I had this mostly written last night, then Nik got home. We fell asleep right after dinner and didn't wake up until is extremely annoying alarm clock when off at 6:30. He shut if off and then went back to sleep...
Too Much Garlic?
There is no such thing as too much garlic. That is what I used to say until I found out that it is, in fact, quite possible to overdue garlic.
My old roommate, Danica, and I used to love roasting bulbs of garlic and then eating the cloves with crackers and brie. It is amazing. (See the previous blog entry for garlic roasting instructions.) This favorite little snack was usually accompanied with red wine. We loved drinking red wine together so much that we decided to start making red wine. Why not right?
We tossed the idea around for a while until, as if it was a sign, Groupon had a sale from Wine Experts on starter kits. We each bought a kit and on an evening we both had off of work we got started on our very first batch of wine.
My parents have been making their own wine for years. I had watched my mom do it many times and felt pretty comfortable, at first. Before we even opened the kit we were calling my mom.
After receiving careful and detailed instructions from my mom we changed into hair-dye shirts (the grape juice can stain stuff and who needs pants anyway) then serialized all the equipment and began the process. We got as far as dumping in the grape juice base out of the box before having to call my mom again. And that part was hard, the juice part that is, the calling my mom part is easy. I have her on speed dial.
It was the cap that was a little scary. It just wouldn’t budge. I grabbed a butter knife as Danica made a disapproving “um” noise. After some prying, pulling and swearing I almost removed my thumb as, finally, the cap popped off and went flying across the room.
My mom instructed us, for the third time, to add some warm water to the bag that the juice was in to rinse out any left over juices from the bag. Then she reminded us to begin stirring the liquid while we added the bentonite then keep stirring for 30 seconds. The we were supposed to top of the primary, that is what the big barrel wine is started in is called, with room temperature water. We were also supposed to keep checking the temperature of the water.
Before hanging up the phone this time my mom asked, “are you guys drinking wine while you are making wine for the first time?”
“Um, yah.” I answered as if this should have been obvious.
“You’re sure that’s a good idea?”
“We’ll be fine mom. Thanks! Love you!”
With our wine we, of course, were having garlic and brie. We were on our first two bulbs of garlic and getting into our second bottle of wine. The sterilization process brought us though most of the first bottle. We went on our way forgetting that the tap was still on warm and not taking temperatures until Danica remembered we were supposed to keeping the wine between 22-24 degrees Celsius.
We were at 29.5 degrees and only had about four liters to correct it. Woops. We turned the tap to cold to top off the primary at 23 liters. The temperature was 26.5 degrees. Both the instructions in the wine kit and my mom said “Do Not Add Yeast Unless The Wine is Between 22-24 Degrees Celsius.” My mom said it just like that with capital letters on every word but “is”. I didn’t want to call her but Danica made me.
“You dork. Do you have ice.” My mom said after I explained the hiccup.
“Um, three cubes.”
“Well open your windows and wait.” It was the beginning of October so it was fairly cool outside. “I’m going to bed. Stop drinking so much wine and don’t add that yeast until the temperature drops.”
So we had some waiting to do. It took forever! We roasted more garlic and opened another bottle. We chattered away and checked the temperature every half an hour. We had decided that with the window open that we did need pants after all, and sweaters. We had a glazed concrete floor in that apartment. Thank god, because carpet or even laminate wouldn’t have helped cool down at all.
Four hours, another bottle of wine and a total of six roasted bulbs of garlic later it had dropped to 24.5. Good enough!
We placed the primary under the kitchen table, where the wine would live for the next few weeks, and sprinkled the yeast over the top.
“Should we stir it?” Danica asked.
“No, we just let it sit on top like that.”
“You sure.”
“yup.”
“Don’t you have a date tomorrow?” Danica asked.
“Yup.”
“You stink dude. And I don’t think it is going to get any better by tomorrow night. Maybe we shouldn’t have ate so much garlic?”
“Oh shit.” I replied. Then we burst out laughing.
The next day we both stank like death. I had the worst, and I mean the worst garlic farts all night. I almost died in my sleep from lack of oxygen. I woke myself up gagging, at least three times.
The smell off of the two of us filled the whole apartment. It was like a sort-of garlic body odor. It was horrid. We drank tons of water and had hot showers, hopping that would help move the garlic through our system.
At work I asked Nicole and Bentley, “do I stink.”
“Yes!” Nicole replied. “I wasn’t going to say anything but, wow Jenn. What did you eat?”
I told them about the garlic and the wine-making shenanigans.
Bentley just laughed and said, “Don’t you have a date tonight?” and kept laughing.
“You are not going on a date smelling like that.” Said Nicole.
For the rest of the day Nicole monitored my stench until at about three-o-clock when I officially cancelled my date. I never rescheduled that date. Not because of garlic but because I met Nik right around that time as well, and we’re working on happily ever after. He doesn’t seem to mind when I’m stinky anyway. He does know the garlic story and rolls his eyes and laughs when I bring up roasting garlic.
Danica and I have implemented a 1.5 bulb per person rule as a sort-of kindness to those of you who have to stand near us the mornings after.
I'm putting a new recipe on the story about my Grandpa, "Gifts" and putting the recipe that is there here. I found some of my grandma's recipes and thought that one should go with that story.
I think, and I’m not alone on this one, that cooking for people is a way of showing them they are loved. I like to make this for people when I want them to feel special because it looks so pretty. It doesn’t really have a name. Maybe you guys can help me with that?
Nameless Yummy Thing (Contains Garlic)
Ingredients:
4-6 Beef Carpaccio (The super thin cuts of raw meat about 3-5” wide and about 8-12” long, usually from tenderloin.)
1 Tbls Vegeta (or your favorite meat seasoning)
3 Tbs olive oil
2 finely chopped pieces of garlic
Juice squeezed from ½ a lemon
Freshly ground black pepper
- Place all the above ingredients into a bowl or Tupperware marinating container and set aside for 20minutes to overnight.
