Posts Tagged ‘food’

Road Update: Summer in the PNW

Saturday, June 11th, 2016

I’m back in the Seattle area for a few months over the summer, recovering and enjoying being able to stand upright in my house again.

Interestingly, the room I had rented from a friend for almost 3 years was available when I arrived, so I am back in my old house, with some of my old furniture, even.

I’d had reservations about spending a lot of time here, given the reminders and ghosts around, but it seems as though perhaps I have indeed adopted some emotional recovery skills over the years, and it’s been more soothing and reclaiming than painful overall.

I’m working outside a few days a week, with a training program called DIRTcorps, Duwamish Infrastructure Restoration Training. It’s a unique and vibrant program in which people from the underserviced and largely disadvantaged South end of Seattle learn contracting and landscaping skills while actively reclaiming the Duwamish waterways and wetlands via their learning projects.

Last Saturday we did a ton of great work on a project I took a small lead role in — drilling lots of holes into 1/4″ steel poles — which will eventually be part of the largest green screen in Seattle. That’s my grinning mug on the job site above, along with Fedora (who introduced me to the program), and our crew.

I spend time both in restoration and construction as well as on an educational farm, which I get to eat some of the food from! I’m weeding and mulching and weeding and aerating soil and weeding and harvesting and weeding and digging holes and weeding and weeding and weeding.

This, along with being generously offered my old stomping ground again, have been very restorative experiences for me. And, I am FINALLY moving my body, after two years away from aerial, which was tough at first but so relieving once I got going.

Pies

Monday, May 23rd, 2016

Huh.

Baking pies is fucking messy. Like seriously, the oven is a battlefield. Guts dripped everywhere.

It’s a strawberry and rhubarb. Strawberry and rhubarb that I helped harvest today at the farm, and then came home and made a fucking pie out of it. For the filling I used brown sugar, lemon zest/juice, cinnamon, a little flour and fresh lemon balm (also from the farm).

I NEED a crust recipe. I like flake, and salt, and butter, and almost a smoked cream kind of finish to pie crust. How do I do that? SOMEONE TELL ME HOW TO DO THAT. OMG.

I am so excited for the blueberries we’re going to have later this season. I was wondering what I might pair them with in a pie. Probably Meyer lemon and thyme, or tarragon.

But I’d use orange zest, instead of lemon like this pie, and maybe crush a bit of black sea salt on a dollop of vanilla whip. I’d probably try a warm sour cream drizzle with a raspberry and maybe a slice of dark chocolate on top also to see if I liked that better.

Bone broth and roasted vegetable pot pie. With sage and a tiny sprinkle of gruyere browned in the edges of the crust.

Cheeses around the crusts!!

omgomg I feel like I’m blowing my own mind right now. !!! The ideas keep flooding in.

Apple, maybe Braeburn, with sweet onion and basil in the filling, and browned cheddar around the edge of the crust.

Garbanzo bean and spinach filling, lots of herbs and spices, sliced avocado on top.

Roasted radish, parsnip, garlic, leek. Garnished with parsley, maybe rosemary and some mixed olive tapenade.

Sweet potato and kale, fried egg on top.

When I have access to awesome food, fucking magic happens. What a fucking rewarding, badass summer I’m gonna have. Two in a row now. Shitchea.

Roosters last day

Tuesday, September 15th, 2015

My slow start to my day includes sitting here gnawing on the leg of a rooster I killed for meat yesterday.

Watching the video was actually much more emotional for me than doing it.

I think that illuminates some things for me, including how tender and anxious I am about how I am perceived by other people from the outside, but also gives me insight into what I was thinking while I was doing it.

Mostly I was thinking DEAR SHIT DON’T FUCK THIS UP and imagining some poor half dead chicken sputtering around after I failed to break his neck.

That’s not what happened but as it turns out they kinda.. sputter around anyway.

I was also thinking about his long life, about the meat industry, about how most roosters are chucked live in a grinder by the time they’re old enough to be determined boys.

Being this close to my food is intense. I had guidance, but I plucked him and gutted him and sectioned him and pressure cooked him myself. I can see why some people wouldn’t have the inclination toward it. In fact, I thought I probably wouldn’t be able to eat the meat once the killing was my responsibility.

I thought wrong.

