus, their efforts fill the fridge with delicious eggs. I love my friends and family. I can't imagine living without the amazing people whom I've encountered throughout my life. The love I feel for these people and things seems to be a constant, but what about the other kind? The kind that I've been searching for on dating sites and on the produce aisle of my local grocery.

Nutmeg My Golden-Laced Wyandotte

This is the plight of the modern single woman…or at least it's my plight. Serial dating leads to free drinks and occasional romance, but true connection tends to be rare and takes time to cultivate. If only love were like a museum…a docent would hand you a map pointing the way to affection.

Recently I read a book about looking for The One. After exhaustive research, the author came to the conclusion that instead of looking for Mr. Right, we should instead be aiming for Mr. Good Enough. Rather than looking for sparks, she suggests we consider marriage as a partnership between people with shared values. Regardless of my One being Mr. Right or Mr. Good Enough, I wonder how to keep my loving acumen in tip top shape? When presented with the right man at the right time, will it be like that proverbial bicycle? Does it all come flooding back just like making the wheels on the bike roll forward? Suddenly, love oozes from your pores as you fall into a comfortable pattern of loving one another?

Rainbow Chard Growing in My Garden

I enjoy watching house hunting programs on television. It seems that every couple, no matter how young or how weathered, is searching for double sinks in their bathroom. They say it's the key to a successful and happy marriage. Is that it? Double sinks? Is that the path to love? So, while I contemplate a bathroom renovation and wonder whether Mr. Good Enough is more likely on aisle 4 or haunting the local coffee shop, I continue to cook and savor each day as much as possible. The following recipe is one of my favorites, which no doubt I will share with my One when I find him.

Leafy Green Bird Nests

makes 2 hearty servings

I rarely cook the same thing twice. I love variety and in order to keep my creative juices flowing, I find I have to continually challenge myself to experiment with new flavors and combinations. This dish, however, I make at least once or twice a week. It's that good! It's healthy, delicious, and easy to make. The inspiration for this dish originally came from Barbara Kingsolver's book, Animal, Vegetable, Mineral in which she writes about the year that she and her family only ate food raised in their neighborhood or in their own backyard. Leafy Green Bird Nests is great for brunch but with a few added ingredients, it can easily be transformed into a quick and tasty weeknight dinner. Try it and let me know what you think.

2 tbs. olive oil
1 cup leeks, sliced (wash them really well because dirt tends to hide in the crevices)
a dash of sea salt
6 cups rainbow chard (leaves and stems), chopped
4 free-range eggs

In a large cast iron skillet (or other heavy-bottomed sauté pan) heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the leeks and a dash of sea salt. Cook the leeks until soft and slightly caramelized, stirring occasionally. While the leeks cook, wash and chop the rainbow chard. When the leaks are soft, add the chard and increase the heat to medium-high. Continue to cook until the chard is tender, stirring occasionally. Reduce heat to medium and make four wells (or nests) in the greens. Crack an egg into each of the wells. Cover with a lid, and cook until the egg whites are cooked through and the yolks are set.

Don't have any leeks or rainbow chard? This recipe can also be made with kale, spinach, chopped cooked broccoli, sliced roasted potatoes, or any other leafy green or vegetable that suits your fancy. I've made it with each of these vegetables, and it's delicious every time!

Eggs from My Hens

Want to serve it for dinner? Add chopped garlic and thinly sliced sun dried tomatoes when sautéing the vegetables. Before serving, top the eggs with a dollop of Procrastination Pesto, grated Parmesan cheese, and chili flakes (optional). Bon Appétit!

More Rainbow Chard

Eating Winter, Dreaming Spring

2011-03-24T20:11:00.000-07:00

"Patience is a virtue" was an oft repeated phrase by the mother of a childhood friend. Neither my friend nor I had siblings to bug at home, so like sisters, we would tease, taunt, and annoy each other. When one of us would get antsy and whine that the other should hurry, inevitably one of us would hurl, "Patience is a virtue!" at the other. We didn't understand the expression; to us it meant "hang on" or "wait, I'm busy!"