Zucchini
Asparagus
Red onion
Red and/or yellow sweet pepper
Gouda (I sometimes use grated parmesan-reggiano instead)
Cut the veggies and cheese into strips about two inches longer than the width of the carpaccio. About two pieces of each veggie and one piece of cheese. Try to keep them about 1-1.5cm thick. You switch the veggies up a bit but keep them about the same thickness and length.
Preheat oven to 425F
Place 2 of each of the cut veggies widthwise on 1 piece of meat about 2- inches from and end. Place two pieces of each veggie and one piece of the cheese or grate parmesan generously over the veggies and meat. Wrap the meat around the veggies starting with the shorter end and continuing until the meat has been completely wrapped around. Place the wrap on an oven safe dish then bake for 20-30 minutes.
For a side slice a sweet potato (not a yam) into 1 mm slices and toss in salt, pepper, basil, oregano and olive oil then bake along with the meat. Take them out when they start to brown around the edges and get a little crispy.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Mellow Board (A.K.A. Charcuterie Board) -Just because it is one of those days-
Today is Tuesday the 27th day of March 2012 and it is a brie day! Brie days are sometimes complicated annoying days where you come home, take a look at your todo list, say “Fuck this” then get back in the car and go to the grocery store to buy the items on the list bellow. Or, they are days when you just feel like making something cute to snack on for you and one of your girl (or guy) friends. My old roommate, Danica, and I used to have brie days a few times each week. I actually had to cancel a date once due to a brie night. Well, more the garlic portion of the brie night. I’ll tell you about that Thrusday. Read through this whole post before you go shopping, you may want to add a few items to your list. Also, take a quick look through your cupboards and fridge for inspiration.
Your Brie Day Shopping List:
Musts:
• 2-3 bulbs of garlic
• Olive oil (This should already be in your cupboard)
• 1 wheel of brie – I buy the Monte Christo 125g from the Cheese Isle at Safeway. It is lovely and a few dollars less than the wheels in the deli.
• A nice baguette
• Some balsamic vinegar (this should also always be in your cupboard)
• 1 small tub of mixed olives from the deli section
• 1 pack of prosciutto (or 100g of something fancy form the deli)
• Crackers – Wheat thins or flax crackers are nice.
• 1 bottle of your favorite wine. I suggest a full-bodied red. (If you live near a real wine store like Bin 104 go there. Tell them you want a nice red to go with brie and smoked meats that will make you go “ahhh…”
Optional: (But sometimes musts if it was a “Fuck this shit day” not just a “fuck this” day)
• A second bottle of wine
• Your favorite chocolate
• A new album from an artist that you’ve been meaning to get for a while, (something chill)
The first thing you do when you get home is open your wine and pour a glass. I’m drinking a Chilean Cabernet Savignon. Preheat your oven or toaster-oven to 420F. Then grab a cutting board and a sharp knife then cut the tops of the bulbs of garlic. You just want to shave a ½ - 1 cm off. Enough to create about a 1-inch surface area on the top of the bulb. Make a snug little bowl out of a large piece of tin foil around the garlic, leaving excess to close the package off. If you have white wine open then pour a little splash in there making sure you get some inside the bulb around the cloves, about 1-3 tbls. If you don’t have wine it’s not worth buying or opening a bottle for. Then drizzle a little olive oil over and around the bulbs. I have a roasting oil with herbs in it that I use but you can use just plain olive oil and, if you like, add herbs and perhaps some cracked black pepper. Wrap the tin foil over the garlic and make a tight seal at the top. Put it in the oven until it the cloves are soft all the way through. This takes a few taste tests and about 30-45 minutes. The clove should pop right out of the skin and pretty much melt in your mouth. Let it cool before you test it! It really sucks if you don’t, trust me…
Alright, now you grab your cleanest prettiest cutting board or small platter, to arrange your items all neat-like on. I use a little wooden one from the dollar store. Grab a small dainty little bowl or sauce dish for olive pits and garlic skins and a small plate or bowl for crackers. You’ll need another small plate for olive oil and balsamic.
Rip off a hunk of the baguette, about 6-8 inches long, and set it aside. Pour some olive oil and balsamic vinegar in equal parts on the small plate. You will tear smaller bite sized hunks of bread off and swirl them around on the plate, soaking up a little of both liquids then pop it your mouth. You should be feeling a little less “fuck-this-ish” by now.
Take a few pieces of the prosciutto, cut them in half then roll the halves up. I had to skewer them onto tooth-picks because mine was dryer and wouldn’t stay rolled. Place them on the board somewhere then grab your brie, cut the wheel into quarters and place 1-2 quarters on the board.
I happened to have olives from the Olive Me booth at the Strathcona Farmers Market on had so I made little olive kabobs. You could just place a few olives on the board. I also had some tapenade and grainy mustard so I put a scoop of each on the board too. There was some Suho Meso smoked beef from the Cheese Factory on hand as well. I sliced up some pieces off and you guessed it, placed them on the board, right beside the olive kabobs to be precise. I cut four cherry tomatoes in half and scattered them about as well.
There was some cilantro and basil in one of my crispers so I made a little basil bed for my garlic and placed a few sprigs of cilantro around as well. When the garlic was ready I placed it then put my baguette in the oven (I bake my own bread, but store bought is fine if that’s not your thing.) See what else you have on hand. If it is snacky and looks pretty it probably qualifies.
You should now have a spread of amazing deliciousness in front of you by now. Put on CBC or CKUA, or that album you may have bought. Pour another glass of wine and nibble away.
I’m done my board-o-mellow, and the bread is smelling about done. I’m going to watch Earthship videos and stuff my face now. Happy Tuesday!
Your Brie Day Shopping List:
Musts:
• 2-3 bulbs of garlic
• Olive oil (This should already be in your cupboard)
• 1 wheel of brie – I buy the Monte Christo 125g from the Cheese Isle at Safeway. It is lovely and a few dollars less than the wheels in the deli.
