Gluten on Board and Other Boondoggles

Greetings from Tucson! It is quite an upheaving experience, to fly into a whole new climate zone.

Thanks for listening to my identity crisis. Being on the road is a great time not to feel bound by usual assumptions of identity, although it's also a time when those assumptions can assert themselves like neglected children, if they're not given their full expression.

One thing I want to set straight from the last post: I said: “I'm a poet, not a food writer.” I am, too, a food writer! Poetry may be my first string but denying the food-writing piece is wrong and unfair.

I want to share the story of Thursday afternoon and evening, when we were getting ready for our trip, when I wrote that 'identity crisis' post. There were three major boondoggles: two related to food, one related to poetry!

Boondoggle #1—it seems I took some gluten on board at lunchtime. Not a lot, but stupid and careless: I ate some baked yam that had been sitting in a pie plate that had pastry and crumbs all over it. At least I should have not eaten the skin (but I love the skin). So, sure enough, a couple hours later, I started to get that familiar, awful feeling. It's been well over a year since that last happened. And as usual, it took about two days or so for my tummy to feel anything like ok, and I wasn't in the happiest shape for traveling, to put it mildly. Focusing on feeling cheerful and doing my best (as opposed to beating up on myself for carelessness and such bad timing) was a good challenge: I think that the end result was that I felt pretty sick (intense nausea, cramps, runs) for two days or so, most of them on the road, but I wasn't miserable with it.

Boondoggle #2—while preparing dinner, I opened a bottle of 'ghost chili' powder. That's the hottest kind of chili there is, and I wanted a little of it with the curried coconut veggies I was making. Well, the heater was going, and the instant I opened the bottle, the fan swept the fine, scorching powder into my nose and eyes! (And yes, I was already sick from gluten.) I sneezed more times in one go than I can ever remember. Phil was wonderful: he has rewetting drops for his eyes and shared some with me immediately. I was relieved that the pepper-spraying didn't put me out of action for more than a moment, but for hours later I would intermittently have a sneezing fit and be unable to open my eyes. Yes, I maced myself! And was then cautious with the food: more spice ended up in my eyes than in our dinner.

Boondoggle #3—I was putting finishing touches to my poetry manuscript, playing about with the ordering, and then thought to look up the guidelines and email address for submission. Turns out, the maximum length was 20 pages. So, with the evening wearing on, I had to cut my manuscript in half!

This wasn't actually as bad as it sounded, despite sick tummy and peppery eyes. In fact, I'm glad that I didn't realize this until the last minute, because instead, I worked on getting a full, coherent manuscript together without worrying about artificial length constraints. And I submitted the 20 pages as 'excerpts' from the full manuscript. I'm so looking forward to getting critiqued, although I know I'll have to work on my thick skin.

If boondoggles come in threes, I appreciate the sign that the hat-trick was spread across the poetry and food worlds. We'll see how we go straddling the two plus visiting friends, family and new places over the next ten days.

Do you have any boondoggles to share? I'd also love it if anyone has any advice on what to do to feel better if you're celiac/gluten allergic and accidentally ingest gluten. I'd love to collect some tips and make a post about it. It's been a year and a half since that last happened and I hope it won't happen ever again, but it would be nice to know if there's anything to make it less worse.

much love!

While Traveling: Identity Crisis and Lots of Questions

By the time this post goes up, I'll have (written this post), packed clothes, books, pens, netbook, chargers; packed and prepared snacks and journey food. I'll have miraculously pulled my manuscript together and submitted it, dropped off our baby plant trays at Phil's daughter's house for safekeeping. We'll have driven the 230 miles to Anchorage and we'll be in the air. I hope I can figure out how to upload photos into the netbook for on-the-road blogging: any specific software I need to get?

Thank you so much for all the comments and thoughts about the parsnip-based cheesecake. I love that kind of exploration and discussion.

And here I find myself in something of an identity crisis. I'm a raw-food chef playing around with cooked starch as a base for desserts. I'm eating starch at all, at that. I was a total low-glycemic zealot for a while after years of nigh-fruitarianism. As a low-glycemic type, I focused on desserts, which are supposed to be sweet. Now, feeling better every month on lots of starch and looking forward to more fruit soon, I seem to be coming full circle.
I don't eat animal products, but will likely be involved in some way or another in the local food harvesting activities that are such a huge part of summer up here, that are not all plant-based, to put it mildly (tho' we have huge hopes for our berry harvest this year). I'm living in Alaska, despite having attained clarity that I felt best in warm climates with year-round growing seasons, eating from orchard, garden and wilderness. (I'm very happy here nonetheless, although I have pangs of locavore guilt at times).

