Oh, for…

Perth 17 HDR

Gratuitous cathedral picture, just because.

Would it BE a trip to the UK, if the boiler didn’t go out????

What is this effect we have on boilers, that even the flat we rented for a holiday — which was working JUST FINE when we came, though it, like the whole building, is ancient — immediately dies? WHY must it quit working just when we’ve had a spate of cloudless – and immediately much more cold – weather?? And to think they just had the boiler guy out the day before we arrived…!

We remain thankful for the invention of space heaters and electric showers.

From pretty much our first day in, we’ve had a steady stream of guests and invitations. We feel like we’ve walked all over the entire West End and parts East as well, but it’s been good. Plans next week include brunches with university friends, some more crafty activities including making lanterns in advance of the Feast of St. Martin (celebrated by our German friends), coffee dates and dinner with the Superb Second Sopranos, and a chance to hear about their Poland tour. And then, lovely Iceland calls!

Thanks to all who have asked; the storm that hit Southern England was nowhere near us in the North, and we felt no more cold and wind than usual. We’re fine and dry, with our space heaters…

Happy Weekend, happy November!

A Book Birthday: Happy in Your Head

“Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.”
– The Desiderata

Nope, this isn’t one of T’s book birthdays, but you’ll indulge her excitement as she fêtes a friend-she’s-never-met. She writes lots of book reviews for other blogs, and we normally keep them separate. However, she knows some of you will really love this book, so… enjoy.


Two weeks ago, T. opened an email and read the following line: “If you are, at first, lonely be patient. If you’ve not been alone much or if, when you were, you weren’t okay with it then just wait…you’ll find it’s fine to be alone once you’re embracing it.” She beamed to herself because, she could hear the poet reading the line. Yes. T. is one of Those People responsible for making Tanya Davis’s spoken-word song poem thingy, “How to Be Alone” have five million hits on YouTube. Visually jazzed up by artist Andrea Dorfman, this is a little video many have come back to over and over, the past couple of years. And now it’s a book, out October 22nd.

How to be Alone 2

T first started kvelling about this particular piece of poetry in 2011, around about the time it was one of those short-lived viral video things. It was everywhere, because it was a poem that had come out recently in a Canadian chapbook called AT FIRST, LONELY, and the author, Halifax poet-spoken word artist, Tanya Davis, set it to music and video by the poet with a filmmaker friend, Andrea Dorfman (who also was part of the team working on the book). Only some of what we pass around the ‘net has any staying power, however, and this poem has had that for me. Readers have come back to it again and again. It is the eclectic imagery of the video, yes, the poet’s careful voice, yes, but it is also the words. The words – so lucid, so simple, so heart-full and honest – that speaks to the universal we. Readers wanted to take in that heady balance of perspicacity and intellect over and over again, until it became an intrinsic part of themselves.

And, now we can.

How to be Alone 1

T thought she’d give away her copy of the book as a gift to a friend, but this isn’t that kind of book. It’s the kind of book you get for yourself – but you get two copies. Then, when someone picks up your copy and wants to take it away – which will happen, this is guaranteed – you can be calm enough to say, “Oh, sure, yeah, go ahead.” And you let it go – not like a book that’s going to be borrowed and returned, but like a book that you’ll never seen again, because you won’t. It’s not that type of book.

What it is: a short and concise bedside table book for introverts, one that you can pick up and reread and realize that you’re okay, that, living in your head is okay, and that if you’re happy there, or uncomfortable because you’re not sure it’s what you’re supposed to be doing, and it maybe doesn’t look like what everybody else is doing… it reassures you that Different isn’t fatal.

It’s a coffee table lifeline for extroverts, who might find themselves in the unenviable position of being in a place cut off from their old connections, and find themselves adrift and panicky, unable to pull in the old charm that used to work so well. It’s an under-the-pillow midnight read for the puffy-eyed, heart-cracked and bleeding newly abandoned and broken; it’s a sanity saver for the newly together and commingled – it speaks to all of us who need to find and claim space in our heads – whether it’s because we’re in a life jam-packed with people, or in a world where we seem to rattle along by ourselves – and within are clear instructions as to how.

Those who loved the video may have wondered if the its quirky brilliance would translate smoothly again to the printed page. It helps that the filmmaker is also the illustrator of the novel. Reminiscent of Maira Kalman’s work in the New Yorker and elsewhere, the hand-scripted poetic words convey an intimacy, as if this is a journal you’ve written yourself, filled with brilliance you’re ready to share. The illustrations show the journey of a single sock, a single knitter, a single tree-climber, all surviving their original-and-only-one status in a paired off and lined up world, all thriving on their differences. Especially in this world of political, financial and employment stresses we experience, where lockstep conformity is expected and desired by so many, we need to step back and reconnect with both solitude and sanity, and reaffirm our commitment to originality – even if that means going it alone. This book is an antidote for out-of-focus living. Stick a copy in your car, read it in the waiting room at the doctor’s office, or in line at Starbuck’s, and regain your mental health.