I don’t want to not eat meat because I am disgusted and scared. Plants feel us eating them, too. Life feeds on life. That is the nature of living. It is not avoidable. What is avoidable is the horrible way it’s done, and the degree that it is done.

With agriculture and meat raising in the state it’s in, it’s pretty much impossible to eat intentionally unless it’s from your own back yard. So then it ends up being checks and balances and what’s tolerable and what isn’t. Such a pain in the ass. Especially when, like me, you don’t have a back yard.

I keep thinking more and more that I am wasting my time in social justice. All I’m doing is figuring out more eloquent ways to complain about the systems that keep existing. Lots of people are doing that better than I am. I need to keep working on figuring out ways around them.

How can I live in a van in a way that doesn’t feel like I’m raping the planet?

How can I cook without a kitchen?

How can I continue make MY music and still keep shedding industrialized habits?

So many thinks.

Thank you, Mr. Rooster.

Next up: The Bosque Village

Tuesday, August 4th, 2015

The conversations have been had, the mutual admiration has been expressed, the values and goals are well aligned, the time is right, the action item list is soft drafted. I’ve the plane ticket and the passport renewal submitted in plenty of time (presuming no catastrophic postal issues) and am thus ready to let the population at large know what my patrons have been hearing for a while now – after having Brian Fey and his amazing project on my radar for many years, my next adventure begins in September, in Mexico, at the Bosque Village.

A good page to familiarize ones self with what the Bosque is: https://www.quora.com/Mexico/What-is-the-Bosque-Village/answer/Brian-Fey?share=1

The Bosque facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/bosqueforest

Patrons will continue to get my personal experience and musings/updates about my travels. $5 a month at http://patreon.com/courtnee gets you all the updates and the opportunity to support what I am doing, directly. Sign up, and spread the word if you would. My goal is to break 35 patrons before I depart in September.

A large part of my contribution to the Bosque will include video production, process documentation and social media, in addition to faciltating music, art, movement programs and of course, hands on learning about sustainable forest living.
Between my personal projects, philosophical musings, and the work I will be doing to contribute to the Bosque specifically, I expect to enjoy a very rich and busy rest of 2015.

BAM.

Three days of food for $14

Thursday, December 4th, 2014

I got:

Celery
Carrots
One Russet Potato
One Sweet Potato (which I haven’t used yet)
An Onion
Two cloves of garlic
Package of stir-fry chicken on sale

Eating celery and carrot sticks for snacks and lunches, still have half the onion and garlic left, and have still been keeping this tiny crock pot full and at the ready for the last three days, likely another.

I will just need another $3 package of meat before I will be needing anything else to keep it going.

Thank you for the gift, Serret.

New Holiday: June 27, name day

Friday, June 27th, 2014

Seared scallops, roasted garlic, crispy kale, heirloom tomatoes and avocado slices in a miso and butter broth with fresh lemon.

Created by me, for me, to celebrate a day I became more me.

Also; I had an ice cream cone. :D

EMFUCKINGBODIED

Saturday, November 30th, 2013

I swear I just saw myself for the first time

I told myself in the mirror

As I cried after connecting so incredibly profoundly with multiple people (And once again meeting another incredible man I can’t have in my life like I would prefer, god damn stupid growth opportunities)

“You are..

An amazing woman.

And you will ALWAYS be
An amazing woman.

No matter what
Anyone else thinks.

And when you die,
The world will be a better place

Because you
were in it.”

I am an artist.
And I am fucking amazing
And I am going to get what I want for myself.

Because I am worth it.
And there is no worthier cause than my happiness.

Thank you for showing me what is possible.
And thank you for believing in me.

For the love of

Saturday, September 28th, 2013

What happens when an overworked artist gives herself food poisoning a few days before the gig that she’d planned to rehearse primarily in the days leading up to the event?

Well, it means that you do all the rehearsal you’d planned in the afternoon before the evening gig – and this is what it looks like when both costumes have open knees.

The part where I was processing the tail end of the bacterial onslaught, literally, before and between performances, was an extra special bonus.

Yeah. It sounds super dramatic, but really wasn’t all that derailing – just a little loosey-goosey in the rear and didn’t stay for the party after. Think twice before eating that old floppy broccoli, though.

Currently icing my back, stretching my shoulder, and have my knees treated and bandaged. Drinking herbal tea, about to eat some protein, and crash like a sack of smashed assholes. Zzzrr…

I still rocked it, btw.