If patience is indeed a virtue, I suppose I've not been very virtuous these past few weeks while waiting for the rains to subside. We are caught in that no man's land of neither winter nor spring. Although the calendar tells us that we are in spring, it feels too cold and wet to be the season of flowers and baby birds, yet there are too many blossoms on the trees to ignore that warmer weather is soon to approach.

Recently, I spent hours pouring over my seed catalogs, dog-earing pages and circling items to be purchased. It took an entire morning to finally place my order online. Seeds are like putting a pittance in the bank and hoping that eventually it will turn into something. I have practically been shaking with excitement while imagining the bounty of my vegetable garden this summer. I'm dreaming of juicy tomatoes, earthy golden beets, crisp carrots, and perfumed melons. Before the dirt is even warm enough to plant, I can already taste the colorful salads, ice cold watermelon, and vegetables hot off the grill. In this season of new beginnings, I find myself jumping ahead to the time of harvest, blatantly ignoring the treasures to be savored in these cold, wet transition months.

Looking out the window at the forlorn, bare branches of the fruit trees in my backyard, it's easy to forget that even now there are delicious fresh fruits and vegetables in season. Although in the past I've enjoyed an orange from time to time, citrus has not generally been my go-to fruit; however, this winter I've been discovering the amazing bounty of citrus available, all with beautiful and melodic names like mineola, tangelo, and pomelo. The names mandarin, tangerine, and clementine could be God's gift to poets. And what about grapefruit, ugli fruit, blood orange, or Buddha's hand? There are so many tart, sweet, and tangy fruits of various sizes, colors, and flavors to explore that I'm starting to think that being patient might not be quite as hard as I had thought. So, the next time my friend says, "Patience is a virtue", I'll yell back, "Hang on! I'm eating."

Waiting for Spring Salad
serves 4

Citrus and avocado are a delicious pairing. They enjoy each other's company and grow well in the same climate, so naturally they blend harmoniously on the plate as well. This salad is the perfect antidote to the when-will-springtime-come blues.

Salad:
1 7-ounce package arugula
1 bunch green onions, thinly sliced
2 large avocados, cut into chunks or slices
2 ruby red grapefruits, peeled and pith/skin removed

Dressing:
1 tsp. fresh lemon juice
1 tsp. balsamic vinegar
2 tbs. extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper

In a large salad bowl, combine the arugula and green onions. Toss with the avocado and grapefruit (to prepare the grapefruit, remove the peel completely, pull off the skin and pith from each individual section, and break the sweet juicy parts into chunks). For the dressing, whisk together the lemon juice, vinegar, oil, and salt and pepper. Drizzle over the salad and mix to combine. At first it may not seem like there is enough dressing, but it will combine with the juice from the grapefruit once the salad is tossed.

Savoring Food Mind, Body, and Soul

2011-03-19T15:01:00.000-07:00

I've just spent a wonderful Saturday afternoon chatting with Betsey Lewis of Color Visions Radio about living deliciously and savoring the food we ingest. To listen to our conversation about the healing and nurturing powers of food, click the play button below.

Update: 3/26/11
The link I posted expired. Does anyone know how I can imbed an mp3 file here?

Procrastination: Productivity's Secret Ally?

2011-03-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

As it turns out, I'm a procrastinator. I've always thought of myself as a take-charge-get-it-done kind of person, but the truth is…I let the dishes sit in the sink until there's no room for any more, I put off packing for a trip until the last minute, and I let my lawn grow so long it's more jungle than putting green. In school I always thought I was a step ahead of my classmates who begged teachers for extensions and pulled all-nighters to finish history papers and lab reports, but in my adult years I have discovered that actually I have quite a knack for putting things off.

