abundance Archives - Cheryl Brunette

2009-10-042017-05-19

Beauty is Food, Food Beauty (with apologies to Keats)

There is a story told about Albert Einstein. He was asked by a reporter something to the effect of, “What do you think is the most important question facing us today? “His answer was close to this: ‘The most important question a person can ask is, ‘Is the Universe a friendly place?'”

My answer is yes, this is a benevolent universe . . . and here’s a piece of evidence to support that choice:

Romanesco. It’s a broccoli/cauliflower of sorts. I think I’ll roast it . . . probably over 3 or 4 days as it’s quite large. But for now . . . I’m just going to admire it.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.’

Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

from Ode on a Grecian Urn John Keats

2009-10-032017-05-19

The 21st century North American hunter-gatherer . . .

“Hunter-gatherers hunt game and collect plant foods (called foraging) rather than grow or tend crops. Hunter-gatherers is the term used by anthropologists to describe a specific kind of lifestyle, that of all human beings until the invention of agriculture about 8000 years ago.” (About.com)

Unless you “grow or tend crops” that provide almost all of your own food, you are a hunter-gatherer. The important questions for you are . . .

where do you hunt and gather your food and . . .
what do you find?

I’ve lived in the same place for almost 30 years but prior to settling here I bounced around like a ping-pong ball. And one of the first things I did at each of the dozen+ places I lived as a young adult was to find my local food sources. I’ve been a hunter-gatherer most of my life and I suspect you are too.

So what are your food sources? McDonald’s? Safeway? Kroger? The Saturday morning Farmers’ Market? Costco? Your neighbor’s garden? Your mom’s cupboards? The dormitory cafeteria? The cafeteria at your work? Whole Foods? Family Market? Elevated Ice Cream? Ralph’s Pretty Good Grocery? Don’s Pharmacy (which has a lunch counter)? Starbucks? Pedro’s Fiesta Jalisco Restaurant? The convenience market at the local gas station?

I decided to look back at my food sources for the past couple of weeks. The variety and abundance of my sources are stunning.

Let’s see . . .

I visited 2 friends in 2 days and each gave me food. Get a load of these beautiful gifts:

The eggs and tomatoes are teeny-tiny and were given to me by a dear woman who is, herself, teeny-tiny.

The Asian pears (two varieties) and corn (two varieties) were from a married pair of friends. He grew the corn, she tends the orchard. The pears were juicy and sweet and the corn . . .

The red one was so beautiful (look at the red in the corn silk) that I shucked it . . .

sat down in the sunshine next to my porch angel . . .

and ate it raw. It was sweet and delicate and tender.

I roasted the other ear with some zucchini and the rest of the purple cauliflower

and. . . FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ALL MY VEGGIE ROASTING EXPERIMENTS I FOUND ONE THAT DIDN’T ROAST WELL. Roasting the corn after it was shucked made it tough and not so good. I have eaten this same variety roasted on the barbecue in the husks after it had been soaked in water and it was delicious.

You can try it and see what you think, but I’m going back to my Midwest family way of preparing it. Grandma put the water on to boil before Grandpa went out to pick the corn. By the time they shucked it the water (which had a pinch of sugar, not salt) was boiling. Drop the corn in. Bring the water back to a boil. Let it boil for only 3 or 4 or 5 minutes and you’re done. Take the corn out of the hot water and put it on a platter. Roll it in butter. Salt and pepper it and . . . enjoy a taste of Heaven.

But back to the point . . . looking at food sources.

I have two neighbors on the island who grow fruits and vegetables and sell them from stands. Neither is certified as an “organic” farm, but both use organic, non-chemical practices to grow their food. That, and a lot of love.

One is self-serve (put your money in the cigar box) and at the other, which is right next to their house, you get a mini-visit and some conversation. This is my haul from both a couple of days ago:Three kinds of tomatoes or more (I’m very fond of tomatoes), mild peppers (like poblanos but I forget their names), a couple of zucchinis and a couple of small and wonderful “winter” squashes and a large bunch of parsley (I’m embarrassed to say I don’t have parsley growing at home . . . I mean I have over 3 acres . . . but that’s another story and I’m grateful I can buy very fresh and very local.)