Winning Streak

Sunday, August 25th, 2013

Until today, it had been 27 days since I had seen a streak on my toilet paper. Today, that incredible record, was broken. It was broken, after a month or so of eating mostly salads, roasted veggies, meat, and fruit – by eating at a Mexican restaurant (Matador in W Sea).

As it stands, they were both single wipers an hour or so after eating food that was too spicy.

This seems right with the world to me. I can accept this. In fact, I would have been concerned were this not the case, as I would have assumed that I had some sort of weird poop sliming virus and started freaking out about whatever kind of colon cancer or somesuch thing I must have contracted.

Welcome to my new standard of health.

Also, speaking of figuring out things with my body: During my underwater photoshoot tonight (HOLY SHIT GUYS) I realized that my giant horrible sinus infection gone crazy kicked in after that string of underwater shoots in 2010. It’s not much, but I take what I can get figuring this stuff out.

So this time, I flushed my sinuses with distilled water. They’re already completely filled with pool water, it could only help. I also¬†flushed my eyes and dried my ear canals (rubbing alcohol) and sat up for quite a while draining. So if I don’t get sick it’s because I fixed it, not cause my instinct about the correlation was wrong. Ha. Suck on that, world!

BTW, does everyone get water up their nose when they swim? Like, unless I’m plugging, it happens to me the second I stop actively blowing the shit out of my air. Sucks.

The Art of Stock

Thursday, June 27th, 2013

During my stay with my friends Per and Ingrid, who enjoy cooking with fresh food and especially bone-in meats, I came to discover that *gasp* they don’t save their trimmings and bones for stock makings. Blasphemy!

Stock is awesome. It’s cheap as hell, even if you buy everything for it specifically, and easy to make. It adds flavor and nutrition to just about anything savory that you make with water traditionally. It’s a great start for sauces and gravies of all kinds, and makes for an excellent base for cups of warm broth when you’re under the weather. It allows for fast and healthy soup preparation, and cuts down on your waste factor, too.

“But I don’t use stock!” you say. Well, that’s partially because you don’t have containers of delicious home made beef jello in your freezer on demand. If you did, you’d be a lot more likely to find neat ways to use it. And having stock means that when you’re cooking a recipe that calls for broth, (even if it’s only on holidays, yo.) you know what’s in the broth and that it’s not full of preservatives and unnecessary sodium. Plus, at least for me, the act itself of making stock is grounding and nurturing and feels good.

“But I don’t have time!” you say. You probably do. You freeze the makings until you’re ready to use them, so there’s no pressure to make stock before your loot goes bad. You can make a damn fine chicken stock in about 5 hours, and you barely have to pay attention to it. That’s throwing the pot on the stove when you get home from work. If you’re ok with having something on the stove overnight it’s even easier. And really, aren’t you supposed to be making more time for yourself to relax, anyway?

I said I’d write down my method for them before I left, and forgot to, so I figured rather than send them an email, I would take the opportunity to jot it down here. Behold, after a couple years of research and experimentation, my method for making stocks:

Gathering ingredients: I generally have two large freezer bags in my freezer – one for meat, and one for veggies. Occasionally, if I happen to have bones from multiple animals, I’ll have a poultry bag and a cute land mammal bag. Though I’m big on experimentation I don’t really mix chicken/duck/turkey with beef/pork bones when making stock, the poultry is inevitably overpowered.

Bones: I roast chickens at home and save the carcass. Or, I get a roasted chicken on sale from my grocery and save that carcass. I take my bones home from restaurants. Sometimes, when I tell them it’s for stock, they will go to the trouble of packing me other bones they have laying around, too. When I want something specific, like cow knees for beef gelatin, I go to a bone fide butcher, and get bones for about .80c a pound. Keep the joints and the tendons and the gristle! That’s the best part for stock!

Veggies: I keep my ends and tops of veggies, and unused portions. Keeping things like kale stocks has encouraged me away from pre-packaged bags of kale to actual bushels of kale and to enrich my relationship with my food. Onions, carrots, sweet potato, leeks, kale stocks, that kind of thing. I stay away from delicate veggies like spinach or fruits that masquerade as veggies, like cucumber and tomato. I also don’t use whole garlic in my stock because it takes over, but I might try it for a veggie stock some day.

