Next??? Cable TV!

If Food Network and HGTV started a joint new show, it would kind of be my life this week!

A very jiggly batch of local, sustainably raised beef bone broth, courtesy of the Instant Pot electric pressure cooker, delivered to an ailing dog buddy yesterday, on the way to Michael’s for more paintbrushes.

Several requests for the scoop on last week’s dinner party which — Ooops! — I forgot to take pictures of. Fortunately, I needed lunch today so will include details, below.

A very vivid — read that painful — reminder of one of our old family stories on Sunday.

And a welcome hour or so in the company of the late Tony Bourdain while I waited for paint to dry last night.

First, the reason I won’t laugh at an old Dave story anymore.

Dave was 10 when we moved to Tennessee. We lived in the middle of nowhere, between Fayetteville, TN and Huntsville, AL. It was a bit of a change from Atlanta.

No pizza delivery. Minimal grocery stores. A 45 minute round trip to the KFC.

And no stove for the first 4 months we lived there.

We spent a fair amount of time hanging out at TGI Fridays and Red Lobster in Huntsville.

Other than being raised by a foodie dad, this may be one of the big factors in my journey to local food fanatic.

Anyway, one night we went to Red Lobster. I can’t remember what my junior sea food conniseur ordered but he asked for horseradish with it.

Expecting the creamy horseradish sauce he was used to at Fridays, he took an enthusiastic bite.

You’ll have an accurate grasp of what happened next if you recall the old Bill Cosby routine about belly buttons and the kid that flew around the room backwards and landed on the floor, flat as a piece of paper, with “nuthin’ but his ole eyes buggin’ out!”

Straight up, grated horseradish was clearly not what Dave was expecting.

So, Sunday, when the miracle happened and we left the dogs home while we went out to lunch, I ordered sushi at Noodle (Decatur) which is one of my favorite hang outs. Knowing that Bill wouldn’t be home for dinner, I ordered with leftovers in mind.

All was well with the world. About half a Scorpion King roll (which has a lot to do with shrimp and crab and nothing to do with scorpions) with a bit of pickled ginger, plus a hard-boiled egg * and a chopped avocado tossed with capers and trout roe**  plus a pair of chopsticks from our personal stash and I was ready for a feast.

Until a bit of that lovely, organic avocado turned out to be about a pea-sized chunk of straight wasabi.

Dave and Bill Cosby had nothing on me. I literally thought the top of my head would come off. Hence my oath not to laugh about Dave again! (Well, not about the horseradish!!!)

Last night, an awesome pot of soup with beef and pork broth plus some local artisanal sausage from our friends at Pine Street Market and leftover roasted brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and tiny potatoes. With more stashed in the fridge for feeding the Friday lunch crowd.

In the meantime, some staging help  for a friend with a charming house on the market in a great area of town. Some chair seats to recover and art to swap out. Another round of de-personalizing. And some spare linens with a relaxing, Caribbean sort of feel to them.

But, back to my favorite things from the tapas party last week.

We started with assorted French olives and some half-sour pickles from the Farmers Market. A bit of crab broth made of Florida stone crab claws, with a small scoop of rice, some asparagus and bunapi mushrooms, and a bit of trout roe**.

Little canoe shaped endive leaves stuffed with really good, Spanish, Ortiz Bonito del Norte tuna courtesy of our friends at Zingerman’s. You dress yours the way you like it. I do mine with some of the excellent olive oil it’s packed in, fresh lemon juice, finely chopped parsley stems and freshly crushed peppercorns.

And hard-boiled eggs, which I’ve finally figured out how to get right in the Instant Pot! *

Here’s how I do it, in our 8 quart Duo pot:

Add 1 c. water to the inner pot. Place one of those cool egg trivet gizmos, with 7 eggs, into the pot. We use more or less large sized, pasture raised, very fresh local eggs.

Secure the lid and set the pressure release knob to “sealing”.

Set unit to pressure cook on medium pressure for 3 minutes, with the “keep warm” feature turned off.

When it sings the little song that lets you know it’s done cooking, set the timer for 5 minutes of “natural” pressure releasing.

Prepare a bowl of ice water.

After the pressure releases for 5 minutes, switch the valve to “venting” and cover with a kitchen towel. When the little pop-up thing goes down, which will take about 3 – 5 minutes more, open the lid and transfer the eggs to the ice bath with tongs.

I’ll admit, I had to practice a while. I read lots of directions and played with the time. This is the process that leaves me with perfectly done, easy to peel eggs and time to sneak in a bit of painting between steps.

Peel eggs just before serving. I drizzled mine with garlic infused olive oil, added a tiny scoop of the trout roe** and sprinkled with crushed red pepper flakes and a bit of flaky Maldon finishing salt.

Round out your feast with some local, artisanal charcuterie, in this case copa, and crackers, as desired for your guests. I used Georgia Sourdough crackers with sea salt, thanks, again, to Pine Street Market. The gluten-free crackers with seeds work, too.

As for Tony Bourdain, he was in the Dominican Republic enjoying what reminded me of the island version of Chopinno, named for the tradition of everybody chipping in what they had. In this case, somebody had some veg and somebody had some bones and so on. It’s a really good way to eat!