Happy Book Birthday, Tanya & Andrea! This book is out today, October 22, 2013. I received my early copy courtesy of the publicist, and Harper Collins, for which I’m grateful! You can find your copy of HOW TO BE ALONE by Tanya Davis and Andrea Dorfman online, or at an independent bookstore near you!

Everything Goes Better With… A Baker’s Report

Fudge Cake 1.0

We’re well past a report on the baking experiments, but the goods have been, to say the least, odd. Still, the odds are good that eventually, we’ll get this whole thing right!

The mise en place chefs continue to rise to the top, because they always know what ingredients they have before they start cooking. If you, like T., finds the filling of little bowls with measured and prepped ingredients fiddly, well… too bad. She started these fudge brownies with what she had on hand – insufficient cocoa powder and no eggs. Oh, the fun things you discover as you go along without the little prep bowls! No problem; she’s good with flip-flopping between vegan and not, and we have lots of solid baker’s chocolate. Unfortunately, almond flour is a pickier substance, and isn’t as easy with her choices.

We’ve talked before about how to make a flax “egg” – but you absolutely must account for that three tablespoons of water that you’ve used. It’s VERY EASY for almond flour pastries to become too moist. It’s one of the perks of baking with almond flour – lovely, moist cakes that don’t dry out, but oh, be careful, little bakers. Vegan-izing can so easily lead to disaster.

T. used the “basic” quickbread ratio for almond flour – two cups of almond flour to a half cup of cocoa powder (augmented with grated chocolate), a third cup of vital wheat gluten, 2/3 c. of a combination of Truvia and erythritol, a teaspoon of vanilla, and about a half cup of milk.

Aaand, there’s problem #2 – that pesky word “about.” It’s been really hard for both T. and D. to get through their heads that everything they think they know about baking no longer counts. We’re just not good enough yet to substitute without measuring. Right now, we’re conforming closely to recipes from The Low Carb Baking and Dessert Cookbook by Ursula Solom and Low Carbing Among Friends, by Carolyn Ketchum & Co…. and trying REALLY hard not to give in to the inevitable urge to just substitute… and failing. Repeatedly.

We have lovely in-the-process pictures from baking these fudge brownies. They came together well – baked up well – but I had some questions as soon as we took it out of its springform. The bottom seemed … too moist. We let it cool completely before doing anything with it, having learned out lesson last time about mucking around with almond flour pastries before they’re cool enough to move — but I thought, “hmmm,” as I saw how damp it was. Not a good “hmm,” either.

Fudge Cake 1.1

And yet, they were SO delicious, and so moist, and …so caved in on the top, and ugly, which is something we can lay at the door of overly-moist as well. They were super-ugly, which is a big minus, since we always like to bake to share, but amazingly chocolate-y, with a deep, rich flavor. Too moist, but yummy, like a fudge brownie pudding, maybe. We couldn’t figure out which way we wanted to go for frosting – plain? A cream cheese base? A chocolate frosting? We tried both plain and cream cheese – really, really tasty. We never got to the ganache we were going to make. Unfortunately, a cake so moist does not keep well – you have to refrigerate it, and we didn’t. YES: we ate a chocolate cake so slowly that it went bad. That’s got to be one for the books, but it really WAS good, and next time – well, we’ve got a lot of plans for next time…

Rodent Wars

Rodents 2, Humans, O

We won’t bore you with the morning we came downstairs and saw the dead rat lying on the dining room floor – having apparently perished of being chased inside after being poisoned elsewhere, and having the discourtesy to die in our house. We don’t count that as a win for either party. We won’t discuss the little holes in the garden bed, where the squirrels are, systematically and relentlessly, uprooting each and every bulb that they find. We will draw a veil over the early-Sunday-morning loud THUMP and chittering shrieks as they rush around playing tag on the newly finished upstairs deck.

Pleasant Hill 178

And, lest T. turn into our crazed Brown Street neighbor, whose weekly 4 a.m. screams of, “No! Bad skunk!” followed by waves of concentrated stench produced both gagging and giggles, we will also just bring in the faux walnut wrens from the little succulent garden. Screaming, “NO! Stupid squirrels!” has so far not had the intended effect.

♦♦♦

In the UK, the Gardener’s Almanac is kind of a thing, just as once upon a time, The Farmer’s Almanac was embraced by groundhog-loving Americans along the East Coast. If you listen to The Writer’s Almanac on NPR, it also comes with quiet music and notable events in history, narrated by the dispassionate-voiced Garrison Keillor. This week, T. discovered she could combine both of those peculiar almanac joys – gardening, history, and dispassionate male narrators – with The Hidden Almanac. Of course, it’s not entirely the same, what with The Reverend Mord detailing the lives of obscure saints, and occasionally giving the history of exploding butterflies, but what the heck: it’s an almanac, and it’s that time of year.

