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Category: Sustenance

Fun Things

A friend and I went on a little adventure last weekend. We drove down to Brevard, North Carolina, to see the Embroidery Guild of America's 21st National Exhibit. This was our destination:

We didn't know what to expect, and we drove past the building the first time. It was well worth the visit, and many works were incredibly beautiful, showing great technical proficiency and creativity. I didn't really understand some of the pieces, but the creativity amazes and inspires me.

Photography was not allowed. I bought the catalog so that I could remember things that inspired me. The back cover is shown above. Below is a promotional photo from the exhibit. Oddly, none of these were my favorite pieces. I know the exhibit will be traveling. I highly recommend it.

The workmanship was so inspiring that I came home and spent the next afternoon ripping stitches out on a piece I had been working on. I had been dithering as to whether or not it mattered, but it does.

We took the scenic route down, through the Pisgah National Forest. It was a slow winding road, but quite beautiful. Just outside the park we had lunch at a bicycle shop/tavern. The food came from a Lebanese Food truck and was incredibly good. I couldn't help but think about how much the world has changed in the last half-century. We took the "fast" route home, on the interstate. But it took us the same amount of time. Perhaps it is just the "fast" route because you are moving faster, not because you reach your destination any faster.

Last week I also made garam masala for the first time since I moved. One part of me can't believe I have lived here for over three months and am only now making garam masala. But at the same time I also noticed that I had not used either dried basil, tarragon, or oregano yet either. These are spices that I usually go through quite regularly. There were some additions to the herb and spice rack this week.

Perhaps summer food simply cries out for fresh herbs. I don't believe the fresh and the dried are interchangeable. Their uses, and their flavors are very similar, but not quite identical. Perhaps, now that it feels more like fall, I feel like cooking food that allows the flavors of dried herbs to shine.

Expanding the spice rack while still recovering from a cold/sinus thing, gave me a perfect excuse to fritter away part of an afternoon making matching labels for all my jars.

I'm trying something different. I am a bit overextended at the moment, and I have been struggling with blogging anyway. I don't want to give it up, but it seems I've become to stuck in one place, blog-wise, and I want to venture out. I'm giving myself permission to not stick to a schedule. I'm also going to try a few different things, like this post, and see what happens.

Until next time,.

September 13, 2017
Food for Thought and Thoughts about Food and Cooking: August Books

Very little reading was done during the last few days of August. In fact, none, despite the fact that I piled books up around my reclining chair. The books mostly acted as a supporting table for a box of kleenex while I watched tv or dozed. Rather than books, my companions were average but entertaining movies and all three seasons of Grace and Frankie.

The last book I started was Days Without End by Sebastian Barry, but, although the novel is incredibly poignant, and beautifully written, the opening sections of the novel were, in fact, too slowly meandering and lyrical for my sinus congested brain to latch onto. Luckily, it is also a book that is easy to put down and equally easy to pick up later, even a week later.

In many ways the book unfolds the way a life unfolds, the way the American prairie unfolds. In that it is a uniquely American novel, although the time and the place are captured in a way that perhaps no modern American could, suffused as we are with our own history, our own sense of being American. Of course we have to remember that "America" as experienced by McNulty and John Cole is itself a more elusive concept than the more defined nationalism we carry today. The book is unflinching in the brutality that occurs, but also equally open-handed with love and community building, in its tenderness, yes, its tenderness. The writing is deceptively simple, and although the book is at times shocking, what might be most important about this story is what is not said, or more exactly the way it is not said. This is the story of one man's journey. It deals with his life, with the complexity of what it means to be human, and with the dangers of seeing people as the other, with gender fluidity, with race, poverty, and love. And yet the novel doesn't actually address any of these things and this may be its greatest strength, the way it seeps under you skin — subtly, quietly, and with humanity.

Days Without End is the fourth of the books listed for the Man Booker Prize that I have read. (Elmet and History of Wolves, here)(Lincoln in the Bardo, here) I read more novels than anything else in August, and that makes me very happy. Although I can't bring myself to read novels exclusively, my mind is too peripatetic for that, I am happiest when my reading is more heavily weighted toward fiction as opposed to non-fiction. Of the novels I read in August, Elmet, Where Roses Never Die, and Karin Slaughter's The Good Daughter were the ones I most enjoyed reading. Slaughter is another author who is new to me, but then the genre is something I have only recently begun to explore as well. It is a good story and with excellent and gentle development of deeply flawed and traumatized characters.

