Back to St. Louis, and all's well....finally. Much ado about the car, however. Thankfully this was not outside of His plan: there are far worse places than Denver in which we could have been stuck.
All have been so generous and hospitable to us: we were in 13 different places over the 9 weeks we were absent. We were thrilled with the west: Montana, Wyoming and Colorado had mountains, hot springs, lakes, and canyons enough to delight us all....but we are so delighted to get home and back in our own space to get dirty or clean as we like ;) My girls are thrilled. As for me, it's back to the garden I go, and there is a ton of pruning to do, as is to be expected. I am enjoying cucumbers, zucchini, basil, rosemary, and onions. Tomatoes are on their way!
Dinner tonight was a lovely combination of grass-fed beef (sirloin) donated by good friends, roasted potatoes (another friend's contribution) with rosemary, zucchini with basil, and red wine (another gift). We have some special friends and family, what a delight to return home!
July 31, 2009
June 02, 2009
Montana
We'll, here we are plugging away at Field Ed. hours, and a lovely place to do it. We're in Helena, and doing an internship with some of the most lovely people I know. Here's a list of things into which I'd like to plug while I'm here:
Story time at the library (Wed. & Thurs., 10:30 am)
Free children's picnic at the park (Mon.-Fri., 12-1)
Live at Five (Wed., 5pm)
Farmer's Market (Saturdays)
Library hosted Book Club, June 25 & July 2
I need to:
Borrow a stroller; walk into town; check out the grocery stores; check out the parks....do some praying.
Story time at the library (Wed. & Thurs., 10:30 am)
Free children's picnic at the park (Mon.-Fri., 12-1)
Live at Five (Wed., 5pm)
Farmer's Market (Saturdays)
Library hosted Book Club, June 25 & July 2
I need to:
Borrow a stroller; walk into town; check out the grocery stores; check out the parks....do some praying.
May 13, 2009
Garden-inspired eats
Tonight was quick-Asian at our house: a standby throughout the semester, but particularly fitted to finals week, as studies make everything else have to squeak its way in edge-wise.
Here is the Asian noodle "salad" I whipped up this evening, based off of a knowledge that I had only very un-Asian, angel hair pasta (decidedly Italian) and it needed to be worked in a different direction. Our community garden provided the inspiration for what happened next.
1lb cooked angel hair
2-3 tbls cilantro
1/4 cup chives
4 borage leaves (borage, for those who aren't familiar, is a cucumber flavored leaf...slightly "fuzzy" in texture, but delicious, and not a texture problem when minced)
3 tbls sherry vinegar (can substitute rice/rice wine vinegar or white wine vinegar)
4 tbls toasted seasame oil (or to taste, as this can be strong)
1 tsp salt
1-2 tsps sugar
Mince all herbs. Once noodles have cooked, you have the option of running under cold water to make it a cool salad, or (as we did tonight) prepare it with still-hot noodles. Put noodles into a bowl, pour all of the ingredients over and mix well. It was lovely and refreshing, and I hope to have it tomorrow (cold) for lunch. It served as a beautiful alternative to rice under our veggies and tofu...light, quick, brain food (plus, Chip can eat the leftovers when he inevitably develops an appetite over his studies later tonight).
Here is the Asian noodle "salad" I whipped up this evening, based off of a knowledge that I had only very un-Asian, angel hair pasta (decidedly Italian) and it needed to be worked in a different direction. Our community garden provided the inspiration for what happened next.
1lb cooked angel hair
2-3 tbls cilantro
1/4 cup chives
4 borage leaves (borage, for those who aren't familiar, is a cucumber flavored leaf...slightly "fuzzy" in texture, but delicious, and not a texture problem when minced)
3 tbls sherry vinegar (can substitute rice/rice wine vinegar or white wine vinegar)
4 tbls toasted seasame oil (or to taste, as this can be strong)
1 tsp salt
1-2 tsps sugar
Mince all herbs. Once noodles have cooked, you have the option of running under cold water to make it a cool salad, or (as we did tonight) prepare it with still-hot noodles. Put noodles into a bowl, pour all of the ingredients over and mix well. It was lovely and refreshing, and I hope to have it tomorrow (cold) for lunch. It served as a beautiful alternative to rice under our veggies and tofu...light, quick, brain food (plus, Chip can eat the leftovers when he inevitably develops an appetite over his studies later tonight).
April 21, 2009
little witticisms
I've been teaching the girls the Lord's prayer...
...here is how it turned out in 4-year-old language tonight:
Our father who lives in heaven, hallowed be your name
your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven
give us this day our daily bread and forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors
and lead us not into ten-tissues but deliver us our email...
She didn't continue after I stifled a laugh--I think she could see my grin in the dark.
...here is how it turned out in 4-year-old language tonight:
Our father who lives in heaven, hallowed be your name
your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven
give us this day our daily bread and forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors
and lead us not into ten-tissues but deliver us our email...
She didn't continue after I stifled a laugh--I think she could see my grin in the dark.
April 11, 2009
thoughts on femininity and community
The Lord has been instilling in me a renewed vision of femininity. I would like to share some of the particulars that have struck me in the last few years: how my view of who I am as a woman in Christ has grown by his grace, and how that can and should affect the community in which I live.