I spend a fair amount of time blogging and reading blogs, and so much of it's about food, but I'm a poet, not a food writer. Shouldn't I write a blog that's purely poetry-oriented? Or get two blogs, one for each?

All rivers reach the ocean eventually, but rivers in a narrow course, with all the water channeled and focused, reach it faster and more forcefully than braided, spread out streams. And if the water spreads out too much, it stagnates, becomes a swamp and never goes to the sea. Am I like a braided river, making very slow progress toward (oceanic) goals, in danger of stagnating?

Or, can I have my stanza and eat it too? What's wrong with writing about food and poetry? (Come to think of it, several of my poems are all about food and preparing food.) Is it a problem that I don't have a square platform on which to stand and proclaim/defend my position; that I'm not solidly 'raw food,' not passionately vegan, that I write about poetry and other things as well as about food and nutrition stuff?

I mentioned this identity crisis to a writer friend recently and her response to whether my blog should be a 'food blog' or a 'literature blog' was "well, it's your blog."

The important question is, what do I want to share here? Whatever it is, this shapeshifter theme is likely to continue, since I don't think I've ever known myself without it.

I will blog when I can during the trip: we'll be in Tucson for five days and around Phil's family's farm in Oregon for another five, with lots of travel in between, so the 'every other day' schedule may be somewhat disrupted.

I'll also be pondering on that question of what I want to share here--and would love to hear what people want more of. Are foodies put off by the non-food talk? Are literary types put off by all the food talk? Do I need to get a focus? Get two blogs?

After showing pictures of our overwintered chives last time, I have some more impressive ones. We had one bed covered in plastic.

 Hard to get a good shot because it was so sunny. It snowed today, though...
And this rhubarb is just pumpin' it! I'm excited to see how much more green explosion will have happened by the time we get home in less than two weeks. It happens quickly here.

One more question: when you comment on my blog, do you get an option to have replies sent to your email? I've seen that some 'blogger' blogs have this and others don't and I don't know how to be sure that mine are. I've been manually emailing replies to people (if I have their address) and want to know whether this is redundant or not.

Many thanks and blessings!

Parsnip-Based Cheesecake? The 'Why on Earth' and a Preliminary Recipe

So, Ela, why on Earth would you use cooked parsnips as a base for raw cheesecake?
Yes, congratulations to kt for guessing correctly that the secret ingredient in my latest cheesecake was parsnips!

In this post, I'll answer the 'why on Earth?' question. I'll also give a preliminary recipe, since we're going on a trip in a couple days and I won't be able to do any more recipe testing for at least a couple weeks.

The simplest answer to 'why on Earth?' is because it's important to me to feel good about something I'm eating and serving to others. I've found that this applies to desserts and treats almost more strongly than to regular foods: I want it to taste delightful, decadent, creamy, indulgent, and I want to have confidence in my ingredients, and know that I'll feel good afterwards.

Now, to details.
I can see two major criticisms of using parnips in cheesecake, so I'll deal with those before I get to the 'pros.'
1) Won't the shelf life be greatly reduced by using a cooked starch?
It is possible that the shelf life will be reduced slightly, but I store cheesecakes in the freezer anyway, and everyone loves them (yes, this version too!) so they don't last long! There's still plenty of fat in there.

2) Um, cooked parsnips? I thought this was raw food cuisine!
OK: here's what I think: the base ingredient in 'regular' raw cheesecakes is cashews. And unless you are paying through the nose for 'truly raw' cashews, cashews aren't 'raw' either! Like mangos, cashews are in the poison ivy family and have a highly toxic secretion in the shell that is almost impossible to circumvent without application of heat.

I've done it, both in Thailand and HI. In HI, I got blisters all over me and maybe a half dozen nuts. (3 cups of cashews for a full-sized cake.) In Thailand, with slightly better equipment and protective clothing, two of us worked for a half hour for a scant half cup of nuts. How many raw restaurants, let alone regular raw foodists, (can afford to) pay out for 'truly raw' cashews?