On other fronts, I read two cookbooks although I didn't cook from either of them. Squirrel Pie is about food traditions and the way those traditions reflect their cutlures. There are recipes I may cook someday but that really isn't why I love the book. Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Practical Pantry, is about preserving food and I loved reading it although I haven't cooked anything from it either.

Years ago, in what feels like a former life, I used to make jams and preserves, chutneys, pickles, vinegars and syrups. I look back on that self now and think I had much energy. And yet, I'd still like to think that I might again preserve some of my food. I like the idea of preserving the best of what is local, the idea of making. Even though the act of canning, drying, preserving in any way is not the simplest thing to do in any modern sense, in any sense in a world where it is easy to jump in a car and buy almost anything, in my mind it ties to something simpler, to being more connected to what fuels us and drives our lives.

I do make kimchi and sauerkraut. I make the occasional pickle. I ate some fabulous kohlrabi pickles with my lunch yesterday. I put them up last fall when I had a glut of habanero chiles. After the initial fermentation the pickles were hot and spicy, now they still have a little echo of that habanero heat, but the fruitiness of the pepper is more evident. I find this evolution, the process of fermentation and change, fascinating. Increasingly I also want the deliberate slowness and connection that I see as the promise of this book. It speaks of the simplicity of taking some sense of ownership in what is essential to our own lives, and what is in fact essential to life itself, not to our man-made world but to the world in which our cells and bodies, our food belong. In my mind, this book is filled with promise.

Or perhaps it is not really the book itself, merely that it acts as a jumping off point for my own thoughts. Much as I think about connection to the earth, I am not about to ditch civilization and move to a parcel of land and attempt to live off the grid. That is not me. Instead I am thinking about a new stove. I do not like my current stove. I loved the induction cooktop at my former house. I had far more control over temperature and heat with it than I do with my current Jenn-Air stove. I realize that this is the fault of the stove, which is old, not the fact that it is gas. And although I also realize that learning to cook on gas is itself a process, my mother's gas stove (Kenmore?) is far more useable than this, fancier, stove in my new house.

All my adult life I wanted a gas stove. I couldn't have it in Hyde Park, not without completely gutting half the house and starting over. The kitchen was in the middle of the house and building codes forbad gas in that circumstance; besides bringing the gas line down from the street would have involved blasting through hundreds of feet of rock. And yet I have never had as much meticulous control over heat as I had on my induction cooktop in the Moss Creek House. What do I want? If I get an induction cooktop, I would have to use an electric water bath canner, and could not use a pressure canner, since they are not made for induction. Canners really shouldn't be used on glass cooking surfaces anyway. Realistically speaking, will I ever use a canner? Or is this just some idle dream? An obscure dream is no reason to make a decision, and yet the sorting out of dreams is part of the process, my process at least.

Did I tell you that I'm the kind of person who will mull over this decision for some time? Even when I seem to make snap decisions, extensive background mulling and fretting has been swirling about beneath the surface. There is plenty of time. In the meantime, my current stove and I are slowly defining the terms of a truce.

September 7, 2017
I’m Late, I’m Late…. A Catch-Up Post

Do you ever have days where you've been working steadily all day and yet, when the day is done, you still can't tell that you've accomplished anything? Yesterday was one of those days. Although I know that I did accomplish things, and take time out for a couple of walks and to see the eclipse, I still feel like I was treading water. Oh well, sometimes we struggle just to stay in place and other times we soar…..

Or perhaps I am just feeling that I am not living up to my intentions, not that I am a person who has ever had reasonable expectations for herself. I've been home a week now, and today is the first day that I feel that I am completely back to normal, whatever normal is. It is the first day I awoke at my normal time without an alarm, the first morning I focused easily rather than muddling about befogged.

Anyway, I missed Saturday's post, because I was up late Friday, into Saturday morning really, starting to unpack the sewing room and move some heavy furniture around so that a friend could come over and the loom could finally be assembled. I had thought that I would be more organized than I was, that I would have transition time, but that didn't really happen until Friday. It was late by the time that I realized that Saturday was the very next day. It appears I can no longer keep up the pace of my youth, or perhaps it is simply that I no longer care to do so.

