Urban Organica

breakfast #32 :: golden

My brother's here!  From across the sea.  Gratitude today looks like:

My "new" sister, not really new, but now I can hug her & soak up her zen-bohemian strength.  The fact that she can wear a giant turquoise Mexican wool poncho.   No need to get to know each other.  That's my girl.  

A bustling kitchen where the 9 year-old makes Mexican Hot Chocolate with vanilla & cinnamon.

Babies clinging to mommy legs while they cook.

5 year-old pancake flippers.

My kuya (older brother) in his signature malong skirt + tribal tattoos.

Same brother, with his Montessori-mind, busting out globes, jungle guides & grappling techniques with his nephews.

My mom, frying bangus (milkfish), itty-bitty fishies + eggs, perfectly.  But not before making apple-pancakes for us to snack on while she busts out the "real" breakfast.

Pops coming in & out from his TV games in the den.

My 1 year-old nephew, who I am in love with, saying "Pasok!" (come in!) every time he hears a knock.  Watching him hold out a hand & yell, "Waagg!" (Stop!) to the dog before opening a door & brushing him out, "Balis, balis!" (Go, you may leave!)  He repeats everything we say, dances around & smiles wide with the biggest Chinese eyes I have ever, ever seen.

Mom's chili peppers.  Pulling tomatoes, scallions, lemon cucumbers + lemons from her garden to eat with the fish & rice.

4 hours in traffic with my brotha Franz, just to get a glimpse of the Mission district, a bit of blues dancing & a plate of papusas.

Babies tackling & jumping into the arms of aunties & uncles they've never seen before.  Because love needs no introduction. 

All we need now is our bitty brother Jeric to come out to the States, or for all of us to head to the islands for a little more breakfast.

walnut loaf

Last night I filled a large tub full of walnuts that have been hiding in the corners of our home for years & years.  Some of them are tiny:  almond-sized, & I smiled thinking of the no-longer tiny hands that found them.  There's always a rush when we find a "baby," because other baby walnuts are surely nearby.  

October finds us in the walnut orchards of Full Belly Farm, walking with our eyes to the ground, sharing our treasures & cracking two walnuts against each other in our bare hands.  It also has us pulling over along random walnut farms, filling our baskets with the overflow along the roadside.  It's just that we love them so, these wrinkled-wooden spinning tops. Each one holds something no one has ever seen before, & if we pop it into our mouths, no one will ever see again!  

D likes to tell the boys how his mom would set him up with a bowl of walnuts & a spoon so she could prepare dinner in the evenings.  Likewise, these nuts are right up with pine cones as the most-used play item in our home.  If we aren't stopping on our bikes to collect them, we are pounding them out with rubber mallets, "cooking" up a little sumthin'-sumthin,' or selling them to our brothers.  They are fun to play catch with, lovely to display, interesting to smoosh when soft & they are undeniably seasonal, coming only when the pomegranates are beginning to crack.

This is our very favorite nut loaf, from one of my most-used cookbooks.  Bonnie Mandoe ran Maui's first veg catering company, so her dishes run with just the flavors we love.  We sometimes add a wedge of jack cheese & an additional egg.  Once you know the recipe, it's very easy to throw everything into the food processor, then into an oiled casserole.  Usually we make a double batch, for "sausage links" & patties that we pop into the freezer between sheets of parchment.  Or we put them into smaller Pyrex dishes to freeze.  These we defrost & slice before frying.   When my vegetarian children stopped eating veggies & refused to eat meat, we just processed these ingredients very finely & they got everything they needed in their favorite meal.

Nut-Meat Loaf from Vegetarian Nights

"This is the dish to serve friends or relatives who believe they can't make it through the day without their ration of meat.  It's also the dish for anyone who loves a hearty, old-fashioned meal.  When I serve Nut-Meat Loaf with mashed potatoes, a green salad, & an ear or corn, it takes me right back to the 50's."

1 cup cooked brown rice

2 cups grated cheddar cheese

1 cup fresh bread crumbs (optional)

1 cup chopped walnuts

1 cup chopped mushrooms

1 cup chopped onions

1 cup grated carrot

1/2 cup minced green pepper

5 beaten eggs

2 T soy sauce or gf tamari

2 T Dijon mustard

1/2 t each black pepper, thyme, marjoram & sage

Mix all ingredients thoroughly in a large mixing bowl.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Butter a 9-inch square baking pan & press mixture in evenly.  Bake 50-60 minutes, until firm.  Serve hot from the pan.  (We top with mushroom gravy! m)

 

farm math :: the best part

Before the lil' heads can conduct business behind the table...

they gotta learn their product line,

learn standards & distinguish which of their commodities...

are sold by the bunch

the basket

& the pound.