I struggle not to be defined by misguided notions of femininity held by secular and sacred factions alike. Sadly, the secular feminist movement, moving far away from who we are in Christ, focused on proving that women are of equal worth to men. When we do away with God and with our unequivocal equality in Christ, we find we have to work to build our own reputations. Ironically, religious perversions of “biblical” femininity have this same performance mentality at their root, requiring of us that which should naturally flow out of our relationship with Christ and renewal by his Spirit. We have lost our understanding of our inherent value in our desire to prove that value. All too often this manifests in a struggle with submitting to our design, looking for something bigger and better to achieve, and bucking any authority that stands in our way. By God's grace, however, I am beginning to look at his desires for womanhood from a better perspective. As his daughter, an heir to his kingdom, I am under His good authority--the authority of the Author who has written my role and knows me better than I know myself.
This renews my understanding of scriptures like Proverbs 31. I once rebelled against it, perceiving it as a strangling list of expectations and rules. In order to be “a good Christian woman”, I had to execute the actions described--and all in my own strength. Through a deeper understanding of the gospel and the power of the Spirit to equip me to do “every good work”, I respond differently. What a rich proverb it has become in my mind, full of vibrant descriptions! Instead of being clothed with business and troubled by the list of things to do, she clothes herself with “strength and dignity” and “can laugh at the days to come.” But her concern is first for her family and her household (for whom she provides food and scarlet clothing), and she nurtures them in a way that receives renown in the city. This woman lives a life of industry, yet joy; and she receives great praise for it.
I think what we see in the wife of noble character is a woman who has found her calling and delights to follow it. We observe no mandates in this passage of how she must perform and what she must accomplish. Her work flows out of the fact that she has been loved. This woman is a wife, which means someone has set his love upon her. Her response is an outpouring of love and compassion towards others: her family, her servants, and ultimately her community as “she opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy.”
I recently had my eyes opened to the way we handle the needy of the world--so unlike the wife in Proverbs. The impetus for this new understanding came with our impending move to seminary. We were clearing out the unwanted stuff that inevitably collects in one's home. In our trips to Goodwill and the Salvation Army, the nature of our fractured society was once again displayed. At these ministries, we can drive up, drop off our “donations” to a kind person who smells tolerable and smiles. We are removed from the “untouchables” who make us uncomfortable. Another way we have distanced ourselves from the reality of people comes in the form of grocery shopping. I want to assure you that I am neither criticizing the charitable organizations mentioned above, nor am I bashing the grocery industry. Rather I am trying to reconnect us once again to our communities. We forget that farmers produce our fruits and vegetables. These are people who work hard, and frequently reap far less than what they sow. They are dependent upon the land, and are often driven to the end of themselves by it. But, however dependent we are upon them for our daily bread, we have distanced ourselves from them and continued to fracture community instead of building it (as is our cultural mandate).
Unfortunately, in the United States, much of the time we naturally isolate ourselves, and not only from the “untouchables” of society. Community, even of like-minded people, is risky in and of itself. Tension and conflict are just under the surface of our interactions due to our fallen nature. As long as we do not feel uncomfortable or challenged in our way of doing things, we'll be fine. We willingly sacrifice true community, true intimacy to our idols of comfort or control. Or we bury ourselves once more in those seductive duties and roles to excuse our distance and indifference. I have things to do around my own house that keep me from pursuing others: my children and husband to care for, groceries to buy, meals to plan, laundry to fold, dishes to wash, etc. Gradually I become a machine operating on automatic to complete my list of duties. As I do, do, do, and lose my sense of who I am in the sight of God, I also lose touch with those around me, and begin to live my life disconnected from fellowship, a vital means of experiencing God’s grace. I also fail to show compassion those who are truly in great need, and this convicts me deeply.
Another of the meaningful images to me in the Proverbs 31 passage relates to that of the garden. “She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.” My husband and I had the opportunity to plan our first garden together. We considered it over the winter, and began to prepare a compost pile, a framed bed, the plants we hoped to grow. I researched, gobbling up every scrap of instruction on composting, raised-bed gardening, organic gardening, and planting that I could find. I read a book that I found incredibly inspiring (see Confession of a Suburban Homesteader) by a woman (steeped in feminist philosophies) who had attempted to feed her family from what she grew, with little supplementation. In her book, she also discussed the planning and planting of a community garden, and from the start I was floored by the idea. A piece of me began to warm to, and be inspired by, the beauty of her expression of herself. I began to look around my neighborhood and saw for the first time how much land was available. I began to recognize more and more how little we do to cultivate it, and at the same time how little we do to cultivate community beyond our immediate neighbors and those we meet at the park with children in our children's peer group. We regard land and relationship in the same light: for recreation, and entertainment purposes alone. For the Christian called to be in the world and show His light, we must have a different view of God's world. Something in me (i.e. our shared trait of being image-bearers) was like this woman who was passionate about taking care of the environment. I wanted to sink my fingers into the soil, shoulder to shoulder with other women--cultivating and being a good steward of both land and community at once.
So what does this mean for us? I believe we must recognize the boundless love the Lord has for each of us. I submit that this has both individual and corporate application: first, as individuals, we have unique design that we must discern and from which we must act. I would like to assert that we women have a particular call to nurture and cultivate relationships. This leads to the second application: we must cultivate community, encouraging and building one another up, reflecting His love into others’ lives, Christian and unbeliever alike.