• A nice baguette
• Some balsamic vinegar (this should also always be in your cupboard)
• 1 small tub of mixed olives from the deli section
• 1 pack of prosciutto (or 100g of something fancy form the deli)
• Crackers – Wheat thins or flax crackers are nice.
• 1 bottle of your favorite wine. I suggest a full-bodied red. (If you live near a real wine store like Bin 104 go there. Tell them you want a nice red to go with brie and smoked meats that will make you go “ahhh…”
Optional: (But sometimes musts if it was a “Fuck this shit day” not just a “fuck this” day)
• A second bottle of wine
• Your favorite chocolate
• A new album from an artist that you’ve been meaning to get for a while, (something chill)
The first thing you do when you get home is open your wine and pour a glass. I’m drinking a Chilean Cabernet Savignon. Preheat your oven or toaster-oven to 420F. Then grab a cutting board and a sharp knife then cut the tops of the bulbs of garlic. You just want to shave a ½ - 1 cm off. Enough to create about a 1-inch surface area on the top of the bulb. Make a snug little bowl out of a large piece of tin foil around the garlic, leaving excess to close the package off. If you have white wine open then pour a little splash in there making sure you get some inside the bulb around the cloves, about 1-3 tbls. If you don’t have wine it’s not worth buying or opening a bottle for. Then drizzle a little olive oil over and around the bulbs. I have a roasting oil with herbs in it that I use but you can use just plain olive oil and, if you like, add herbs and perhaps some cracked black pepper. Wrap the tin foil over the garlic and make a tight seal at the top. Put it in the oven until it the cloves are soft all the way through. This takes a few taste tests and about 30-45 minutes. The clove should pop right out of the skin and pretty much melt in your mouth. Let it cool before you test it! It really sucks if you don’t, trust me…
Alright, now you grab your cleanest prettiest cutting board or small platter, to arrange your items all neat-like on. I use a little wooden one from the dollar store. Grab a small dainty little bowl or sauce dish for olive pits and garlic skins and a small plate or bowl for crackers. You’ll need another small plate for olive oil and balsamic.
Rip off a hunk of the baguette, about 6-8 inches long, and set it aside. Pour some olive oil and balsamic vinegar in equal parts on the small plate. You will tear smaller bite sized hunks of bread off and swirl them around on the plate, soaking up a little of both liquids then pop it your mouth. You should be feeling a little less “fuck-this-ish” by now.
Take a few pieces of the prosciutto, cut them in half then roll the halves up. I had to skewer them onto tooth-picks because mine was dryer and wouldn’t stay rolled. Place them on the board somewhere then grab your brie, cut the wheel into quarters and place 1-2 quarters on the board.
I happened to have olives from the Olive Me booth at the Strathcona Farmers Market on had so I made little olive kabobs. You could just place a few olives on the board. I also had some tapenade and grainy mustard so I put a scoop of each on the board too. There was some Suho Meso smoked beef from the Cheese Factory on hand as well. I sliced up some pieces off and you guessed it, placed them on the board, right beside the olive kabobs to be precise. I cut four cherry tomatoes in half and scattered them about as well.
There was some cilantro and basil in one of my crispers so I made a little basil bed for my garlic and placed a few sprigs of cilantro around as well. When the garlic was ready I placed it then put my baguette in the oven (I bake my own bread, but store bought is fine if that’s not your thing.) See what else you have on hand. If it is snacky and looks pretty it probably qualifies.
You should now have a spread of amazing deliciousness in front of you by now. Put on CBC or CKUA, or that album you may have bought. Pour another glass of wine and nibble away.
I’m done my board-o-mellow, and the bread is smelling about done. I’m going to watch Earthship videos and stuff my face now. Happy Tuesday!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Gifts
My favorite picture of my Grandpa Wright, Ralph, and I is of the two of us sitting face to face. I’m perched on a little wooden stool with jam on my face and my crazy brown curly afro springing in all directions. (My hair relaxed at about four-years-old.) My grandpa is sitting on one of those chairs from the 70’s and 80’s with the metal legs and bad vinyl upholstery. He is wearing a red and white flannel shirt with a white undershirt. He looks very grandpa like but youngish compared to my more recent memories of him. Our feet are in an orange tub.
This is a picture of our nightly Epson-salt footbaths. We were, and still are if you ask me, pretty good buds. When he was around I was his little shadow and had to do everything he was doing. I would get quite upset when I was not allowed to have my own axe to help him chop wood. What toddler wouldn’t? He was my hero and I wanted to be just like him.
I giggle a little when I am driving with someone who crosses over the centre line or hits the rumble strips. So long as there is no oncoming traffic that is. My grandpa was a dreamer. He was a creator really, but in order to create one must first dream. I giggle because of a story my parents have repeated often over my years. It has become a sort of inside joke. My grandpa would slip into his daydreams while driving, which drove my grandmother bonkers of course. Each time the car would falter off to the right or the left she would yell “Ralph!” But the way she yelled it, dragging the ‘r’ making his name sound as if it was coming out of a cat as its tail was being slammed in a door.
As a wee little brat I thought this was a hilarious way to address my grandpa. I thought it was so much fun to randomly yell “Ralph!”, just for kicks, in the car while my dad was driving. My parents always got a good giggle out it. My grandma did not. But she is good spirited enough to not take offence. I still like to mimic her when driving with my dad if he falters to left of right. As a matter of fact so does my mom.
In those daydreams Grandpa could have been dreaming up something that he was planning on building or improving upon. Or he could have been thinking about one of his poems. He was famous for writing poems and short stories on napkins and scraps of paper in the coffee shops he would frequent. My grandma would find some of them in his shirt or pant pockets and did her best to save them. We are sure that for every one she found and saved there are two that were left behind on napkin with a coffee stain from the spoon he stirred around in mug he was sipping on as he wrote.
I didn’t see very many of these poems until just before he passed away about eight years ago. Some of us grandchildren picked a few to read at his memorial service. I had been toying with the idea of a tattoo for a while but had no idea what I wanted to get. After reading through the yellow duo-tang of his salvaged words I decided that when the time was right I would get one of, or part of one of, his poems.