They have to practice greeting, adding fractions & bits.  Give totals.

Pick their favorite produce.  Be patient.

Compost is both a loss & a treasure.  A chance to re-invest.

There is marketing to do, products to display.  It must be beautiful & true, easy-to-see.

 

Then they tell their mamas what to make for dinner.  

At our house?  I was told very clearly to make a "sweet pepper-basil torta with feta & one dozen eggs.  A side of green beans.  With lots of butter.  Lots."  And so it was.

***

Every day at 3 my downstairs turns into a small emporium with chalkboard menus, baskets of walnuts, play produce & football helmets for sale.  The local kids charge siblings between $1-1000 for any given item, but they've learned in their play that giving change is easier when dealing with whole, small bills.  Yesterday they were all wearing Fez hats from Egypt & running a cafe that sold fish tacos.  There are still no limits apparently.  I so treasure this age, the final glimpse at the dreamscapes of their toddler-selves before they begin asking for allowances & creating websites of their own.   

good humus farm :: 1/2

set up by farmer annie, jammaker jen + the kids

 

 molly

culling apples for juice + cider

organic farming = layered ecosystems, building habitats for pest predators

snack time :: dried apricots, cherry tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, melon

field workers getting to know heirloom berries by taste, size

apples, once-pressed by the children

zach, firefighter, farm-boy picking his lunch

midwives for our entire country's produce (muchas gracias, sweet madre!!)

 a chair, a shingled porch after an honest day.  what more do we really need?

I have a 3-inch binder packed with eloquent, heart-melting letters & delicious recipes from Jeff & Annie Main, purveyors of Good Humus Produce.  We just met on their property for the first time: those letters are 2-page bits they deliver to all of their farm members, & came in our weekly CSA-treasure boxes for several years.  I adore the farmer's market & co-op, so we stopped getting the boxes, but I have missed the perspective on those sheets.  Yellowed & broth-stained, they have been a constant source of grounding & consciousness for our family for about 9 years.  

Annie is the original authentic blogger in my mind.  I have memorized quotes from her inquiries regarding true community/individual sustainability & been jaw-dropped at an organic farmer's actual wages.  (Yes, we need to pay our teachers more.  But farmers.  They are the invisible heroes in this world.)  She taught me how to gratin kohlrabi, how to prep dark greens & passed me a favorite soup of thin onions, coconut milk, peas & cilantro.  She doesn't know any of this.  But I can actually feel my heart swelling with gratitude.   Once Jeff gave a nail-biting account of the morning's delivery when the area had been flooded.  As he recounted the condition of their van & his calculations of what was needing to be delivered & the impact of if he didn't make it, or even make it home at all (!) brought to mind the mailman's creed.  Not Wind Nor Rain Nor Sleet or Snow...

We had a chance to spend a couple of days with them, their jam maker Jen & their son Zachary.  It was nothing less than epic.  The kids ran scavenger hunts looking for treasures - like water, compost/soil, habitat & insects before doing skits right there in the orchards.  They made connections about the systems of the farm while weeding,trimming, making ice cream, compost piles, pressed apple juice, garden stones & dinner from produce they picked themselves.   My son, who hates peppers came out of the field chewing a long, neon-red chili pepper that turned out to be bright & sweet.  Before leaving, they found their new "class pet:" Tiger Eye, the biggest, prettiest caterpillar I have ever seen.  Big, like, oh, 3/4" thick & 7 inches long with a red horn on it's acid-green bum.  Apparently they eat tomato crops, so they must go.  And so must I go to sleep.  But the best part of trip was just...Oh, the best...

i heart strawmelon ice cream

straw-melon ice cream

There are many things I Heart.  Ice Cream from fresh fruits.  Family.  Creative Expression.    

 shopping w/ my brother franz + nik, forever sleeping at parties, dave chapelle, us cuz', w/ mos def, me, franz + nik years ago, we sistas

Recently the genius Dave Chapelle had my real-life cousin open with her show, I Heart Lola.  Nikki frequently opens for him, but this is the first time she did her one-women show about losing our Lola's to dementia.  Lola means Grandma in Tagalog.  Really it was about her Lola, but the story is the same.  

Our Grandma Estrella was brilliant & crazy as long as we knew her.  Our Dad's moms were lovely & domestic & fed us ice cream.  And they totally lost it while we were adults.  It sounds harsh to say that, but it's just true.  We both wish we could scoop up our lola's & serve them sweet treats 24/7.  Mine is gone now, & I so miss her, but laughing helps.  It always helps.  