I want to be a real woman; real as is defined by the God who designed me. I want to hold fast to the knowledge that I am a daughter--a loved and chosen one. He has created and crafted me with a beauty and unique femininity. He has bestowed me with gifts so that I might use them to bring glory to him and minister to others. I want to be in real relationships, not those that merely add to my comfort or my resume. As a woman, I picture particularly a community of women encouraging each other in their duties as well as in their creative outlets. I want the gaps to be bridged, both between my concept of self and the Lord's vision for me and others, that I might more accurately reflect the God I serve....for I want to be like him.
I struggle not to be defined by misguided notions of femininity held by secular and sacred factions alike. Sadly, the secular feminist movement, moving far away from who we are in Christ, focused on proving that women are of equal worth to men. When we do away with God and with our unequivocal equality in Christ, we find we have to work to build our own reputations. Ironically, religious perversions of “biblical” femininity have this same performance mentality at their root, requiring of us that which should naturally flow out of our relationship with Christ and renewal by his Spirit. We have lost our understanding of our inherent value in our desire to prove that value. All too often this manifests in a struggle with submitting to our design, looking for something bigger and better to achieve, and bucking any authority that stands in our way. By God's grace, however, I am beginning to look at his desires for womanhood from a better perspective. As his daughter, an heir to his kingdom, I am under His good authority--the authority of the Author who has written my role and knows me better than I know myself.
This renews my understanding of scriptures like Proverbs 31. I once rebelled against it, perceiving it as a strangling list of expectations and rules. In order to be “a good Christian woman”, I had to execute the actions described--and all in my own strength. Through a deeper understanding of the gospel and the power of the Spirit to equip me to do “every good work”, I respond differently. What a rich proverb it has become in my mind, full of vibrant descriptions! Instead of being clothed with business and troubled by the list of things to do, she clothes herself with “strength and dignity” and “can laugh at the days to come.” But her concern is first for her family and her household (for whom she provides food and scarlet clothing), and she nurtures them in a way that receives renown in the city. This woman lives a life of industry, yet joy; and she receives great praise for it.
I think what we see in the wife of noble character is a woman who has found her calling and delights to follow it. We observe no mandates in this passage of how she must perform and what she must accomplish. Her work flows out of the fact that she has been loved. This woman is a wife, which means someone has set his love upon her. Her response is an outpouring of love and compassion towards others: her family, her servants, and ultimately her community as “she opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy.”
I recently had my eyes opened to the way we handle the needy of the world--so unlike the wife in Proverbs. The impetus for this new understanding came with our impending move to seminary. We were clearing out the unwanted stuff that inevitably collects in one's home. In our trips to Goodwill and the Salvation Army, the nature of our fractured society was once again displayed. At these ministries, we can drive up, drop off our “donations” to a kind person who smells tolerable and smiles. We are removed from the “untouchables” who make us uncomfortable. Another way we have distanced ourselves from the reality of people comes in the form of grocery shopping. I want to assure you that I am neither criticizing the charitable organizations mentioned above, nor am I bashing the grocery industry. Rather I am trying to reconnect us once again to our communities. We forget that farmers produce our fruits and vegetables. These are people who work hard, and frequently reap far less than what they sow. They are dependent upon the land, and are often driven to the end of themselves by it. But, however dependent we are upon them for our daily bread, we have distanced ourselves from them and continued to fracture community instead of building it (as is our cultural mandate).
Unfortunately, in the United States, much of the time we naturally isolate ourselves, and not only from the “untouchables” of society. Community, even of like-minded people, is risky in and of itself. Tension and conflict are just under the surface of our interactions due to our fallen nature. As long as we do not feel uncomfortable or challenged in our way of doing things, we'll be fine. We willingly sacrifice true community, true intimacy to our idols of comfort or control. Or we bury ourselves once more in those seductive duties and roles to excuse our distance and indifference. I have things to do around my own house that keep me from pursuing others: my children and husband to care for, groceries to buy, meals to plan, laundry to fold, dishes to wash, etc. Gradually I become a machine operating on automatic to complete my list of duties. As I do, do, do, and lose my sense of who I am in the sight of God, I also lose touch with those around me, and begin to live my life disconnected from fellowship, a vital means of experiencing God’s grace. I also fail to show compassion those who are truly in great need, and this convicts me deeply.
Another of the meaningful images to me in the Proverbs 31 passage relates to that of the garden. “She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.” My husband and I had the opportunity to plan our first garden together. We considered it over the winter, and began to prepare a compost pile, a framed bed, the plants we hoped to grow. I researched, gobbling up every scrap of instruction on composting, raised-bed gardening, organic gardening, and planting that I could find. I read a book that I found incredibly inspiring (see Confession of a Suburban Homesteader) by a woman (steeped in feminist philosophies) who had attempted to feed her family from what she grew, with little supplementation. In her book, she also discussed the planning and planting of a community garden, and from the start I was floored by the idea. A piece of me began to warm to, and be inspired by, the beauty of her expression of herself. I began to look around my neighborhood and saw for the first time how much land was available. I began to recognize more and more how little we do to cultivate it, and at the same time how little we do to cultivate community beyond our immediate neighbors and those we meet at the park with children in our children's peer group. We regard land and relationship in the same light: for recreation, and entertainment purposes alone. For the Christian called to be in the world and show His light, we must have a different view of God's world. Something in me (i.e. our shared trait of being image-bearers) was like this woman who was passionate about taking care of the environment. I wanted to sink my fingers into the soil, shoulder to shoulder with other women--cultivating and being a good steward of both land and community at once.
