Beet-Bean Stew with Shiitakes

Turbo-mode post here on this happy Friday. I'll be welcoming Phil home this afternoon and have a great list of things to do before then, both home-preparing-type stuff and work-related.

I mentioned earlier that we haven't had a good beet year, whereas beets (which we love) are usually one of our more reliable crops.

 I've also been talking about how much I'm enjoying bean stews, how quick and convenient they are: the only prep time, if you abhor the concept of canned beans as I do, is to precook a few different kinds of beans, which is as easy as soaking them for a few hours and crockpotting overnight.

I had prepped some adzuki and pinto beans, and was feeling the pinkish theme--time for a shift to a deeper color after all that golden (although the golden stays in the mix too).

I paired these rather sweet beans and veggies with sweeter spices, but also with the earthy richness of shiitake mushrooms. I used dried mushrooms because it's what I had, but fresh ones would work fine too.

You need:
1 tb coconut oil

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1 tsp cayenne (or more)

1 tsp turmeric

2 medium onions, chopped

2-3 medium beets, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 inch piece ginger, minced
2 cups cooked pinto beans
2 cups cooked adzuki beans
1/4 cup dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked in 2 cups hot water (or 1/2 cup fresh shiitakes and 2 cups hot water)
1 tsp finely grated orange zest (optional)
salt and black pepper to taste

In a three-quart saucepan, melt the coconut oil and add the onions, beets and spices. Stir to incorporate, cover, and cook for around 8 minutes, stirring occasionally, adding a little water if necessary.

Add the ginger, garlic, beans, mushrooms and water, bring to a boil and simmer for about 20 minutes or until beets are tender. Stir in the orange zest, if desired, before serving.

We're at the time of year that lighting is tricky for food photographing (and even a hack like me can tell)--so my picture of the stew on the stove really doesn't do it justice and I'll spare it. In words, this is a hearty, purple stew with the gentle, sweet earthiness of the beets, the more intense earthiness of the mushrooms, the warmth of the spices and the heartiness of the beans. Orange zest and beets--orange zest and onions, for that matter, have a great synergy, so I recommend that option.

As with other stews, I've been warming a serving through with some greens from the garden, with some extra turmeric and miso (and sometimes avocado and coconut kefir). Now, that does look pretty!

I haven't been one to think much about colors of foods (except for orange/golden, funnily enough--a lot of my favorite foods are that color), and I have Phil to thank for pushing me toward awareness of it.

Gotta go--have a work call in three minutes!
Do you feel influenced by the colors of your food? Do you love beets?

Reorganization--of Bluff and Home

Small announcement: If you're in Homer, come on down to the Library at 6pm this evening to hear Twelve Local Writers read their work. No, I'm not one of them, but I know just about all of them and will certainly be there in support.

It's been a while since I've shared pictures of the stunning edge on which we live, so I'm going to put that right today, having remembered my camera when I hiked yesterday. Phil gets back tomorrow afternoon, and will find himself accelerating seasons from the mid-harvest Fall of Oregon to nigh-winter here. It's been freezing hard every night, and the grasses at the bottom of the bluff just above beach gravel are autumn-colored and falling over.

Isn't it all a big process of rearrangement? A different side of the earth's face is kissed by the sun, different currents become prominent here.

I've been thinking of this "rearranging," speaking of how we're all connected, as I start preparing to teach the Linguistics course next term. When I look to see how others do it, many of the best sites online belong to people who were my classmates in grad school. They did what they were 'supposed to do' with their education, and have been excellent professors at prominent schools for some years already. Meanwhile, I muddle along--but here I am, rearranging some of the same material in a different place, with different goals, for different students.

And rearranging has been on my brain in a more literal sense too: I've been trying to get as many organizational projects as possible straightened out and sustainable during Phil's absence.

So, yesterday morning, our bed looked like this (after I'd wriggled out of it, of course!)

The bookshelf along my side of the bed in the loft had been overloaded in haphazard and book-breaking fashion...

...and when our incredibly kind and generous friend Tom made us these cubes to be footstools/storage space to go with our armchairs...

...it liberated these IKEA cubes that we'd been using for that purpose (not ideal, as they're not very stable)...

...which had in turn been liberated from pantry duty, because they're really not much good for that, either.