And then, if you're making a low-sugar version, as I prefer to (for reasons I'll get to in a second), chances are that your xylitol isn't 'truly raw' either. I am highly skeptical about the raw status of agave, at that. Even if it's low-temperature processed, it's highly refined. For comparison: bees laboriously fan their gathered nectar from an 80% moisture start product to a 20% moisture finished product. I used to be a beekeeper, I love bees, but I definitely think that their honey is highly refined and 'processed,' even if it's raw and otherwise magical. For the more decadent raw desserts, I think most people would agree that there's a certain degree of 'fudging' on the raw status generally, certainly vis-a-vis level of processing.

Just because the bees processed the honey where we couldn't see, it doesn't mean it's unprocessed. I think a similar cognitive dissonance takes place for people when they think of nuts, which they can just buy at the store and use (raw material that might have been heated unbeknownst to them), versus parsnips, which they have to cook on the stove themselves.

Are you with me so far? For me, the 'it's ok, because it's raw' argument doesn't wash with the cheesecakes. I love them, but haven't always felt good with them, and wanted to have it both ways.
So, on to the 'pros' of parsnip use.

I used to think that the reason why people tend to feel heavy after enjoying a raw cheesecake was the combination of huge amounts of fat together with lots of sugar. That's what I speculated after the last time I tried a 'commercial' raw cheesecake (at Blossoming Lotus in Portland). And that's why I've always made my own cheesecakes much lower sugar, usually with a combination of xylitol syrup and stevia; occasionally coconut nectar. They're still very rich, but don't seem to be so coma-inducing.

But you know what? Raw cheesecakes are typically based on cashews, nut milk and coconut oil/cacao butter for firmness. Sugar's going to tend to make that a gut bomb, but all by itself, that's a whopping great load of fat! Of course, my recent interest in avoiding PUFAs has caused me to examine that aspect of cheesecakes.  Cashews are actually relatively low in PUFAs (and mac nuts, which also work in cheesecakes, contain almost none, but are almost as expensive as 'truly raw cashews'). This overall fat load seems excessive, even when compared with the standard cheesecake that's based on cream cheese and eggs.

For concreteness: cashews are around 750 calories per cup (three cups for a large cheesecake, remember); a cup of cooked chopped parsnips is around 150 calories.

You pair that with the nut milk and coconut oil, and even without using sugar, it's no wonder that it's so heavy.
The good news is that if you keep the nut milk and coconut oil and replace the cashews with parsnips, it's still plenty rich!

I've already made delicious 'pumpkin pie' type mousses with cooked yams, but a parsnip, or perhaps a white sweet potato, is great for the cheesecake application because they're still white, and have a sweet, neutral flavor. As I mentioned in the previous post, I could taste the parsnip, but only in the same, unobtrusive way that I can taste cashews in cashew-based cakes, and not a single person that I served it to detected it at all.

What do you think? Would you try this, or do you prefer to stay with the cashews? (Hey, there's room for both, isn't there?)
To help you decide, here's the recipe: please note that this is not the final version.
White Chocolate Blueberry Cheesecake
Recipe for a 7in cheesecake; I made it crustless--any favorite crust would work.
1 cup cooked chopped parsnips, well drained (peel before cooking)
3/8 cup coconut milk
1/4 cup xylitol syrup
2 tablespoons vanilla
1 tablespoon lemon juice
pinch vanilla powder
pinch salt
1/4 cup melted cacao butter
1 tablespoon lecithin

1/4 cup blueberries and an additional tablespoon of lemon juice for swirling.

Blend the first seven ingredients until smooth. Add the melted cacao butter and lecithin and blend again until thoroughly combined.

Pour out into bowl (or onto crust) but leave 1/2 cup in the blender. Tip: I tend to save some of the 'white' mixture in a cup so that I can 'mend' the swirl if need be.
Add blueberries and lemon juice to the blender and blend well.
Pour over the white filling, swirl with a chopstick.
Freeze to set.

I really hope folks will try this: please let me know. Another benefit of using parsnips is that I imagine that a 'regular' blender would be able to handle this more easily than a nut-based cake, so non-Vitamix-owners will still get good results.

I'm pretty excited about this whole idea and can't wait to hear what others think.

It really is spring here--amazing to think that this time last year there was still snow on the ground. I spent some time outside with a shovel this morning, uprooting some of the more persistent weeds. Pushki--cow parsnip.
Look at the size of those roots--and this is just at the two-leaf stage!

