The End Of June

We've had some special people in town this June.  To celebrate the end of our 3 week visit with Ed, and to commemorate the middle of Devon's trip, and also to congratulate Rafi on his GroWA launch we ate cheese.  Lots of cheese.  Fancy cheese.  Delicious cheese, and a whole loaf of bread.  Plus a little steamed kale to complement our digestive tracks.  Oh we feasted... Humboldt Fog, Cave Gruyere, Roaring 40, Austrian Tilsit, Cambozola and a flakey hard cheese I can't remember the name of. And Pate, oh the Pate; with homemade pickles and dilly beans.  A bottle of Retsina and an Italian Red from Montepulciano.

There's something in appreciating good cheeses that makes one smile.  Even our child knows what she likes, asking for bleu over hard and requesting slab after slap of pate.  Our taste buds open, we allow ourselves to slide into a blissful state as we all reach across one another and discuss our worlds, the flavors and make toasts to one another.  A special thing indeed to be family with such lovely people.

Such lovely people, who are really good at hugging.

the pickled egg

So what do you do when you're egg bowl is full daily?  You fry them, you make fritatas, you give them away, you pickle them!  Here I am to give you one of my favorite and easiest recipes of all time: Pickled Eggs!

1) Every time you empty a jar of pickles, dilly beans, hot peppers, what-have-you;  dump your pickling brine into a half gallon jar until full.

2) When your egg bowl is overflowing take the oldest dozen from the bottom of the bowl and put them in a carton, in the fridge and forget about for roughly 2 weeks.  (This aging process creates an egg that is easy to peel)

3) Place all eggs in a saucepan, cover with water and bring to a boil.  Turn off heat and cover pan for 10 minutes.

4) Immediately plunge eggs into cold water and continue to run cold water through them until the eggs are easy to touch and not scalding.

5) Peel eggs and drop them into your brine, keeps indefinitely in the fridge, but ready to eat after 1 week.

In gratitude...

...for small seeds that become a season's worth of nutrition.

The Community Potluck

What fun our community had last night!  Our first monthly Local Foods Community Potluck was a grand success with over 60 people in attendance.  It went better than I could have hoped for.  There were just people helping out everywhere I looked!  Two long tables of food were quickly filled with the season's bounty as folks arrived and we had a lovely round dessert table as well.  The line snaked across the room as the music of Celtic Schmeltic filled the room.  The energy of people greeting, eating, relaxing and socializing were a delight to behold.

What amazed me is that there were people there that I didn't know; a lot of them!  What a treat for an event facilitator to experience.  This was an event that the community was apparently waiting for and I just couldn't be more thrilled.  I kept saying to myself, and out loud that as long as it didn't go horribly we could continue, (I'd even accept mediocre), but there was no problem there!  The place was packed!  Every seat was used and every plate had to be washed.  That was remarkable within itself, without even having to set foot in the kitchen myself suddenly the kitchen was filled with people hoping to get a chance to wash some dishes.  That is community!

A little brainstorm that Sally and I had back in the cold winter  was incubated and helped along by Chris at The Arts Center and we were able to hatch it into a wonderful community event that we can look forward to each and every month.  I am feeling so proud right now.

Thank-you all so much, and mark the last Sunday of each month on your calendars!

Must Have Been Thursday

This is what my kitchen looks like circa 2pm on Thursdays.  Filled to the brim with local food edibles.  Yogurts, milks, meats, cheeses, tofu, lettuces, greens and fresh fruits fill up every crevice I can find in my refrigerator, freezer and counter, oftentimes my kitchen table too.  It is a varitable food festival in these parts.  Then come 6pm most everything is gone, aside from the stragglers and empty bins and boxes.  So this is what I do with Eat Local Eastport Buying Club; I distribute an amazing amount of delicious, tasty and satisfying foods!

Successes

There's something in keeping a garden that is really exhilarating.  It's amazing what can happen overnight in a garden.  The two year old apple tree is building fruit.  The raspberry transplants leaf out.  Your brassica bed in which you started all of the seedlings is full and lush and harvestable.  The peas begin to blossom.  And the herb bed fills out.

These are the joys around my garden, in my life.  They are rich and full and lush.  It's noticing a bud begin to blossom on a perennial transplant from yesterday to today.  Or the quince stems you began propagating over a month ago sending out little buds and beginnings of leaves.  It's doing little beside providing fertile ground, water when it's dry and wishing, watching and hoping.

Even amongst the cucumber beetles and red ants, it's the feeling of sweet, sweet success!

Life With Grandpa Ed

The unfortunate news is that Grandpa Ed has 2 fractured ribs.  The wonderful thing for us is that he's recuperating at 3 Brighton Ave!  We've had him here for the better part of 2 weeks and it's been so nice.  Ce and him read and eat cereal together and talk.  Rafi and Ed watch British Detective shows together and wear neutral colors.  It's been nice to have him in the fold here at The Hopkins.

The Photos I Never Take

Include piles of clean laundry waiting to be folded.

The girl and father snuggled into each other, with her head on his "arm pillow" and them sweet as sweet can be snuggled into one another.