Well, they're also not ideal bookshelves, but by sunrise yesterday morning, my bedside area looked so much more sane!

It is a great lesson for me that having stuff organized can make such a difference, can be a weight off the ambient energy, can help me see things anew. This has been on my mind ever since we were house-sitting a couple months ago. I feel like a bit of a retard for being so slow to come to it: seems like most people know it by second nature. How about you?

Meanwhile, outside, the bluff keeps on rearranging itself...

 More land falls down toward the ocean, more headlong trees, more tussocks of grass hanging on to clumps of displaced earth.

This runoff has only looked like this for about the past month. It's a funny hourglass effect--the beach has piled up around the trickling water, while the land from above falls down and silts in the stream.

Even the bedrock calves off in chunks, and even in this photo, you can see how friable the bluff's edge is. The spruce tree at the top didn't used to be at that angle!

I feel grateful to live in a place where change and reorganization are so constant and literal. Grateful that sometimes I can learn to put them into practice, again literally, in my own existence.

Are philosophical posts like this tedious for you? There are so many things I could choose to write about, and I've really been thinking about which ones are most interesting for readers. Any feedback is hugely appreciated.

And I do have a beet-bean stew to share, but I'll do so tomorrow in order to keep this short and sweet. Much love!

Carrot-Cardamom(-Coconut) Cookies and Organization

I'm still stalled on "C" in my alphabetic challenge to follow recipes and create pleasurable foods. Part of the difficulty is that I carry so many 'shoulds' about food that it can be hard to know what foods actually are pleasurable. The reason for the recipe-following aspect of the challenge was to avoid making up something ultra healthified and virtuous out of my own head and calling it good.

Well, today I have something to share that I made up but that was inspired by reading recipes. I was looking at Matthew Kenney's Everyday Raw Desserts and was drawn by the cardamom cookies. I adore cardamom, and liked the idea of getting in some more coconut in a pleasurable way. But I also really wanted carrot in there! I mentioned when I shared the FFF-inspired pumpkin-carrot bread that carrot is surely one of my very favorite foods. Cardamom and carrot was calling to me...

I was also back and forth on whether I wanted the easy-fix convenience of a loaf or the slow, methodical, time-consuming shaping of cookies that saves slicing later and gives more uniform results. I decided to go for the latter, and when I got to the 'cookie shaping' stage, I thought of Lisa. I know she loves that process and finds it meditative. If I could channel that, I wouldn't get so impatient, even if mine would never be as perfect as hers!

Carrot Cardamom (Coconut) Cookies (Raw, vegan, gluten free)
3 cups shredded coconut
1/2 cup quinoa flour
1/2 cup golden flax meal
1 cup chopped carrot
1/2 in piece of fresh ginger
3/4 cup coconut nectar
1 tablespoon ground cardamom
pinch salt
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon almond extract
1/2 cup coconut oil (melted)

Whiz the first three ingredients together briefly in the food processor, then add the carrot and ginger, and process until everything is well combined. Add the spices, extracts, and coconut nectar, pulse together. Finally, add the melted coconut oil and process to a dough.

Form into tablespoon-sized cookies on a dehydrator sheet. (I got about 42.)

I dehydrated them from around 2pm until 7.30 the next morning. 145 degrees for the first hour and then 115.

These are not super-sweet, but they are delicious. Dry on the outside, moist on the inside, with a gently coconutty crumb. I love the hint of carrot and almond--and, of course, the cardamom. For my taste, though, it could have taken even more cardamom! Maybe next time.

In Phil's absence, I've been busy tidying and organizing. This picture of my space on the counter is unrecognizably pristine.

 Of course, that's because things got worse before they got better! For a while, there was stuff all over the rest of the counter and both chairs, the cabin looked like a paper bomb had exploded in it.

 But by the next morning (yes, it's dark in the mornings now, and that flash is the SAD light on), it looks pretty sane, doesn't it, even with the big pile of books on the SAD light!

I'm hoping that making things better organized will make it easier to keep them that way too!

Do you manage to keep things organized, or does entropy take over surprisingly fast?
Do you enjoy the meditative shaping of cookies or would you rather slap it down in a square and cut later?

Rethinking Multitasking, Time-of-Month Herbal Relief, New Herbal Projects

This morning, I was watching an interview with Georges Batailles on Ron Silliman's blog. It's a fascinating nine-minute clip, in French with English subtitles, on the relationship between literature and evil, and a certain infantilism at the root of literature, and evil--and eroticism too. Definitely worth a watch.