 Meanwhile, in the raised beds, our chives made it through the winter! Several small patches like this one.

I did pause to consider the irony of our delight at the survival of these plants that we carefully babied, and our zeal to uproot other plants that survived the winter with no help from us. Pushki is nasty, though... And you better believe that I'll be living on nettle smoothies a few weeks from now! I love wild foods...

Please tell me what you think about the cheesecake and if you try it!

Secret Ingredient Cheesecake (Can You Guess?) and NaPoWriMo Update

I'll talk more about this new crustless cheesecake in a moment.

 First, a quick update on NaPoWriMo and other Poetry-Related events this April. Last week, I attended two poetry gatherings: one at the home of a wonderful poet in town who is just completing her MFA in the same program that I'm going into; the other, at the library. Writing poetry requires such intense, inward focus that convivial opportunities to interact with others and revel in words and what takes shape between and behind the words seem even more special for the contrast.

In addition to writing a poem a day for NaPoWriMo, I am pushing to complete a manuscript--a small book of poems all containing the theme of strangeness and sojourn. The Writers' Conference here in town (coming up in June) offers the opportunity for participants to submit manuscripts and have them critiqued by one of the conference faculty, and I decided that that would be a great opportunity. Deadline for submission? The end of April. Getting a manuscript into some kind of shape, and writing a new poem a day (and doing my work and remodeling the kitchen, etc) is a game of multi-directional pulling--but that's how you get a smooth surface in the end. In an endeavor not to have that smooth surface be my own self spread ineffectually thin, and in recognition of the fact that several of the poems in the manuscript were barely begun, I've elided the 'poem a day' and 'manuscript' projects somewhat and am grateful.

We had a lovely Easter-themed gathering up at Phil's daughter's mom and stepdad's house yesterday (I need a better term for these wonderful friends of ours. Let's just call them Leslie and Royce)...

Our friends David and Olga were also recently back from 'snowbirding:' since our truck is still off its wheels, they gave us a ride. Here's Phil with his daughter and Olga:

 Amy's mom, Leslie, has a new camera.

Otherwise, as always, she was the 'hostess with the mostest'--it didn't feel like being put to work at all when we found the table beautifully spread with eggs to dye, bunny-shaped rice krispie treats to decorate...and cupcakes to frost!

 I made up for not eating any cupcakes by hogging my share of the frosting fun: I think I did five in contrasting designs and colors.

We had great food, precious conviviality, and some wonderful giggles (here, we're looking at possible wedding dresses for Phil's daughter: fertile ground for giggles).

 I've been working on a poem about fixing food for people. I was 'stuck' on it Saturday night, and found it ironic that I spent much of Sunday morning fixing food rather than writing about it. Gave me more grist and perspective, I guess.

I was pleased with this three-layer veggie bake I'd dreamed up.

 The base is pureed yams shot with julienned beets; the middle layer is chard with (dried) chanterelles and lots of garlic...

 ...and the top layer is a white bean-based sauce with lots of nooch, onion powder, a hint of tahini.

 I baked the yam/beet base for 30 minutes before baking the whole thing, and I think the texture would have been more interesting and varied had I baked the base longer and gotten it more crusty.

But I was most excited about the crustless cheesecake (pictured above). It's a white chocolate-blueberry cheesecake (vegan, mostly raw) and I was using a whole different ingredient base for it. I couldn't wait to see whether people liked it, and who would guess what it was made from.

Actually, it was somewhat overshadowed by all those cupcakes...

 ...and although it was very well liked and got rave reviews, no one asked me "So Ela, what on earth is this made from?"

 Can you guess what I based it on? Here's a hint. And no, it's not yam!
I don't have the recipe perfect yet, but will post it when I do. This much I will say: I thought it tasted fantastic. I could taste the 'secret ingredient,' but only in the same way that I can taste cashews in cashew-based cheesecakes, quite unobtrusively. And this is so much lighter than a nut-based cheesecake but the flavor and texture remain rich. OK--I'll stop talking, or I'll give the game away.

Isn't this the oddest plant? Leslie and Royce adopted it recently, and insist that it's pure Dr Seuss.

Can you guess what that cheesecake is based on? I'd love to hear your guesses...
And do you know a better name for that plant than 'Dr Seuss plant?' I don't think it's a yucca...