So what does this mean for us? I believe we must recognize the boundless love the Lord has for each of us. I submit that this has both individual and corporate application: first, as individuals, we have unique design that we must discern and from which we must act. I would like to assert that we women have a particular call to nurture and cultivate relationships. This leads to the second application: we must cultivate community, encouraging and building one another up, reflecting His love into others’ lives, Christian and unbeliever alike.
I want to be a real woman; real as is defined by the God who designed me. I want to hold fast to the knowledge that I am a daughter--a loved and chosen one. He has created and crafted me with a beauty and unique femininity. He has bestowed me with gifts so that I might use them to bring glory to him and minister to others. I want to be in real relationships, not those that merely add to my comfort or my resume. As a woman, I picture particularly a community of women encouraging each other in their duties as well as in their creative outlets. I want the gaps to be bridged, both between my concept of self and the Lord's vision for me and others, that I might more accurately reflect the God I serve....for I want to be like him.
March 30, 2009
I just don't know
I find it difficult to dream these days. I wrestle to regain the hope and clarity I had as a child, and perhaps more importantly, the imagination. Sometimes I feel my spirit stir within me--perhaps a passing thought has provoked the sleeping something inside--but I squelch it quickly, afraid to get too caught up in desire, expectation, and passion. Yeah, it's difficult, sometimes, to dream.
What I really want is to dream correctly. I want to be assured that I will receive the object of my hopes and desires by having a righteous, a godly dream. Little do I realize that no matter how "righteous" the dream, I will reap suffering. My psychology still hinges on the thought that all things in life should be fair, and that justice should have the last word...
Why do I crave justice? Why do I crave justice? Why do I crave justice?
I still don't understand; and so I wrestle--wrestle to have dreams that will surely die and be replaced by new and better dreams...that might also die...and yet to cling to hope, and not be cynical, and not be fatalistic.
Oh Lord, help.
What I really want is to dream correctly. I want to be assured that I will receive the object of my hopes and desires by having a righteous, a godly dream. Little do I realize that no matter how "righteous" the dream, I will reap suffering. My psychology still hinges on the thought that all things in life should be fair, and that justice should have the last word...
Why do I crave justice? Why do I crave justice? Why do I crave justice?
I still don't understand; and so I wrestle--wrestle to have dreams that will surely die and be replaced by new and better dreams...that might also die...and yet to cling to hope, and not be cynical, and not be fatalistic.
Oh Lord, help.
March 03, 2009
Chicken Soup & Brown Bread
I've discovered that one of my favorite things in the world is a good soup. This surprises me about myself. I've heard this type of satisfied response coming from my mother's lips, but I never thought I would be the one to say it. Partly this is because I was always kind of ho-hum about soup when I was younger. I mean, broth, meat, vegetables--all in one dish, nothing exciting, right? And what could be "plainer" than brown bread (though I ate it with relish as I did any meal she set before me, it was not something I found deep contentment from having consumed, and often felt hungry only a couple hours after...perhaps the consequence of a fast metabolism, perhaps something more).
I had no idea. I didn't slow down long enough to practice and master the art of baking (though mom said if I would only have patience and give it time, I could be a baker just like her). I didn't understand the value of concocting a brew, filling the pot, and as one children's author has put it "stirring away a bad day" (look up the title "Mean Soup" if you ever have the opportunity). Not that every day is bad--not that I need to stir it away exactly; rather, the slow nature of soup-making sets such a perfect rhythm. Merely the making of the chicken soup will do wonders for body and soul.
Mom has recently been thinking and writing a ton about what it truly means to be satisfied (in life, by food, etc.). It has been good to read her thoughts and consider them and how that applies in my own life. Part of what came out of this you see below in my "Rest or Toil" article....I have been learning to slow down and take my time about things--really connecting with deep rest. (Better words come out when my mind and heart have sifted them and mulled over them for a time instead of rushing them to the page). Another part of the result has been that in slowing down, I have finally achieved at least a dozen beautiful loaves of bread, both brown and white--not to mention my happy-children pizza crust (I'm naming it that because my daughters are ALWAYS delighted at the prospect of home-made pizza).
It makes me cry to think of the time I have spent in anxiety and frustration and feeling that I was just not cut out to be a baker--the lies I believed about myself and what I could and couldn't do. These lies came unraveled with a bit of rest, some time for contemplation, and a bit of steeping myself in the habits a baker needs to have in order to turn out wonderful, comforting, warm bread. I was able to bring these habits inside of myself, and wrap my head and heart around the actions until they became second nature. They just "happened" to coincide with a time in my life of internalizing the habits of contemplating Christ, steeping in his word and having integrity in my prayer (i.e. praying what my heart was wrestling with instead of what I thought I was supposed to pray). It is wonderful, comforting, warming to my soul....