The time came last winter. My brother, Travis, and I looked through a few of our favorites and settled on a poem Grandpa wrote in 1973 called Gifts. Travis was going to get the first two verses and I was going to get the last two. The whole poem as one tattoo would take up too much space as the letters should be fairly large.
We researched a shops and artists in Edmonton and settled on a female artists named Jakob, at a shop called Atomic Zombie. We booked an entire Saturday on November 11th. Fitting, as our grandpa was in the Canadian forces and these were to be memorial tattoos. As the date drew near my brother’s life got busy and he had to back out. I was pretty bummed-out but was going ahead with the appointment anyway. I was starting with the fourth and final verse on my upper left arm. Jakob and I had decided on a font and she had created a beautiful henna like back scheme. I arranged to have my partner Nik and one of my best friends Nicole come to take shifts to hold my hand. I was nervous but so stoked that I was finally going through with this.
On the morning of the 11th Nik dropped me off at the entrance of the shop then went to park. He took before pictures of my arm and waited with me while Jakob prepped her equipment and then prepped me. I squeezed his hand and anticipated the great and horrible pain that some had warmed me of while reminding myself that most of the ladies who I knew with tattoos had said it wasn’t as bad as the guys said it was.
The gun started with a buzz then hit my arm. Then the dull burn began. It really wasn’t that bad. Uncomfortable yes but not unbearable. It felt sort of like a sunburn moving around. I sent Nik off to do the weekly Saturday shopping at the Farmers Market, assuring him that I was fine and that Nicole would be by soon to hold my hand. He went off about his day and Nicole, assuming that Nik was with me went on about hers. Jakob and I took two breaks and chatted a bit between my self induced zone-outs. I thought about calling one of my support team members to come down. I assumed that they both assumed the other was with me. I decided that I was in my zone and just fine on my own. Jakob was good company and she probably didn’t need any extra distractions as she was putting permanent ink into my arm.
Jakob finished most of the front-face of my arm by about six-thirty. All the lettering and the design she had planned, plus some little extras she put in free hand are in rusty reds, browns and oranges. I loved it. I still love it.
Nik tried to sneak up behind me as Jakob was wrapping my arm in aftercare products. He apologized for not coming back and I assured him that I was just fine on my own and glad it turned out that way. After all, I had Jakob there to chat with when I was feeling chatty and she left me be while I was zoning out. I am sure my grandpa was chilling with us too.
Before leaving the shop I made another appointment for the 19th of April and left the shop with words to live by from one of my greatest heroes right where I will see them each and every day.
“Of all the gifts that you’ve received to enhance the life you live, by far the greatest gift of all is the gift of love you give.”
Grammie Cool’s Lazy Daisy Cake
Cake:
Cream together 2 eggs and 1 cup of sugar
Sift together 1 cup of flour, 1 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt then stir into egg and sugar mixture.
In a non-stick sauce pan bring 1 cup of milk and 1 tbs of butter to a simmer. Stir into the other ingredients.
Bake for 20 minutes at 350F
Frosting:
Blend together ½ cup of brown sugar 1/4 tbls butter, 1 tbls milk, ¾ cup coconut. Spread over warm cake then put back in the oven for 3-4 minutes or until the top is browned.
This is a picture of our nightly Epson-salt footbaths. We were, and still are if you ask me, pretty good buds. When he was around I was his little shadow and had to do everything he was doing. I would get quite upset when I was not allowed to have my own axe to help him chop wood. What toddler wouldn’t? He was my hero and I wanted to be just like him.
I giggle a little when I am driving with someone who crosses over the centre line or hits the rumble strips. So long as there is no oncoming traffic that is. My grandpa was a dreamer. He was a creator really, but in order to create one must first dream. I giggle because of a story my parents have repeated often over my years. It has become a sort of inside joke. My grandpa would slip into his daydreams while driving, which drove my grandmother bonkers of course. Each time the car would falter off to the right or the left she would yell “Ralph!” But the way she yelled it, dragging the ‘r’ making his name sound as if it was coming out of a cat as its tail was being slammed in a door.
As a wee little brat I thought this was a hilarious way to address my grandpa. I thought it was so much fun to randomly yell “Ralph!”, just for kicks, in the car while my dad was driving. My parents always got a good giggle out it. My grandma did not. But she is good spirited enough to not take offence. I still like to mimic her when driving with my dad if he falters to left of right. As a matter of fact so does my mom.
In those daydreams Grandpa could have been dreaming up something that he was planning on building or improving upon. Or he could have been thinking about one of his poems. He was famous for writing poems and short stories on napkins and scraps of paper in the coffee shops he would frequent. My grandma would find some of them in his shirt or pant pockets and did her best to save them. We are sure that for every one she found and saved there are two that were left behind on napkin with a coffee stain from the spoon he stirred around in mug he was sipping on as he wrote.
I didn’t see very many of these poems until just before he passed away about eight years ago. Some of us grandchildren picked a few to read at his memorial service. I had been toying with the idea of a tattoo for a while but had no idea what I wanted to get. After reading through the yellow duo-tang of his salvaged words I decided that when the time was right I would get one of, or part of one of, his poems.
The time came last winter. My brother, Travis, and I looked through a few of our favorites and settled on a poem Grandpa wrote in 1973 called Gifts. Travis was going to get the first two verses and I was going to get the last two. The whole poem as one tattoo would take up too much space as the letters should be fairly large.
We researched a shops and artists in Edmonton and settled on a female artists named Jakob, at a shop called Atomic Zombie. We booked an entire Saturday on November 11th. Fitting, as our grandpa was in the Canadian forces and these were to be memorial tattoos. As the date drew near my brother’s life got busy and he had to back out. I was pretty bummed-out but was going ahead with the appointment anyway. I was starting with the fourth and final verse on my upper left arm. Jakob and I had decided on a font and she had created a beautiful henna like back scheme. I arranged to have my partner Nik and one of my best friends Nicole come to take shifts to hold my hand. I was nervous but so stoked that I was finally going through with this.