The photo is taken from the doorway into the room. The heavy cabinets that form a work/cutting table were in the corner where the loom is now, but this arrangement works better. In fact, this is almost how I originally had it drawn out on paper, at least in terms of the cutting table, but on moving day it somehow turned out differently. I thought I could make it work, but I couldn't. And there I was, instead of being reasonable and planning in advance, moving furniture around at 1 in the morning. Obviously I still have to finish unpacking but now that the big weight, literal and figurative as well, has been taken care of, it all seems possible once again.

After the loom was assembled I realized I still had time to make it to the Market Square Farmer's Market. I had missed the previous three weeks due to travel plans and I really needed to go. I figured the vendors would be packing up, and they were, but there were still options. When George and I went to the Rhinebeck market every week, we would walk around, I would think about what I might cook, then we would take a second trip around buying what we wanted. I would go home, plan a list, and we would hit the grocery store for any ancillary supplies. It doesn't work out quite that way in my life now, for a plethora of reasons. A big one is that I am cooking for one most of the time, although I am looking forward to entertaining more.

Instead I tend to go to the market with a sort of matrix written out on paper. It includes things I have and need or want to use, current ideas that are floating around in my head, and so forth, but none of it is really prescribed. Once I get to the market things may change radically, or not at all, depending on what I see and what inspires me. This particular trip my choices were a refinement of the rough plan on paper. I don't actually know why the matrix above was so pork-centric, except perhaps I was hoping to stop at JEM farm, which has good pork, and probably also because last week's meals seemed to revolve around beef and chicken. I'm better at balance in the grand scheme than in a narrow frame of reference.

Going in with a plan works because I am less likely to get carried away by wanting to make everything I see, and then being overwhelmed after I get home and the week becomes busy. I can plan to cook, but I can also intentionally leave gaps for those days or times when I just want something simple, nourishing, and relatively effortless. I eat better, and am happier, when I cook, but cooking is much more fun when I am cooking for someone. I'm still working on balance.

I did not try to take a picture of the eclipse. I just sat out and enjoyed it. I didn't travel either, but that was mostly because I needed to stay home for a delivery. It was still wonderful. And I am fortunate because I remember the 1979 eclipse. This time I think I was more attuned to the minute changes in the fauna as we proceeded through the stages of the eclipse than I was at the tender age of 20, but that is probably because I simply am increasingly more attuned to those small details. I listened to the birds and the insects and watched a pair of bobwhites come out from hiding on the edge of the lawn. I love watching the birds in my new neighborhood, but Monday morning had been the first time I had see bobwhites. Just seeing them somehow makes me think of fall.

I didn't see the bobwhites this morning on our walk. But the sunrise was beautiful. Tikka and I were out early and got to watch it from its first early glimmers. Have a lovely day.

August 22, 2017
Five Things Friday

1. In June I went to the Daylilly Festival at Oakes Daylilies with friends. It poured almost the entire time we were there or I might have shared the adventure with you. Even though I have basically said that I am not planting, at least not planting perennials I did come home with a couple of medium to short daylilies, which I new would happily fit in a couple of bare areas in the front, areas the previous owner had filled with annuals.   Two of those daylilies have put out buds, one of them bloomed Wednesday.

Oddly the two daylilies that seem determined to bloom are the two that did not look like they were adapting well. We have had a lot of rain, at least through the first week of July, and these areas were perhaps a little more waterlogged than daylilies prefer.    Then again, perhaps it is not odd, a plant, I suppose, like any living thing, wants to reproduce. I wonder if the plant has enough gumption left for me to transplant it, or given that we are currently in a dry period, if it is best to leave it where it is to recover, waiting to transplant in the early fall, before the rains probably recommence.

2. Tikka and I are out on adventure. The contractors have been busy working at my house since yesterday morning. Due to the nature of the work being done, we were asked to vacate for a couple of days, so we have wandered over to Asheville. North Carolina. Tikka is a pretty good travel companion, happy to rest quietly in a hotel room, as long as we stick more or less to our normal routine of meals and walks, which is not difficult to do, and even though summer camp is fun, I think she'd rather go than be left behind.

3. Yesterday evening, the plan had been that I would walk Tikka and then go back out for dinner, but downtown Asheville seems to be a pretty dog-friendly place. Tikka is a very social girl, mostly well-behaved, but social nonetheless, and she loved the opportunity to meet her four-legged compatriots, as well as to stop and say hello to anyone who said "hello cutie" and asked if they could pet her. We were out for a while and somehow ended up stopping at a place with a lovely shaded patio and some nearby musicians. I stayed for dinner without taking Tikka home first. She got her water bowl and settled happily under the table, while our menus were brought out. Yes, our menus, as there was a doggie menu as well. Alas Tikka had already dined, although she might well have preferred a bison burger with quinoa.

