Discovering butter's true calling...

The croissant!

Oh yes, the croissant. Take an average mound of dough and fold in a pound of butter...and keep folding. See the transformation of the average dough into pure bliss on the tongue. I've made them once before with my friends, Rose and Alex, and french accents and fake mustaches were an integral part of the process. However, going at it alone seemed a bit frightening. Silly girl, what can be frightening about butter?

Yes, this past week, I attempted to bake croissants. The process was long, because it requires letting the dough chill for an hour after each session of building the flaky layers by rolling it out and folding it up. Then, the completed dough needs to rest for 8-18 hours before being transformed--i know the feeling.

I found the unrushed necessity of the process almost meditative: rolling, measuring, folding, chilling, rolling, measuring, folding, chilling....each step with intention.

I used Nash's soft white wheat for these croissants and although they weren't quite as light and fluffy as their traditional namesake, there were no complaints on flavor. We ended up with three types: plain butter croissant, pain au chocolat, and a savory caramelized onion, shiitake, asparagus and goat cheese. The savory was my clear favorite, but Justin is and always will be a devoted fan to pain au chocolat.
The process wasn't scary because I remembered the words of ms. julia, "A good cook can't be afraid to make mistakes."

Spring Panzanella - aka another way to enjoy bread

I don't know about you, but I've really never met a loaf of bread that I didn't like. Okay, that's not entirely true. I was raised on whole wheat bread, so I never really got into the fluffy white stuff. Although, I love challah-- a light, fluffy, slightly sweet egg bread. That is beside the point. The point is: bread is awesome and I'm always looking for new ways to enjoy it.

Meet bread salad, otherwise known as panzanella. Yum.

Now, add lovely spring vegetables like asparagus, leeks, and cabbage raab (aka the flowering part of the overwintered cabbage plant).

Cabbage raab.

Meet a filling, yet Springy, salad that can serve as a meal.

Spring Bread Salad
adapted from smitten kitchen

For Croutons:
1/4 c. olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced
6 cups of stale bread
1/2 c. grated cheddar
salt and pepper to taste

For Dressing:
1/2 onion, diced
2 TBS. apple cider vinegar
Juice from 1/2 lemon
1/4 c. olive oil
1 tsp. spicy mustard

For salad:
3 large leeks
2 tsp salt
1 lb. of asparagus
1 bunch of cabbage raab (or tender red russian kale)
1 tomato, chopped
1 can of garbanzo beans

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix crouton ingredients in a bowl and mix with your hands--because it feels so nice. Transfer to a baking sheet and bake for 10-15 minutes, stirring once. They should be crisp and light on the outside and still soft on the inside. Set aside.
2. For the dressing, mix the onion, vinegar, and lemon juice and set aside for a few minutes. Mix in the remaining dressing ingredients and set aside.
3. Cut off the root ends and top few inches of the leeks. Halve them lengthwise within an inch of the bottom. Cover them with cold water in a 12-in skillet, salt, and simmer uncovered until tender.
4. Without draining the cooking water, remove leeks from skillet and pat them dry. Add asparagus to the skillet of simmering water and cooking until they're bright green. Remove and pat dry.
5. Cut the leeks and asparagus into 1-in. pieces. Chop the cabbage raab into 1-in pieces too.
6. Toss everything: croutons, veggies, beans, and dressing in a big bowl and toss well. Season with salt and pepper.

Spring In Port Angeles, WA

A few weeks ago, Justin and I were perusing the classified ads at our local coffee shop on a lazy Monday morning (we're both off on Mondays- don't be jealous). We saw an ad for a used canoe, which we've been talking about wanting for a while now. There are so many gorgeous bodies of water surrounding us, its a shame not to be able to explore them.

Well, we bought the canoe! However, its been crazy windy here for the last week or so, and we had been unable to take the ol' Weh-no-nah on her maiden voyage. On Sunday, we did.
We went to Lake Aldwell, which is a lake formed by one of the dams on the Elwha River. Well, this is "the last dam summer" around here, because the two Elwha dams will be removed starting in 2011. As the dams come out, Lake Aldwell and Lake Mills will certainly change into entirely new bodies of water.

