Wednesday, November 3, 2010

I've moved!



Packed up my bags and headed across town:

http://dontlosethemoon.wordpress.com



Friday, October 22, 2010

Fall Foray



One of the beauties of having a self-structured work schedule is that, on an excruciatingly beautiful Fall day, you can throw your shovel down and take yourself on a hike. I wouldn't necessarily make a habit out of it; and I definitely wouldn't write it into your business plan, but sometimes it's just gotta happen. Last Tuesday was one of those days. I had made better-than-expected progress on terracing a client's backyard (ripping out sod and putting in veggie beds!) and the call of the crisp air and sunshine became too loud to ignore.

I chose Oyster Dome,a hike I've done a handful of times since I've been in Bellingham and have always enjoyed. An early steep climb is quickly rewarded 2 miles in with an incredible view of the San Juan Islands. On a whim I threw Paul Aurora's All That The Rain Promises And More, a great pocket guide to mushrooms, into my pack (forgetting altogether a water bottle).

I've lived in the Pacific Northwest for 5 years now, and am ashamed at how little I've managed to learn about mushrooms in that time. I'm fascinated by them; I love eating them; I've even grown one of those starter kits of oyster mushrooms. But I've never made a point of meeting them on their home turf and learning who they are.

Tuesday was a great step in that direction. I had so much fun searching for and identifying these little creatures. Some of them look almost extra-terrestrial, but they couldn't be more of this earth. What you see above ground, what we know as mushrooms, are actually the fruiting body - the reproductive bits, if you will - of fungi. They carry tiny spores (often, but not always, in their gills) that are dispersed by the wind (or the hands of humans), hoping to find an environment that suits them. Meanwhile, beneath the surface of the ground, the mycelium - an elaborate webbed structure - is on the prowl for nutrients.

Anyway, that's enough of my limited knowledge of biology. If there's a latent fungi-phile waiting to surface in you, David Aurora and Paul Stammets are two wealths of knowledge and inspiration on the subject. Keep an eye out too for local speakers and foray opportunities; there's nothing like getting out in your own back yard.



Here are some of the characters I got acquainted with on Tuesday:













I have to admit, I'm notorious for looking down while I hike. My lack of coordination combined with my big feet combined with tree roots and stones have occasionally added up to skinned knees and twisted ankles, and I often have to remind myself to look up and take in the beauty of my surroundings. Well, mushroom hunting gave me a bit of an out in that regard. A reason to keep my gaze low and a reminder that there's no shortage of interest and beauty no matter where you look.

That said, lifting my head up came with its own rewards:






And as the clouds move in, threatening an end to the sunny clear days we've been blessed with in this first month of Autumn, these words seem particularly appropriate (if at times hard to embody):


I used to think I needed the sun to have fun. Rain was an inconveninece, something to wait out, not wade in. The farmers needed it. I didn't. Rain meant I couldn't do things. It was the enemy of activity, the bane of beach barbeques, an imposition from above that didn't have the courtesy to call ahead.
Mushrooms changed all that. Now when it rains, I can't wait to get out, to plunge into that pristine, misty realm of glistening freshness and fleeting fragrance to see what new wonders the earth has to offer. The miracle of mushrooms is in their spontaneity and resilience. Springing from ground that looked so hard and bleak, they seem to embody all that we carry, and bury, inside us: secret passions and dormant dreams awaiting inspiration, instigation, and conditions that precipitate growth. Rain has become my catalyst, drawing me up, bringing me out.
I still savor the sun - who doesn't? Rain refreshes, sunshine caresses. But as I bask in the hazy glow of another lazy summer day, my life feels as empty as the sky above, and as surely as the shivering survivors of winter look forward to the spring, I find myself yearning for clouds returning, all that the rain promises, and more...

David Aurora.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Fermentation Station

Who are these mysterious cloaked figures in our kitchen?

Not pictured: 5 gallon crock of sauerkraut


Draped in all kinds of strange cloths, they sit there - for what can seem like ages - emitting interesting smells, attracting the attention of humans and fruit flies alike (hopefully the latter are sufficiently locked out).