4. We had arrived in the early afternoon, after spending an extra hour and a half on the freeway due to an accident in the middle of a construction site, and I was tired and hungry. I found a tapas bar, where I had a lovely glass of chilled Albariño, and a couple of small plates, one of which was the lovely, and delicious, plate of sardines shown above.

5. Sated, and probably foolish, I meandered back to the hotel.   I passed a store filled with looms and yarn and fibers for knitting and felting, basket making supplies, dyestuffs, and all kinds of fabulous things. I don't have my own studio set up yet, or my loom, but I am eager to learn and play. I wandered around, contented to let myself remain dazed. I'm not ready for more supplies, I just needed to observe the riches. I kind of like this jumbled photo of multiple looms, looking outward onto the street because it captures my sense of dazed abundance, exactly what I wanted to remember from that first visit.

My midday walk was foolish because I neglected to apply sunscreen when Ileft the hotel to go to lunch, and although I probably only spent about 15 minutes or so in the sun, and another 20-30 following my meal, (already after 3) I did get a sunburn. I had applied sunscreen before leaving Knoxville, since I have a history of melanoma, but that had been hours before, and the altituide is higher as well, although I do not know if it is enough to make a difference. It may be. I recognize that I have been growing more lax over the years with sunscreen, and I do struggle with the issues of burning, vs UVA (more likely implicated in melanoma), vs vitamin D absorption. Although I haven't burnt in day to day activities, I've noticed that even though I apply a broad spectrum sunscreen daily, and wear a sun protective shirt if I work I the yard during the hours when the sun is high, I have gotten a little more color than usual on my arms and chest just from day to day short-term exposure. I've bee lax, and this is a reminder that I need to improve.

July 21, 2017
Adventures in Cooking

By the time I moved I was ready to cook. I'd been eating out for most of a month, and frankly, although I had needed to cook in order to eat when I was packing up the old house, most of that cooking was extremely basic. It had been months since I had cooked just for the sake of cooking and I was ready to play.

My cookbook collection was unpacked early on, along with the kitchen, and although there were lots of old favorites I could have made, I was also eager to try something new. I wasn't quite sure where to start however, and I was feeling, rather oddly, unsure of myself in the kitchen. I read about the Food52 cookbook club somewhere, and since their June cookbook would be any of the works by Yotam Ottolenghi, books I already own, I thought that joining would be just the inspiration I needed.

And participating in the group did give me the push I needed, at least initially. I started off making the Cucumber and Poppy Seed Salad from Ottolenghi: The Cookbook. I really liked the salad. I altered the recipe slightly, using sweet-hot peppadew peppers rather than the ones called for simply because I had them on hand and needed to use them up. I've made the recipe several times since, both as written and with the peppadews, and think I prefer the peppadew version. It is a nice alternative from my usual Thai-style cucumber salad.

Then I floundered a bit. Mostly this was just the repercussions of cooking for one. Most recipes are written for 4 to 6 servings, leaving me with leftovers. I also hadn't really stocked my pantry yet, having intentionally run the cupboards bare before moving, and having this idea that I would simply restock as I needed items. But shopping every time you want to cook gets to be a bit of a drag as well, and there were days that, by the time I drove around locating ingredients, I was too tired to cook.  The result was less culinary experimentation than I had hoped. Still, I was determined to continue trying new things.

I had purchased My French Family Table by Béatrice Peltre on a bit of a whim; I don't, after all, need more cookbooks but this one looked really appealing. I baked the rolls I posted earlier in the month.   After purchasing couple of bunches of radishes at the farmer's market, I made Peltre's radish greens soup. I love radishes and hate to waste edible food, but hadn't found a way to cook the greens that I consistently loved.  The soup was delicious but a little heavy on the potato for my taste. The second time around I increased the proportion of radish greens relative to potato slightly, not so much that I lost the silkiness of the finished soup, and liked the soup much better. Perhaps I went a little overboard on the sliced radish garnish in the photo above. It is difficult not to get carried away with the delicacy of spring radishes after all, and since this had been a rather wet spring and early summer, the radishes have been exceptional.