I cried & giggled through the show, but laughed hard going home.  Back stage a very sweet Mos Def was gracious with me while I said silly things like, "I know you, don't I?"  "Are you from San Francisco?"  "No, New Orleans, ever been?"    I had no idea who he was.  Mega-star that he is.  I thought for sure we used to hang as teenagers.  

Fair Warning :: You can work in the entertainment industry, but if your home is media-free, you are in for some embarrassing moments.

Nikki  inspired this recipe.  Marvel at her city-charm in Mickey-D commercial & I Heart Lola trailer below.   

Straw-Melon Ice Cream

8 small strawberries

1 large sweet melon that's soft at the ends

1 cup heavy whipping cream

1 cup raw honey

4 T powdered organic sugar

Blend all.  Pour into ice cream maker.  For fun with the littles, save a few bits of strawberries & cut circles out of a thin melon slice.  Let them decorate & take pics of their desert.

We are so lucky to live in a part of the world with so many fruit trees, good soil & and access to organic dairy.  I wish I could tell you what kind of melon this is, but I can't.  My 10 year-old friend Oliver & I were sharing seeds as I set up our soil trays & I didn't think to label which plants went where.  So our garden has been a complete surprise this past season.  All I know was that this was a big-a** neon yellow melon with a mango-like flavor.    I am all about hard ice cream with a bit of milk to make crystals while D & the boys crave gelato with it's frozen milk-shake consistency.  Even with other melons, this recipe makes a cloud-fluffy cream that is somehow icey and really smooth & creamy.  It makes for a nice family walk around the block.  

***

 

i heart nicole maxali.  join me at her show this month!!

winemaking with children

Back home in California...we were invited out to the foothills for the kids to make some dizzy juice.  This is probably our equivalent of being towed on the ice behind someone's car; a distinct regional opportunity that not everyone partakes in, but it's thrilling & special & feels grown-up.  When I was a kid we'd go to a small farm owned by one of my Pop's fellow firefighters, Bob, his lovely wife & son.  We were inner-city kids.  His place was a totally handmade fantasy-land, filled with awesome & unlikely things like  goats, sunflowers, hammocks & a jacuzzi tower.  The grown-ups would spend the day picking grapes & fussing over the potluck spread, while us kids ran all-over the barn, climbed the loft & ogled at the treehouse where someone was actually living. (!!)  At night there'd be a band & we would get to siphon wine from the barrels into bottles through a tube that required one big nasty/naughty suck to get started.   It was sweet. 

One thing I love about intergenerational communities is the opportunities for diverse experiences like this.  The bittersweet part it how it's always a unique experience, never to be recreated.  Bob now has Alzheimer's, his son is of course, grown, & his now ex-wife is caring for him from her property across the way.  In my mind, the band still plays, & a part of me is still running through the fields, hands full of grapes & crackers.

This family has been making wine for several years & was committed to having the kids experience every part of the process.  The learning in this kind of setting is so mind-boggling to me: Quite separate from the science of measuring the grape sugars, learning the fermenting & disinfecting processes, exploring the gears & machinery & the art of taking turns, is the chance to play with learning mentors.  To engage with elders playing full-out at something they're really into, & have been into for a while is a rare opportunity in our country.  We were watching the couple who invited us & their dear friend dialogue over whether or not to press the last bit of "cake," if there would be too many tannins at that point to make good wine.  

I asked the husband, "Was she a hot homesteader when you met her?"  He replied with the biggest smile ever, "Yes."

And there you have it.  Another lesson of what it looks like to be in love.  Sheesh.  I could just go on & on about that.  To be in love with a hobby & in love with the land & in love with your family & in love with your partner.  It doesn't look like an easy life.  It looks like a good life.  I'm paying lots of attention.

breakfast #30 :: fruit bake

   

Is it Number #30?  I don't know.  Seems right.  Regardless, we've been eating this 5 different ways, so that should make up for the difference.  Strawberries, sliced.  Pears, shredded.  Apples, chopped.  Plums, peaches.  I'm hoping Percy, our persimmon-stealing squirrel has left us some fruit at home.  Today it was nectarines & blueberries.  I call it clafouti, but the boys keep reminding me that it's so not.  I just keep offering it up, announcing, "Clafouti!" So I can see them clamber to the picnic tables to remind me with much concern that it is "not a clafouti, a clafouti is slippy & soft.  It's a Fruit Bake."  "Yeah a fruit bake."  "It's a fute bake, mom!"  I love seeing them correct me in birth order.  

