mulberryshoots

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" ~ Mary Oliver

Month: June, 2013

pocketful of rye . . .

. . . rye bread dough risingA friend of mine, R., lives in a tiny row house near Regent’s Park in the Marylebone district of London. The door is painted bright yellow and there is a veritable garden on the front pavement and across the way, lined with trees in pots, flowers and other vegetation. Once, when I visited her, she served a small loaf of rye bread which had a tight crumb and toasted up beautifully with a crusty exterior and chewy insides. It was just right, spread with thin slices of pate, or sweet butter and homemade jam. Fruitlessly, I have looked for a loaf that resembles this memory a long time ago, and had given up finding such a tasty loaf of dark bread.
rye bread beg
Recently, my daughter, M., mentioned that she baked a spelt/rye bread from a recipe a friend gave to her awhile ago. Nigel Slater, a cookery maven from England also has a recipe for spelt/rye bread, this one with a little grated parmesan cheese added during the second kneading of the dough. Because the heat wave that we’ve had dispersed into drizzly rain and fog, it’s much cooler now and I thought I would weigh in and try my hand at making one of these loaves of bread. Nigel Slater’s recipe is given for two loaves and the ingredients are listed in metric specifications. I like to make one loaf at a time so I cut the recipe in half. Here are my approximate measurements converted from his:

Nigel Slater’s rye loaf: In a warmed bowl, combine dry ingredients:
1 1/2 cups rye flour; 1 1/2 cups wholemeal spelt flour; 1/3 cup white flour; 1 tablespoon (packet) of dry yeast; 1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt. Whisk these dry ingredients together to combine.

Heat scant 1 1/2 cups of water to warm but not hot; stir in 1 1/2 tablespoons of honey.
Pour water/honey into dry mixture and stir to combine. (Mine was a little dry when I added 1 1/4 cups of water so I added in a bit more, that’s why I increased the measurement from 1 1/4 to a scant 1 1/2 cups)

Reserve 1/8 cup of freshly grated parmesan cheese to knead into the dough after it rises the first time.

Pull and stretch dough while kneading for a good 4-5 minutes. Lightly oil a clean bowl and let the dough rise until it is doubled, covered with a cloth or plastic wrap. Remove the dough from the bowl, place on a lightly floured board and knead again, briefly, for just a minute or two, adding parmesan as you go. I patted the dough into a rectangle, sprinkled parmesan cheese with a spoon, folded it over into thirds, then over again; repeated twice.

Butter a bread pan and flour it, shake out the excess flour. Shape the kneaded dough into a loaf and place in the pan, cover and set aside for a half hour or so until it has risen again.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Yes, I was surprised at this too but that’s the proper conversion from “220C, gasmark 8.”

Bake for 25-30 minutes until crisp on top. Remove from the oven, leave for 10 minutes, then lift out and leave the loaf to cool before slicing. To keep, wrap in foil or kitchen film and set aside. It will also freeze well.

. . .fresh out of the oven!

. . .fresh out of the oven!


So that’s tonight’s supper, along with a couple of croquettes of sweet potato, quinoa and cranberries that I picked up at Whole Foods yesterday. A small, crispy green salad would be good alongside.

after dinner postscript: next time, I would stretch, pull and knead the dough differently to incorporate more air into the dough during the first kneading step. Might also add a little more water too!

small wonders . . .

birthday tulips!Today, I was fiddling around with some photos in order to print some out and take along with me when I visit my daughter and her family in Minneapolis, a couple of weeks from now. What I had in mind was to print them out in smaller sizes, make a montage of them, print out the montage and frame it, thereby getting more images into one space.

On my HP printer instructions, it showed “contact sheet” as an option to print multiple small photos all lined up in rows. Not knowing how to input more than one photo at a time, I searched on online for help. Up popped various sites including ones for free software to make collages online, save and download them for printing. JUST what I didn’t know that I was searching for. So, a few minutes later, I downloaded “Smilebox” for a 7-day free trial ($3.+/month if you choose to subscribe afterwards.)

Much to my surprise, there were a myriad of collage formats to choose from–some marked “premium” which would be free during the 7-day trial. PLUS, my little collage could be set to MUSIC! ~ mine or theirs. I chose to upload the ukelele version of “somewhere over the rainbow” played by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. A piece of music that I uploaded for another collage was Steve Martin’s composition for banjo called “the great remember” in memory of Martin Short’s wife, Nancy. It’s a sweet little piece.

Anyhow, I’m excited about this little discovery and thought I’d mention it in a post today to share the first and second “pancakes” from this fun medium. And thanks to all the smiling faces in the collages for such good times that we have shared together!