Speaking of that time of year, T. has disappeared under a stack of books, and will talk to you again in December. Be safe, and stay out of trouble…

For What We Are About To Receive…

HelloKidney

Sometimes what you think is The Worst turns out to be …livable.

Thanks for all the nice notes about T’s sister. We were afraid for The Bug – known as Bug, since D. convinced her, when she was about four, that pomegranate seeds were bugs, and she ate them anyway – We were afraid that doing the stupid every-other-day dialysis would make her senior year a drag, that her social life would wither and blow away, that she’d miss out on some ephemeral something found only by being in high school. We thought she would be resentful, sullen, cranky – things we certainly would be. We did not expect the return of flashes of zany exuberance, 8 a.m. phone calls about what ridiculous video she had found on YouTube (“No, WATCH IT!! It’s FUNNY!”) and an amiable acceptance of the hand she’s been played. She feels better, for sure, her gimpy internal organs bolstered by a big, scary looking machine. WE were the ones who were afraid. She’s… seventeen. Hardly young and sweet, but apparently impervious. Unsinkable.

And, really – the whole “senior year” thing is a societal construct, much like the idea that the teen years are the “best years” of one’s life. Who actually believes that? If so, won’t the rest of your life stretch before you like an unpalatable desert road that you simply must travel, until you fall over? What’s the point of that? Better to watch this person living, hoarding the little crumbs of joy into a whole loaf, as she goes on. We got her this “Hello Kidney” shirt to wear to dialysis – might have to get her a few more in various colors. Together with her plush kidney, she is the pinnacle of snarkiness, ready for anything.

Thank God.


Autumn is, and that pumpkin-nut-apple-cranberry thing is happening, and leaves, and sunsets, and America is about to lose its stuff on running around, throwing garlands and gourds on everything, and baking up a storm. We’re right in there, of course, looking anxiously for the first frosty night (way, waaaaay off, if the warm sunny days after the one fluke day of icy rain are any indication), checking for full moons, and looking up every time a ragged line of geese goes honking by in practice formation. Californians, at least, love Autumn, because it tries so hard. In a state largely without seasons (but now, with climate change, we’re getting …something) just the green leaves crisping into brown, even without a major yellow-gold-red color show (Oh, hush, East Coast) is a favorite thing for many.

Thanksgiving is at our house again this year, because we have the most space coupled with the least number of people in residence. We think we’ll be more prepared this year than last – first, we won’t have just moved in (despite what it looks like with the boxes half packed to move, as we were planning a month ago. ::sigh::). We have a heater for the cold basement office/game room, which means we have a place to escape from the Wee let the Wee boys play, and stretch-out space for the interminable games – Six Hour Monopoly (which happens when you play with the very young), very short Scrabble games (where people CHEAT), and possibly this year, league-level (hah) Canasta, which we somehow have to reteach everyone every single year. The social bits all work out – T’s family amuses each other even when it’s not a holiday – but our dinner menu is going to be Something Of A Challenge this time around. Against a holiday menu that traditionally focuses so heavily on that aforementioned autumn baking, we’ll balance:

  1. one hardcore vegan
  2. one flexible vega
  3. six carnivores
  4. one flexitarian/pescatarian
  5. three vegetarians

– PLUS! – three near diabetics and one kidney failure patient on a modified renal diet which is supposed to include nearly no salt, low protein, no carbonation, and low liquid overall. Not counting food dislikes or allergies – Oh, yes! We also have one gluten sensitive/intolerant – this salt free, sugar free, low carb, meat free, dairy free thing is going to be quite something. If looked at it from the perspective of making one meal with courses, it would be somewhat impossible. Fortunately, this family subscribes to the Are You Kidding, Make It Yourself school of holiday meals.

A few wise hosts are putting their guests on notice about their finicky food preferences this year, but since the “preferences” in our family are more a matter of necessity, we’re going to try and stretch our investigative skills. There has to be something really special we can make for the dialysis diet. We’re already on our way with the vegan desserts – throwing low carb and gluten free into the mix should be easy enough, right? After a few years practice making turkey for Christmas for Everyone, D’s gotten pretty good at it, so the carnivores are easy. Kind of.

Holiday meals are about gratitude – being grateful for the company of friends, the history (if not the present) of our nation, and the presence of family, etc. This year, we’re going to be truly grateful for the food, and that we have the leisure to experiment, that there are always new tastes and techniques to discover, and that we love each other enough to try to make what could be seen as a frustration into something uniquely …us.