Behind Door Number One:


Kombucha
AKA Mushroom Tea
AKA Too Easy (and tasty) NOT To Make Yourself


Ingredients (makes 1 gallon)

1 Kombucha Starter (the "Mother" or "tea beast")
2 Cups Kombucha (from a pre-made batch or from the store)
3 Quarts Water
1 C Sugar (refined white - for whatever reason the yeast loves it! or cane sugar don't use honey)
8tsp (or 8 tea bags) of black tea

Procedure

* Dissolve the sugar in the water in a pot
* Bring the water to a boil; once boiling, turn the water off and add the tea
* Allow the tea to steep for 15 minutes
*Once the liquid has cooled to lukewarm, pour it into an uber clean wide-mouthed gallon jar
* Add the kombucha and the kombucha mother and cover the mouth of the jar with a tea towel and rubber band it tightly over. Trust me, the fruit flies will be more than curious!
* Keep the kombucha in a warm dark place - a kitchen cupboard works great - and test it every now and again.

In 1 - 3 weeks, it should be ready! What is ready? Well, it can vary depending on your tastes - I've had kombucha that was sweet and kombucha that was damn near vinegar! Both, I should note, were delicious! Once you get the hang of your brew, feel free to try different (caffeinated) tea combinations. Occasionally I'll try a green tea/rooibos combo; friends have tried adding ginger and loved it.








And Door Number Two?




Fermented Jalapeno Hot Sauce

Ingredients (Makes 1 ¼ cups)

¾ pounds hot peppers, topped and chopped
2+ cloves garlic
1 ¼ teaspoons salt
2Tbs brown sugar
1/4 cup apple cider or white vinegar
Water, as needed

Procedure

* Blend chiles, garlic, salt and sugar in the food processor until you've got a thick porridge
*Transfer to a glass bowl and cover with cheesecloth or a tea towel; let it sit for 3 or 4 days at room temperature. Look for small bubbles to appear - You might just hear some fizzing! You might, too, see a little mold forming on the surface. Skim it off and move right along!
* Put your mixture and the vinegar in a small pot and bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer for 5 minutes or so.
* Add water - or any additional salt, vinegar, sugar, etc - to adjust the taste and thickness. Feel free to pass it through a food mill if you like a smoother sauce.
* Put your sauce in a jar and refrigerate - watch (and TASTE!) the flavors meld and change.
* Pour liberally on omlettes, stir fries, roasted potatoes, and anything else you can think of!




Here's 5 gallons of Deliciousness bubbling away:


The beginning stage of Hard Apple Cider






Well I guess this is the beginning stage of hard apple cider:











The rest is pretty simple. Pour your cider into a clean carboy and top with an air lock (both available at most brew shops). We added about 3 cups of honey, too, to give the natural yeasts more to feed on (a yeasty kick in the pants) and add some sweetness to the mixture.

The rest is good old fashioned neglect, a key ingredient for so many fermentation adventures. Careful: too much neglect can result in a serious flavor-trashing and mold build-up (oh, sauerkraut '07!). So keep at least a casual eye on your brewing cauldrons; they'll thank you for it with delicious tanginess that will liven up the darkest of winter days.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Recycling Seasons


Alright Fall, I'm ready for you.

Good thing, too, because you started days ago. That's what the calendar says anyway, though the past week has had days showcasing the sunshine of Summer and the cold nights of Winter. My experience with farming has put me more in touch with the cycles of the seasons - and life cycles in general (my own included). I've certainly come to see my own life path as more of a spiral than a straight line (and yes, that's frustrating sometimes). And even the cycles of the seasons (cycles that we've attached to calendar dates and almost linearized) seem to spiral in and out of each other.



Because I'm still eating Summer's raspberries





even as I plan Fall's batch of sauerkraut.



And our greenhouse might be growing Fall and Winter's salad greens



but it's keeping some relics of Summer toasty too.



And several times over this year I've stood over a boiling cauldron of water, doing my best to bring the Summer Bounty into Winter with me.







INGREDIENTS

* Ripe, Firm Peaches: 5 large peaches is usually enough to fill a quart jar.
Choose "freestone" varieties - they don't cling to their pits.

* Honey Syrup: Light = 1 1/2 C Honey: 4C Water
Medium = 2C Honey: 4 C Water

(I needed about 1 1/2 - 2 Cups Syrup per Quart)


DIRECTIONS

* Sterilize canning jars and lids and get your canner water heating.

* Prepare the syrup by heating the honey and water together until the honey is dissolved. While it's heating, start to peel the peaches.