Click here to see this small wonder that appeared out of the blue today! And here’s another . . .

Postscript: here is one that marries a poem by mary oliver with a prelude by Scriabin played by Yuja Wang.

fresh start . . .

DSC_0923
Made a smoothie for breakfast that tastes lighter than usual and is very refreshing:

Ingredients:
almond coconut milk
freshly squeezed juice from two navel oranges
fresh spinach from Idylwylde Farm (half a handful)
fresh parsley (half a handful)
fresh blueberries (a quarter of a handful)
frozen peaches (about 6 slices)
frozen banana (fresh, cut up and stored in freezer)
a large knob of peeled ginger root

Mixed in the Vitamix. Makes two tall glasses, one reserved in the fridge for later in the day.

This smoothie was markedly different from others that I have made so far. Adding freshly squeezed juice from two navel oranges to the almond-coconut milk base added flavor and resulted in lighter liquid content. Parsley and spinach were less dense greens than kale by itself. Plus, frozen fruit (peaches and banana) made the drink colder than room temperature smoothies of the past. The knob of ginger root was peeled and at least twice the size I normally use. It added zing and provided a clean aftertaste. Overall, this concoction was lighter in density, more flavorful and colder than normal: a keeper recipe to jot down in my food journal.

Last night, photos (shuffle) appeared on my Mac laptop while we watched the game (the Bruins made a stalwart effort tying the game at 5-5 but lost in overtime.) As the images came and went, I couldn’t help but notice how much older I looked a couple of years ago and even as recently as this last holiday season. In addition to growing my hair longer, I think I may have lost about twenty pounds these last six months because I feel/look much healthier/better.

Of all the things that might have helped, I think the little Oster citrus juicer has made the most difference. Whenever I find myself craving something to snack on, I juice up a pink grapefruit and two navel oranges. It is a refreshing drink that also satisfies my desire to eat something. Plus, I keep the fruit in the fridge so that the juice is nice and cold. Adding fresh juice to almond-coconut milk was a good experiment.

So, that’s today’s fresh start for the day.

game four . . .

ghiardelli 1So for game three of the Bruins Stanley Cup Playoff game against the Blackhawks, I made a “tarte aux pommes” with simple ingredients I already had on hand. In the Times today, there was a small photograph at the bottom of the front page showing what looked like a chocolate chip cookie. But this one had chunkier pieces of chocolate showing, not your usual Nestle’s semi-sweet chocolate chips that come in the ubiquitous dark yellow bag that nearly everyone buys to make that old cookie favorite.

The featured article about baking these cookies was by an otherwise erstwhile health food columnist, Martha Rose Shulman. It turns out she is a ghost-baker for baking cookery book authors. As you know from reading my food posts, we like eating rather spare, healthy cooking too.

Not today. The reason why the cookies caught my eye and looked so delectable is that the recipe calls for cut up bittersweet chocolate. So when I was at the grocery store, I bought two bars of Ghiardelli chocolate labeled “Intense Dark.” My first thought was to bake batches of the chocolate mixed individually and to compare the taste. But in the end, I cut up the chocolate, mixed both kinds of bitter chocolate together in the cookie batter and slid the baking pan into the oven.

Here they are cooling on the oversized rack that I’ve been hoping to use for some time.

. . . bittersweet chocolate chunk cookies cooling on the rack

. . . bittersweet chocolate chunk cookies cooling on the rack


Here’s also hoping that the Bruins win tonight and go on to win their game 4 on Saturday night to clinch the Stanley Cup. Because at this rate, all of the healthy eating influences in the last few months will have been obliterated by our cravings while watching the playoffs. I guess we could try carrot sticks or something but these bittersweet chocolate chip cookies are a lot more fun.

The true test is of course how they taste. I just tried my first one, splitting it with G. to see what they were like. I’m not really much of a desserts person myself, which is why these crisp, light cookies with dark chocolate are so delicious! They are a lot less sweet than ones made with Nestle’s semi-sweet chocolate chips. Moreover, the FLAVOR of the bittersweet chocolate is intensely enjoyable.

Here’s to the Bruins winning tonight!

supper . . .

It started to get hot today, the air conditioning kicking on when it reached 82 degrees. There was a strong breeze though and the humidity wasn’t that bad. For dinner, there was a pack of Bell and Evans chicken thighs that I rinsed in cold water this morning and then marinated in some Korean Bulgogi barbecue sauce. I left it covered in the fridge and then took it out mid-afternoon, turning the pieces over in the marinade and then covering the top with a plate.