Inundations and Dehydrations

Spring is springing here! Look at our trusty rhubarbs, coming up again for another year...

 Amy's mom adores rhubarb, but other rhubarb-lovers are thin on the ground around here. They really aren't good raw (lots of oxalic acid) and this time last year, I wasn't really eating cooked food. This time around, I may have to come up with some rhubarb goodness.

And here comes grass, poking green and acute through the tired, bleached blades of last year.

 It's tire-changing time too, and Phil decided that this muddy, overcast day would be a great one to get 'er done.
HUH??
Well, he wouldn't be grudging that he wasn't doing something else, something fun, on a crummy day like this.
OK...In every other respect, it might be the worst day you can imagine. All the ice deep in the ground is melting rapidly and the surface is awash--great day to roll around under a truck wrestling wheels (or not).

As it turns out, the lug nuts on the wheels were old and stripped, and they busted when he tried to undo them. None of the parts stores in town have any in stock! We might be able to drive again by Tuesday: for now, we have our very own junker truck blocking up the cul-de-sac. Thankfully, it's raining and we're catching water, so we won't be inconvenienced by not being able to go to town and fill our buckets.

As all this moisture seeps out of the ground and soaks down from the sky, synthesizing all these awesome fuses of green, I've been playing around with taking moisture out of baked goodies and playing with the texture, taste and general aesthetic caused by that.

As mentioned, I made a second batch of the carrot coconut bars, while the sun was still out, and left them to sit in the sunny window. They'll keep much better for our trip next week (if they last that long) but I definitely prefer them on the moister side.

I did make some onion bread as a savory version, as I said I would. Onions are a great food in so many respects. Rich in vitamin C, one of the best sources of quercitin, which is coming to prominence as an important antioxidant, lots of good sulfur compounds... But when I eat all-raw, I almost never eat them (on rare occasions, dehydrated). That pungency is just too much, especially that I can taste it for a day afterwards, and it tends to hurt my tummy too.  I've been enjoying them steamed and roasted lately, and it was interesting to see how they worked as a baked good. I was aiming for something like the raw dehydrated onion breads that are so popular.

 I skipped the maca and mesquite (although maca would have been good here too), added some coriander, cumin and cayenne. And I let them dry in the sun too.

 Again, I preferred them moister and softer, but they were great dry and crunchy too. There is one downside to all those beneficial sulfur compounds, though. The odor seems to pass through the gut unscathed and, if anything, enhanced.

Moving swiftly on...

I'm not a crackers person much, but Phil really is, so I've been making him more of those rice crackers, and some wheat thins too.

The rice ones, starting with well-cooked rice, blending it, adding seasonings, spreading thin on parchment paper, flip and dry, are so much more labor intensive than the wheat thins and take so much longer, but Phil greatly prefers them: that crispy, wafer-thin texture.

What is the secret to the overwhelming onslaught of green here? An inundation of water. And the secret to getting those crackers wafer-thin? Even, perfect removal of water: it's as though the water-soaked batter allows for thinner and crispier bonds. I'm beginning to think that this is another good reason to save for a dehydrator: an oven, especially a tiny one like ours, is not the best tool for 'even, perfect' water removal: you have to sit on top of it.

How's spring coming where you are? And do you love crackers or prefer the moister stage of goodness?
Happy Earth Day and Easter!

Kitchen Creation Update and 'Lori-Rocked Banana Bread'

Thanks for all the love on the carrot coconut bars. They really are good: I've already made a second batch, and left it out in the sunny window to dry for longer storage. They're much nicer when moist and soft, but still good at a drier and chewier point.


Kitchen Creation Update
Remember this "toss it in there and shut the door" space?

Now, it's looking like this:

 Here's the south wall (counter still needs quite some work)

 Since I took that photo, I also built the drawers for the cabinet on the right of the pic. "Built the drawers"--sounds so nonchalant and easeful, but once again, it's an IKEA item, and mostly just snapped together (although I did 'snap' a fair chunk out of the pad of a finger when I pinched it in a snappy spot).

We found some shelving at Home Depot that juuust fits inside the closet, now pantry--

 I'm so grateful to Phil's daughter and her mom for all their help and expertise: they've been making this process fun, too. We sure had a geometric dance building those two shelving units in that closet.
The pictures above show a work in progress. It's still a building site in there. I welcome the opportunity to consolidate our pantry: up till now, jars and bags have been squirreled away in all kinds of nooks, and most of the dry goods were inconveniently accessible in the low, deep cupboards under the counter in the main room.