But now for some practical application:
I make my soups (risottos, etc.) from homemade stock. I am not a "purist" when it comes to stock. In fact, I'm much more efficiency-minded since we are on a seminary budget. I tend to stockpile veggie parings in a ziplock bag in the freezer until I'm ready to make stock. These are things such as carrot, celery, and onion ends and peels, aging garlic (not too old, it tastes funky), parsley, rosemary & thyme stems/leftovers....and, of course, chicken bones & backs (or beef or lamb or shellfish shells, depending on the type of stock I'm making). I make chicken stock on a bi-weekly basis, minimum. We don't eat chicken more than twice a week, but even the bones leftover from one roast chicken are enough to make 3 quarts of flavorful stock! Here's my method:
Throw chicken bones (and backs, if you have some set aside from piecing a whole chicken) into your largest pot (in my home, this is my pasta pot). Next throw 3-4 handfuls of your veggie parings, including herb & leftovers mentioned above (should be at least 3 cloves of garlic) and a few black peppercorns, and fill the pot up with water (at least 2-3 quarts of water). Bring to a boil. Once it has boiled about 5-10 minutes, skim any foam off of the top, discarding it. Turn the stock down to a simmer, cooking at about a med-lo for a further hour. When the hour is up, turn it off, allow to cool until you can easily handle the pot. Strain out all the solids and toss (they are now flavorless). Voila: you have a flavorful, nutritional, comforting broth ready to be the base for your next comfort-potion.
My soup tonight? Well, let's just put it this way: Chip said he was looking for pieces of faucet (i.e. he felt like I even put the kitchen sink in there) as he ate.
Ingredients included:
celery
garlic
red onion
carrot
thyme
spinach
chicken sausage (with fontina and garlic)
tomatoes
olive oil
salt and fresh-ground black pepper
mushrooms
"o" shaped noodles
parsley & pecorino romano (for finishing--not cooked into it)
As for the bread, I'll have to attack that one another day. Suffice it to say that I finally understood my mother's satisfaction: she had crafted the soup (and bread) from its beginning to its end. She had smelled it, stirred it, gotten her hands into it nearly to the elbow, shaped it, coaxed it into its final form.
And THEN she got to eat it TOO!
(hmmm--now I see the Little Red Hen story from a whole new perspective).
I had no idea. I didn't slow down long enough to practice and master the art of baking (though mom said if I would only have patience and give it time, I could be a baker just like her). I didn't understand the value of concocting a brew, filling the pot, and as one children's author has put it "stirring away a bad day" (look up the title "Mean Soup" if you ever have the opportunity). Not that every day is bad--not that I need to stir it away exactly; rather, the slow nature of soup-making sets such a perfect rhythm. Merely the making of the chicken soup will do wonders for body and soul.
Mom has recently been thinking and writing a ton about what it truly means to be satisfied (in life, by food, etc.). It has been good to read her thoughts and consider them and how that applies in my own life. Part of what came out of this you see below in my "Rest or Toil" article....I have been learning to slow down and take my time about things--really connecting with deep rest. (Better words come out when my mind and heart have sifted them and mulled over them for a time instead of rushing them to the page). Another part of the result has been that in slowing down, I have finally achieved at least a dozen beautiful loaves of bread, both brown and white--not to mention my happy-children pizza crust (I'm naming it that because my daughters are ALWAYS delighted at the prospect of home-made pizza).
It makes me cry to think of the time I have spent in anxiety and frustration and feeling that I was just not cut out to be a baker--the lies I believed about myself and what I could and couldn't do. These lies came unraveled with a bit of rest, some time for contemplation, and a bit of steeping myself in the habits a baker needs to have in order to turn out wonderful, comforting, warm bread. I was able to bring these habits inside of myself, and wrap my head and heart around the actions until they became second nature. They just "happened" to coincide with a time in my life of internalizing the habits of contemplating Christ, steeping in his word and having integrity in my prayer (i.e. praying what my heart was wrestling with instead of what I thought I was supposed to pray). It is wonderful, comforting, warming to my soul....
But now for some practical application:
I make my soups (risottos, etc.) from homemade stock. I am not a "purist" when it comes to stock. In fact, I'm much more efficiency-minded since we are on a seminary budget. I tend to stockpile veggie parings in a ziplock bag in the freezer until I'm ready to make stock. These are things such as carrot, celery, and onion ends and peels, aging garlic (not too old, it tastes funky), parsley, rosemary & thyme stems/leftovers....and, of course, chicken bones & backs (or beef or lamb or shellfish shells, depending on the type of stock I'm making). I make chicken stock on a bi-weekly basis, minimum. We don't eat chicken more than twice a week, but even the bones leftover from one roast chicken are enough to make 3 quarts of flavorful stock! Here's my method:
Throw chicken bones (and backs, if you have some set aside from piecing a whole chicken) into your largest pot (in my home, this is my pasta pot). Next throw 3-4 handfuls of your veggie parings, including herb & leftovers mentioned above (should be at least 3 cloves of garlic) and a few black peppercorns, and fill the pot up with water (at least 2-3 quarts of water). Bring to a boil. Once it has boiled about 5-10 minutes, skim any foam off of the top, discarding it. Turn the stock down to a simmer, cooking at about a med-lo for a further hour. When the hour is up, turn it off, allow to cool until you can easily handle the pot. Strain out all the solids and toss (they are now flavorless). Voila: you have a flavorful, nutritional, comforting broth ready to be the base for your next comfort-potion.
My soup tonight? Well, let's just put it this way: Chip said he was looking for pieces of faucet (i.e. he felt like I even put the kitchen sink in there) as he ate.