I would have liked to grill the chicken on our little cast iron hibachi out on the back deck since it’s so warm, but some birds, (we think they’re robins,) built a nest in the alcove right under the hibachi. There don’t seem to be any eggs there to hatch, but the birds come in for a rest stop every once in awhile. (How would we like to be out in the pouring rain if we were birds?) Anyhow, that’s why the hibachi is out of commission, at least for right now.

. . . nest built under the hibachi on the back deck

. . . nest built under the hibachi on the back deck


So I took my rectangular grill pan and set it on two burners. I really like this piece of equipment because you can cook food quickly on it and it makes those nice grill marks on the food afterwards. All we’re missing is the flavor of mesquite. For our other course (remember, just two a meal,) I’ll pan fry some fresh spinach until it’s just wilted, turn off the heat, dress with a little organic Ohsawa soy sauce and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

Here it is: simple and healthy.

. . . teriyaki chicken and fresh spinach on the grill pan

. . . teriyaki chicken and fresh spinach on the grill pan

Oh, and apple tart for dessert while we watch the Bruins tonight.

. . . apple tart baked this morning

. . . apple tart baked this morning

tarte aux pommes . . .

. . . apple tart with preserve glaze on top (peach, cherry & apricot)

. . . apple tart with preserve glaze on top (peach, cherry & apricot)

I was knitting this morning when I remembered that game three of the Bruins/Blackhawk Stanley Cup Playoffs is on tonight at 8 pm. Since championship playoffs hold a heightened air of expectation, I usually like to have something to have on hand to munch on. If you’ve seen the movie, “Silver Linings Playbook,” you’ll remember the “homemades” and other snacks that were always prepared for each football game that Robert de Niro’s character would bet on to win.
apple tart 1
In any case, I wanted to make something with what I already had on hand: one Pillsbury pie crust in the fridge; three Granny Smith apples in the pantry and some peach/cherry/apricot preserves in the door of the fridge. I’m a fan of less crust, not more, so I’ve been making French tarts with thinly sliced apples, adapting Julia Child’s recipe but simplifying it with pre-made pie crust. These thin tarts are less mushy and require peeling only three rather than eight apples to fill a full apple pie. I butter the foil on the pan before unfolding the pie crust; then brush the crust with slightly warmed preserves on which to place the apples.
apple tart 2
After the apples are peeled and cored, they’re sliced really thin and placed in opposite facing rows, a small conceit that makes the tart look more fabulous than it deserves. Then I mix turbinado sugar (a heartier sugar) with ground cinnamon and nutmeg. Sprinkle the top of the tart, dot with unsalted butter, a squeeze of fresh lemon and then place into the middle of a 400 degree preheated oven for about 20 minutes.
apple tart 5
Not quite finished, I take the tart out of the oven and then gently brush the jam lightly over the top, covering the whole thing with a kind of fruit glaze. Back into the oven for about twelve more minutes.

And voila! as the French say–a nice apple tart from a mere handful of ingredients I didn’t even remember that I had on hand.

I think we’ll serve it plain in small wedges tonight but it’s also really good with Haagen Daz vanilla swiss almond ice cream. Or a small dab of creme fraiche, come to think of it. Fingers crossed for the Bruins to win tonight!
apple tart 6

pasta plus . . .

pasta plus closeupTonight, I prepared a new dish for supper which I thought would be easy to make. I had bought some summer yellow squash and some gorgeous tomatoes plus fresh egg pasta at Idylwylde Farm that I thought might be nice to make a meal together.

It took a lot longer than I had thought to prepare:

a. peel and cut the squash lengthwise, then diagonally in bite size pieces
b. rinse rectangular grill pan and heat on a rack about six inches from the broiler
c. mix with my hands the chopped squash with three cloves chopped garlic, grapeseed oil, a little Lawry’s garlic salt, sea salt and coarse pepper
d. spray heated grill pan with vegetable oil; spread squash out on the grill pan and broil until golden brown (about 15 minutes)
e. cut up a large fresh tomato in small wedges
f. after removing the squash, spray again and spread out the cut tomato pieces; sprinkle tomatoes lightly with a little sugar to caramelize and brown under the broiler (about 10 minutes.)
g. In a nice serving bowl, spoon the squash on the bottom and add the broiled tomatoes on top. Cut up some fresh basil leaves and scatter on top.