Ok, now that we have all that out of the way: This is how I make stock.

1) Add bones, enough water to cover them, and 1tbsp unfiltered apple cider vinegar to pot
2) Simmer 3-8 hours, adding water occasionally to keep desired level
3) Add veggies and herbs (Sage, Rosemary, Thyme, and a Bay leaf)
4) Simmer another 1-3 hours
5) Cool, strain, refrigerate/freeze
6) EAT THAT SHIT!

Starting the stock
I put what’s probably about 1.5 pounds of cooked bones or a chicken carcass in a 10qt stock pot, cover it with cold water (warm water if I’m in a hurry), add about a tablespoon of unfiltered apple cider vinegar, and put it on the stove on medium-low heat (the heat which I have found keeps a stock at a simmer when uncovered).

Some people skim the top of their stock once the water comes up to a simmer – I historically do not. I want all that stuff in my stock and I like for it to have sediment and as much fat and nutrition in it as I can get. This is a matter of personal choice. I think it’s more important to skim beef stock than poultry, personally.

The vinegar helps draw nutrients from the bones. Don’t add too much or your stock will be all vinegary.

Cooking the bones
You want the stock to simmer, not boil, and you want the temperature to rise slowly. I have started on high heat and turned it down once hot before, but I don’t like it – I have to pay attention more, and I risk boiling the stock. Instead, I will cover with a lid and check in about 20 minutes to see if it’s starting to steam, then take the lid off.

I make stocks with the lid off so I can keep track of it better, and because I like to reduce my stock a lot. It’s easier to boil stock with a lid on, but it can also prevent loss of liquid if that’s what you’re going for. Your choice.

Note: I have stuck with stocks that I have boiled and they taste fine, but don’t have the jello-like consistency when cold that I want.

I simmer and reduce the stock down, then add water, reduce down, add water in a few cycles with bones only for multiple hours before adding veggies. Veggies are more delicate and can’t take as much abuse. If I am simmering a stock overnight I put it on the lowest setting I can while still seeing some bubbling and add an extra few inches of water. So far, I usually have a few more hours of reduction ahead of me in the morning.

Don’t judge your stock until you’ve added the veggies and herbs, which are the fragrant and flavorful elements.

Adding Veggies and Herbs
As for veggies, I’ve made some stocks with so many veggies I could barely fit them all in the pot, and other stocks with less. I also experiment with what types of veggies and in what ratios. The things that I tend to stick with are at least half an onion, kale stocks and a carrot. I don’t bother with celery, it can get bitter when overcooked, and I don’t use it usually and you can’t just buy a stock or two.

Once the stock is reduced down again after adding the veggies, the liquid level is blow the veggie tops. It will look like a pot of squishy wet slop. I cool it for an hour or so on a windowsill before transferring.

Getting that shit outta there
At this point I squish the solid food to the bottom with the large pasta colander insert for my stock pot (http://www.amazon.com/Cuisinart-77-412-Classic-Stainless-12-Quart/dp/B0000UV01S/) – which if I didn’t have, I would substitute a potato masher for I suppose. This presses the stockmakings to the bottom allowing the stock to rise to the top. I then pour into containers, pressing the bulk down by squeezing both sets of handles on the stock pot, through another small strainer to catch extras.

I generally get a few pints of condensed stock out of a stock pot, and freeze most of it. I eat refrigerated stock within a week.

Dilution ratios
A few tablespoons of cold jelly in a mug + boiling water = a mug of broth, I probably do a 50/50 split that way. I salt and pepper to taste for each thing I use the stock for. While it may smell really good, a bit of salt is what really brings out the flavor in a stock, as most anyone who’s used unsalted broth can probably attest.

If you wanna know more, google. There are infinite resources for this stuff online.

Do you make stock at home? How does your method differ? What are your favorite ingredients?

Happy solstice from Sweden

Friday, June 21st, 2013

Midsummer

We opted for a long walk and movies at home.

Woman Laughing Alone With Salad

Wednesday, June 19th, 2013

Photographed by Mute Photo Concept in Stockholm, Sweden

On the Road Again

Tuesday, May 21st, 2013

I’ve got a lot of things swirling around right now, but I’m discovering that I’m not ready to write about any of it yet. So, for now, pictures, and basic recap of my trip thus far. My more interesting half-fragmented thoughts will remain in draft form for a while.