On the morning of the 11th Nik dropped me off at the entrance of the shop then went to park. He took before pictures of my arm and waited with me while Jakob prepped her equipment and then prepped me. I squeezed his hand and anticipated the great and horrible pain that some had warmed me of while reminding myself that most of the ladies who I knew with tattoos had said it wasn’t as bad as the guys said it was.
The gun started with a buzz then hit my arm. Then the dull burn began. It really wasn’t that bad. Uncomfortable yes but not unbearable. It felt sort of like a sunburn moving around. I sent Nik off to do the weekly Saturday shopping at the Farmers Market, assuring him that I was fine and that Nicole would be by soon to hold my hand. He went off about his day and Nicole, assuming that Nik was with me went on about hers. Jakob and I took two breaks and chatted a bit between my self induced zone-outs. I thought about calling one of my support team members to come down. I assumed that they both assumed the other was with me. I decided that I was in my zone and just fine on my own. Jakob was good company and she probably didn’t need any extra distractions as she was putting permanent ink into my arm.
Jakob finished most of the front-face of my arm by about six-thirty. All the lettering and the design she had planned, plus some little extras she put in free hand are in rusty reds, browns and oranges. I loved it. I still love it.
Nik tried to sneak up behind me as Jakob was wrapping my arm in aftercare products. He apologized for not coming back and I assured him that I was just fine on my own and glad it turned out that way. After all, I had Jakob there to chat with when I was feeling chatty and she left me be while I was zoning out. I am sure my grandpa was chilling with us too.
Before leaving the shop I made another appointment for the 19th of April and left the shop with words to live by from one of my greatest heroes right where I will see them each and every day.
“Of all the gifts that you’ve received to enhance the life you live, by far the greatest gift of all is the gift of love you give.”
Grammie Cool’s Lazy Daisy Cake
Cake:
Cream together 2 eggs and 1 cup of sugar
Sift together 1 cup of flour, 1 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt then stir into egg and sugar mixture.
In a non-stick sauce pan bring 1 cup of milk and 1 tbs of butter to a simmer. Stir into the other ingredients.
Bake for 20 minutes at 350F
Frosting:
Blend together ½ cup of brown sugar 1/4 tbls butter, 1 tbls milk, ¾ cup coconut. Spread over warm cake then put back in the oven for 3-4 minutes or until the top is browned.
Friday, March 9, 2012
kevin Kossowan
We just had an amazing speaker, Kevin Kossowan, at the SA MacEwan Common Ground event. He and his family live an amazing sustainable and local lifestyle here in Edmonton. They eat about 95% locally and have very affordable and fun ways of doing so.
Want to learn more about local and sustainable living? Check this out. www.kevinkossowan.com
Want to learn more about local and sustainable living? Check this out. www.kevinkossowan.com
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Common Ground
This week is Common Ground at MacEwan University, where I work with The Students’ Association, and we are focusing on acting local. It is easy to get super excited about sustainable living and supporting local business, especially food producers. If we grow our own food or buy from local growers we can drastically reduce our carbon footprint. Plus the food tastes better. Shopping in the organic food isle, at the grocery store, doesn’t count as shopping local. A lot of that produce is shipped, on average, 1500 km and often more just like the non-organic. Growing some of your own food can also make a significant impact on carbon waste reduction. At the very least, I like to grow my own tomatoes, chives and basil. It doesn’t take a ton of effort and it makes me feel great when I cook with items I grew myself.
Growing up, I enjoyed the benefits of a family who found the value in living sustainably. Truthfully, my parents were starving-students with three younglings and it was much cheaper to live this way. My mom and dad have always kept a garden, even if it was just a 3x5 plot in front of their student housing townhouse. My dad has hunted for much of our meat and caught a great deal of our fish. They freeze veggies and there was time when my mom was canning various things and even making yogurt from scratch. At a time when she was also making vanilla pudding from scratch it was always a little risky, as a five-year-old, to grab a spoonful of whatever creamy substance was in a bowl as it wasn’t always sweet and yummy, yet.
At the peak of their sustainable living efforts we were living in Worsley Alberta. My mom was grinding wheat for four, my dad was hunting deer and other game and they were both gardening and raising chickens and pheasants. Our family was in one of our poorest financial states then but we were defiantly eating well. I remember that food tasting the best, and those years being when we ate together as a family the most. We were involved, together, as a family building and creating a life rather than just moving through it.
Although us three younglings where barely three apples tall, we had our roles. My brother at two-years-old was the designated egg dropper and the designated dog fetcher to clean up dropped eggs. He would grab an egg from the basket one of us had set down, step away and drop the egg then holler, “Puppy! Egg!” Then our dopey cocker-spaniel, Andrew, would gallop up with his ears flopping everywhere to devour the egg mess. I think he got as much on his ears as he did in his mouth.
My sister, then four-years-old, and I would fetch eggs and feed the chickens. Sometimes we would help tend the garden with close supervision from Mom. My favorite times where when our mom would take us for walks to search for edible wild plants to garnish our salads with. Pigweed, I think that is what she called it, was my favorite. It had leaves sort of like spinach that where dusted with a sparkly purple. I still find it from time to time but not often in places I am willing to eat from.
My dad got his first deer in Worsley, in a field across from our acreage. He came running home, burst through the door and franticly asked my mother where I was. She told him I was outside playing and asked where else I would be, slightly worried by my dad’s frantic tone and confused by the giant grin on his face. “I got a Deer!” he responded and ran out to find me.
If my mom had had time to think about the situation I probably would have missed my first biology lesson. I remember standing on the edge of the field and my dad explaining the circle of life to me. I know realize he was testing the water and preparing me in case I decided he had killed Bambi. Bambi was the last thing on my mind. The whole “dad hunting” thing had a lot of hype built around it by then and I was so stoked that my dad got a deer!