This Is How Animal Fur Gets on the Couch

Last week, I decided to devote the weekend to organizing my tax documents. So, what was the first thing I did Saturday morning? I decided to clean my house. That makes sense, right? I figured I would be able to concentrate better in a clean and organized environment, which is true. But what started out as a quick tidy up, rapidly progressed into washing the dishes, sterilizing the counters, sweeping the floors, and scrubbing the sinks. This led to a load of laundry and then another and another. I would get to the taxes soon, right? I just needed a clutter free environment in which to work…at least that's what I kept telling myself. The carpet was polka-dotted with tufts of dog hair, so I decided to get them with the vacuum. Once it was out, I figured I might as well vacuum the whole house. Then, I noticed that there was cat fur on the backs of the couches, so I used the upholstery attachment and sucked that away too. As long as I was running the washer, I decided I might as well launder the curtains, the bedding, the dog's bed, the shower curtain, the bathmat, and all my sneakers. Since the shower curtain was in the wash, it seemed like a good time to scrub the tub and shower (something I despise) and give the rest of the bathroom a good scrub down too.

Romanesco Broccoli from My Now Weed-Free Garden

The morning was quickly progressing into midday, and I needed to feed the chickens and collect the eggs, but when I was in the backyard, I noticed that my vegetable garden was full of weeds. It was such a beautiful day! I told myself that it wouldn't hurt to pull a few weeds…I'd still have enough time to work on my taxes, right? The ground was soft and the weeds came out easily. In practically no time at all, I'd amassed a large pile, which was very satisfying, so I kept going. Eventually, I ended up weeding all six raised beds and all the weed-infested walkways between them. And while I was at it, I decided to plant some more snap peas too.

Somewhere between pulling chick weed and planting peas, I decided to give up on the idea of doing my taxes that day. The weather was too nice, and I realized that by working so hard to avoid working on my taxes, I had actually been more productive than I'd been in ages (I paid my bills too…did I mention that?). Sometimes when we're avoiding one thing, we inadvertently find ourselves doing the things we usually avoid. In the past, I've thought of procrastination as the thing that makes me watch daytime television and take naps at noon, but I've discovered that procrastination can actually be a great way to get stuff done. What are you avoiding? Of course, it's probably best just to do it, but if you're going to put it off anyway, what can you do in the meantime that you wouldn't have done otherwise?

Grilled Filet Mignon (or Halibut) with Procrastination Pesto

Serves 4

Having given into procrastination and receiving its gift of productivity, I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner. I went to my local butcher and bought two small medallions of local, grass-fed beef filets that I grilled and topped with homemade pesto. This is a quick and delicious meal that can be made when you're procrastinating or when you're celebrating all the stuff you got done while putting off doing something else.

Meat/Fish:

4 thick (or 8 thin) filet mignon medallions
OR
1 1/2 pounds halibut (approx. 1/3 pound per person)

Pesto:
1/2 cup raw walnuts
4 cloves of garlic
1 handful (.75 ounces) of italian parsley, large stems removed
4 handfuls (4 ounces) fresh basil, large stems removed
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
sea salt

To make the pesto: Place all ingredients in a food processor fitted with a stainless steel blade. Do 30 to 40 one-second pulses until the ingredients come together in a uniform sauce but still retain some chunks. Allow the pesto to rest for approximately 15 to 30 minutes to let the flavors marry. It may taste a bit piquant at first, but after marinating, the flavors will combine to make a sauce you'll want to eat by the spoonful.

To grill the meat/fish: Preheat a gas grill to high. Sprinkle the beef with salt and pepper (leave the fish plain). Cook the filet mignon approximately 2 to 4 minutes per side for medium-rare. Place the fish on lightly greased foil and cook with the grill cover down until just barely cooked through, approximately 10 to 15 minutes. Remove from the grill and top with Procrastination Pesto. Serve extra pesto in a bowl for guests to add to their meat/fish. The pesto is also a great condiment for roasted potatoes if served as a side dish.

Toss the leftover pesto with pasta, diced tomatoes, and arugula the next day for a delicious and fresh pasta dish.