My next adventure was with a dish from Ottolenghi's newest book, Nopi. I had seen fresh soft-shell crabs in one of the markets, and was excited as I usually see pre-cleaned crabs which are none too fresh. That was one of my first shocks moving to Knoxville, it never occurred to me that a soft shell crab, even if cleaned, wouldn't be absolutely fresh. Of course I didn't ask either. But anyway, onward.

I tried a more ambitious dish called Soft Shell Crab with Sweet Black Pepper Sauce, Okra, and Cinnamon Pickled Cucumber. It wasn't actually that difficult as the pepper sauce and cucumber can be made ahead, and the preparation for the crab is fairly simple. The problem was that it was a lot of work for a dish that I wasn't all that thrilled with. Mostly I didn't like the crab, and I should have known better. The recipe calls for the crab to be dredged in cornstarch and then fried. I know from experience, and should have remembered, that I don't really like fried soft-shell crab unless it is dredged in cornmeal. I like the contrast of the crunchy cornmeal and the soft crab. Whether that is a New England thing, related to my living in the Northeast for so long, or related to my love of cornmeal crusted fried catfish from my Texas childhood, I don't know. But I've tried various alternative techniques before, and I've always been disappointed.

Then there were the sides. The okra was fabulous and I will make it again. The technique is much like the one used for cooking pimientos de padron, simple and brilliant. The flavor on the cinnamon picked cucumber was also good; it was flavored with a syrup made with cinnamon and star anise, a little sweeter than I usually prefer, but quite wonderful. I didn't feel the long ribbons of cucumber worked well, although it is possible that I simply made them too thin. But I made the pickle again, using a mandolin to make thin slices, and was happier with the results, but I didn't take another picture. As much as I enjoyed the cinnamon cucumbers, I'm not sure how often I will go to the trouble to make them when I am just as happy with simple sliced cucumbers.

The other problem was with the Sweet Black Pepper Sauce. My sauce really had no real sweetness to it; in fact it was rather salty and overpowering compared to the delicacy of the crab. Now, although I followed the recipe exactly, this may have been at least partially due to the quality of the ingredients I used. I try to get the best I can, but there were several things which may not be the same in gluten-free versions. But I had extra sauce and I wondered if it would work well with other dishes.

In the long run the sauce surprised me. It is the one dish that may eventually end up being a staple in my kitchen. After 24 hours it had mellowed substantially, and the flavor softened and developed a rich subtle umami which continued to develop over time.   I think it would be good on several different kinds of meat, but this month, in the flurry of unpacking and work and sometimes general tiredness, I found it worked wonderfully on a simple burger. I've used up that first batch of (still not so sweet) Sweet Black Pepper Sauce. I probably need to make another batch.

So the failed crab dish put me off experimentation for a little bit, and I was trying to use up groceries anyway. The next time I was inspired to cook, I was once again leaning toward Peltre. I wanted to try her Chicken Drumsticks with Spices and Coconut Milk. I am always looking for a good drumstick recipe. Drumsticks are not necessarily my favorite part of the chicken, but at the same time I feel strongly that if we are going to be conscientious about living on this earth, and caring for its resources, we need to encourage nose-to-tail (or leaf-to-root, in the case of radishes) eating. That means if I'm going to eat chicken I can't just eat the breasts and the thighs.

When the two local farms from which I buy chickens have birds I buy whole birds. I often cut them up, which means the drumsticks accumulate, as I use the breasts and thighs more routinely, and the backs and wings often go into my chicken stock, as do chicken feet when I can get them.  In late May and early June there were no local chickens so I bought packaged organic chicken. Just buying packaged chicken is no excuse, at least for me, for avoiding the less desirable parts.   Anyway, I bought drumsticks, organic drumsticks and tried Peltre's recipe; it was fabulous.

So there you have it, a month's experimentation. Some things I will make again: radish greens soup, chicken drumsticks, perhaps black pepper sauce. Some things, like the quinoa rolls and the two cucumber salads will be made less often, partially because I consider them treats, but also because they are really dishes that need to be shared. I have no regrets, but I also need to get a little more settled. Cooking is fun, but it is most fun when you are feeding others. That is the next step.



June 29, 2017
A Perfect Start to the Morning

Somehow, in the midst of unpacking, and rearranging a few cabinets in my kitchen and pantry so that they were more efficient to work with, I got distracted and obsessed.