OK . . . those are my quaint and colorful sources . . . but within the past couple of weeks I’ve also gotten food from the Port Hadlock QFC , the Nordland General Store (I go here almost every day because this is also the home of my post office where I receive my mail and daily connection to my community), the Food Co-op, Costco, Sunny Farms , World Peace Produce and at least one restaurant.

This is a lot of resources. Part of it is that I’m over-buying food right now. It’s high harvest time and I come from a family that “put up” most of their own food to last through the winter. I’m freezing and storing and years ago I was making sauerkraut with my ma and grandma and aunts at this time of year.

The other part of over-buying is that I’m feeling anxious. I”m researching and writing about food and even giving advice which I generally do not like to do, and I feel myself drifting toward a vegan diet. Yet I’m still teaching people how to make chicken soup. In fact . . . I bought two chickens on a deep sale yesterday ($.69 per pound versus the regular $1.79 per pound), put one in the freezer and will make a BIG pot of chicken soup with the other and will post about it.

This conflict will resolve itself, I’m sure. Meanwhile, I’m not sleeping as well as I usually do. Change is never comfortable. Not ever. And yet, if we don’t change and grow we are, essentially, dead. And sometimes change feels more dramatic than at other times. I’m in one of those “big shift” phases.

But about you . . . where do you get your food? Do you even think about it? (I didn’t until I wrote this post.) What about the quality of that food? How much do you prepare? How much is prepared for you? How much is real food? (Let me reiterate . . . real food does not come in a box and chemicals are not a food group.)

For the next week (or even two or three) please pay attention to your food sources. Then tell me about them in your comments. I am curious about how you experience your hunting and gathering. This is such a fundamental part of being a human and yet we usually do it on automatic pilot . . . at least I did until I started getting serious about this project to help young people feed themselves inexpensively, simply and nutritiously when they go out on their own.

Thank you for being willing to help me understand the complex relationship we have to food in this time and place.

2009-09-212017-05-19

Onion salad??? Yep and it’s delish!!

I’d better hurry up and post this before the Walla Walla Sweet Onion season is done. These are the large sweet, white onions grown in Washington State that have been available for the past couple of months. I’ve made this salad for 4 potlucks in the last month and it has been a smash hit at every one, partly because it’s so unusual. Any sweet onion will do and this dish is drop-dead simple to make.

For a large bowl, potluck size, you start with a couple of onions. Notice the larger one is really big. If you’re making this for yourself, start with a single, smaller onion.

Peel and chop the onion. If you do a large or medium dice (these photos are mediumish) it’s a salad. If you chop everything finely it’s still a salad, but because it has a relish-like consistency you can serve it with crackers as an hors d’oeuvre. Great for a “finger food” event.

(You will note that I was not Mrs. Blair’s star pupil in 8th grade Home Economics in the “uniformly diced vegetables” department.)

Put the onions in a largish bowl.

This is the first time I’ll mention bowl size but it won’t be the last. Always mix or prepare your food in a BIG bowl, much larger than the volume of the food you’re preparing. You do this because you need room to toss and mix the ingredients without them flying all over the counter and floor. This bowl is just under half-full.

Then you add crumbled feta cheese.

I have to say that buying the one on the left killed me because it cost $9.85 per pound (and it was the cheapest feta at my local large grocery) versus the $3.39 per pound for the one on the right from Costco. Almost 3 TIMES AS MUCH, but the first of these potlucks was a very special occasion and I needed it right then and the nearest Costco is 45 minutes away if I go a little, a tad, maybe 10% or 15% over the speed limit in the non-speed trap stretches.

Crumble the feta with a fork and add to the onions.

You can see that I fork-nibbled the corner of that 2+ pound block. By the time I was done I used about 8 ounces or half a pound for the amount of onions I had (those two you saw above). I determine how much feta to add by tossing it evenly and looking at it. It should look roughly like this in terms of proportions.

Then it’s time to make the dressing . . . once again, a vinaigrette. We start with a good extra virgin olive oil, or two in this case. I finished up the one on the left and opened the one on the right. The Spanish one on the left is lighter partly because I store it in the refrigerator once it’s open to keep it fresh, partly because it’s a lighter green oil.

And here’s one of the few times I use white vinegar for food. The onions are white, the cheese is white and I want the salad to stay that way so I add white vinegar.

I often use a measuring cup to mix my vinaigrettes but I don’t use it to measure. Instead, I use it to eyeball the proportions. This is about 3 parts oil to one part vinegar.