The danger of ending up with haphazard (non)organization in the new pantry is large, as things get moved in helter skelter. I've never had the opportunity to create a kitchen as I wish it (space and geometry permitting): my kitchens have been either minimalist, non-existent (?existentialist), or scattered (sometimes across more than one homestead, back in HI). Amazing how much food prep I've done over the years despite that!

'Lori-Rocked Banana Bread'
We have dinner with Phil's daughter once a week. She does better without gluten, and I enjoy creating desserts that she'll enjoy and her tummy will too. Yesterday, we had several ripe bananas. Banana bread's a favorite with both her and Phil, and I have several go-to recipes, but I was intrigued by one Lori recently posted and ended up making (a version of) it.

 I didn't have pumpkin, so I used three bananas instead of pumpkin and bananas. I used half a cup each of mixed pecans and pumpkin seeds, protein powder and oats. And since they both love their sugar, I added two tablespoons of honey to the recipe, and two tablespoons of peanut butter just for kicks.

 It looked pretty good when it came out of the oven. I was roasting veggies and left it on top of our little oven so that it was warm until I served it.

The verdict? Here's how much was left when Phil had had his fill (yes, that pun again).

(His daughter had seconds, too.) He had fun cutting out all kinds of funny shapes, just completely vanquishing the notion of linear square pieces. So, Lori adjusted a bodyrock recipe, and then I adjusted a 'Lori-rocked' recipe with gratitude and homage.

Btw, I did use an egg for this time, but I think it would be just fine with no egg and extra banana, or with some flax meal and a tad extra liquid. Nice, flexible recipe, great texture and moisture, apparently very toothsome indeed. Definitely one I'll want to try to make when I'm done yeast cleansing and can try it myself (the list seems to be growing, but pleasantly enough, I'm not feeling at all deprived in the interim).
Thanks, Lori!

Any advice on kitchen organization strategies humbly solicited and gladly received. Please tell me your thoughts.
much love

Captain Cook Hike and Carrot Coconut Bars

Yes, I can't help it--I love alliteration. But sometimes it comes and finds me. 'Captain Cook' was the name of the state park we were hiking on Saturday, and carrot and coconut, two of my favorite foods, were the main ingredients in the latest spin on ela-bar-ate (recipe below).

We were graced with broad blue skies, volcanos and mountains barely visible across the inlet.

 Check out the shelf of ice that hadn't yet melted on the landward side of the beach--and obviously, check out that hanging cabin! Someone had an architectural brainstorm, for sure!

 We were most thankful for that ice shelf: as I mentioned in my last post, the big low tide of the morning was matched by a big afternoon high tide, pulled by the waxing moon, and if not for the shelf, we would have been wading. Actually, the ice was melty and punchy, and we were almost wading in spots anyway, but we stayed mostly dry.

In terms of general logistics and convenience, the hanging cabin would be even more challenging to live in than our cabin. You have to pull yourself up a rope to get to it: anyone love hauling six-gallon water jugs and bulk groceries up a minor bluff?

I popped up the rope to check it out--it's currently deserted and the outhouse in the background (to the left of the pic) has fallen down. You can see me below the cabin, rockhopping not-so-gracefully.

 I'm glad I went up, camera-in-hand, because the owner clearly had a sense of humor and it's good to share--

I bet they're fully booked all  year.

One of the main attractions of this beach were all the beautiful rocks, agates, quartzites, jadeites, fossils that could be seen and found there. We came home with heavier pockets and packs than we started with, but some of the rocks just had to be enjoyed in situ...

 We pushed on past our determined 'turnaround time' to make this headland, and it afforded a wonderful view up and down the bay as well as locking us into a race against the tide.

 As I said before, I'm so proud to have completed this hike--twelve miles would have been far beyond me even quite recently. The next day was also busy and hectic, and by the end of it I was cranky and melted-down/frazzled: good feedback for the importance of rest and recuperation.

We enjoyed several snack breaks, delighting in the view and the warmth of this northern sun. I made chocolatey oaty bars for Phil and our friend, adapted from this recipe, with lots of orange zest, and decided that I wanted some bars that would work for my tummy too.
I liked them so much I'm making a second batch already--here's the recipe!