As a result, the house is filled was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread this morning.

I hadn't really planned on baking. I hadn't baked for quite some time, but there is something about the new house that makes me want to play. Or maybe I just wanted to avoid the annoying problem of what I'm going to do with my books between now and the time that custom bookcases can be made. It is proving to be a more complex problem than I had originally anticipated.

And so it came to pass, that when I was looking up Béatrice Peltre's recipe for radish greens soup, I got distracted by the recipe for quinoa and oat bread rolls. I ended up spending too much time searching for the ingredients for the rolls, but now think the results were worth the effort. Of course it would all have been easier if I had basic gluten-free baking supplies in my pantry, or I had given myself more time for planning. But I wanted to make bread, and I didn't really want to wait, by which point the inspiration would surely have fled.

I enjoyed the first roll with my breakfast, sitting outside on the deck, enjoying the cool morning air, a cup of coffee, and a tender crisp warm roll with my eggs. A perfect moment. The roll lived up to all my expectations, crisp outer crust, tender interior filled with air pockets, wonderfully complex bread flavor, and gluten- and dairy-free to boot. I'm taking the rest of the rolls to a luncheon today, but I will surely be making them again.

June 8, 2017
Three Things Thursday

A minor set back or two this morning, and I need a tiny break, a few deep breaths. No boxes will be unpacked today.

1. This is the view from my desk, where I am perching on the edge of the chair, a chair I am sharing with Moisés, who is still adapting to the fact that his world has been completely transformed while he was away. I am perching on the end, because if I scoot further back, said cat will bite my backside. I'll dump him out later, but for now, I am willing to concede a little space.

It is a nice, hidden place to be this morning, even though this is not the permanent location of my desk. But it is a good temporary space, and a good place for settling in. I can see glimmers of cars, of people walking or running by, but I remain hidden. This sun room is a room I will spend much time in. My needlework chair is already here, and there will be a sofa, and hopefully many hours creatively spent with either thread or a good book.

2. Homemade breakfast in my own dining room.

Sometimes things just come together in the most wonderful ways. A couple of eggs and a slice of ham were joined by a tablespoon of gremolata (sans anchovy), a third of an avocado, and a couple of slivered peppadew peppers, all remnants from the previous evening's dinner party,combined to make a delicious breakfast. The added seasoning was the memories of fellowship evoked by those bright and cheerful flavors.

3. Late afternoon light looking in to the sewing room. Yet unpacked but full of promise.

June 1, 2017
Recovery

I am taking the sunshine cure in Dallas. Idle hours were whiled away yesterday, basking in the sunshine and dry air, twirling in my mothers hanging chaise. It was probably the best thing my sinuses have experienced yet this year, as I have continued to battle the dregs of the sinus crud that ended 2016 and forced me to bed for the beginning of 2017.

Alas this respite will be short-lived; hopefully it will be enough to get us over the hump, my sinuses and I, as we will be back in the cold and damp tomorrow. We've been functioning fairly well except for the aforementioned residual congestion that just doesn't completely clear up. But perhaps not as well as I've claimed, since I've taken to thinking of my sinuses as an evil twin I must tolerate begrudgingly at that, an evil twin who keeps me from doing what I want to do. There were further setbacks this weekend, although whether this was due to over-activity or the return of seeping dampness remains undetermined.

The overdoing is my own fault, not that I am complaining. I wouldn't undo a moment.

Friday night was symphony night, and it was Friday night that my congestion began to return. In this case I do blame the weather, as the air had turned markedly damp in the late afternoon. But the concert was a delight. The concert opened with Sarka, the third segment of Bedrich Smetana's Ma Vlast, which was delightfully performed, and which was followed by a gorgeous rendition of Sibelius' Violin Concerto in D Minor, performed by violinist Bella Hristova. The performance was a delight of precision and cooperation, of fresh and confident phrasing, and gentle storytelling which carried the audience away.

I was however so congested at the intermission I considered going home, although I did not. I am glad that I stayed for the performance of Dvorak's Symphony No. 6 in D Major which was beautifully and lushly performed, with excellent balance between the woodwinds and the strings and rousing finale, which of course roused the audience as well. It was a lovely performance of this, the least performed of Dvorak's final 4 symphonies. It was not my favorite rendition, as I realize that I tend to lump performances of this work into two "camps", the lush, almost sonorous camp and the light and sparkling camp. You might not be surprised to learn that my preference is for the latter, not that I would turn down the opportunity to hear this symphony, regardless of interpretation. . Or perhaps this was simply the congestion speaking, and the way it lulled my body into somnolence when it yearned for a little gentle ebullience. Either way I am happy I stayed.