Cookie Capers: A Swing and a Miss, But Not An Utter Fail

Peanut Butter Thumbprint Cookies 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that peanut butter is a quintessentially American food. Isn’t it amazing how those “universal truths” are often utterly wrong? The Aztecs were actually the first to mess about with peanut-mashing, creating a paste that was a proto-peanut butter. Of course, George Washington Carver, an early food scientist, came up with three hundred uses for the humble legume between 1891 and 1927. In 1884 Marcellus Gilmore Edson – a Canadian – patented a peanut paste made from dry roasted peanuts. His work overlaps with the work of John Harvey Kellogg, whose 1895 pureé from raw peanuts was touted as a protein substitute for those without teeth (eek). In 1903 the first grinder for the specific use of grinding peanuts into peanut butter was patented, and the first recorded recipe for peanut butter cookies was in 1916. So far, not specifically American at all. Interestingly enough, the first time the traditional hash-marks appeared on top of the cookies was in a Pillsbury cookbook in 1936.. No explanation was given, so bakers assume it was to flatten them to allow them more thoroughly; others point out that it allowed allergy-sufferers to identify the peanut butter ingredient. (Nerdy “The More You Know!” history lesson sourced via About.com, TIME magazine’s brief history of peanut butter, and The National Peanut Board.)

According to the statistics people, America is the third largest peanut producer worldwide (hi Texas and Georgia!) and Americans eat around 700 million pounds of peanut butter per year (about 3 pounds per person). While we know that no one who reads this blog is by any means average, that does speak to a people who love their peanut butter – and their peanut butter cookies.

Typically, until recently, T. absolutely hated them.

The biggest complaint most people have about peanut butter cookies is that they’re not a low calorie food. T’s complaint? That peanut butter cookies are usually massively, ridiculously too-too-too sweet. D. posits that the sweeter the better, but T. insists that peanut butter cookies are supposed to taste of peanuts, not sugar. The argument came to its usual standstill when T. whipped up a batch of pbj cookies with… almond flour. Just to throw things off completely.

Almondy PB&C’s

Prep a cookie sheet, we used greaseproof paper. REHEAT your oven, 350F°/170°C

  • 2 C blanched almond flour
  • 1/2 C. natural peanut butter, in this case, crunchy
  • 1/4 C. Truvia or 2/4 C. agave
  • 1/4 Tbsp. vanilla extract
  • 2 tsp. baking powder
  • 1 tsp. salt
  • 1 large egg or 1/4 C. ground flax, plus 3 Tbsp. water for egg replacement

Peanut butter cookies are simple enough to bring together – cream together your salt, sugar, your fats and your egg, at the last, add the flour and prepare for something ridiculously sticky. It took less than half an hour to roll the dough into simple balls. D. suggested that, since he didn’t want not-very-sweet peanut butter cookies that chocolate might as well be involved, since he doesn’t really like it. Lindt 85% was made into a quick ganache and used in place of the traditional jam thumbprint. Honestly, that was a mistake. Actually, there were a few mistakes:

Peanut Butter Thumbprint Cookies 2

    What We Did Wrong

  • We forgot to spray PAM on the greaseproof paper. Yes. It’s greaseproof, but the cookies will still stick slightly if they’re not entirely cooled
  • We forgot to let the cookies entirely cool. ANYTHING made with almond flour MUST be allowed to cool quite a bit; it’s tender and delicate
  • We should have used a Silpat or something like it. It’s easy to get very brown bottoms to your foods when using sugar subs; Silpat helps it cook easily, cool quickly, and look better
  • We should have mixed sugars. Truvia is already made up of stevia and erythritol; in our quest to avoid weird aftertastes or the “cleansing” side effect of using many sugar alcohols, we’ve avoided Splenda. A tiny bit of Splenda? Is workable. A couple of tablespoons might have been helpful here, as it seemed to D. like the cookies got less sweet as time went on, and the peanut butter flavor took over.

What We Did Right:

  1. We tried.
  2. The list on the positives here might seem pretty short — it’s not. The attempt is A Big Deal. A lot of people, when faced with a necessary change in a diet, just… can’t. New, weird ingredients with strange names and unpredictable outcomes are really enough to make a person discouraged. It’s easier, in many ways, to retreat to “okay” foods, and try to stick with old favorites, than venture out into something new. Food blogger friends have urged us to get back in the game, but we’ve kind of become the worst kinds of food bloggers, the kinds who don’t blog about food. It’s because, to be blunt, there are a LOT of mistakes in the kitchen these days. Tons. We dump out baked items, bowls of batter, and we kind of hate ourselves just a little each time for the waste. But, waste and flops is how we fuel creation.