For traveling with a person who a) has a dominant personality similar to mine and b) had just dislocated, broken or otherwise injured one of her floating ribs the night before, the 3 day trek from Seattle to Sacramento was almost cosmically smooth and uneventful.

Watching her pack for the trip while impossibly doped up was pretty entertaining in its own right.

We drove down to Olympia and immediately headed for Astoria, OR where we ate an ok seafood dinner, prepping to travel the coast.

We eventually decided on settling in Manzanita, a place I’d never actually been but feel familiar with because of the street named after it in Sacramento. That way we’d have something cute to wake up to the next morning.

We scored, or so I thought, a room in a beachside motel with no vacancy, by my deciding to walk in and actually check just in case.

When I opened the door my heart sank. As it turned out, the room we got was not only one of the four without a beach window, it was basically an add-on room for kids or grandma or whatever, so it was tiny and relatively skank.

Still, I had a bath and a shower and a good nights sleep – and a few laughs.

We went to breakfast at Bread and Ocean and were completely blown away by everything we ate, including the best baguette I have ever stuffed down my cake hole in my entire life. Highly recommended.

We drove down to Florence via Lincoln City, occasionally stopping to hang out on the windy coldass beaches long enough to get some pictures and talk about how windy and coldass it was.

The coast did not cooperate as much as it could have, and also the weather could have been a hell of a lot worse. We were seeing mid to upper 50’s and very little rain, not too much wind, and some interesting shifts in the atmosphere as we drove, including driving through a thick and creepy fog bank.

The sun started coming out as we were stopping at a pirate themed coffee shop just south of Lincoln City, and pretty much stayed out for the rest of the trip.

Florence, despite its frilly and hopeful name, is a complete shithole. There, we purchased some discount cheese and questionable (but hearty) produce at the local Grocery Outlet and ate lunch in the parking lot looking around and sorta smacking our mouthes with that “ick” sense that one might get just after licking into a scoop of flavorless mashed potato smashed into an ice cream cone.

It was here that we decided to turn inland, even though the better coast areas were south of us. I’ve been to Bandon and the like numerous times, already gotten my good pictures of the area, and Bev didn’t much care about it. We decided to go for time and a change of pace rather than more coastal scenery.

We stopped at some point in farmville to legstretch across a bridge and look at some cows. We’d hoped to find someplace nice to walk around and maybe nap in the sun in Florence, but that came about later at a rest stop just outside California, once the temperature reached the low 60’s for a bit of yoga in the grass.

Then, Grants Pass, for a completely bland and forgettable dinner at an Italian bistro who, for reasons no one understands, went with the Papyrus font for their branding. If any place needs Gordon Ramsey it’s them.

Mental note: Next rode trip, eat in Medford, even if the name does indirectly remind you of someone you currently can’t stand.

Also, purple and pink dusk colors become Mt. Shasta. Stunning.

We’d thought to stay in Weed that night, because ha, ha – but ended up calling it in Yreka, at a Holiday Inn Express, to make up for the freakishly ghetto room we’d had the night before.

They had an indoor salt water pool that I utilized, rad smelling toiletries, luggage carts, a king sized bed, and an included cruise-linesque breakfast, complete with a pancake making machine. Hard to ask for more on the road.

We finished off the drive through red Bluff, Chico and Yuba City, deciding to deviate from I-5 since it’s boring as fuck and has less things to buy on the side of the road. I introduced Bev to Stephen Lynch, finding that she can in fact laugh a little bit without notable repercussion.

We also stopped in Marysville to walk what will forever be known to me as GoosePoop lake, or potentially “Florence”, as Bev and I agree is our new code word for “thought it would be cute but actually it’s kinda shitty.” and got some exercise.

Once we arrived in Sacramento, we immediately killed an hour by the pool, in 90 degree weather, before unloading the car, which was easier than I expected given that I am the haul horse for the time being.

After that, dinner with Bev and her sister Judy and Judy’s husband Kirk, wherein we talked about our trip and what I would be writing about here became clear.

It’s strawberry season right now and we’ve been enjoying the amazing berries we picked up on highway 65, wishing we’d gotten more. Even the avocados and bananas we got at GrossOut are tasting pretty great. Other than that I’m doing a lot of lounging, ukulele playing and drinking iced tea.

