Today was one of those days.
It began with my rising early, making my way to the sun-splashed recliner in the piano room where I picked up my copy of Laurel's Kitchen and began reading. The call to simplicity inspired me, and I recognized immediately the familiarity of making do. Often, when I have very little money and a half-pantry of food, our most delightful, memorable meals spring forth. Such is my current position. With Bard leaving for China this Monday and so much of our finances wrapped up in her travel, music lessons for the kids and dental bills for my dad, the budget is as tight as a drum. What a perfect time to delve back into the art of bread-baking, soup making and old-fashioned family time.
I made two loaves of whole wheat bread yesterday, following the directions to a T, and they turned out wonderfully, though the rise wasn't as high as I wanted it to be since I'd like to use the loaves for sandwiches. Still, it went very well with all of the other meals we've had since.
After my quiet time with Laurel's Kitchen, I awoke my husband Bo and we gathered up the family for a walk on the new rail-trail near our house. On our way to the trail, we noticed that the community Art Walk was in process, so after our short walk, we headed back to the center of town where we talked to local artists, including the fabulously kind Mr. Del Guidice, the art instructor for The Sprouted Acorn, and his sweet daughter. Whether it's the busy summer months or the cost of the classes, our portrait course for next week simply doesn't have enough students. If we don't gather five more students before Tuesday, we'll reschedule the class for the Fall and see how it fairs then.
I also talked to two local potters, one I'd wanted to talk to anyway in order to discuss a possible article for Ohio Magazine. He was open to an interview, so I'll go out to his studio next week, if it flies with the editor, to do the interview.
The other potter showed interest in teaching a workshop for The Sprouted Acorn in her studio. I was so engrossed in conversation with her that I almost forgot about my Breema class, remembering in time to realize I was five minutes late. We hurried to the home of my Breema instructor where Bo and the kids dropped me off.
Breema is a new thing for me. I had wanted to learn Yoga but never seem to have the time or the motivation to get to the classes. Recently a friend of mine, Dave, who is a massotherapist contacted me about taking a self-Breema class and, since my back was aching and I knew I needed to do something about it, I signed up. For both of the classes, it was just the instructor and I, so it was a very relaxing, informative time. It's a good practice for me to learn to Be Here Now, and I'm always amazed at the brashness of the world after I leave a class with Dave.
After the Breema class, we stopped by the store for some groceries, and I came home and made a cheese spread from Laurel's Kitchen while the kids munched on watermelon:
Jack and Dill Spread
Makes 1 cup
1/2 cup grated jack cheese
1/2 cup low-fat cottage cheese
1 tsp. dill weed
1 Tbs. chopped toasted almonds
1 Tbs. minced chives or scallion tops
1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard: optional
Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Chill at least 30 minutes before using.
—The New Laurel’s Kitchen, by Laurel Robertson, Carol Flinders, and Brian Ruppenthal
We spread this on wheat bread and topped it with greens and cucumbers then served it with a salad and homemade buttermilk dressing. It was delicious, filling and refreshing.
After a nap, I went back to the kitchen to start the soup, also a Laurel's Kitchen recipe:
GOLDEN NOODLE SOUP
2 Quarts Golden Broth (see below)
Big handful whole wheat ribbon noodles (or matzoh balls)
1 cup diced celery
1 cup diced potatoes
1 cup diced carrots
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup finely chopped parsely
Bring broth to a boil in a heavy pan. Add noodles, celery, potatoes,
carrots and salt. Reduce heat and simmer gently until the vegetables
are tender, about half an hour. Stir in parsley, adjust seasoning and
serve.
Makes about 10 cups of soup.
GOLDEN BROTH
1 Onion chopped
1 clove garlic
1/2 cup yellow split peas.
1/2 tsp turmeric
2 Quarts hot water
Put all ingredients in a large pot and simmer at least half an hour.
Strain for a thin stock or puree for a thick one.
While I chopped veggies and made the stock, we listened to A Prairie Home Companion broadcast live from about an hour and a half from here. It was wonderful to hear Garrision talk about things near and dear to us, and the music was fantastic. I found myself singing harmonies to Cecilia, performed by Tonic Sol Fa. I had fun, but I'm glad they couldn't hear me.
After the soup stock and the show were both finished, I threw in the noodles, carrots, potatoes and celery and asked Bo if he'd like to take a walk with me. With The Baby on his shoulders, we checked out our bluebird boxes, The Baby peering over Bo's head to see the wren's eggs that occupied the first box. No bluebirds, but the wrens are protected migratory birds, so they stay. In our prairie grass section of the property, we found a daisy which The Baby delighted in calling, "The Dancing" as she dangled it in front of Bo's face. We examined the plum and mulberry trees, counted blackberry patches and peeked inside another bluebird house, this one containing no eggs but filled with a grassy cup that just might be a bluebird.
Behind our property is an Amish cemetery from which the view is amazing. We reverently stepped inside the gate and The Baby, still perched on Bo's shoulders, pointed out "the books" in the ground, referring to the grave markers. Here are buried people we never knew, neighbors who lived and died here before we arrived, some even before we ever arrived on this earth. A fresh grave without a marker stirred my emotions, as did the marker of a neighbor's son who was struck by lightning at the age of nineteen, standing near a fence on a clear day while talking to a relative, the storm seemingly miles away sending one stray bolt that would bring this young life to an end. A cardinal sang from a high electrical wire next to the post that was struck by lightning just yesterday, knocking out our power and forcing simplicity for an afternoon. The power is back on today.
Back to the house we walked, the smell of Golden Soup increasing the closer we walked to our farmhouse on the hill.
Gathered around a table, our bowls filled with rich, hearty noodle soup, my husband and children filling me with accolades, I was more wealthy than I've felt in a very long time. With this feeling, I understood:
Proverbs 15:17Many times, pseudo-abundance makes us greedy, and greediness makes us unhappy and hateful. That hatefulness poisons those around us. When I've gathered together tumeric, dill, bay leaves and a bit of vegetables, when I throw those things together in a pot of hot water and go exploring nature with my loved ones, I feel connected to them, to the world around me, to God, to myself.
Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a fatted ox and hatred with it.
And now, as I hear my children playing Taps on the piano, I know that it's time to close this post. Day is done.
The day was sublime, and, rest assured, my words don't do it justice. But they will help to spark a memory for me that will remain vivid in my mind for many years and many meals to come.