    The verdict is that this is one tender, tasty and delicious piece of cookie. The chocolate was weird – it lost its temper and became really oddly crumbly – but with a dollop of low sugar Smucker’s, these will be a completely yummy compliment to a mug of Assam tea, or even a glass of milk. The almond flour makes these cookies more tender than the traditional peanut butter cookie, and they don’t have the sandy/shortbready feel of some recipes. (Have you ever had a gritty peanut butter cookie? T. has. It bewildered her.) T. feels this tenderness is an improvement. D. remains ambivalent.

    As the days continue to cool and baked goods seem like a better and better idea (along with turning on the furnace – which we’re delaying until October, if we can), we’re going to keep messing with these recipes, working to see what we can do with them, and continue to try and perfect the tender, spongy scone – with just a tiny bit of fresh cranberry and orange zing (that was a success!), fine-tune our carrot cake muffins (still needs work) and present you with some new things to try – mainly because of sheer cussed stubbornness, but also because we love to tinker, and we’ve never met a recipe we couldn’t make better. (Or, our version of better, anyway.)

    Cheers, and happy autumn!

Home, Making

2013 Benicia 037

Once again, we draw to the close of another California summer. Unlike last year at this time, we’re not moving – yet – but that’s coming. Boxes are half-packed, projects are wrapping up, priorities are shifting, and we’re hopeful about future endeavors. We’re about to hit the road again — and , yes – we’ve been saving toward to a trip to Scotland sometime this autumn. It doesn’t hurt to have something waiting in the wings, to anticipate. Without these things, life tends to be just a little … flat, somehow.

On D’s end of the world, projects have really changed. We’d made a commitment to actually move in the location of one of his work-sites, but felt we’d be better served by waiting for a different project to come along. Finger crossed, we’ll know something more today! It’s been strange for D. to have been on two projects already this year, but he’s hopeful that longer-term positions – with fewer corporate politics – are on the horizon.

Meanwhile, T., who started a novel to give herself a break from revising a different one, has finally finished the replacement novel… and, right now, likes it better. Her agent is both amused and ambivalent. “Okay, then, give me that one,” is his response. Meanwhile, during the polishing of various pages, the beginnings of three other novels have sprouted in her head… so many ideas, so little time, and so much pouting when it comes time for revisions. Typical, typical.

It has been a beautiful summer. Aside from the spike during the first week of July – which we spent in Baltimore, trying to breathe water – the weather has been a lovely thing. The nippy nighttime lows in the 40’s/10’s and the days in the balmy 70’s-80’s/high 10’s-20’s, has made the days roll past pleasantly. We’ve made sure to keep our California Residency Kits nice and updated by both mucking about in the dirt a little bit – our Garden Away From Home has produced tomatoes, lovely cucumbers, and a watermelon is getting to the proper size at last – and tie-dyeing a few things, as one does when one lives here. ☺ (T. was born in San Francisco. Some things just come with the territory.)

Ice Dying 1.5

We have had fun exploring a new form of dyeing which includes ice. Very correct for summer, indeed! We took soda-ash treated fabric and crumpled the damp fabric on stacked racks in the sink. We piled on crushed ice onto the top layer until the fabric was entirely covered, and then sprinkled powdered dye in various spatterings all over it. It’s not exactly tie-dye, it’s a bit more random, especially with the effect of the dilution/dripping from the melting ice from one layer to the next. The combination of splotches, drips, and the sharper colors from the dye concentrate remind us of Monet’s blurry impressionistic pointillism. We’re looking forward to finding better surfaces and doing a big project like a set of sheets. (The porcelain sink really did not love us for mucking about in it, but oh, well. Onward!)

In the midst of our happy, there is a bit of sad giving us some perspective. T’s kid sister is stuck in the hospital this week with a failing kidney. This latest bump on the road to failure, while imminent for a long, long time, coincided with the first week of her senior year in high school, which is just a big, fat crock of crap. Usually a girl with a penumbra of attitude and energy that extends three feet in any direction, now she’s drained and exhausted — and suddenly looks pretty small, which is a hard dose of reality to her family and friends. We continue to keep our fingers crossed that bed rest and massive antibiotics will let her pull out just one more year of use out of her gimpy kidneys, so she can wave goodbye to high school in style.

While others cheer the return of school rooms or favorite TV shows, for us, autumn is about the house being cool enough to bake! We eyed Smitten Kitchen’s almond crisped peaches, but never managed to make them, as the peaches – so huge and lovely from the Dixon Fruit Market – have simply never lasted long enough in this house! That’s a recipe to come back to, however.

Low Carb Lemon Teacakes

In early March, there was a round of medical visits which gave us some expected – but unwelcome – news – heredity strikes again. Our families on both sides tend toward diabetes, and though we’re largely healthy, our internal organs had been showing some signs of wear. In an effort to prepare for what the doctor’s prognosis of the inevitable, we’ve changed some of our dietary habits for good. What’s been missing from our diets for the last six months? Conspicuous consumption of carbohydrates.