Farmers market up the street on Thursday and on Sunday in Sac! So there.

Sunday, January 6th, 2013

*splurge*

Bitter Soda

Monday, December 17th, 2012

One of the things I have taken very seriously since having become suicidally depressed last month is my relationship with drugs and alcohol. Particularly alcohol, which has by far been the most destructive of my coping mechanisms in my life.

Of late, I have partaken rarely, usually in very small amounts when I have, and never when I have been significantly distressed. It has been important to me in my decision to surrender to the difficult feelings I have been having to do it with my eyes open.

I believe it has been about 6 weeks now, the amount of time they say it takes to develop a habit, since I began doing this exclusively when I went to bars – So I think it’s safe to say my official drink is now soda water and bitters.

Bitters are aromatic botanicals in an alcohol base and, technically, alcoholic, but in my experience they are pretty much like shooting yourself in the throat with breath spray when it comes to any effect one will feel from the few dashes that are needed to flavor a drink.

It’s actually quite fun, and encourages me not only to save money and remain sober, but to also hang out in the kinds of places I truly enjoy being at. Angostura bitters taste nice enough and are a standard I enjoy (as opposed to well alcohol which tastes like shit) but the opportunities beyond can be endless depending on where I go.

A good bartender will enjoy creating a special drink for me, include me in the process and let me see and handle all their cool little bottles. I am learning about different kinds of bitters and the types of flavors I like and getting inside scoops on where to buy from.

Self care can be hard, especially around alcohol and attempts to remain social particularly when avoiding it. Of the many changes toward health and happiness I have experienced in my life, this has been one of the easiest small, yet significant, adjustments I have made. And I really love simply letting a bartender surprise me without having the concern of ending up Gin or Jager drunk – which, let’s be honest, no one wants to see. :P

The Sun

Wednesday, November 28th, 2012

Last night was the big anger zit. I was up until 4:30 just fucking gnashing with irritation and distaste, and woke up 4 hours later from a shitty fuckass dream, and in short order was listening to the sweet melodic sounds of my cat barfing next to the bed I was still laying in. ‘Sup, Tuesday – hey, go fuck yourself yeah?

It took me a while to get moving, even though I had had grand plans of cleaning up my damn room and finally doing some laundry. Mostly I sat on facebook and email instead, still naked and half in bed, lurching over my laptop like a fucking primate trying to lick its own balls. And I was about as useful as one, really.

After that, in a fit of intense anxiety over the amount of time he will be gone over the next month (nearly every fucking weekend – ARGH), I tried in vein to break up with my boyfriend over text message, to which he responded much like this:

Yup, still knows what he got himself into. Check.

I didn’t eat until well after noon and when I did I didn’t eat much. I recognized later that it’s due to feeling toxic as hell, resulting in the resurrection of my juicer this evening. It has been neglected since the last time the weather was cold and crisp in favor of the blender for smoothies or, more recently, fucking ass food that doesn’t make my life any easier. I’ve been drawn to breads sweets and fats and haven’t given enough of a rip to resist, or make my own lunches, for the last few weeks.

I also hit the Doctor finally – blood work on D, B12, CBC and thyroid should be in by Friday when I get my annual and more than likely try my second antidepressant since I went on zoloft for about 8 weeks in 2011.

Today also ended up being the day that I went from crying periodically in pent up despair to emotional tide crying whenever the damn hell I felt like it. I did a lot of that. I cried on the bus, while walking down the street, while sitting in a restaurant, while peeing, while looking in a mirror; the works.

Once that had gone on for a while, I noticed that, when not actively crying, I was actually glancing at people while I walked to my office and doing things like looking at the people through shop windows. It occurred to me then that I hadn’t done so in a notable amount of time; I was either staring at the ground, staring at my phone, or had my face buried down in my scarf, shutting the rest of the world out of mine. Looking at people means they might be looking back at you.

I was sad, mostly, still, but it was better for some reason. I could move with and through it to interact with people and even occasionally make swift eye contact. Coming to a place of giving into not knowing why I was crying, and not letting it matter, was proving easier than inventing reasons why – like that my guy is going to leave for a weekend gig and decide he’s in love with a riverdancer, or that I am doomed to always repeat this cycle and therefore my life isn’t worth living, or because people are evil coated bastard fucks with bastard filling and I hate them all.