We walk up to the deer and I crouched down beside him as he began to explain his steps. He pointed out all the different part or the deer’s body and how they worked as he field dressed the animal. I honestly think that day is responsible for both my short stint of vegetarianism as a teenager and my now treasured hunting hobby.
We moved from Worsley shortly afterward. I was six-years-old and partly through grade one. My parents continued to garden and my dad continued to hunt in the next town we moved to and then when they finally settled in Peace River. There we no more chickens or pheasants or walks to collect sparkly-purple edibles but their gardens evolved in to what is now a park like setting complete with a creek, fish pond and wee little bridge.
My family, and myself as an individual, have slowly come back to a higher level of sustainable living. Not to the extent as we had in Worsley but somewhere in-between. I shop at the farmers markets here in Edmonton for as much of our groceries as possible. My dad and I still hunt for some of the family’s meat. My parents grow a fantastic amount of vegetables in their garden. And we are learning everything we can about how to grow and live more sustainable and efficiently. We do these things not only because they help to reduce our carbon footprint but because they help to create and maintain connections and relationships that make us the family that we are. You could say that working together to provide some of our needs gives us Common Ground.
Dad’s Patio Tomatoes and Zucchinis
My dad makes this dish on the side burner of his barbeque a few times every summer. With stuff from the garden, of course. To me, it is the taste of summer.
Ingredients:
2 tbs olive oil
1 medium Red onion diced (White will do)
1 large or two small zucchini
2 small to medium tomatoes chopped in bite sized pieces (Roma are best)
½ cup of fresh chives
Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
Heat olive oil in a frying pan at a medium heat. Add and sauté the onions until they are translucent. It is important not to brown them, just soften them. Add the zucchini then the chives and tomatoes about 3 minutes later. Toss together and simmer until the zucchini is your desired tenderness and the tomatoes have made a sort of sauce. Usually about 3-5 minute. Serve as a side dish with your favorite patio main course.
I’ve added shrimp, a squeeze of lemon and basil to make a pasta dish that is quite a bit different but still very good.
I am currently planning a patio garden for the condo Nik and I are moving into. I look forward to applying some of the permaculture methods and indoor garden methods I have been reading about. I’ve included some of the links to these methods below and encourage anyone reading this to look into growing a little of your own food. Also, if you haven’t already, check out your local farmers markets and other local and sustainably focused businesses and organizations in your area.
Links:
http://www.windowfarms.org/
http://www.treehugger.com/kitchen-design/saving-food-fridge-it-will-taste-better-may-even-last-longer-and-reduce-your-energy-bills.html
http://myphytopod.com/
http://www.edmontonpermaculture.ca/
http://www.permaculture.org/nm/index.php/site/index/
Growing up, I enjoyed the benefits of a family who found the value in living sustainably. Truthfully, my parents were starving-students with three younglings and it was much cheaper to live this way. My mom and dad have always kept a garden, even if it was just a 3x5 plot in front of their student housing townhouse. My dad has hunted for much of our meat and caught a great deal of our fish. They freeze veggies and there was time when my mom was canning various things and even making yogurt from scratch. At a time when she was also making vanilla pudding from scratch it was always a little risky, as a five-year-old, to grab a spoonful of whatever creamy substance was in a bowl as it wasn’t always sweet and yummy, yet.
At the peak of their sustainable living efforts we were living in Worsley Alberta. My mom was grinding wheat for four, my dad was hunting deer and other game and they were both gardening and raising chickens and pheasants. Our family was in one of our poorest financial states then but we were defiantly eating well. I remember that food tasting the best, and those years being when we ate together as a family the most. We were involved, together, as a family building and creating a life rather than just moving through it.
Although us three younglings where barely three apples tall, we had our roles. My brother at two-years-old was the designated egg dropper and the designated dog fetcher to clean up dropped eggs. He would grab an egg from the basket one of us had set down, step away and drop the egg then holler, “Puppy! Egg!” Then our dopey cocker-spaniel, Andrew, would gallop up with his ears flopping everywhere to devour the egg mess. I think he got as much on his ears as he did in his mouth.
My sister, then four-years-old, and I would fetch eggs and feed the chickens. Sometimes we would help tend the garden with close supervision from Mom. My favorite times where when our mom would take us for walks to search for edible wild plants to garnish our salads with. Pigweed, I think that is what she called it, was my favorite. It had leaves sort of like spinach that where dusted with a sparkly purple. I still find it from time to time but not often in places I am willing to eat from.
My dad got his first deer in Worsley, in a field across from our acreage. He came running home, burst through the door and franticly asked my mother where I was. She told him I was outside playing and asked where else I would be, slightly worried by my dad’s frantic tone and confused by the giant grin on his face. “I got a Deer!” he responded and ran out to find me.
If my mom had had time to think about the situation I probably would have missed my first biology lesson. I remember standing on the edge of the field and my dad explaining the circle of life to me. I know realize he was testing the water and preparing me in case I decided he had killed Bambi. Bambi was the last thing on my mind. The whole “dad hunting” thing had a lot of hype built around it by then and I was so stoked that my dad got a deer!
We walk up to the deer and I crouched down beside him as he began to explain his steps. He pointed out all the different part or the deer’s body and how they worked as he field dressed the animal. I honestly think that day is responsible for both my short stint of vegetarianism as a teenager and my now treasured hunting hobby.
We moved from Worsley shortly afterward. I was six-years-old and partly through grade one. My parents continued to garden and my dad continued to hunt in the next town we moved to and then when they finally settled in Peace River. There we no more chickens or pheasants or walks to collect sparkly-purple edibles but their gardens evolved in to what is now a park like setting complete with a creek, fish pond and wee little bridge.
My family, and myself as an individual, have slowly come back to a higher level of sustainable living. Not to the extent as we had in Worsley but somewhere in-between. I shop at the farmers markets here in Edmonton for as much of our groceries as possible. My dad and I still hunt for some of the family’s meat. My parents grow a fantastic amount of vegetables in their garden. And we are learning everything we can about how to grow and live more sustainable and efficiently. We do these things not only because they help to reduce our carbon footprint but because they help to create and maintain connections and relationships that make us the family that we are. You could say that working together to provide some of our needs gives us Common Ground.