Ingredients included:
celery
garlic
red onion
carrot
thyme
spinach
chicken sausage (with fontina and garlic)
tomatoes
olive oil
salt and fresh-ground black pepper
mushrooms
"o" shaped noodles
parsley & pecorino romano (for finishing--not cooked into it)
As for the bread, I'll have to attack that one another day. Suffice it to say that I finally understood my mother's satisfaction: she had crafted the soup (and bread) from its beginning to its end. She had smelled it, stirred it, gotten her hands into it nearly to the elbow, shaped it, coaxed it into its final form.
And THEN she got to eat it TOO!
(hmmm--now I see the Little Red Hen story from a whole new perspective).
March 02, 2009
The Bankruptcy of Busy-ness
The “busy” of life has had its grip on me for nearly two decades. Like Wayne Muller, “I have visited the large offices of wealthy donors, the crowded rooms of social service agencies, and the small houses of the poorest families. Remarkably, within this mosaic there is a universal refrain: I am so busy. It does not seem to matter if the people I speak with are doctors or day-care workers, shopkeepers or social workers, parents or teachers, nurses or lawyers, students or therapists, community activists or cooks...As their work all piles endlessly upon itself, the whole experience of being alive begins to melt into one enormous obligation. It becomes the standard greeting everywhere: I am so busy.” Probably you could echo his quoted observations from your own experiences. Certainly this standard greeting has escaped your own lips often.
Perhaps your story looks like mine: in leaving childhood to begin secondary school, duties increased, studies got longer, sleep hours grew shorter, and the idea of actually sitting down to quietly think or read or pray floated ever more distant into the recesses of my mind. Much quicker to retreat from me: the concept of play and joyful abandon. Now, with two young children and a seminary-eclipsed husband, I hurry about the house or campus, cleaning, cooking, working--buzzing with something at all times. Unable to stop or sit down or enter into the happy activities of my daughters (in spite of their sweet invitations and imploring tones), I define rest as something I must achieve. Devotions become another item on my checklist. (True) worship evaporates entirely. I can not stop until I am “done”.
I have been thinking of rest versus toil for weeks. Turning again and again to biblical poetry to satisfy my soul’s thirst for authenticity, I have found refreshing integrity in the authors’ descriptions of their struggle to know God and to understand his world. In Ecclesiastes, for example, Solomon reflects and repeats the rhythms of life, reminding us that everything has its season. If you are like me, you find yourself singing the Byrds’ tune to this “To everything, turn, turn, turn...”(see Ecclesiastes 3:1-8), and what a grace that popular music would be for us a way to remember the rhythm. God’s word teaches us how to dance through the experiences of life, whether joyous or pain-filled, instead of running, frenetic, “like chickens with our heads chopped off”.
Later on in the book, Solomon states: “Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind.” (Ecclesiastes 4:6). I was stunned by the vision that this verse conjured in my mind. I saw a man clinging to that which he has found in Christ with all of his might. I saw that he had only one hand-hold, one strong hand gripping the precious treasure of peace and rest, and it was enough to transform him. His countenance reflected the calm within, his cheeks flushed, eyes shining and expectant, his other strong arm ready to go about his Father’s business. I saw by contrast the dazed look of a man numbed by his toil and struggle: his eyes glazed-over, framed in fatigue’s black circles. In his pale face, with lined brow and sunken cheeks, lingered a look of resignation and despair. His hands, however, moved rapidly and unceasingly through an indecipherable stack of objects, removing them from one pile and placing them in another...where they were blown away by a fierce and constant wind. He has nothing to show for all his toil: he is, in all ways, bankrupt.
Of these two men, which are we? And if we respond “the latter”, as I assume the majority of us must honestly answer, how will we minister to this poor busy-crazed culture of ours? How will we be agents of redemption to a nation starved of rest, when we do not know how to stop ourselves? How can we invite the world into this amazing dance of ours if we have lost the rhythm and can not recall the steps?
I submit that this rest can be accessed as we experience the means of grace (the ways we engage in relationship with Christ). We must recognize the Father’s example to us--how he rested from his work on the seventh day (we must have Sabbath rest weekly). We must allow the gospel time to come to bear on our hearts and sit there and distill and transform us (we need to be exposed to his Word). We must come into God’s presence to hear from him and speak to him (prayer) and come into the presence of his people (fellowship). We must give him all praise, honor, and glory as we reflect on his beauty (worship); we must recognize the death he died and celebrate the life he lives for us (the Lord’s supper). Another list of things to do? No--rather, the cadence of our life should be measured by these, and not by our duties. It may take time, and tentative steps. It might take sweeping everything else off of the plate of our lives in order to create and start with those important moments. But If we do not, we will be seeking to give to the unbelieving world out of spiritual bankruptcy...and the world already has that.
Perhaps your story looks like mine: in leaving childhood to begin secondary school, duties increased, studies got longer, sleep hours grew shorter, and the idea of actually sitting down to quietly think or read or pray floated ever more distant into the recesses of my mind. Much quicker to retreat from me: the concept of play and joyful abandon. Now, with two young children and a seminary-eclipsed husband, I hurry about the house or campus, cleaning, cooking, working--buzzing with something at all times. Unable to stop or sit down or enter into the happy activities of my daughters (in spite of their sweet invitations and imploring tones), I define rest as something I must achieve. Devotions become another item on my checklist. (True) worship evaporates entirely. I can not stop until I am “done”.