Carrot and Coconut Bars (gluten free, vegan, sugar free, can be raw)
(1)
1 cup finely shredded carrots (about three medium carrots)
1 cup shredded coconut
1/3 cup mesquite meal
1/3 cup maca
1/3 cup tapioca starch
2 tablespoons flax meal (yes, PUFAs, but I wanted something other than xanthan gum to bind this time)
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast
2 tablespoons orange zest (or to taste)
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon white stevia
pinch salt

Mix all of these together in a bowl and stir in:
(2)
4 tablespoons coconut butter
2 tablespoons coconut oil
(it's been easier to do this up here lately with the warm sun through the windows!)
When well incorporated,
(3)
Add liquid until it all holds together. I used cooled herbal tea, about three quarters of a cup; but you could use nut milk, or water, or whatever you prefer.

Spread out on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. I used the spatula and spoon pictured, but mostly spread it out with my hands, keeping a bowl of water handy and working with wet palms.

 I don't have a dehydrator, the heat of the sun isn't enough to do the job alone, and our heater isn't coming on so much anymore (I've shown in the past how I dehydrate in front of the heater)---but dehydrating would be a great option for these.

Instead, I baked them at 300, and flipped them over to remove the parchment paper half way through.

They taste great, have a good texture, hold together well, are satisfying.
Variations
They'd be just as good without the orange zest.
Could vary the liquid used.
I think they would be wonderful with some dried fruit chunks in there, whether raisins, dried cranberries, dried apricot pieces... (when I'm done with the yeast cleanse, I'll surely make them that way too).
As I said, could be dehydrated or baked.
Now I'm going to try a savory version, with onions!

What size of rocks do you like to pick up and bring home with you? Our friend Terry tends to be drawn to fist-sized rocks that fit in her hand. I always seem to pick up jellybean-sized ones!

Gratitude for Hand-Made and for Mass-Produced Objects

One of Phil's oldest and dearest friends lives in Montana. I've still never met him, although we've enjoyed a few long phone conversations together. His wife, whom I also haven't met, and who is lively and talented like him, is a potter, amongst many other things. Phil commissioned some bowls from her, and they arrived with us recently.

 They are so beautiful, and each one is both unique and congruent with its fellows.

 There were plates to go with them too. The postal service was unkind to two of the plates, and we are sticking them back together in the Japanese Zen tradition of breaking a new cup on purpose and sticking it back together so that it is always unique.

We live in a physical environment of such staggering beauty, and tend toward utilitarianism. I have a beautiful mug but drink out of mason jars endlessly. So these bowls are a precious reminder that even utilitarian items can be a locus of beauty. As products of nature ourselves, we can create beauty, just as nature does. And yes, nature creates ugliness too. But just as my experience of life heightens,when I pay attention to words I choose, make them the most beautiful that I can produce (or when I read or listen to someone else doing likewise); being surrounded by beautiful objects even in mundane tasks is uplifting, too.

I sometimes get a little down on myself around this area. I am more inward- than outward-looking, and being 'handy' doesn't come naturally to me. Creating food and gardening are my only exceptions to that--exceptions with which I'm well pleased, of course.

But as we move toward making our cabin a more comfortable and copacetic living space, I find myself very grateful for mass produced items that allow me to get there without overreaching myself. Since we moved the dominating futon out of the cabin, we've appreciated the space, but lacked a comfortable sitting spot. Now, thanks to the excellent advice of Phil's daughter and her mom, who have all the smarts when it comes to design and remodeling, as well as an intimate knowledge of the Ikea catalogue, we have two Poang armchairs in our life and space. They're small and light...

 ...and they have a natural rocking motion to them...

...and I put them together in less than thirty minutes each!

Yes, little unhandy me--I did it! And so far, they haven't collapsed at all!

There is no way that I could have made as comfortable and convenient a pair of armchairs from scratch, all on my own. And certainly not in less than thirty minutes.

So, I find myself grateful both for the artists among us who create things of beauty that give us pause through our days as we feel that beauty, that art, that integrity of intention; and for the technology that allows even a non-carpenter like myself to assemble two armchairs to enhance our living space. I guess it's a lot like my stalwart preference for making everything from scratch, but genuine appreciation of high quality prepared foods that can be purchased in a pinch.

I'm up to my elbows in the 'turn little side room into kitchen' project, with wonderful help and advice from the two awesome ladies mentioned above, and yesterday we hiked our socks off at Captain Cook State Park with our friend Terry.