Dad’s Patio Tomatoes and Zucchinis
My dad makes this dish on the side burner of his barbeque a few times every summer. With stuff from the garden, of course. To me, it is the taste of summer.
Ingredients:
2 tbs olive oil
1 medium Red onion diced (White will do)
1 large or two small zucchini
2 small to medium tomatoes chopped in bite sized pieces (Roma are best)
½ cup of fresh chives
Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
Heat olive oil in a frying pan at a medium heat. Add and sauté the onions until they are translucent. It is important not to brown them, just soften them. Add the zucchini then the chives and tomatoes about 3 minutes later. Toss together and simmer until the zucchini is your desired tenderness and the tomatoes have made a sort of sauce. Usually about 3-5 minute. Serve as a side dish with your favorite patio main course.
I’ve added shrimp, a squeeze of lemon and basil to make a pasta dish that is quite a bit different but still very good.
I am currently planning a patio garden for the condo Nik and I are moving into. I look forward to applying some of the permaculture methods and indoor garden methods I have been reading about. I’ve included some of the links to these methods below and encourage anyone reading this to look into growing a little of your own food. Also, if you haven’t already, check out your local farmers markets and other local and sustainably focused businesses and organizations in your area.
Links:
http://www.windowfarms.org/
http://www.treehugger.com/kitchen-design/saving-food-fridge-it-will-taste-better-may-even-last-longer-and-reduce-your-energy-bills.html
http://myphytopod.com/
http://www.edmontonpermaculture.ca/
http://www.permaculture.org/nm/index.php/site/index/
Friday, March 2, 2012
New Beginnings
I’m a mover and a shaker. This is not exactly a virtue all of the time. I like trying new things, going new places and having new beginnings. I love new beginnings. This may be attributed to how I was brought up. We moved constantly.
Seriously, I went to four different schools between kindergarten and grade five. I was born in Westlock, then we lived in Athabasca, then Lac La Biche, then Red Deer (we had one move there), then Edmonton, then Worsley (where we moved twice and I took kindergarten and started grade one), then Olds (three different houses and grades one to the start of three), then to Peace River. Oh Peace River… with my parents I lived in three different homes. When I moved out I had five homes with roommates and one just my boyfriend, at the time, and I.
My itchy feet followed me to Edmonton. In the twelve years I have lived in here, with a short two-home move in Drumheller around year seven, I have had nine homes. I would have to sit down with both of my parents and a note pad to properly calculate the number of moves we have made together and then add the moves I have made on my own to get a proper total. I am so tired of moving; however, I do very much enjoy the new beginning that comes with each new home. The packing and unpacking is fun at first. I always manage to get rid of a few things and reorganize everything as I unpack.
You would think I had become a pro at throwing away stuff I don’t use or need anymore and that I am now one amazing packer. This is not so. I became very good at packing stuff hastily and storing it in Rubbermaid bins. Horrid, I know. During my time at the Bonnie Doon place I have managed, with the help of my roommate Danica, to part with a fair about of junk that has been living in the bins while being moved and restored. At first it was difficult, now it has become liberating. Each time I give a book, a kitchen tool or an item of clothing away or take a full box to Goodwill I feel a little lighter. I guess I have been holding on to a lot of things thinking that one-day, when I finally settle down I will prepared. Really all of that stuff has been weighing me down, making that final new beginning harder to reach.
Nik, my partner, and I have just leased a new condo in Spruce Grove. We are currently living in a basement suit in a house in Bonnie Doon that was built in the late sixties. It is charming little place, but it is old and hasn’t been treated so well by the many renters that have lived there over the years. There are some pros, such as the beautiful earth-tone dyed and poured concrete floor in the kitchen and living area, the wonderful neighbourhood full of great friends, the big back yard, the bus that stops right out front and takes me straight to work and the new upstairs tenants who are friends of Danica. The cons have outweighed those charms, excluding the friend who I will miss having so close. For the most part we are moving because it is easier on both of us for Nik to be closer to the shop he sub-contracts out of. There are other reasons though, the old tenants smoked and had a big smelly dog. I can’t get over the smell that still lingers. It’s a basement, albeit there are large windows, it is just not sunny enough. The kitchen is small and old. Most of all, we need a fresh start that is just ours and ours together.
The kitchen is big deal for us. Our relationship was built around food and feeding each other. We have learnt so much about each other and ourselves by puttering together chopping, washing, cooking, baking and creating in the kitchen. I realized I was falling in love with Nik while he moving between the stove and the sink. He was creating something fantastic that likely contained his favorite seasoning, Vegeta. We decided where and how we want to build our future together in the kitchen while cooking and chatting. It became clear that we needed a bigger kitchen to hold us over for a while, as it is where we create most of our quality time. The condo has a large corner kitchen with tones of storage and counter space. I am in heaven just sitting here typing.
This is intended to be our last move before we build our sustainable dream home somewhere in the country and settle there for good. I wonder how that will sit with me five years in. How will I quench my thirst for new beginnings? Will I be rearranging furniture every six months, uprooting and remodeling the indoor greenhouse? Maybe I will be one of those geeks suggesting my husband and I renew our vows every few years. Then I will insist we move all of our stuff into a C-can to then move back into our home as a new beginning, a fresh start. I hope I have the self-control to let the greenhouse be, at least. Any which way, I am certain Nik and I will be able to find all the new beginnings we desire for us and for our family. For now, I look forward to the future and pour a glass of wine to enjoy before crawling in next to Nik on the chilly air mattress for our first night together in our new home.
Keep It Simple Sweetheart Marinade
This Marinade goes great on any meat and is super easy to whip up. We use it mostly on venison a lot.