Often times they just take over the making of this dish, which has resulted in an occasional sweet & chewy granola bottom & a one-time hard-as-rocks biscuit-style topping.  But I like to let them do their thing.  It's a great kid recipe.

So our Clafouti/Fruit Bake is simply a buttered dish with 2 cups of fruit on the bottom, drizzled with maple syrup & cinnamon.  It's topped with 1 cup of pancake batter (Pamela's makes really amazing gf pancake mix) & a generous toss of organic brown sugar crystals & baked at 350' for 15 minutes.  I'm inclined to forgo the sugar, but they are right.  It's way better that way.

   

 

cod tian + swedish potato gratin

  

I think it all started with the latest issue of Jamie, where I realized for the umpteenth time that while his super-fast recipes, creamy matte card stock pages, electric fonts & sick track jackets make my heart all aflutter, his English recipes don't directly translate into my own world.  And for the first time that, well, maybe they could.  So I put on one of D's track jackets in my favorite color.  This one, actually:

 And how could I not get a little fired up?  (That's my love.  38-going-on-17.  And jacked about that farm plate.  See his little "Paid" tag?)  

Then I realized if I go the Euro-food route I'd need to throw in a little drink, so I began to rummage through D's choice GF ciders.  A life-long beer lover, he's on constant lookout for distinct, crisp & authentic drinks that happen to be gluten-free.  I drink sparkling water. Anywhoo.

That little blue casserole had also been distracting me though our last 5 meals, so I finally gave in asked myself what I thought it was wanting from me.  (What?  What is it wanting from me?) Something cute, rustic.  Something from A Trail of Crumbs, the lovely & glamourous I'm-not-ready-for-such-goodness-not-to-mention I'm-head-of-a-fashion-household-and-frequent-the-markets-of-Provence, but-we-all-know-I-don't-belong-here memoir that I am so loving right now.  So I played with her version of Jansson's Frestelse (Swedish Potato Temptation) to become a light & brothy bit of scalloped anchovies & potatoes.

We had a memorably moving visit to a recreation of Patuxet, the Native village that Plymouth was built on & home of the first Thanksgiving meal.  There was an outdoor kitchen area where this stew of cod, hominy, maize & beans was looking simple but smelling nourishing & fulfilling in a way that had us bolt for our dinners, but not before taking some notes on how to make it at home.

 
 So we ended up with a  cheesy veggie-rich cod tian/ fish pie/ seafood casserole/sumthin' sumthin,' plus a salty, al dente pillow of potatoes with extra cream for making the tian a bit of a chow-dah.  (Sorry I couldn't resist.  Out here you don't say chowder.  You say Chow-dah!)  Supper that sticks to your teeth while you laugh & your neighbor slurps her spoon as your kids place a pile of corn cob bits on your napkin while the sun sets.  My kind of dinner.  

These days, but also in general, I don't measure.  I don't record.  But this is what I did.  When we had eaten half of each, we loaded the rest into the little blue pot for a one-dish repeat the next day, baked at 350' for 30 minutes, with the cover on for the first 20.  
 

Swedish-ish Potato Gratin - Concept

(Adapted from A Trail of Crumbs by Kim Sunee)

  Slice 5 small thin-skinned potatoes & one yellow onion.  Butter a small covered casserole & layer the potatoes over the bottom & sides, reserving half.  Follow with all of the onions, the remaining potatoes & 6 jarred anchovies, plus 1 tablespoon of their oil.  Cover with half & half + 1inch.  Cover & bake at 350' for 35 minutes, check for potatoes to be fork-tender.

Cod Tian - Concept

Using a large oven-proof pan, brown two large cod fillets in a bit of olive oil.  Keep cooking until it all flakes off into little non-descript brown flakes.  Remove to a bowl & season with salt & pepper.  Leave the brown bits stuck to the pan for the next step.  Cut 3 corn cobs into 1" coins.  I take a heavy knife & press into them, then lift the knife along with the cob & give another good bang.  Make sure you are alone & be careful, for goodness sakes.  Then I take each coin & slice it in half.  Okay.  Finely crush & chop four cloves of garlic.  Add both to the pan with 2 Rapunzel Organic Bouillon cubes with herbs (no salt), turn the heat to medium-high & add a good cup of Woodchuck Granny Smith Hard Cider to deglaze the sides.  Use an fresh wooden spoon to fend off the band of men who come rushing into the cabin kitchen because dinner's still a half-hour off.  Okay.

