Mmmmm...is for Morel

Yet another sign that Spring has, indeed, agreed to return once again: the uniquely beautiful morel. Okay, perhaps beautiful is a stretch--how about visually stimulating and intriguing to the palate?

I have childhood memories of tromping through the forest near my Illinois home--empty bread bag in hand-- following my dad between stinging nettle and poison ivy plants in search of the mythical morel. Although I don't remember personally spotting and collecting any of these well-disguised fungi, the hunt was the fun part. And, somehow, we always ended up back in the kitchen with at least a handful of the brainy treats (thanks to my dad's keen eye, I'm sure). I would get to help prepare them by dipping them in a sloppy egg and flour batter before they were fried up for eatin'.

Upon moving to Washington and marrying a self-proclaimed fungus freak, I have, again, taken up the joyful hobby of wandering somewhat aimlessly through the mossy old forests of this land in the Spring and Fall in search of tasty fungi and whatever else I happen upon. Yesterday, as I tiptoed across mossy fallen trees, which may very well be older than our country, I was halted by a tiny and territorial native Douglas squirrel.

He stared me down and sounded his high pitched alarm for almost five minutes.

I also saw tons of one of my very favorite native plants to this area, whose flowering also happens to be a great indicator that morels are popping up from the earth.

Western Trillium (Trillium ovatum)

Justin and I found a handful of morels. What a treat. As usual, I did not do the initial sighting--perhaps I was too busy playing with squirrels and whispering sweet nothings to all of the Trillium--but, to see the little mushrooms standing proudly in the moss was such a welcoming sign of Spring.

Embracing the tart!

Each year, I forget about all the little things that early Spring brings as a sort of peace offering after the long dark winter. I still get excited to see all of the nettles continuing to explode from moist forests and ditches and am quite giddy with the site of bright green asparagus shooting up from the earth, but oh, how the bright red stalks and Jurassic-size leaves of rhubarb stop me in footsteps and mental ramblings to give thanks for Spring.

Rhubarb's flavor is refreshingly tart and its presence is a constant reminder that its common companion, the strawberry is just around the corner (or just beneath the surface of the Earth).
So, below, are a few ways that I have introducing rhubarb madness to our household:

Easy, Delectable, Baked Rhubarb

3-5 stalk of rhubarb (sliced into chunks)
1 bosc pear (chunked)
1/2 c. of sugar (or 1/4 c. agave syrup)
1/2 c. water plus 1 TBS. apple cider vinegar
1 vanilla pod (split down the middle)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Add everything to casserole dish and stir.
2. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes, stirring halfway through.
3. Serve over yogurt or ice cream.

Strawberry-Rhubarb Slump
adapted from Local Vegetarian Cooking by Debra Daniels-Zeller

"What the heck is a slump?" one might ask.
I did.
A slump is a New England dessert in which fruit is simmered in a deep skillet with sweet biscuit dough dropped onto it like dumplings.
yum.

I am lucky enough to still have strawberries that we picked last summer--lucky, or out-of-control when it comes to opportunities to pick endless amounts of fresh berries and fill an already loaded and tiny freezer. Either way, its nice to put these strawberries to good use before fresh ones are ripe for the picking.
If you don't have access to strawberries yet, you can use straight rhubarb. Simply double the amount of sweetener.

Filling:
3-5 stalks of rhubarb chopped
2 c. of strawberries
1/3 c. of water
1/2 c. sugar
1 TBS. arrowroot powder (or cornstarch)

Dumplings:
1/3 c. milk
1 TBS. apple cider vinegar
1 c. of whole wheat flour
2 TBS. sugar
2 TBS. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
2 TBS. coconut oil or butter

1.Combine all of the filling ingredients in a heavy skillet and simmer for 5 minutes, while you prepare the dumplings.
2.Combine milk with vinegar and set aside. Combine all of the dry ingredients and, then, cut in the coconut oil until the mixture is like corn meal. Add milk and stir until a batter forms.
3. Drop heaping spoonfuls into the simmering liquid starting from the outer edge of the pan and working your way inward. Cover for 40 minutes and letter the mix simmer and cook the dumplings.
4. Serve with yogurt or ice cream!

Going Mobile

This weekend, Justin and I made a much needed journey to the big city (Seattle). We initially planned the trip because of a baby shower for our friends, Dana and Brian.

The shower was pretty sweet: so many loving friends and family in one place; food from some of Dana and Brian's favorite Seattle spots including Ezelle's Fried Chicken and Trophy Cupcakes; onesie decorating, and baby name games. I really can't believe that they will be giving birth to their creation in just 4 weeks, but they seem as prepared as any first-time parents can be. I have no doubt their child will be an amazing human.