Ingredients:
2 tbs Olive oil
2 tsp Vegeta
1-2 crushed or finely chopped garlic cloves
Juice from half a lemon, (1-2 tbls)
Pepper to your liking (fresh ground is best)
If cooking venison, beef or pork give the meat a few hefty taps with a meat-mallet on both sides. Take care not to flatten it. Think of it as fluffing the meat.
Place all the ingredients a bowl large enough to stir two eight ounce steaks, or other meat, in. If you have a Tupperware marinade container use that. Lightly toss the meat in the bowl taking care that they get completely covered in the marinade. Leave the meat for at least 20 minutes before cooking them on a pre-heated barbeque, indoor grill or frying pan. Flip once half way through desired cooking time. For Chicken cook all the way through, for good quality beef, pork or duck cook to your liking.
Tips: Beef of Venison steaks cook best when placed on the grill at room temperature.
Add chopped basil to give a summery taste.
Put goat cheese or feta on top of the meat after flipping it.
Let meat stand for 5-10 minutes before cutting into it.
Seriously, I went to four different schools between kindergarten and grade five. I was born in Westlock, then we lived in Athabasca, then Lac La Biche, then Red Deer (we had one move there), then Edmonton, then Worsley (where we moved twice and I took kindergarten and started grade one), then Olds (three different houses and grades one to the start of three), then to Peace River. Oh Peace River… with my parents I lived in three different homes. When I moved out I had five homes with roommates and one just my boyfriend, at the time, and I.
My itchy feet followed me to Edmonton. In the twelve years I have lived in here, with a short two-home move in Drumheller around year seven, I have had nine homes. I would have to sit down with both of my parents and a note pad to properly calculate the number of moves we have made together and then add the moves I have made on my own to get a proper total. I am so tired of moving; however, I do very much enjoy the new beginning that comes with each new home. The packing and unpacking is fun at first. I always manage to get rid of a few things and reorganize everything as I unpack.
You would think I had become a pro at throwing away stuff I don’t use or need anymore and that I am now one amazing packer. This is not so. I became very good at packing stuff hastily and storing it in Rubbermaid bins. Horrid, I know. During my time at the Bonnie Doon place I have managed, with the help of my roommate Danica, to part with a fair about of junk that has been living in the bins while being moved and restored. At first it was difficult, now it has become liberating. Each time I give a book, a kitchen tool or an item of clothing away or take a full box to Goodwill I feel a little lighter. I guess I have been holding on to a lot of things thinking that one-day, when I finally settle down I will prepared. Really all of that stuff has been weighing me down, making that final new beginning harder to reach.
Nik, my partner, and I have just leased a new condo in Spruce Grove. We are currently living in a basement suit in a house in Bonnie Doon that was built in the late sixties. It is charming little place, but it is old and hasn’t been treated so well by the many renters that have lived there over the years. There are some pros, such as the beautiful earth-tone dyed and poured concrete floor in the kitchen and living area, the wonderful neighbourhood full of great friends, the big back yard, the bus that stops right out front and takes me straight to work and the new upstairs tenants who are friends of Danica. The cons have outweighed those charms, excluding the friend who I will miss having so close. For the most part we are moving because it is easier on both of us for Nik to be closer to the shop he sub-contracts out of. There are other reasons though, the old tenants smoked and had a big smelly dog. I can’t get over the smell that still lingers. It’s a basement, albeit there are large windows, it is just not sunny enough. The kitchen is small and old. Most of all, we need a fresh start that is just ours and ours together.
The kitchen is big deal for us. Our relationship was built around food and feeding each other. We have learnt so much about each other and ourselves by puttering together chopping, washing, cooking, baking and creating in the kitchen. I realized I was falling in love with Nik while he moving between the stove and the sink. He was creating something fantastic that likely contained his favorite seasoning, Vegeta. We decided where and how we want to build our future together in the kitchen while cooking and chatting. It became clear that we needed a bigger kitchen to hold us over for a while, as it is where we create most of our quality time. The condo has a large corner kitchen with tones of storage and counter space. I am in heaven just sitting here typing.
This is intended to be our last move before we build our sustainable dream home somewhere in the country and settle there for good. I wonder how that will sit with me five years in. How will I quench my thirst for new beginnings? Will I be rearranging furniture every six months, uprooting and remodeling the indoor greenhouse? Maybe I will be one of those geeks suggesting my husband and I renew our vows every few years. Then I will insist we move all of our stuff into a C-can to then move back into our home as a new beginning, a fresh start. I hope I have the self-control to let the greenhouse be, at least. Any which way, I am certain Nik and I will be able to find all the new beginnings we desire for us and for our family. For now, I look forward to the future and pour a glass of wine to enjoy before crawling in next to Nik on the chilly air mattress for our first night together in our new home.
Keep It Simple Sweetheart Marinade
This Marinade goes great on any meat and is super easy to whip up. We use it mostly on venison a lot.
Ingredients:
2 tbs Olive oil
2 tsp Vegeta
1-2 crushed or finely chopped garlic cloves
Juice from half a lemon, (1-2 tbls)
Pepper to your liking (fresh ground is best)
If cooking venison, beef or pork give the meat a few hefty taps with a meat-mallet on both sides. Take care not to flatten it. Think of it as fluffing the meat.
Place all the ingredients a bowl large enough to stir two eight ounce steaks, or other meat, in. If you have a Tupperware marinade container use that. Lightly toss the meat in the bowl taking care that they get completely covered in the marinade. Leave the meat for at least 20 minutes before cooking them on a pre-heated barbeque, indoor grill or frying pan. Flip once half way through desired cooking time. For Chicken cook all the way through, for good quality beef, pork or duck cook to your liking.
Tips: Beef of Venison steaks cook best when placed on the grill at room temperature.
Add chopped basil to give a summery taste.
Put goat cheese or feta on top of the meat after flipping it.
Let meat stand for 5-10 minutes before cutting into it.
Last Night's Non-Post
Sorry guys, the new place has a sketchy internet connection. Nicole just pointed out that the post I ask her to read is not here.
Posting now.
Thanks'
Jenn
Posting now.
Thanks'
Jenn
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