…not fats. Some people are surprised by that, but we were not… we’ve had an inkling all along that it wasn’t the butter or the eggs but the sugar that was going to ding us in the end. It makes us a little grumpy to be right…:sigh:.

As everyone knows, changing any dietary habit is really difficult – but tinkering with one of the building blocks of the food group seemed, at first, pretty dire. The name of this blog, way back in – sheesh, 2004? – was “Wish I Were Baking.” It wasn’t “Wish I Were Steaming Kale,” although that’s a fairly awesome name if you’re not obsessed with getting the perfect rise from a loaf of artisan bread. There was a lot of mental adjustment that had to take place, we knew, if any changes were going to be successful. If you look at a required change in your life as a tragedy… you can forget about it happening. We firmly elected to still find things to enjoy.

With that attitude in hand, we’ve been relieved to discover that it’s not been very hard. (Faced with the choice of your liver and pancreas imploding in flames, or drinking unsweetened iced tea instead of soda, what choice would you make?) Not only that, we’re enjoying the challenge. Cooks and bakers have had hundreds and thousands of years to perfect baking with traditional ingredients – flours, sugars, etc. – but there’s a lot less out there about tasty, healthy low-carb ingredients. (Please note the preface “tasty” before “healthy.” There’s enough out there that does not include either of those two things, trust us.) We’ve been waiting eagerly for the days to cool a bit, before launching ourselves into baking again. We’ve made a few experimental forays – which we haven’t photographed.

Low Carb Banana Cake

We call those things that don’t get on camera “Learning Experiences.” There were The Waffles of Brickyness, when Axel was visiting, which were the heaviest things we’d ever eaten. We learned from that, of course; namely that coconut flour is ALL FIBER and must be used sparingly and with some gluten powder, for goodness sakes. Most recently, the Pear Tart of Awful was a completely unnecessary disaster – fresh pears, lemon zest, vanilla, almond flour… and a sneaky quarter teaspoon of xanthan gum some bright light decided to include. What is xanthan gum for? Not homemade pear tarts, T.. Next time, we’ll stick to adding it to the one recipe we bought it for. Ugh. A shame, when we’d even made it vegan and everything… :sigh: Time to repeat the Test Kitchen Mantra: We cook, we fail, we move on.

Of course, we can’t go on and on about the amusing failures without discussing the successes. The slightly crumbly pigs-in-blankets – we hadn’t quite learned how almond flour worked, but those were tasty, even if they didn’t quite stay together. And, Lemon tea cakes, anyone? Yes, please. Tender and fragrant and a perfect combination of citrus and sweet. Very tasty, and quick, which was fun. A “throw-it-together” banana bread also turned out well, which just proves that you can make banana bread anytime, anywhere, out of pretty much anything. We are pleased with the lift the quick breads have – a really nice crumb, so we’re encouraged to keep trying! Up next will be a made-over recipe for the date slice we loved so well in Scotland – aka a date bar. A short almond crust, chopped pecans, and dates… yum. We’re also eying a lemon poundcake made with coconut and almond flour – dense, moist, and citrussy heaven. And, once they’re almost foolproof, recipes to follow.

Not every dish can have the natural sweetness of dates or bananas – sometimes, you just need rich, bitter chocolate. Our experiments with sweeteners in that vein have been mixed. There are tons of sugar substitutes – sugar alcohols – on the market – but only a very few which do not cause gastric distress in the amounts used in baking. However, we’ve had success in mixing a little bit of this, and a little bit of that – a blend of stevia and erythritol, the sugar substitute popular in Japanese cuisine, has seemed to work well thus far. Interestingly, erythritol isn’t all that sweet – it’s about 70% as sweet as sugar. However! With the addition of vanilla, one can trick the brain into thinking it’s eating something much sweeter. (We got this tip from a recent issue of Nature.) All these experiments and recipe makeovers are a work in progress, and the amount of small successes we’ve had has encouraged us to try bigger things… like that pear tart. :shudder: Well, we’re not fans of the idea of a “test kitchen” for nothing…

Our best “discovery” has been almond flour – it is lovely and nutty – completely gluten free, and very low in carbohydrate. A couple tablespoons of vital wheat gluten helps it lift in quick breads or biscuits, and a little lemon zest gives it interest – it seems to need a little citrus punch to keep it from being too nutty/sweet – but we’ve not managed to figure out how to use it for yeast breads – and that’s okay. Perfection probably shouldn’t be messed with, so we’re looking forward to turning out the perfect, crusty loaf of sourdough rye – and learning to sprout our own grain – and just eating our daily bread sparingly, with gratitude.

Benicia 036

Truly: with gratitude. We’re down a few pounds, and feeling healthy. We have options. We have optimism, creativity and stamina, and a lot of garbage bags. We’re going to be just fine.