Justin and I were inspired to make their baby a Pacific Northwest-themed mobile and I think it turned out quite nicely.







I like to make the absolute most of a trip into the city--sometimes to the point where we are exhausted by the time we return home; I like to think the whirlwind visits with some of our favorite people are rejuvenating for the spirit. So, after the baby shower, we saw a bluegrass show at the Tractor with some of our friends on Saturday night and gathered for a homemade brunch at our friends' sunny cabin on Lake Washington on Sunday morning. It was time well-spent and Justin and I were happy to return (rejuvenated spirit and all) to the simplicity that the North Olympic Peninsula offers.

A Spring Weekend

On Saturday, while I worked at Nash's, Justin set out on a mission for compost and meat. An odd combination, I know, but stay with me.

The compost, of course, is for our garden. Last spring, we were lucky enough to move into a home where the previous owner had spent all of her spare time in the yard. Raised beds were filled with light enough soil and flowers surprise-bloomed in new places throughout the entire summer. However, the vegetable garden was not super productive, so we knew the soil needed some love. We planted it with nitrogen-fixing vetch and rye during the winter and, on Saturday, Justin acquired a whole heap of compost from Lazy J Tree farm. Its dark, moist, and beautiful. By the time I arrived home on Saturday night, he had spread it on all of our beds. What a man!

Sunday morning, we took a brief jaunt to Hurricane Ridge to play in something white and fluffy.






Upon our return, we got to play in something brown and fluffy.

These spent a few days on the porch curing before going into the ground.

Snap peas are beginning to pop.

What future edibles does this little plot hold? So far, radishes, spinach, chard, onions, leeks, carrots, parsnips, beets, kale, calendula, and nasturtium!

Ah, but I mentioned justin's quest for meat too! You're too sharp to let me leave that hanging in the black hole of the interweb. Yes, he came home from the PA farmers market with bacon and the biggest chunk of beef that I've ever seen up close (okay, it was like 1.5 lbs). No, no we are not beginning to consume vast quantities of meat each day, nor have we become one of those vampires that is so common to this area...Instead, we were preparing for a feast--Julia Child style.

As a result of my recent reception of Mastering the Art of French Cooking from Justin and the shiny red enameled casserole dish so generously gifted by my lovely parents, I felt compelled to make Boeuf Bourguignon (beef stew).

The ingredients were so simple - butter, carrots, onions, mushrooms, herbs, wine, meat. The process was complex. Each ingredient was given a significant amount of time and attention in its preparation, because it would ultimately play a major role in the final flavor of the dish.

In total, I would say the dish took about 4 hours...and, with mason jar of wine in hand, I enjoyed every minute of the process. Every step felt like a little mediation or pause of appreciation for the journey that the "ingredient of focus" had taken to finally arrive on my kitchen counter. I must admit, I've never really been a fan of beef stew; I can't actually think of time that I've eaten it. But, truth be told, Boeuf Bourguignon was one of the best things I've tasted in a long time.

Julia, carrots, pearl onions, pig, cow, herbs and everyone else...thank you for the time and energy you put into making this dish a success! love, jill and justin

simple things.

Julia's advice: "don't crowd the mushrooms."

A moment of pause to appreciate the browning beef.

Its not the prettiest, but it has a great personality (in scent and taste).

savory pie!

Would you believe that cauliflower had it in her to overwinter and grow into gorgeous spring florets? She did. Paul, a co-worker at Nash's, inspired me celebrate such a feat with Cauliflower Pie. The original recipe calls for lots and lots of cheese and no greens, so I took it upon myself add some fresh kale to crust and nettles, chard, and leeks to the filling. It was at hit in the yellow house. So, make additions according to your whims and enjoy!

Cauliflower Pie
adapted from Mollie Katzen's The New Moosewood Cookbook

Crust:
2 c. grated raw potatoes
1 grated parsnip
1 handful of chopped kale
1/2 tsp. salt
1 egg white
1 grated leek or onion

Filling:
1 TBS. of butter
1 c. of chopped leeks or onions
2 cloves of minced garlic
1/2 tsp. salt
2 c. chopped chard (or any available greens)
1 head of luscious cauliflower
1/4 tsp. thyme
black pepper
1 TBS. of stone ground mustard
1/2 - 1 c. grated cheddar
2 eggs (plus the remaining yolk)
1/4 cup of milk ( i used almond milk)