* I used a knife to peel the peaches, but I have seen a couple of websites that recommend doing a quick blanch (30 seconds - 1 minutes) in boiling water and then quickly submerging the peaches in cold water to stop the cooking. Definitely a faster method, though I was a little worried about making the peaches too soft. Doesn't seem to be a problem, though you should definitely choose firm peaches to begin with.

* Halve the peaches and pack them cavity-side down in hot quart jars.

* Pour hot syrup over the peaches (this helps them not to brown too, so the sooner after you've peeled them, the better!) leaving a 1/2 inch of headspace.

* Wipe your jar rims clean, remove all of the air bubbles you can, put on the lids.

* Process in a water bath canner for 30 minutes
(25 minutes for pints).



This is one of the easiest and most delicious canning projects I've done. The peaches didn't get soft in the canning process. The light syrup was plenty sweet - and not too honey-ey - for the peaches (and tastes great on pancakes later: peach-infused syrup!). Planning on a repeat project with pears soon!

Bev Does BHam


Did that all just happen? Time flew by, as it tends to do - especially when you're having fun, during my mom's weeklong visit to the great Pacific Northwest. More specifically: YurtTown, USA. In the 5 years I've lived in Washington (an anniversary marked in just a few days), my mom has made her way across the country to visit each year and each home - 5 different homes now. In fact, it was 5 years ago that the two of us hopped into Donna-Jo, my old Honda Accord, and road-tripped it out here to move me into my first post-college apartment (4047!) for my first post-college job with EarthCorps.

But that's ancient history.

This year my mom and I once again made sure to "squeeze the juice out" of our time together. We woke up each morning in the yurt with no agenda, but tons of possibilities. We went on walks and picked the blueberries that would grace our morning pancakes. We met up with friends, some new and some of the 2005 vintage, for delicious dinners and equally delicious conversation. We weeded the garden and entertained the chickens, went to the beach and read Still Life with Woodpecker to each other. We celebrated the coming of Fall without lamenting the passing of Summer.

When I woke up Sunday morning, there was once again the expanse of this ridiculously wide country between the two of us. And while I might have spent some time feeling badly about that, my mom's reminders to "make lemonade" got me back on track. So happy we got to share time and space together. Till next time.



Horseshoes at Cama Beach.


Pancake breakfast with the last of the season's blueberries.







Riverside Interpretive Dance.







Sunday, September 26, 2010

Playing Catch-Up

A few weeks ago now I went back to Michigan to celebrate the marriage of my oldest friend, Erica, and her partner Greg. Erica and I have known each other for over half of our lives, and it meant so much to be part of such an important event for her and her growing family. The pictures don't capture the building fun and excitement of the weekend, the beauty of the wedding, the [knees-shaking] toast I gave (aided heavily by Tom Robbins), or the time my mom and Erica's dad stole the show on the dance-floor when Stayin' Alive came on. Incredible. Erica, Greg, you two are certainly off to a great start - Congratulations and all the best!



Bridesmaids and the Bride-to-Be

Meet the Morin's.

Erica, McKenna, and Mario

Cate makes a great wedding date.





Thursday, September 16, 2010

Cloudview Revisited

Last weekend Neil, Chris and I crossed over the mountains and over the Columbia to spend time at our old farm and home, Cloudview. This was Chris' first time there, and, for Neil and I, it had been nearly a year since we last visited. I say I don't know how I let that much time pass; and in ways I don't. But a closer look reveals: Life. Work and play and the busyness they add up to. What I take heart in is that no matter how long it has been since I last visited, I am always greeted with a spirit of inclusiveness and an abundance of good people and good food. On top of that, it is inspiring and fulfilling to know that a project I have put so much work and love into continues on - and grows. And thrives.


But thousands of carrots don't leave you too much time to get sentimental.


So we got our hands dirty and the carrots clean.





We got to know the faces of the flora and fauna.




We explored the beauty of the landscape and talked about future projects.





We sold the only products I've ever felt happy to market.





And we spent some time taking in the views from our old home.






Ok, so there's always time to get sentimental - and nostalgic, too. My year at Cloudview was one of the most transformative - and true - experiences of my life. It connected me to people I hold dear and to a community that, even as it grows, still includes me. My trips back are reminders that the values that I started to cultivate there are still resonating both within and outside of me. And while I'm still looking for the project (moreover the opportunity for a lifestyle) that will callus my hands, strengthen my spirit and leave me exhaustedly fulfilled, Cloudview makes me certain that it's out there - and it's possible.