As often, while I was watching, I started to multitask, which in this case meant working on my translation job, which involves Ancient Greek, Italian, and English.

 After a couple of minutes, I was frustrated with my rusty French; I was having trouble following the French audio while looking at the other screen and translating Greek and Italian. It didn't take me long to realize how silly this was--Greek, Italian and English is enough of a juggle, and just because the French (on a completely different topic) was audio, doesn't mean that I could process it all simultaneously. And considering that I only formally studied French for three years in Junior High, my French is darn good.

But I need to rethink my multitasking. My computer crashed yesterday, as I mentioned, probably because it had 30 different browser windows open, some with audio or video trying to load. Oh, and don't forget tabs--multiple tabs in several of those windows! It's ridiculous, it displays a lack of trust that I'll be able to find whatever it was again, and it adds to my anxiety (as Phil points out whenever I walk through the cabin trying to balance fifteen jars in my two hands).

I realize that the urge to multitask on the computer is a failure to recognize the lesson I learned yesterday: "asynchronous is still real life."
My computer nook is this tiny space, the only spot in the cabin without a view at its center.

 And so it's tempting to see everything that happens on that screen as part of a single, separate universe unto itself, not 'real life.'

The reality is, this is my office where I go to work. It's my communications center where I keep in touch with people. It's my entertainment center, my encyclopedia, and to some degree, my department store. Those are all very real things that I care about. Having them all simultaneously present on a thirteen-inch screen doesn't mean I can deal with them as they deserve, and as I deserve, all at the same time.

One thing I don't do in this space is my creative writing. That happens longhand for a long time, and then I type it up on my little netbook, not connected to the internet (unless I'm sending some work off), sitting somewhere where I can see out.

"Asynchronous" means "not at the same time." I think I would advise anyone that something received asynchronously (i.e. not face-to-face) deserves just as much time and attention as if it were a face-to-face transaction. Apparently, I know that instinctively when it comes to my creative writing.

Anyone else had issues toning down the multitask?

I made some progress organizing the kitchen today, and found a folder buried in there full of my bodywork and healing arts certifications!

Strange flashback to a very different time in my life.

I also organized my herbs, and realized that I have an awful lot of herbs--some of them purchased, many of them wildcrafted or specially grown. It's that time of the month when I'm wise to be drinking lots of raspberry leaf, ginger, parsley root, licorice infusions, which reminds me to go harvest some raspberry leaves before they all go away and save the roots from my parsley plants before the ground freezes. Another wonderful thing for this time of the month is tincture of Chinese Angelica (aka Dong Quai). It helps with PMS, both physical and emotional symptoms, and it really helps with cramps, especially in conjunction with the infusions. Oh, and a day off from strenuous exercise is a fine idea--I did a 30-minute abs workout on day 1 of my period a few months ago and definitely felt how bad an idea that was for the rest of the day!

I haven't been doing much with my herbs lately--haven't even been making kombucha! So I've decided to do one new herb project every week. It needn't be a big thing, could just be trying a different tea combination.

For now, I have two tinctures on the go. (The excipient is simply cheap vodka.)

On the left is a milk thistle seed tincture (it'll be ready in just over a week), for liver support.
On the right is a tincture of a combination of hops and peppermint (both from the farm in Oregon) and some chamomile flowers. This will be a calming, sedative remedy. Part of the active ingredient in hops is water-soluble, so I'll probably combine this tincture (which has two weeks to go) with a reduced infusion made into a syrup for preservation purposes.

Hops taste nasty, so it's worth all this effort! Down in Oregon, Phil has been known to eat one whole hop flower at bedtime to help with insomnia, but it's not a pleasant way to get the benefit. I have read that if you're depression-prone, hops isn't a good choice for a calming remedy, so this may be just for Phil).

Do you enjoy playing with herbs/have any particular herbs that help you?

Asynchronous is Still Real Life--and Bean Stew for the Busy

How's your weekend going? We've had a huge windstorm here that's blown down much of the beautiful foliage (and made my bike ride yesterday morning extra challenging).