I have been thinking of rest versus toil for weeks. Turning again and again to biblical poetry to satisfy my soul’s thirst for authenticity, I have found refreshing integrity in the authors’ descriptions of their struggle to know God and to understand his world. In Ecclesiastes, for example, Solomon reflects and repeats the rhythms of life, reminding us that everything has its season. If you are like me, you find yourself singing the Byrds’ tune to this “To everything, turn, turn, turn...”(see Ecclesiastes 3:1-8), and what a grace that popular music would be for us a way to remember the rhythm. God’s word teaches us how to dance through the experiences of life, whether joyous or pain-filled, instead of running, frenetic, “like chickens with our heads chopped off”.
Later on in the book, Solomon states: “Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind.” (Ecclesiastes 4:6). I was stunned by the vision that this verse conjured in my mind. I saw a man clinging to that which he has found in Christ with all of his might. I saw that he had only one hand-hold, one strong hand gripping the precious treasure of peace and rest, and it was enough to transform him. His countenance reflected the calm within, his cheeks flushed, eyes shining and expectant, his other strong arm ready to go about his Father’s business. I saw by contrast the dazed look of a man numbed by his toil and struggle: his eyes glazed-over, framed in fatigue’s black circles. In his pale face, with lined brow and sunken cheeks, lingered a look of resignation and despair. His hands, however, moved rapidly and unceasingly through an indecipherable stack of objects, removing them from one pile and placing them in another...where they were blown away by a fierce and constant wind. He has nothing to show for all his toil: he is, in all ways, bankrupt.
Of these two men, which are we? And if we respond “the latter”, as I assume the majority of us must honestly answer, how will we minister to this poor busy-crazed culture of ours? How will we be agents of redemption to a nation starved of rest, when we do not know how to stop ourselves? How can we invite the world into this amazing dance of ours if we have lost the rhythm and can not recall the steps?
I submit that this rest can be accessed as we experience the means of grace (the ways we engage in relationship with Christ). We must recognize the Father’s example to us--how he rested from his work on the seventh day (we must have Sabbath rest weekly). We must allow the gospel time to come to bear on our hearts and sit there and distill and transform us (we need to be exposed to his Word). We must come into God’s presence to hear from him and speak to him (prayer) and come into the presence of his people (fellowship). We must give him all praise, honor, and glory as we reflect on his beauty (worship); we must recognize the death he died and celebrate the life he lives for us (the Lord’s supper). Another list of things to do? No--rather, the cadence of our life should be measured by these, and not by our duties. It may take time, and tentative steps. It might take sweeping everything else off of the plate of our lives in order to create and start with those important moments. But If we do not, we will be seeking to give to the unbelieving world out of spiritual bankruptcy...and the world already has that.
January 03, 2009
Just another lonely day...
Tells you how long it's been since I've written when I'm cooking oxtail soup AGAIN....
Two notes on that recipe: it's best with 4 good sized oxtails (a bit over a pound's worth.). Second, use 4 tblspoons butter when scraping up the browned bits and 4 of flour when making the roux....My favorite wine to use thus far is the inexpensive (red) Zin I used tonight. Also, since Paprika is not as hot in the states as it is in Europe, a pinch or two of Cayenne at the end really gets that very slight "je ne sais quoi" heat on the back of your throat that the author I quoted from says is the aim....
I say it is "another lonely day" because Chip has been apart from our family for the longest amount of time ever in our marriage. Not that long, really. It will only be 8 days by the time he comes back, and you know, I know tons of you women out there who either had dads in the military, or husbands, or both, with much, much longer stretches than this. Just want you to know how much I admire you. I also want to say this has been a great week for me--giving me perspective; a great time with my two little girls (like a week long date with them!!! God has been so gracious to us and allowed us to really enjoy one another. Hurray for that.); plus my family is living practically next door, so that's helped a ton.
No, his absence has not been the hardest part of this time. It's that his dad is dying. It is so hard to be apart from him when I know he's struggling, and trying to do and be so much for his family. Please pray for him and for his dad in particular right now, to turn to the Lord ultimately in his time of weakness.
Anyway, what about another recipe, folks?
Butternut Squash Risotto (finally)
Roast a butternut in the oven by cutting it in half, scraping out the pithy/seedy interior and facing it downwards in a glass dish with about 1/2 inch of water until softened (about 30 minutes in a 350F oven, more or less). When done, scrape all the lovely soft flesh into a bowl. (This step can be accomplished consecutively with the ones below if your certain your oven will get the squash done in within 30 minutes' time).
Bring 3 quarts of chicken stock to a simmer. In a separate, heavy bottomed sauce pan (at least 4 quarts in volume) heat 1/4 cup of olive oil over med-lo heat. When brought to temperature, add one diced onion, one minced clove of garlic, and 4 oz chopped pancetta (alternatively you can use American bacon, chopped finely, but be careful not to burn it, as it is a very different product). *There is an option at this point of finely chopping a celery stalk and a carrot for further flavor and throwing it into the pan as well*. Cook until softened/onions (celery) translucent (be VERY careful not to burn the garlic as this gives everything a horrible bitter flavor).