Myself picturesquely knitting on the couch, in the car, around the supper table.

Planting in the garden.

Early morning mowing with the scythe.

Daughter, on floor, mid meltdown.

Greeting of an old friend.

Nighttime family storytime, laying side by side with each of our own pillows and spots listening sleepily (mama), listening excitedly (ceci) and reading lovingly (papa).

The hours spent on the computer sending out lists, compiling orders and doing bookkeeping for Eat Local Eastport.

The sweet sound of birds at dawn that call me outside first thing on a late Spring morning...

Gathering

on the shore
within these walls
along my spine, throughout my muscles
across the phone lines
through some hugs
in leafy greens
with a friend
with my husband
hand in hand with our girl

I am gathering for what is coming up ahead.

Our First Harvest

 

I went out to the garden this morning to examine post rain shower, and what do you think I found?  That the radish bulges were really starting to bulge in places, so down I kneeled, examining, moving in a circle around the bed.  I brushed some dirt away from a few swollen roots.  I hemmed, I hawed.  Then I reached in and plucked, a few reds, a few whites and even a purple.

Very suddenly my garden helper appeared from feeding the chickens their morning grass as I was spraying the dirt off of the young radishes.  She then did the heavy work of carrying our harvest inside. 

Then of course came the tasting.  The sweet tender, with the sharp spicy aftertaste of the first picked radish of the season.  Worth the wait.

Cecilia has a new passion.  The chickens.  We don boots and pants and go to check eggs.  In to the chicken coop we enter and Cecilia promptly turns to her mother or father and says quite pointedly "GO!"  That being said we nervously sat outside or in the doorway and watched as Cecilia happily held the chickens.  In and out the door and ramp she goes and entertainment, pleasure and joy follow.  While at first guilt at not accompanying our 2 year old consumes a parent in this scenario, it is very quickly realized that neither the chickens nor the child need our help in this relationship.  Each chicken is in turn chased, hugged, kissed and loved.  Any thought of leaving the coop or pen is unacceptable by the girl and is met with cries and screams of protest, for Miss Ce only wants to play with chickens these days.  You'll see why in the following photos.

Weekend Scenes

Spud Club + Front Porch.

Scenes From The Resident 2 Year Old

Painting Her Own Face.

Stickering Her Body Post Shower.

Putting The Horses To Bed.

My Morning Wander

I like to take a walk each morning and admire our yard and gardens.  I make a latte, put a wool jacket on over my nightgown and mudboots over my barefeet.  I then make my way around the property, watching, noting, imagining.  There are so many successes out there.  I love to watch the third, fourth and fifth set of leaves come in this time of year.  Those little leaves that start the identification process of the plants and very suddenly we see buds turning to blooms.  In late spring you can often see the difference in plants between the morning and evening times.

I watch my transplants, seedlings and seeds leafing out, getting established, sprouting and it feels like success.  I forever doing little bits each and every day.  Waiting until just the right moment to find a home for all the lush greenery coming into our lives.  It is such a treat to watch our little piece of land take shape, to transform into our personal vision for the world.  It is a vision that involves minimal amounts of mowing.  It is a vision that provides our family with many edibles.  It is a vision that creates a quiet little oasis in our backyard.  It is a slow process creating privacy with plants, but it is one of beauty and joy in my opinion.

Won't you watch a garden grow today my friends?

Reliving Childhood

The amount of time we spend in life trying to reclaim experiences, tastes, sensations, smells and joy of our youth is astounding.  Thirty minutes out of the way?  No problem.  Everything's closed?  No problem.  Just seeing it, realizing it's entirely different (of course) and creating a new memory there.  To attempt to reclaim some of the simple pleasures of our youths and hand those on to our children.  Of course I'm certain the moments that Cecilia will try to recreate will be different than those I try to create for her.   We connect to our ancestors as we allow the ocean waves to lap at our toes, my mother played hear, and her mother before that.  We eat hot dogs as comfort at the same counter that they've always been served at. 

The risk of trying to relive these childhood experiences of course is that everything has changed, your size, your company, the traditions, the excitement.  By going back to old haunts we somehow hope our 8 year old brother will be sitting next to us, or our mother will be leading the way, or a grandparent will help us float in the ocean.  Alas this nostalgia is filled with disappointment, we arrive at the wrong hours and the arcade is closed, or our tastes have changed and the drink is too sweet.  We are no longer 4 feet tall.  

Luckily we are capable of adapting and finding new traditions.  We find a new eatery that we can return to, we make note of the arcades hours for future visits.  Because while so much may have changed, we find we still want to return and walk the transforming shore.

The Cape

Well we went to Massachusetts and only brought one tick home.  In the mean time we had a lot of fun, specifically celebrating Aunt Anastasia's High School Graduation.  She's going here next year, oh to be 18 and traveling!  We saw grandparents, cousins and animal friends.  We felt the rain, sand and sun.  We felt thanks and celebration.  There was some nostalgia and new memories formed.  Miss Ce loved all the attention and stimuli.  It is good to travel, and over and over again we remember how good it is to be home!