We hiked twelve miles, saw some awesome rocks and other cool things, had to put a serious schlep on the return leg to elude the large high tide (we were confined to that ice shelf that you see in the background and it was quite exciting). I can barely believe that I could do this--I don't think I could have done such an arduous hike even a month ago.
Some more pics from that in my next post, together with an energy bar recipe that I made for myself and am pretty pleased with.

Do you appreciate man-made beauty? And mass-produced furniture?

NaPoWriMo: Midway Progress Report and Taking the Shots

It's been a hectic couple of days. I've been productive, but without much breathing space. This seems to correlate with my going to bed thinking of what I didn't get done rather than feeling pleased with everything I did. So, a progress report on this 'poem every day in April' project feels like a good anchor for this post.

Breathing Space and Missed Shots
Speaking of breathing space, here's the window I had to squeeze through as told in my Comedy of Errors post: I mentioned in it that events had moved at such a zany pace that I didn't have frame-by-frame pictures, and kt made the very smart suggestion that that was one pic I could share.

The window's quite tall but that crank mechanism doesn't allow it to open very wide...

Other productive busyness for which I missed the obvious photos: yesterday, I 'hosted' our writers group. We meet every two weeks. People take turns to host at their home, creating a relaxed environment with snacks. If one's home is too small, one can host at the library--which is obviously what I did! I'd have loved to have taken photos, both of the group and of the spread that I put on, but I left my camera at home. One thing that did feature in the spread was 'blackamole,' though...

We have light in the sky from before 6am until after 10pm now, which means we're getting into manic season. I'm not dreading it as much as last year. However, the combination of so many hours of daylight and big low tides around the full moon means that it's prime time to drive out on the beach to the base of the bluff on which our cabin sits...

filling in with an older pic

...and for Phil to put in more long, heavy hours of fighting against the Pacific Ocean!

another old pic...

We were down there this morning by 6.20: the beach deserted and expansive, all the creeks fully thawed and flowing rapidly into the ocean, crows and gulls dancing among the tidepools, the eastern sky rosy.
(And once again, I didn't have the camera...) It was still cold from the night: 25 degrees--and feeling the air and ground frozen but hearing water running everywhere was a peculiar juxtaposition.

NaPoWriMo
Wait--weren't you supposed to be talking about NaPoWriMo and how this poem-a-day jaunt is going? Well yes. My point is that it was so easy to miss all those shots, not to be present with the ever-ready camera, or to miss all kinds of inspirational moments and opportunities in the course of a day. And writing a poem every day has been a wonderful antidote to this tendency.

One new poem every day: and I set myself the additional guideline that every day's draft should be something worth working on further after the end of the month. This means that I can't miss my shot: every day, from my internal landscape, from events and scenery outside, or even from using a prompt, I must find something worth writing about and worth thinking about in an exalted way. But, as this wealth of possible sources hints, it also shows that there are so many possible shots! I couldn't possibly write every poem that occurs to me in the course of a day and this reflection has sometimes induced paralysis. The habit of writing just a single one of them, every day, opens this up so wide: it feels more like fruition and less like agony in the bud.

Although, as I predicted, I'm already looking forward to the end of the month and having more time to revise and develop what's come so far, I'm thinking that I'll probably continue something like this just for the juice that it generates. Even keeping the habit of writing down some 'germs of gems' every day sounds so attractive.

I haven't yet played with a couple of forms that I wanted to play with, and I need to do some more 'funny' poems, but the only day's effort that didn't feel like it was going anywhere for me was a prompt, to attempt a cento poem based on Bob Dylan's lyrics. I didn't give it a fair chance, did it from off the top of my head...and even though I wasn't pleased with what I did, it definitely gives me more interest in playing with cento.

Low tide was at 7 this evening and Phil wanted to go back down and fight the ocean: I thought he was leaving at 6.30 but he wanted to be gone soon after 6. He wolfed his dinner, and I stayed home and enjoyed mine slowly.

Yam with coconut butter, doused with cinnamon (with lots of salad on the side) seems so decadent and delectable--perfect for savoring alone.

Another long day and early start tomorrow: we're going to Captain Cook State Park and beach, 100-some miles north of here, to meet a friend, hike and look at rocks and fossils.

Have a beautiful weekend!