Nothing but blue skies ahead – and full ovens, soon. Happy autumn.

Freeway Pilgrims and Other Sojourners: On Travel

If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home.” – James Michener

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A friend said recently that travel wasn’t fun anymore.

While this may not be ground-breaking, and while she specified air travel in particular, the idea that travel is supposed to be fun is perhaps more significant. People used to go on pilgrimages and take long sea journeys as part of a sacred duty or their life’s work. They gathered their households onto their backs and set out on foot for better food, more land, better opportunities, better lives. It wasn’t for fun. Beautiful island locations why not try these out and understand where you can do a photoshoot. It was necessity, curiosity, and that stupid Manifest Destiny, but not just “fun,” as we understand it now. It’s only now that we have so much where we are that going elsewhere to look at something else is supposed to be part of the lark. And yet, fun is the expectation.

The only problem with the idea of “travel as fun” is that when people are involved, fun can be difficult.

Oh, don’t think that’s just the misanthropic/anthropophobic curmudgeon point of view. People in their normal habitats – eating, shopping, going to school – are fine. People in the act of traveling outside of their normal haunts – in and around airports, or on crowded interstate freeways, in train or at BART stations – those people are usually not fine. Impatient, rushing, pushy, increasingly belligerent people; loud, drunk, boundary-ignorant and vexing, these people’s public faces are something we sometimes wish they left at home. Is it because the toys of our culture allow us solo entertainment that we’ve lost the ability to get along in groups? Courtesy is not a lost art – truly, it’s not. In a thousand different ways, people show kindness to strangers, even in airports. It only seems like the vast majority prefers to act as boorish in public as possible.

“Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.” – Maya Angelou

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Travel does not always bring out our shiniest side. Even with the familiarity of the routines of security theater and suitcase maneuvering, we still have moments of bewilderment, as the unexpected takes over. Even things one expects one can count on, like the temperaments of friends, can come into question. People who are one way at home can, in a hotel room, emerge as beings wholly other than previously experienced. Friends who traveled with their grown children this past year have indicated that it wasn’t quite what they expected, and after travels with her adolescent son, another friend said the words “never again” quite firmly (and so did we). Couples we’ve known, traveling together, have decided to end their journeys solo after discovering that hardship and inconvenience does not bring out the best in every partner.

“I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.” – Lillian Smith

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Travel – this curious, ephemeral thing – is a gift. We are weaned on the idea of life being a journey, a locomotion from Birth to Death, with sightseeing along the way. That’s both part of this expansionist American culture – we’ve been chasing that Manifest Destiny forever, despite officially calling it a distasteful ideology – and part of a car-culture road-tripping West Coast heritage. Roads even wind through our language — someone “takes a turn for the worse.” We have “a rough road ahead,” or a “rocky road” might be dessert or a hard luck story. Robert Frost’s “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – ” – Virginia Slims “You’ve come a long way, Baby” – we’ve been, as a people, on the move for a long, long time, before chuck wagons and wagon trains. Perhaps it is a part of an American’s Puritan roots; if you believe that you are “but a pilgrim and a stranger;” just someone passing through, that there is a degree of impermanence to the place where you are, and the state of your existence, this changes the way you think. Things matter both more and less that you’d perhaps previously believed, if we’re all on our way elsewhere.

In grasping for that permanent impermanence, we are both energized and freed. If we are all on a journey, then we can take a deep breath when someone jumps a line and gets on the plane sooner than us. The progress isn’t where we are in line on the freeway, but the destination, yes? Getting there one car-length ahead will only anger those people we cut in front of, possibly damage our own bumpers, and cause further delays. And is it really our right to make things less fun for anyone else? Probably, no.

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” – Jack Kerouac

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If we are merely traveling, and our destination is our life’s purpose, then making sure that we all get there in one piece should be an objective. With that worldview, picking up someone else’s luggage and helping them get it into the overhead compartment shouldn’t be out of the question. It is freeing to realize that, rather than each choice locking us into a permanent road, the choices we make as we travel are merely crossroads – and U-turns are still available, as is backtracking. If we miss a plane or a turn, we can try again. Travel does not exist in the realm of “only” and black and white.

While traveling, we may get sick from the water, we may not understand the language, but as long as we’re not home, we still have a chance to see things we haven’t seen. We should never fear being lost, because the journey back will always give us new insights, as we travel. Certainly, we’ve come away with better stories – remember that time we saw the spotted piglets on that one dirt road when we were lost that one time? – that we would have had staying on the paved roads of familiarity.

As every Hobbit knows, not all who wander are lost.

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…A reflection on travel as fun, as we near the end of this summer of Here and There and home again, a summer of knowing where we’re going, of celebrating where we’ve been; of acknowledging that this is not where we plan to stop for long; an exploration of the journey as equally imperative as the destination.