I had a visual of the front of my ribcage missing as I walked, the inside covered in fresh baby foliage growths just beginning to sprout from the clearcut napalmed shitstorm vacancy nearly two weeks ago now. I remember the cold air feeling raw in my chest cavity, like touching the fresh skin under a ripped foot blister.

Over the last 8 hours I’ve continued to surface and feel more ideal. Today I talked about disneyland and hard core elegant dudes like Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine, who are not much longer for this world and will make a huge gaping hole when they no longer hold the standard of Men that just seems to be slipping away, and went shopping and made juice and had a nice lunch with a good friend.

I can already feel the distance growing. It already seems like it was longer than yesterday that I was still in the pits and it feels like a lot longer than a few days ago that I was in full crisis mode. Strangers are wanting to talk with me on the street again.

Suckers.

Friday, November 9th, 2012

Can be irritatingly, painfully hungry, and yet still too picky to choose what to eat. Does that seem right to you?

Happy Birthday Edgars!

Tuesday, October 23rd, 2012

My boys birthday dinner [His only request when asked was “something involving bacon :)”]

Cocktail – Honey Jack Daniels, angostura bitters, dandelion and burdock bitters, Reeds ginger beer, fresh strawberry, lemon, soda.

Course 1 – Rinsed romane with sliced apple, strawberry, blueberry, green and red grapes, walnut oil lemon balsamic vinaigrette.

Course 2 – Baked salmon with dried herbs, everyday seasoning, meyer lemon slices.
Wild brown rice and green lentils with sundried tomato seasoned in walnut oil, pink Himalayan salt, white truffle.
Ripped kale wilted over bacon and garlic, simmered until tender in my chicken stock.

Wine – The Ghost of 413, 2009 (Columbia Valley red, gifted to me earlier this year from Aaron Tebrink of Poco Wine Room)

Course 3 – Uncured bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with gruyere and a single pistachio.

Dessert 1 – An INSANE salted caramel pie from PCC speared with ultra dark fearless chocolate, fresh raspberries (his favorite).

Dessert 2 – Chocolate pudding, sliced apple, strawberry, blueberry.

So fun.

Dinner tonight

Tuesday, October 16th, 2012

Didn’t get a picture. It didn’t look quite good enough to do that – but man it tasted good.

Preheat to 400
Cube a red, yellow and purple potato with my BRAND NEW BIRTHDAY KNIFE
Cut the treetops off two nice sized heads of broccoli.
Combine in a bowl, drizzle in olive oil. Toss.
Add large grain salt, everyday seasoning, thyme. Toss.
Spread on cookie sheet, pop in oven, set timer to 25 minutes.

Cast iron 3 pieces of bacon, sliced into ~1/2″ squares. Cook until soft.
Add Paprika salami from Cured in Leavenworth. Brown.
Add asparagus, leeks, and about 1/4 cup of yesterday’s chicken stock. Simmer down almost to sticky.
Add another 1/2 cup of chicken stock. Spread frozen butternut squash ravioli, cover and simmer until timer finishes.

Was fucking amazing.

New Breakfast Potatoes

Friday, October 5th, 2012

Two slices of bacon in hot cast iron
Add crushed garlic after turning bacon over
Add chopped red onion
Add water and cubed potatoes (one red, one yellow, one purple, 1/2 sweet)
Add ripped sage, thyme, rosemary spring
Add Everyday seasoning
Cover until potatoes are tender
Serve with cold plain yogurt

Thursday, September 6th, 2012

As of today I have graduated from cold smoothies to hot soups. Loving my Blendtech.

Thursday, September 6th, 2012

A clove of crushed garlic and some turmeric at the bottom of a cup of hot water makes the liquid surprisingly awesome tasting after it’s had a chance to steep for a while. I just timed the steep with how long it took for the water to cool down while I breathed the vapors in. Stupid sinuses.

Dessert last night

Monday, August 27th, 2012

I love this stuff.

Thursday, August 9th, 2012

Taking myself to dinner after a frustrating day of raging PMS and unacceptable tech cuntery. At least my dinner is awesome.

Monday, August 6th, 2012

Brainstorming my forthcoming garden. :) it will have KALE. Oh yes, yes it will.