When softened nicely, add 2 cups of arborio rice. (This is a special risotto rice, very starchy, becomes very creamy through cooking in this method). Stir until the rice grains are coated with the oil, making the outer edge of the rice grains clear looking (oily). Bring the heat up to medium, and add a cup of dry white wine, and cook about 1-2 minutes until it is mostly absorbed, but NOT dry looking--this is the method you will follow for the remainder of the cooking, so it is important to "get". Your rice will be at the perfect place to add more liquid when it is no longer standing in liquid, but the mixture is, instead, beginning to bubble low between the grains of rice (not dried out to the point of having no liquid at all). Add your first ladleful of simmering chicken stock. Stir occasionally, making sure nothing is sticking to the pan, and to encourage all the rice to absorb stock and release it's starch.
You will probably add nearly all of the stock to your risotto pan, ladleful by ladleful over the course of about 30 minutes, until the correct texture and consistency is reached. You want the rice to be just firm enough to have interest in your mouth (not pudding, not crunchy, but "al dente"). When it reaches that perfect texture, remove your risotto from the heat, stir in the butternut squash, and one last ladleful of stock, as well as 1/2 cup of grated parmesan reggiano (or to taste. You might want to put a wedge of it on the table with the grater to allow others to "garnish" their own bowl with a bit more). Grind a bit of white pepper over top (lovely with the sweet squash), and toss a bit of minced italian flat parsley for the beautiful color contrast. Serve with a seasonal salad (Ok, I'll write another recipe for one later...) and a glass of the same dry white wine you used to start off the risotto...or a better one to dress it up....or a red, if you must, but it MUST be a lighter bodied red, like a Pinot Noir.
I hope you guys enjoy...Much love, and I miss you all.
Two notes on that recipe: it's best with 4 good sized oxtails (a bit over a pound's worth.). Second, use 4 tblspoons butter when scraping up the browned bits and 4 of flour when making the roux....My favorite wine to use thus far is the inexpensive (red) Zin I used tonight. Also, since Paprika is not as hot in the states as it is in Europe, a pinch or two of Cayenne at the end really gets that very slight "je ne sais quoi" heat on the back of your throat that the author I quoted from says is the aim....
I say it is "another lonely day" because Chip has been apart from our family for the longest amount of time ever in our marriage. Not that long, really. It will only be 8 days by the time he comes back, and you know, I know tons of you women out there who either had dads in the military, or husbands, or both, with much, much longer stretches than this. Just want you to know how much I admire you. I also want to say this has been a great week for me--giving me perspective; a great time with my two little girls (like a week long date with them!!! God has been so gracious to us and allowed us to really enjoy one another. Hurray for that.); plus my family is living practically next door, so that's helped a ton.
No, his absence has not been the hardest part of this time. It's that his dad is dying. It is so hard to be apart from him when I know he's struggling, and trying to do and be so much for his family. Please pray for him and for his dad in particular right now, to turn to the Lord ultimately in his time of weakness.
Anyway, what about another recipe, folks?
Butternut Squash Risotto (finally)
Roast a butternut in the oven by cutting it in half, scraping out the pithy/seedy interior and facing it downwards in a glass dish with about 1/2 inch of water until softened (about 30 minutes in a 350F oven, more or less). When done, scrape all the lovely soft flesh into a bowl. (This step can be accomplished consecutively with the ones below if your certain your oven will get the squash done in within 30 minutes' time).
Bring 3 quarts of chicken stock to a simmer. In a separate, heavy bottomed sauce pan (at least 4 quarts in volume) heat 1/4 cup of olive oil over med-lo heat. When brought to temperature, add one diced onion, one minced clove of garlic, and 4 oz chopped pancetta (alternatively you can use American bacon, chopped finely, but be careful not to burn it, as it is a very different product). *There is an option at this point of finely chopping a celery stalk and a carrot for further flavor and throwing it into the pan as well*. Cook until softened/onions (celery) translucent (be VERY careful not to burn the garlic as this gives everything a horrible bitter flavor).
When softened nicely, add 2 cups of arborio rice. (This is a special risotto rice, very starchy, becomes very creamy through cooking in this method). Stir until the rice grains are coated with the oil, making the outer edge of the rice grains clear looking (oily). Bring the heat up to medium, and add a cup of dry white wine, and cook about 1-2 minutes until it is mostly absorbed, but NOT dry looking--this is the method you will follow for the remainder of the cooking, so it is important to "get". Your rice will be at the perfect place to add more liquid when it is no longer standing in liquid, but the mixture is, instead, beginning to bubble low between the grains of rice (not dried out to the point of having no liquid at all). Add your first ladleful of simmering chicken stock. Stir occasionally, making sure nothing is sticking to the pan, and to encourage all the rice to absorb stock and release it's starch.
You will probably add nearly all of the stock to your risotto pan, ladleful by ladleful over the course of about 30 minutes, until the correct texture and consistency is reached. You want the rice to be just firm enough to have interest in your mouth (not pudding, not crunchy, but "al dente"). When it reaches that perfect texture, remove your risotto from the heat, stir in the butternut squash, and one last ladleful of stock, as well as 1/2 cup of grated parmesan reggiano (or to taste. You might want to put a wedge of it on the table with the grater to allow others to "garnish" their own bowl with a bit more). Grind a bit of white pepper over top (lovely with the sweet squash), and toss a bit of minced italian flat parsley for the beautiful color contrast. Serve with a seasonal salad (Ok, I'll write another recipe for one later...) and a glass of the same dry white wine you used to start off the risotto...or a better one to dress it up....or a red, if you must, but it MUST be a lighter bodied red, like a Pinot Noir.
I hope you guys enjoy...Much love, and I miss you all.
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