I just sent in my second "packet" to my MFA mentor, having been hard at it since early this morning, so I'm still in that vortex. Due to a couple glitches, I ended up with a big fat volume of Richard Hugo poems to read and write an essay on, with only two days (and not empty days) to do it! But everything came together, and I know what I'm working from for the next batch, and have most of it available, so yay for no more glitches! (***(a few hours later) and right after I typed that, my computer crashed***)

When I talk to my mom on the phone, it's noon where I am and close to bedtime where she is. My mentor will look at that packet I sent in a different timezone, on a different date. I write this blog post and everyone who looks at it will do so at some other time, perhaps in another timezone.

This course that I'm getting ready to teach for Kenai Peninsula College, Linguistics 101, will be delivered entirely "asynchronously," i.e., will be taught (I will teach!) over the internet. The "lady who knows everything about this" began to impart some of her knowledge yesterday. But I'm still daunted! I'm not a technologically savvy person--heck, I lived in the jungle for three years! And during those three years, technology, perhaps especially as used in education, continued to become exponentially space age while I was machete-ing coconuts and lighting fires by rubbing sticks together.

So, nothing like a challenge, right? This word 'asynchronous' got me thinking too, though--writing, or carving, painting--were perhaps the earliest forms of 'asynchronous' communication; in fact, one of the experts on Cave of Forgotten Dreams made the point that part of the value of those paintings lay precisely in their ability to refer meaningfully across time. The internet and modern communications have increased the dimensional potential, the speed, the general possibility of 'talking' to someone(s) in a different room, at a different time, and I need to start thinking about how to use that, and how to turn my own foibles into effective tools for teaching.


My most important take-home lesson? At some point, I contrasted web-based/asynchronous teaching with "teaching in real life." I was quickly corrected:
"It's still real life!" Even though you're not getting all the conventional feedback of response, body language, discussion, that you would in person.

That really hit home for me. This--this little window--this is real too!


And--I've got some serious work to do!
I may do some recreational baking (or unbaking) this weekend, but I haven't been doing anything creative food-wise these last few days. The day before Phil left, I made a bean stew.

In fact, I made it at the same time that I made the two versions of pumpkin carrot bread. I ran out of both yesterday, and made another bean stew betwixt and between doing other things! There's something so convenient about the stew--lunch and dinner, I put some in a pan with some greens from the garden (savoring the last days of being able to do this), warm it up, stir through some miso and enjoy with a little avocado and/or coconut kefir. Batches of porridge see me through breakfast. It's so convenient to have something hearty and wholesome--and somewhat customizable with fresh greens--ready for several meals at a stretch when super-busy. The stew pictured is fairly similar to this one (thanks for the inspiration) and the one I'm working on now features black beans, green split peas, and turnips. Sometime next week, I'll share another recipe. It's one of those things that can be varied from a formula and work every time.

My Naturopath has pulled me back from my latest descent into extremes--I'd cut out fruit and most carbs since Phil left and he told me to put them back in. It seems that most of what I'm being told to do is abstain from being hard on myself, and since 'being hard on myself' is what I'm programmed to do, there's another chunk of serious work.

Whoa! I hope that's not too much of a heavy, cerebral post!
Have you successfully reprogrammed yourself?
Sending much asynchronous love...

FFF-Inspired Pumpkin-Carrot-Cake-Bread

Again, thank you so much for the great comments and advice on my dealing with failure post, and also for the shares about 'home-alone' time.

I didn't grow up with pumpkin. Halloween wasn't much of a holiday where I grew up, although I do remember reading a picture book about it at a friend's house, but I only remember that because the text was all rhymed and so stuck in my head ("sister's a witch all dressed in black/brother wears bones, front and back/I'm a ghost with no face/in an old pillowcase").

They didn't even have winter squash at the stores in England when I was a kid, let alone jack o'lanterns, but they do now. In Israel, there was pumpkin in the fall and my grandmother would make it as a side dish, steamed, gloopy, unseasoned, never very appealing (I wonder about that: she is an incredible cook and that's the only thing of hers I never liked--must have been some sort of traditional dish).

Over the past decade, I've come to appreciate pumpkin (and squash in general) for its versatility, working well both as a main course and a dessert vehicle; for its heartiness and nutrient-density while being very low in calories; for its usefulness in vegan and gluten free baking; for its distinctive flavor that still manages to carry other flavors beautifully.