We are quite excited to see how the biggest dam removal project in US history will effect the Elwha River Watershed and all of the plants, wildlife, and people that exist in or around it. In fact, I am lucky to get to be a part of the dam removal project. This summer, I will be working on the revegetation crew that is responsible for collecting and propagating all of the native plants that will be used in the restoration efforts that follow the removal of the dams.

Anyway, it was a beautiful day for our maiden voyage. We ended the day with a Pacific Northwest-style BBQ. We had Spring Chinook Salmon, fresh asparagus, and rhubarb cobbler.

Spring Chinook are unique because Chinook or King Salmon (Oncorhyncgus tshawtscha) generally return from the ocean in the late summer to spawn. Once salmon return from the ocean to freshwater, they stop eating, head up stream, spawn, and die. The whole process takes a lot of energy. Spring Chinook return months early and hang out until the rest of the Chinook arrive. In order to make it that long they do a lot of fattening up when they're in the ocean. That translates to super oily, tasty and nutritious food for us.
Thank you for your nourishment, Chinook!
Thank you for the treats, Port Angeles Farmer's Market.

yum.

Fits on the 'Yota just right--and looks so cool.

Yep, I see the snow capped mountains. No, I don't see the alligator.

Justin's PFD, appropriately named The Chinook, didn't arrive in the mail yet. He's still a winner in the bright orange one.

The Vigor of Life

My lovely friend, Erin, made lots of gorgeous garlic braids last fall. If you look closely at the one she gave to us, you'll see a single clove that has recognized the return of spring from inside our kitchen. Grow, garlic, grow!

A different kind of find...

Vanilla Leaf (Achlys triphylla)

On Sunday, Justin and I went on another hunt for the, often elusive, Morel (Morchella spp.). The afternoon was not very "fruitful" in the fungi finding, but we did get to tromp along the ancient glacial waters of the Elwha River and among some youthful and ancient greenery. I tried to count the different shades of green, but there were too many. A lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon, albeit moist.

On the way home, we filled up our growler with a tasty porter from Harbinger Winery to go with our infrequent and much enjoyed burger night. The meal was yet another reminder of what bounty the North Olympic Peninsula community has to offer. Yum.

Salal (Gaultheria shallon) and Vanilla Leaf (Achlys triphylla)

The rare and elusive Justin spp. listens to the wisdom of an ancient cedar (Thuja plicata).

A fine local feast, compliments of: Clark Farms, Harbinger Winery, Pane D' Amore, Lazy J Farm, Nash's Organic Produce, and Johnston Farms.

Feline friends, finally.

Did someone say pancakes?

Okay, I've been writing WAY too long to not have mentioned my love for pancakes. Pancakes are probably one of my top 3 favorite meals--not just breakfast options, but meals. They are versatile (sweet or savory); can be smeared with delightful things; can be frozen or saved for later snacking (pancake peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich anyone?); and they include cake in their name. The end.

Since beginning to work at Nash's Organic Produce, I have had access to local wheat, rye, and triticale. Justin and I purchased a Vitamix with grain-grinding capacities around that time and haven't purchased flour since. Home-ground grain multiplies my passion for pancakes and makes me want to spread the pancake love.

Our tried and true pancake recipe takes a little forethought because the flour needs to soak in yogurt overnight, but the resulting light and slightly sour cakes won't disappoint.

Whole Grain Pancakes
adapted from Sally Fallon's Nourishing Traditions

makes 10-15 cakes

2 cups of whole grain flour
1 cup of plain yogurt
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
a dash of cinnamon
2 TBS melted butter or coconut oil
optional: 2 TBS ground flax seed, chopped nuts, or berries

1. Lightly stir flour and yogurt together, cover with a towel, and let it soak overnight.
2. In the morning, add all of the remaining ingredients and stir.
3. Add enough water to get batter to your desired consistency--the batter should be a bit lumpy, so don't overmix.
4. Cook in an oiled cast iron skillet over medium to medium high heat. (These cakes take a bit longer to cook all the way through, so use a lower heat than normal).
5. Enjoy with maple syrup, nut butter, a dollop of yogurt, or whatever suits your fancy.

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.