For now, though, back to painting the cosmos. And, probably, me!

 

 

Chickens or Eggs?

Which came first? The chicken or the egg?

I’m betting on the chicken because the egg would have needed somebody to fix a nest and keep it warm!

Oddly, I was pondering this yesterday, in light of the question of depression.

Depression, as the old saying goes, runs in my families.

Heavily genetic on one side.

Possibly more situational on the other.

I have been one of the ones who, in some wild DNA marathon, manages to out run it most of the time.

But, as my old friend Henry Close would remind us, If you’re not depressed sometimes you’re not paying attention!

Apparently, I’ve been paying attention lately.

Here’s what I’ve noticed.

I don’t usually realize that I’m feeling depressed while it’s happening.

What I do notice is when it stops.

Rather like one day deciding to put some new lights in the house because the time for dimness has passed.

Here’s the tricky part…

Do I change things because I feel better or do I feel better because I change things?

I suspect the answer is YES!

Which is to say that both of those things are probably true.

Even something simple like rescuing paint brushes from their canning jars of murky water and washing them can help.

Suddenly, they have hope again. They’re ready to do what they were meant to do.

Brushing the dogs can do it, too, but is a whole lot more tiring!

Lately, I’ve been eating a lot more bone broth. This is big on my list of things that, while they don’t necessarily fix things immediately, can’t possibly hurt.

And, I have a Qigong retreat/tune-up scheduled this summer.

If I had to guess, though, I’d say it was the painting – the Intentional Creativity process I’m learning –  that is calling me beyond paying quite so much attention to all the sad, frustrating, infuriating news in our world and back into a place where I can attend to hope and healing.

Where, just for a moment, every now and then, I can actually be hope and healing.

Now, clearly depression comes in many sizes and colors with different chemical and genetic and contextual factors. There are lots of theories about “causes” and “cures”.

And, if we’re being honest, there’s probably some vested interest at work in some of those theories.

The amazing author and artist known as SARK is fond of  what she calls radical self care.

Healing foods. Long, scented baths. Walking. Time to sleep. Comfort.

She’s convinced me!

And then, as often as possible, a tiny change for the better. (Susan calls them micro-movements.)

There are nearly endless options.

My Feng shui friends say it takes more energy to ignore things that aren’t working than it does to fix them.

Change the burned out bulb. (Ok, I’m on a lighting kick!)

Put some real food in a pretty bowl and skip the drive-up window.

Wear your favorite paint shirt, dried in the sun, all soft and fresh and friendly.

Be gentle with yourself.

Nobody ever got shamed and blamed out of depression.

Ask for help if you feel like it’s bigger than you can handle.

And, along with all the rest, create something.

Today, I will turn on all the lights and paint. (After I wash the brushes!)

More dots. A few words. Still, in many ways, background.

With the help of my new Instant Pot, I will take some crab shells we’ve been saving in the freezer and the fennel Bill’s kindly going to fetch from the Farmers’ Market, and experiment with broth.

There’s thyme in the garden, too!

And, assuming my painting cooperates, I’m planning a nap, complete with Spring Forest Qigong’s Six Word Chant playing softly in the background and enormous dogs snoring gently at my feet.

Chickens or eggs? Who knows?

Just gratitude.

Thanks, Greg Camp! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caution! Grammy learning new things…

It’s 11:00 Saturday night. Having finally caved to peer pressure, I am learning a new skill.

On the surface, it has to do with the shiny new thing that looks a bit like R2D2 parked on my kitchen counter.

Yes, I bought an Instant Pot.

There are several reasons for this adventure and one big one for doing it just now.

I hate to boil eggs.

Ok, boiling them isn’t so bad but peeling them is, well, let’s just say not my favorite thing. It’s even harder when you buy fresh, local eggs.

And I have a lot of eggs to boil this week!

Kelly and the girls arrive tomorrow morning.

The girls will stay for the week, their Spring Break.

We have big plans for painting and baking and maybe sewing and, if history is any indication, a nostalgic chorus or two of This Little Piggy!

We’re also having an Easter egg hunt. “The kind where you hide the eggs, Grammy,” said Taylor.

A few questions later I had established that they do, indeed, want to dye the eggs as well as hunt for them. “Lots of them!”

We also need brunch for tomorrow and, given our various food challenges and the variables involved in air travel on a rainy day, deviled eggs seemed like the obvious choice.

It took a while to figure out how to put the lid on the thing!

Tonight, brown eggs from our local farmer friends, complete with lots of beeping and timing coming from the kitchen.

Assuming that all goes well, white eggs later in the week, suitable for making pretty colors. Dave will be here by then and can help, too!

Their beds are made. Flowers are waiting in the kitchen to be arranged.

Phoebe is resting up for Auntie duty.

My head is spinning.

Have to remember the booster seat for the car. Crossed fingers that I can really count on them not to play in the paint in the middle of the night. Major questions about the weather. At least it’s not likely to snow!

I’m behind on my painting.

And yet, my heart is full.

Our kids and grandkids and the children of our hearts are hope for a world which desperately needs it.

They’re also excellent inspiration for learning new things!

And I am deeply aware that, despite all the things I imagine teaching them while they’re here, I will learn even more.

What a blessing!