“When we get out of the glass bottle of our ego and when we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we don’t know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in…” – D. H. Lawrence

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Adventures With Axel

He was our pronunciation go-to and prime Glaswegian accent mimic in Scotland, and now he’s in America… cheerfully making fun of the Minnesotan accent. Continuing to make us giggle like loons in public, it’s the return of Axel! And time for another ordinary-day Adventure!

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The coast near what we call “home” for a little bit longer… (moving inland – packing continues).

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And here, a cawing, cackling bevy of grebes and seagulls. A coven? A gossip?

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Cruisin’ on the waterfront, in his ’38 (or was it ’28?) somethingorother. His very noisy somethingorother. Still, so very cool – and he was proud enough to pause and pose for us.

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So, we’re walkin’ the waterfront in the cool of the … Wait. What is that guy doing? Throwing something to the birds? Playing catch? In that filthy, freezing water!?

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The filthy is …unarguable, but he’s practically naked. Axel tests the waters and says “it’s not that bad.” We dare him to get in. Oddly, he ignores this.

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Time to leave the swimmers behind and find some sushi. Ciao!

Three Things: Home & Away

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The world is beautiful through our rear view mirror, but there’s also hope for blue skies ahead…

Just looked up to realize that it was our friend Axel’s 2nd anniversary, and J&L’s first anniversary, so we’ve really and truly been here in the U.S. now for a solid year and some change.

In the give and take of this unusual summer – with friends arriving and departing, doing quite a bit of traveling ourselves, and in realizing that it’s about time to start packing AGAIN – we’ve been thinking a lot about our own arrival and future destinations. There are certainly a few things about our lives that have changed since we’ve been back.

Number one, we no longer tilt our faces to the sun, whenever it’s out. In Glasgow this summer, people are having the season of their LIVES, in many cases – glorious sunshine, lovely, balmy days, smiles all over. And you believe the world is beautiful, when the sun shines in Scotland. All nine zillion shades of green sparkle from sapphire and emerald, and people are kinder, and everything is just – amazing. They’ve all said that it can’t last, and of course, autumn will come eventually, but it is GLORIOUS just now, and we wish we were there to see it. ANY sunny day, when we were in Glasgow, found people lining the benches in the parks, peeling off shirts, exposing every bit of themselves to the sunshine. Entire neighborhoods camped out on the green, playing with their dogs, passing ’round a drink, just loving the moment. And, arriving home as red as scalded lobsters and a little sun-drunk the next day, but still, everyone would say it was worth it.

Living where we do, this summer we’ve sometimes gone for full days with fog that doesn’t lift… but we no longer have the little niggling worry in the back of our minds that the gray might last for six months. We trust in the reappearance of the sun.

Number two, we no longer have soundtracks running in our heads at all times. That’s kind of sad, really. We came away from Glasgow at the close of our concert season, music just tumbling through our heads. At any given time, both of us, or either of us could be found humming something, singing some tricky patch of harmony in Latin or German or Italian. It brought almost a physical ache leaving our music behind. If you’ve ever performed with an orchestra, with hundreds of voices and instruments doubling your own small sound, and making the rafters ring with sound, you’ll understand what we mean. Not having found the kind of choir interaction we had back there has meant that we’ve needed to put that aside for awhile, so as to not be completely overwhelmed. We’ve found that we kind of miss the music in our heads, and we’re looking forward to reacquainting ourselves with grappling with a major work of music, and the joys and frustrations of choral music.

Number three, and this one makes us laugh, we no longer are jumpy around cars. It’s so symptomatic of how West Coast Americans are enmeshed with car culture that when we had a period of time where we didn’t normally ride around in cars, and were on foot or lumbering buses for much of the time, that we forgot about speed. We forgot about merging lanes. We forgot about all of the things that we had to remember to survive in car culture… and coming back was tough. We both noted that we were tentative about being behind the wheel. We were both more apt to opt out of driving, if we didn’t have to do it. And we neither of us ever went as fast as the speed limit, much less exceeded it… well, that’s certainly over, and we’re back to our old habits.

We pulled out the Scrabble game the other night, and realized we no longer take pictures of our epic word battles – because we don’t take much time to play in person anymore. The arrival of friends who bemoaned the loss of the lemon cake reminded us that we’re not doing as much baking, either (although, experiments in lower-carb baking are forthcoming! Stay tuned! We made ice cream cones once already, trying to make waffles! We’re not ready quite to blog the flops, but it IS happening!). When we were Away, we lived our lives in a different rhythm, and though we held onto it, and made decisions which support us keeping things simple, it has become apparent that simplicity is elusive.

We don’t want to lose everything of what we learned and gained from being away… perhaps even some of the ache is necessary to keep, so that we know what we’re missing… so we’re moved to keep a little of Away nestled in, next to our hearts, wherever we make Home.

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