Add some dried basil and dried oregano which you’ve rolled in the palm of your hand to break it smaller and release fresh flavor.

Those of you with acute perception will notice an oddity about the last two pictures and I’m not telling you what it is. Comment when you figure it out.

You don’t need to add salt. The salt of the feta is the perfect complement to the sweet, yet a-little-bit-bitey onion.

Toss the dressing with the onions and feta.

Let it rest for at least 4 to 8 hours. Overnight is too much. This salad wants to be made in the morning and served that evening. Somehow, that’s the perfect amount of time for the vinegar to work its magic on the onion.

When you serve it, put it into a pretty bowl.

This particular tray went with me to a Blessings which always starts with a 5:30 potluck. Our spiritual work starts at 7:00 and goes until it’s time to stop, usually by 9:00. The cantaloup is a tiny, sweet variety grown by one of the island farmers. The plums are dead ripe, juicy and sweet. They would never make it to a grocery store because their ripeness cycle is short and perishable. I had picked them from a friend’s tree the day before.

My wish for you is that you are blessed with an abundance of good food and that you gather with your friends and family and neighbors to share it.

2009-09-162017-05-19

Grandma’s chicken and dumplings

I’m posting this to fill a request from someone who read The Power of Food #2 post. . . and because Grandma would be tickled by the thought of me passing it on to the world . . .

Chicken and Dumplings . . . Fegyvernek Style

For the “stew” part:
one chicken, cut up into pieces
a medium onion, yellow or other sharp variety, chopped
a little bacon fat or lard (I use an olive oil/butter mix nowadays)
parsley, fresh or dried (a couple of tablespoons if dried, twice that if fresh)
paprika (sweet, not hot, Hungarian paprika)
salt and pepper
water

For the dumplings (a large batch. You can halve this recipe.)
4 eggs
about 1½ cups of water
½ teaspoon salt
3 to 3½ cups flour

Lightly brown the onion in the fat you’ve chosen in a large pot. Then add the paprika and stir for a minute or so. Add the parsley, chicken pieces, salt and pepper and enough water to barely cover the chicken. Cover and simmer until done, about ½ to 1 hour depending on the size of your chicken pieces. Remove the chicken from the pot and put it in a bowl. Cover to keep it warm.

Add more water to the pot (an inch or so, maybe two or three if you make the whole recipe for dumplings), put the cover on and bring it to a boil as you prepare the dumplings.

Beat the eggs and salt with a fork in a plastic bowl. (You can use any bowl but it’s good if it’s lightweight because you’re going to hold it over the boiling broth as you drop the dumplings into the pot.) Add about 1½ cups water to the eggs mixture and beat again. Add the flour and beat until it has a “sticky” consistency. This is wetter than regular bread dough.

Uncover your pot of boiling broth and hold the bowl of dumpling dough just over it. Tilt it toward the pot. Dip a teaspoon into the hot broth, then go up to the bowl and scoop about ½ teaspoon full of dough and drop it into the broth. Repeat, dipping the spoon into the broth and scooping a little dough into it until all the dough is gone. Move the bowl around so that you drop the dumplings more or less evenly over the whole pot. DO NOT STIR THE DUMPLINGS YET!

Cover the pot and let it boil about 7 to 10 minutes. NOW YOU CAN STIR THE DUMPLINGS. Cook them for another 5 to 10 minutes, add the chicken back into the pot and reheat it for a few minutes. You’re ready to serve. (I like to sprinkle on a little fresh parsley at the end, but Grandma didn’t do that.)

Family food feud

When my dad was alive (he died in 1959) we didn’t eat these at my house. He called this style of dumplings “bullets” and wasn’t having any of them. As a French-Canadian, he knew dumplings as fluffy clouds that floated over beef stew. But I ate them every time I stayed at Grandma and Grandpa’s and that was often. My mother deferred to Dad’s tastes and always made him his fluffy, with-baking-powder, favorites, and always over beef, not chicken, stew.

I’m not sure why but I never asked Ma how to make fluffy dumplings. But I learned, as a very young girl, how to make bullets because I loved them. In that wonderful alchemy of genetic stew that makes a baby, I ended up with straight blonde hair and blue eyes. My dad had wavy brunette hair and hazel eyes. I adored him . . . but I’ve always loved the bullet dumplings best . . . and I never halve the recipe.