ALFREDO PASTA:
a. Boil salted water and add fresh pasta after pulling it apart before dropping it into the pot; cook for about 3-4 minutes tasting at intervals until it is soft enough and also slightly al dente
b. In a separate saucepan, melt three quarters of a stick of unsalted butter; saute 2-3 cloves of chopped garlic; when golden, add a small container of cream and heat gently. Add fresh or freeze-dried parsley
c. Vitamix a chunk of parmesan reggiano cheese; add a half cup of the grated cheese to the cream, stir gently to mix and take off the burner.
d. Drain cooked pasta well, do not rinse in cold water, just shake it a few times in a colander to extract the water. Run a knife through the cooked pasta to make the strands more manageable. In a clean large bowl, pour the parmesan cream mixture. Add the hot drained pasta and mix well with the parmesan alfredo cream.

On dinner plates, serve some of the alfredo pasta in a circle; add grilled vegetables on top, sprinkle with more parmesan cheese and fresh basil leaves on top.

The dish was surprisingly tender and full of flavor. It made a big difference to dry roast the vegetables rather than cooking them in a skillet.

I have to warn you that I got a little cranky with all the broiling (once for the squash, another for the tomato); making the alfredo sauce while testing the pasta for doneness. While I was cooking in the warm kitchen, it reminded me how much simpler my cooking has become (at least most of the time!)

But it was a nice change of pace and I have to tell you, it tasted really good! Yum!
pasta 3

when less is (truly) more . . .

. . . the tree in recovery today

. . . the tree in recovery today


Some of you readers have heard me talk quite a bit about ways in which less is more. How simplifying by getting rid of things creates more space for energy to move around. For preparing less food at meals, cutting down from four (protein, starch, vegetables, salad) types of food to only two (vegetable and salad; or rice and vegetable; or fish and salad) reducing serving size at the same time. With less to eat, it tastes like more to savor somehow.

On the other side of the coin, though, I confess here to gigantic overdoing it when it comes to our money plant tree. It started out as a six inch plant on our kitchen sink.

. . . plant starting out on the kitchen counter years ago

. . . plant starting out on the kitchen counter years ago


Over time, it grew. And grew and grew until the top had hit the ceiling and I moved it to the one place that had room for it to keep growing higher. That turned out to be a big mistake. Here’s what happened. There was way more direct sun. If sunlight is good, then more sunlight should be better, right? I also thought the pot looked a little bare so I topped off the soil with some that was in a bag downstairs in the basement. More soil to grow with, I thought, naively. Last of all, water~! More water, I thought with all that additional sunlight and soil would make it grow faster and taller, right?

Well, it did grow fast with leaflets pushing up against the skylight. But it also dropped leaves that turned brown almost as fast as they grew in size. We had found a nest of cobwebby spider mites at the top and trimmed it off. After that, I was paranoid the plant was still infested with them and responsible for the leaves dropping like rain. In desperation, I wrote to a horticultural help line and a very nice man wrote back that this plant did not really like that much direct sunlight; that the photos I sent looked like natural secretions and that it might be a good idea to remove the soil that I had placed on top. Moreover, he said, the plant likes the soil to become dry before watering.

. . . money plant at its prime three years ago

. . . money plant at its prime three years ago


. . . tree dropping leaves on May 6th

. . . tree dropping leaves on May 6th


I was stubborn in thinking more was more in this case. But finally, we lopped off two feet off the top so that we could move it back to where it was before. The tree expert said it sometimes took three weeks for a plant to re-acclimate itself to a change in growing environment. So, I left it alone. It had indirect sunlight, the soil was still wet and I put it by our singing canary to keep it company.

Three weeks went by and still the soil was wet to the touch, much to my amazement. Finally, it was dry enough to the touch for me to water it with spring, not tap water as the expert had suggested. The leaves stopped dropping. The plant looked happy and happier as time went by because I wasn’t doing anything to it. For once, less really was way more in restoring this living thing to more optimal health: less sun, less soil, less water.

Now it seems happy. And so, dear reader, am I. In case you are a helicopter parent like me on occasion, you might also take heed of this little plant story. More is not always better. Sometimes, less is more. In fact, with almost anything these days, less is becoming more as a way of life.

Here’s a look at the tiny sprout that emerged from the cut top just yesterday!

. . . money tree with tiny sproutlet on top

. . . money tree with tiny sproutlet on top

Postscript Photos: About two months ago, we cut about two feet off the top of the tree. I was reluctant to throw it away so I stuck it into a bottle of water out on the back deck. In the meantime, there’s been a lot of rain. I don’t know if that made a difference but was astonished to find small leaf growths all over it when I went out to water the amaryllis the other day. So here’s a photo of this embarrassment of riches!