1. Preheat the over to 400 degrees and generously oil a pie pan. Seriously generous or the crispy potato crust with seriously stick.
2. Keeping them separate, grate the potatoes, cheese, leeks, and parsnip.
3. For the crust, toss the grated potatoes and parsnip in a colander with salt and let sit for 10 minutes. Then, squeeze out the excess water. Stir together potatoes, parsnip, leeks, kale, egg white, and salt. Pat it into your pie dish.
4. Bake the crust for 25 minutes. Then, brush it lightly with olive oil and bake for 10 more minutes. Remove and lower temp to 375 degrees.
5. While the crust bakes, melt butter in a skillet and saute leeks, garlic, herbs and spices until translucent. Then, add greens and cauliflower and saute until tender.
6. Spread the mustard over the bottom of the pie crust and sprinkle with half the cheese. Add the veggie mixture and sprinkles with the rest of the cheese.
7. Whisk together eggs (and yolk) and milk and pour it over the veggie mixture. Bake for 35-40 minutes. Enjoy!

What is this day all about?

This morning, I sat at my kitchen table before heading off to open up the ol' Nash Farmstore and sought a moment or two of my favorite indulgences: hot oats with lots of pecans, the New Yorker, and gazing out my big kitchen windows.

In the 15 minutes I sat there, the world outside raged in and out of peace. First, it was dark, ominous, quiet, and breezy. Then, the breeze turned into swirls and gusts of wind that carried big wet snowflakes down, up, and sideways. Just as suddenly, the sky was blue, the sun was bright and the wind was still whipping. What a beginning to the day. Energetic. Excitable. Unpredictable.

Days like these, even non-Midwesterners are talking about the weather. It affects each and every one of us, I believe. We feel energy in the wind and the constant change. But, I think the energy moves us in different ways.

For me, it makes me feel like creating something (no matter how big or small) and pondering the paths I have taken or am currently considering (not matter how big or small). How does a day like this move you?

While you consider such a question, I'm off to make a cauliflower pie and and to ponder.

spring traditions and new-ditions

Here are your waters and your watering place.
Drink and be whole again beyond confusion.
- Robert Frost

Its the little things.
Like finding a chocolate bar hidden in your underwear drawer Easter morning.

Like hearing that mom and Maple (my parent's dog) continued the tradition of successfully hunting all of the eggs that my dad - ahem, the Easter Bunny-- had hidden for them.

Liking calling my grandma to hear about how, each year, my grandpa finds new places to bury daffodil bulbs that burst with unexpected spring cheer. My dad does the same thing; now I know where that habit comes from.
"He just hates to see all the bulbs go to waste," Grandma explained.

Like the sunny drive to Port Townsend to have breakfast and to try out the town's Unitarian church service. The church service was quite special, it was held in a month-old chapel full of windows and beautiful artwork that had been designed and built solely by the hands of volunteering members. The sermon discussed a Robert Frost poem entitled, "Directive" --one that I'd never read before. We left with words to ponder and friendly faces to remember.

Like an afternoon of dying hard-boiled eggs and heading off to the forest to harvest more spring nettles and minor's lettuce only to return to find (or not find) that those eggs had been hidden around the house by my awesome partner, who had stayed behind to prepare a delicious lentil-nutloaf for our little impromptu Easter potluck.

Like a gathering of friends and new faces in the name of good food, community, and the newness of spring. I would be remiss not to mention some highlights of the potluck feast:

- Lentil Nutloaf
- Betty's Potato Salad
- Creme of Nettle Soup
- Corn Bread with honey butter
- Pineapple Souffle
- Quinoa and Kale Saute

So, Spring, I thank you for the sweetness that you bring; the opportunity to share old traditions and create new moments in this life of constant renewal...and for a reason to draw on eggs with crayons and dip them in brilliant colors.

Playing Tourist at Home

We had some guests again last weekend. Our friends, Meghan and Matt, came all the way from Minneapolis to play in the Olympics and to revisit the great city of Seattle. (Megs and I met in Seattle 5 years ago at EarthCorps. We spent more hours in coffee shops in that year than most people do in a lifetime; it was glorious).

Wouldn't you believe that the Midwesterners brought some Midwestern thunder and lightening with them? We took them for a hike along the Solduc River in the Olympic National Park, thunder boomed through the ancient trees as sleet, hail, snow, and rain kept fast company.

Few words can capture the essence of these sweet friends, so I will leave you with a few choice photos.

Justin assesses the need for trail improvements.

Fording the mighty river.

Cold, wet, and in good company.

Seattle trolls are famous.

Vegan, gluten-free, bliss at The Flying Apron.

Matt gets to experience one of our favorite pastimes at one of our favorite cafes.