Add a cup of water & 10 finely chopped kale leaves.  Kale is no trouble, really.  Just grab the green with the fingers of one hand, & pull the stem hard with your other.  ("You should saute those stems, Mom.  Just do it with some lemon juice & olive oil so they don't got to waste."  Okay, um, good idea.)  Stir it all & cover.  When they are half-wilted (a few minutes) add a cup of frozen sweet peas.  Season with salt pepper & a good bit of dried thyme.  If you are me, you add a splash of fish sauce here.  Now.  Add the cod.  Fold in a handful of shredded organic white cheddar.  Add some water if it looks dry- it should be soupy.  Chop up some white bread (we used Gillian's wheat, gluten & dairy free French Rolls)  & evenly cover the top.  Cover with white & yellow cheddar.  Broil.  Serve them together, outside, with a bit of drink.

gingerbread in hindsight...

 

I can't believe I'm really only seeing this now, after it's been in the laundry room for 3 weeks.  It's so very beautiful.  With our family's chemical sensitivities, & a four year-old who's every-other-sentence goes something like, "thank you! for letting sneek a piece of..." this thing has been the source of so very much agitation.  And I feel like such a jerk now looking at how lovely it is.

I love gingerbread houses.  I don't have chemical sensitivities!!  I want to jump up & down, "It's not me!  It's not me!"  I sometimes just want us to be normal, to not be so strict about such things, to let everyone eat whatever they want.  But it really is true - I almost died twice because of this stuff + the way these kids react to it.  The standard white sugar.  The food colorings, particularly.  The wheat.  The mystery man-made ingredients.  All of it they can eat sometimes.  All of it they have been de-allergized to, so technically, it's "okay."  But all of it has the potential to be a big problem.  Mainly we see the subtle changes in them from just a small amount - moodiness, worry, neediness, & just a lower energy all the way around.   A big difference from our singing, dancing, cooking crew.   

And D & I can't stand saying no to them.  Can't stand it.  Especially when they act obsessed.

I like to think we're flexible.  True's (8) entire homeschooling curriculum revolves around candy-making, candy factories, candy sampling + written reviews, candy science.  Okay.  Now that I'm writing that, making I'm making them obsessed with it.  But it's a real passion of his, & I think he's met his path, maybe.   We have lots of candy-making to post, actually.  

AND, a 3-week, 3-voice request to sample something made 100% out of ingredients we don't stock at our home brings out the worst in me as a parent.  Next time I have to make sure it stays with their grandparents 2 hours away.   Then they can sample it in bits when they're there.  The laundry room was an out-of-site, out-of-mind attempt.

But now I'm really seeing the work that was done & I'm wanting to get us a beautiful glass display case.  I'm loving the placement of every little gum drop, the little flower boxes under the window sills, the scalloped roof.  Maybe we'll feed it to the birds tomorrow with our New Year's blessings, & I'll just go ahead & frame these pictures to be enjoyed for forever during the holidays.  And next year we'll start from scratch with ingredients we do eat.   I love them, I swear I have books on the subject, but just haven't gotten round to the scratch thing...

Look at these historically accurate  ones from our friends at Homeschooling in the Kitchen.  Now Susan is one patient mom.  And hilarious.  Love her.

breakfast #30 :: mushroom-tomato-feta quesadillas (gluten free)

i hope everyone's remembering to eat their breakfasts.:)  

if i had one wish for all the world this year, it would be that every person would experience all the joys of breakfast, each & every morning.  and that the meals would give them the nourishment, strength, heart & clarity to be fully themselves, for themselves, their loved ones, & their communities.

i'm loving a little plain yogurt to replace the sour cream in the morning.  and fuji apples just for crunch.  d's the one who taught me to love each & every tortilla with a good browning in butter or earth balance.  he's right, i never skip this step now.  he's so willing to prepare for his enjoyment, like re-building & washing down a paddleboat each & every year.  i just walk outside & feel so happy i'm not into doing another thing.  but he's so right about the extra love & attention.  everything needs it.

and the great thing about giving care is that it gives energy, while giving gestures & tokens takes energy.  there's so much more impact when we put our heart into the little things, i think.  

sometimes i see this at work when i'm cooking a sure-thing for the kids, but my head is somewhere else.  they just aren't hungry.  and then when i'm all excited about a new recipe, when i take the time to put on my favorite apron, or better yet, to put the boys' aprons on them, they'll eat nearly anything.  but tomatoes & mushrooms, not so much right now.  it's a grownup breakfast, i hear.