Saturday the Davis and Fehrenbach clan trekked off to Johnson City to see the Harlem Globetrotters. It was a wonderful, if exhausting day, and we played tag with the Globetrotters bus at least part of the way back to Knoxville, which seemed to be almost as much of a thrill to a 10-year old as the game itself. Oh yes, some part of me does remember those days.

Sunday concluded with a feast of my brother's fabulous ribs. Really, every time I come to Dallas I wonder why I eat barbecue anywhere else, as his is the best I've had anywhere, at least as far as I can recall. Then I remember. I live in Tennessee. Oh well.

Have a great week.

January 24, 2017
Weekend Review: Doing Much, Doing Little, and a Wizard Redux

The past weekend was a busy one, and although most of the busyness, at least on my part, was of the driving or sitting and watching with rapt attention variety, it was still enough for me, as I continue to recover from whatever it was I had. I never had a fever, so I never had blood work, and don't know if I had the flue or anything serious; more likely just a series of unfortunate sinus infections and unfortunate setbacks caused by doing too much too soon. But it could have been worse, and given my own tendency to not go to the doctor, I'll never know. The hardest part now is admitting that, although I am no longer sick, I am still tired, and that it is ok to tell myself not to do things, especially when those are things I would really like to do even though I know there would be consequences.

But on to the weekend. Saturday was the first Winter Farmer's Market of 2017, and as you can see above, I managed to pick up some lovely vegetables. I had also arranged to pick up my meat CSA from Jem Farm and was ready, sturdy bag in tow. The timing proved to be most propitious as somehow the available cuts proved to be exactly what was needed for the meals I had been dreaming of cooking. And, having recovered enough to cook, and finding myself with an almost empty larder, much of that local goodness has already been put to use, becoming stock, and soup and a large pot of spaghetti sauce.

There wasn't much time for cooking on Saturday however. I actually squeezed my farmer's market trip in between my grandson's basketball game and his black belt test. After basketball, where Owen scored twice, I headed east toward downtown to the farmer's market, shopped as efficiently as possible and headed home with my loot, only to head way out west to the tae kwon do studio for the test. Owen did fabulously well, and it was fun to watch and admire the focused young man he is becoming, and think about how far he has progressed since I would take him to TKD lessons 2 years ago..

After the test, we all headed out for a late and well deserved lunch. I had planned on going to the 4:05 showing of Fences, and since it was nearly 3 by the time we finished lunch and headed off on our separate ways, I thought I would stay in town. Luckily I had a book with me.

Or perhaps not so lucky after all, as I ended up not going to the movie. One of the books I am currently reading is Ronald C. White's biography of US Grant, American Ulysses, and it was the book I had with me that afternoon. Perhaps it was not the best choice. I love the book and am finding it fascinating, but on Saturday afternoon I started reading about the battle of Shiloh, and I got so involved in the reading, and the memories reading about the battle evoked, memories of going to the Shiloh battlefield site, of walking those fields, one of the most haunted and holy places I have ever been. In the end, although I was aware of the time, I couldn't go to the movie. Instead I went home and took a long walk with Tikka, and settled for a lovely dinner of salmon, bok choy and oyster mushrooms accompanied by more reading.

Sunday was another busy day, more running around, a couple of social gatherings and my grandson's school play. Once again I managed to take a walk, slightly less successfully this time, as the humidity was high, and the dampness in the air brought on a prolonged coughing fit which required me to sit back and rest for far longer than I would have liked.

I did make it to the play however, and had a fabulous time. I do think it was the best production I had seen yet, and the production and the set where charming and imaginative. Besides, how can anyone complain about seeing the Wizard of Oz twice, in two separate (and markedly different) productions in little over a week?

Owen really seemed to enjoy himself in the dual role of Professor Marvel/The Wizard, and it was a joy to watch him in the play. I admit I enjoyed my doting grandma role as well, snapping pictures like crazy, applauding and smiling constantly at all the perfect details.

Lucky, Lucky Me.