I last wrote about pumpkin as the key ingredient in chocolate mousse (in place of tofu, avocado, etc) in my review of Peggy Kotsopoulos' Must Have Been Something I Ate. I haven't used it since then--I probably prefer sweet potatoes overall, even though they're more caloric. But having pretty much yammed myself out (here, for example), and with the season upon us, it felt like time.

And then I saw Tina's Pumpkin Carrot Cake Bread and was thoroughly intrigued that something could be both pumpkin and carrot, both cake and bread--two delightful pairings delightfully conjoined--and I knew that I had to make a gluten free and vegan version.

 So, I proceeded to do so! At the same time (but at the opposite end of the cabin) I made a regular version for Phil. He gladly ate a big slice and took the rest for journey food.

I also made this version low-sugar.
Here it is--Pumpkin Carrot Cake Bread with thanks to Tina; vegan gluten free, low sugar

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Mix together dry ingredients:
3/4 cup quinoa flour (I ground quinoa grain freshly)
1/4 cup tapioca starch
1/4 cup potato starch
1 teaspoon xanthan gum
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt

In a separate bowl, mix together wet ingredients:
1 1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon flax mixed with 1/4 cup water
1/4 cup xylitol
1/4 cup molasses

Combine dry and wet ingredients and stir in:
1 cup shredded carrot
1/4 cup goji berries (or whatever you prefer--for Phil's, I omitted the gojis and added pumpkin seeds)

Bake for 25 minutes.

Baking is tricky here, since all I have is a toaster oven. At that time and temperature, the breads were just starting to burn on the top and were still doughy in the middle. Luckily, doughy in the middle is exactly how Phil prefers them and in a regular oven, I think this would have been perfect.

Oh, and I thought it was delicious, too. It's very moist and toothsome and spicy, but holds together well. I love how the pieces of carrot have retained some crunch and texture, not mushed completely. Carrots are definitely one of my favorite foods and were a huge selling point in this recipe. Minus the baking soda, I think this would be a great dehydrator bar recipe also.

Do you tweak recipes from cake into bread into bar, from smoothie into mousse into pie?

Bon Voyage, Phil!

Thanks for the kind comments on my thoughts on failure when deserving success: I'd still love to hear stories and thoughts.

I had to share this amazing full moon rising just after sunset, through the golden brown needles of the larch.

 Phil left for ten days (in Oregon) this morning.

 Homer Airport is barely the size of a regular train or bus station.

The planes are pretty small, too! Bon Voyage, Phil!

This will be the first time since Phil and I have been together that I won't be at the family farm in this season. I'll miss seeing his mom.

 I'll miss helping out with the filbert harvest, and helping Phil work on his timberland.

Back home, I'll miss our morning snuggles, our walks on the beach, our conversations.
I won't have to make any coffee, or handle any gluten or dairy or animal products.
I won't be surprised in the middle of whatever vortex I'm in by Phil's sudden suggestion to go for a walk or pull potatoes or come look at the sunset. I'll need to make sure I appreciate the beauty around us without his prompting.
Phil goes off for weekends with his guy friends semi-regularly, but this is the first time I've been home alone for several days at a stretch: I've been the one who's taken off, for writing programs, for two weeks at a stretch.
I've got formidable amounts of work to do: my second 'packet' for my MFA program is due this weekend, and among my other jobs is designing a course I'll be teaching next semester! More on that soon. I'm also really hoping to make a lot of progress with the organization of our new kitchen and of my papers. I'm now the proud owner of a filing box and some file folders, so watch me go!
And, despite the despair I mentioned yesterday, I worked out for over an hour today, so I'm persevering and giving time to that too!
Phil's trip to Oregon was a last-minute surprise decision. Last night, I also bought a ticket, also a pretty unplanned decision, to go a very long way indeed--which only adds to the feeling that I need to get everything done. More on that soon.

With all I have to do, and with all the anxiety and frustration inside me, it's tempting to just hole up and absent myself from the outside world. But several of our friends and neighbors have made a point of saying that I should contact them if I need help with anything while Phil's gone, and there are several writers groups and other events that will eat into my work time get me out of the house! I'm choosing to feel so grateful for this: to remind myself that I don't absolutely need to be measurably productive every waking second.

I'll be back tomorrow with something delicious

What do you do when left to your own devices?