. . . tiny leaves sprouting on cut stalk

. . . tiny leaves sprouting on cut stalk


At the same time, the little sproutlet that emerged where the top was cut off shown above in this post last week has been growing an inch a day. I kid you not! It now has three leaflets on about ten inches of growth.
. . . new growth where the tree was cut

. . . new growth where the tree was cut

still here . . .

beautimous garden for blog postI don’t know when I started to read obituaries regularly. Maybe it was when more people who were younger than I am seemed to be dying. The other day, a little video appeared on Skype made by my daughter M. and her two-year-old daughter, Josie. In it, they faced the camera and Josie, in her little voice said to her Mom, “not here?” “not here?” meaning we weren’t coming on the screen. It was a charming vignette and one that is relevant here because I think we all think about when we’re “not here” anymore.

In my writing, one of the themes that recurs is that the superficial trappings of fame are not necessarily what defines a life’s worth of living. In fact, I think it’s just the opposite. For example, I know of so many interesting stories about families who disperse as though shot out of a cannon, siblings who live and work in South America, Asia, Washington and New York City. I remember one family whom I was able to observe because the daughter was a good friend when we were both freshmen in college. I never saw a woman and a man so love in with each other as her parents seemed to be, all the time, in spite of raising a household of rebellious, independent, artistic teenagers. Just the way they looked at each other in the dusk by their swimming pool was so much more intense than Hemingway ever managed to convey.

There was another family who lived up the street from me when I was in junior high school. These parents were cold and formal, but the kids, who were my contemporaries, were wild and curious, unconventional and also gorgeous to look at. One of them went to South America and lived most of his life there; the middle son volunteered for the Marines, served a bunch of terms and then lived in Japan where he met his wife and now live in a simple cabin near Puget Sound and work as fishermen. The youngest, a daughter, changed her name and embarked to Alaska of all places where she taught herself how to play the HARP! which she takes onboard with her when she flies to perform at concerts in the rain forests of Brazil!

So you see, it’s not just people who are heads of things (lettuce) or invent things or are culturally visible who are worth mentioning. To me, there are far more interesting and inspirational lives out there, full of pathos, tragedy and illuminating joyousness. Here is an obituary of Mott Green, about a rebel with a cause who did it his way whose obituary appeared in the Times this week.

It seems to me that people’s lives are worthwhile in many small ways, whether or not there’s a fancy obituary written about them. Maybe I’ll come up with how to capture these characters in this phantom book I keep thinking is just around the corner that I will sit down and write in three weeks. Or maybe, I’ll just keep doing it right here, little by little, at least for the time being until I figure it out.
beautimous 2

lemon poppyseed . . .

. . . lemon poppyseed pound cake in the pan

. . . lemon poppyseed pound cake in the pan


I was looking for something to have after dinner while we watch the first game of the Bruins-Blackhawks Stanley Cup Playoffs tonight. There have been times when I have reminded G. how fortunate he is that I am one of those wives who actually enjoys watching action movies and sports. Typically, we watch the Red Sox, then the Patriots, less often the Celtics (there’s something off-putting about them) and the Bruins when they put up a save like that seventh game playoff against the Toronto Maple Leafs, trailing by 3 goals in the 3rd period, tying the game and then winning in overtime. I mean, c’mon, I may be a fair-weather hockey fan but I’ve been loyal watching them beat the Rangers after the Toronto thriller, then the Penguins as the underdog team in a shutout, four games to zero! Now, we have at least four games more to watch. It’s hard to visually follow a hockey game I think–but it’s fun to watch when they win. And they have been doing that rather well, lately, barring Campbell breaking his fibula and out for the rest of the season. Since I’m usually knitting something, it’s a good combination while watching sports on TV.

So back to making the pound cake, I had the TV turned to a channel showing repeats of “Bones,” the forensic mystery cum romance which is surprisingly fun to cook by. I followed Melissa Clark’s recipe from the Times today. I wondered how many readers would know how to zest two lemons (using a microplane) but no matter. Mixing turbinado sugar and fragrant lemon zest with my hands felt really wonderful, it turns out. Adding eggs, buttermilk and then olive oil? was, well, surprising. I dutifully buttered and floured my wonderful cast iron white porcelain Le Creuset loaf pan and put the cake into the oven to bake for an hour.
lemon poundcake with flowers

As the loaf cooled, I slid a sharp knife around the edges of the pan and after a tap, the cake came out beautifully. I sliced about a third of it for G. to take next door to his mother and brother when he goes out to tune this afternoon. And of course, I couldn’t resist sharing a slice with G., just to see how it turned out. It was really delicious, a crisp edge, a moist crumb with true lemon flavor sweetened just enough.

Hope the Bruins win tonight! If not, we can still console ourselves with slices of this luscious lemon poppy seed pound cake! Thanks, Melissa Clark!