January 18, 2017
Five Things Friday

Let's see if I can eke out five things before the day is completely over. It is hard, given my general state of exhaustion and distraction of late.

1. Saturday night I went with friends to the Knoxville Symphony's Pops Concert, where we saw the movie The Wizard of Oz with live accompaniment   Despite that the fact that the resolution on the screen wasn't all that good, and the soundtrack as it was played in theater, with the original singing wasn't stellar either, the performance as a whole was fabulous. Well, the score is marvelous to begin with, and watching the movie while hearing the music being performed live was a stunning experience. I don't think I had ever seen The Wizard of Oz on a big screen, and although I saw it every year of my childhood, it had been many years since my last viewing.

I had forgotten how surreal and, at times, downright weird that movie is. Of course that is part of the key to its success, the way it appeals to universal themes and yet doesn't succumb to deeply to pat stereotypes. We can all learn a little something from the Wizard of Oz. It seems I am still learning. Of course children know this, know many things we adults have forgotten, know that home is safety and comfort and that the wild bright world "out there" is simultaneously vibrant and alluring, yet filled with dangers, with the overall too-muchness of it. Hence when Dorothy returns home, she learns that she can conquer her own fears, but she also returns to a black and white world. For a while I thought this was a bad thing, that the returned too world should be some half-way point on the color spectrum, but now I appreciate the security of it, of what we all long for, the security of home.

2. I've slept in my own bed for the last two nights, the first two nights this year! This means that I can actually, finally, breathe well enough that I am not spending the night propped up in a chair or recliner, and I cannot begin to explain what a huge difference this has made in terms of regaining a sense of normalcy. As a reward for sleeping, I even took a moderate walk today and it felt wonderful to be out and move, even if I did not manage as much activity as I otherwise would have preferred.

3. Wednesday I attended a chamber music concert, something that is generally much more in keeping with my musical inclinations. The highlight of the program was Bach's Concerto for Violin and Oboe, which was stunningly beautiful, not that the playing in the other pieces was a disappointment either. We heard Mozart's Quintet for Clarinet and Strings, and "Spring" from the Four Seasons. The Vivaldi was the weakest piece in the evening's performance, with the slightest hint of hesitancy and disconnect in the strings, probably corrected by the second performance on Thursday night. But the strings redeemed themselves in the later two pieces, especially in the conversational intimacy and playfulness Gordon Tsai and Gabrield Lefkowitz brought to the Mozart.

4. I have finally gotten back to reading the first of Elena Ferrante's Neapolitan Novels, My Brilliant Friend, and I am thoroughly enjoying it. Of course I enjoyed it when I started before, but I struggled because I had wanted to read it as part of a read-a-long and the pace was too slow and the whole thing felt pressured to me. This was about me, not the other readers. I tend to be a fast reader, and I also tend, when reading something I need to discuss, to be at my best when I can read something once-through before going back to look at it more critically. However I did not do that, and then my time and my attention was too fragmented. I am happy to be finally be fully engaged in the book and I am looking forward to finishing it and reading the other books in the series.

5. And although I have actually more or less had a normal, not too busy day today, and I have walked, and read and run errands and on a few small projects around the house, it seems I am still a trifle scatterbrained. I picked up some salmon for dinner, and some black cod as well, but then I got distracted by another project, patching a small hole in the wall left behind when I removed a large picture from the wall when I put up some interesting sculptural tin flowers I purchased in Arkansas. Alas by the time I got everything done, including a trip to the hardware store, it was too late in the afternoon on this cloudy day to get a decent picture in the sunroom, a room that is at its best in morning light.

It was also apparently too late for my salmon. I had planned on baking it with some Thai Sweet Chile sauce, which I had made before the great sinus plague, but I forgot that I needed to marinate the salmon with the chile sauce for at least 2 hours.   By the time I figured this out I was ready to eat. Luckily I had some fresh bratwurst in the fridge, and some homemade sauerkraut, so a successful dinner was not a problem. The salmon can sit in its marinade up for up to 24 hours, so I'm ready for tomorrow's dinner. The cod is bathing in a concoction of pretty much equal parts mirin, sake, and white miso.  My experience with this technique is that the cod is at its best between 48 hours (2 days) and 5 days, and so I am looking forward to have something to come home to after the MLK day activities on Monday..

Hope you are all having a wonderful weekend, and I hope to be back into a routine soon enough.

January 13, 2017