Green Soup from Love Soup by Anna Thomas

As I said, Chris was in Boston for work this week, so I had a few days to myself.  Currently, I think he travels the perfect amount.  I love having a night or two to myself.  I think that’s healthy.  I also love trying to think of things to surprise him with when he gets back.  Sometimes it’s a clean closet, other times it’s a new shirt, and sometimes it’s just a meal I know he loves.  But there are also times when I get busy or lazy and the best I can manage is a sink with no dishes in it.

Either way, after a couple of nights of waking up to every bump in the night and listening out for nonexistent intruders, I’m ready for him to come home.  The house gets a little quiet, even with Meeks and NPR podcasts to help.

Anyway… this picture was my Monday night in a nutshell.  After I’d stood in my clean kitchen slicing kale, chard, onions and cilantro while sipping wine and listening to The Splendid Table.  The green soup comes from Love Soup by Anna Thomas.  It was good.  But not as good as one I made up just over a year ago.

My Sunday

Does anyone else ever try to take on too much?  Early Sunday morning, I dropped Chris off at the airport for a work trip, and returned home to sit on the rug with my coffee, Meeks, and about ten cookbooks spread out in front of us. My plan: choose some recipes, make a shopping list, go to the farmers market.

Then I thought, “and when I get back, I’ll reorganize all the cabinets and fridge while doing all the laundry.  And I’ll make some vegetable stock for the freezer. Yay!”

My eyes went to the corner where my little butcher block island stands, happily carrying some of the load for our bursting-at-the-seams cabinets and pantry.  We sure could use one of those big, open, industrial-looking shelves to display prettier items and free up some more cabinet space.  Did I dare go to IKEA alone and try to select, carry, then put together a shelf, while Chris was in Boston?  On top of all the other items on my agenda for the day?

Oh, but this is exactly the sort of thing I do.  I even thought I would do it all, and have time to go for a six-mile run, after which I’d leisurely make green soup for dinner and even bake some oatmeal raisin cookies to take to the office in the morning. At the end of it all, I’d curl up on the sofa with Meeks, a new book, and a glass of wine.

I thought I would do all this, and maybe even more, on Sunday.

Obviously, I did not get it all done, I did not sit down on the sofa for that glass of wine until 12:00am, and my dinner was popcorn with Cholula hot sauce, not green soup; there was no dessert.

But after seven back-and-forth trips to the car, I have all the things I need to cook to my heart’s content for a long time, including a precious stockpile of homemade broth.  And my shelf is pretty darn cute!  Though the shelves themselves will probably benefit from actually being screwed into the frame.

I think I’ll wait until Chris gets back.

First Fall Run

The first Fall run is nice.  You’re faster than you realized, without hundred-degree weather.  Everything feels lighter and all bouncy, and you run like you’re running away from something.

If towards the end of your run, some bad guy or crazy person were to think you an easy target, he’d be wrong!  You have more energy than when you started an hour ago.  You are almost sprinting.

There’s something else, too.  The air is alive and moving. Something is stirring.  You feel a distant nostalgia for events that took place long ago, for moments, people, and opportunities you’ve lost forever.   But you also wonder, excitedly, what’s to come.

You take long, rhythmic strides, leaping over obstacles (because you remember), with your chin up to clear your airway.  You take it all in, because it is ever so brief.

My stove on any given night

I have spent so many happy evenings right here!  This is a picture of the stove, right in the middle of me cooking dinner.

Now, this particular dinner was somewhat of a palooza.  Dishpalooza, is what Chris named it.  That happens sometimes.  I get pulled in too many different directions as I consider what to make, and I never quite reach a decision.  Then, I end up making something that never really had an end goal, and the result is, in this particular case, brown rice and chopped kale with caramelized onions, sauteed pattypan squash, black beans, and toasted sesame seeds.

The sum was much less than its parts.

Do you see the sweet red chili sauce and the whole grain mustard over there on the left?  That is how all-over-the-place my creations are, on occasion.

But I made up for it the following night.  Oh - and I don't normally like for the stove to be that crowded. Simple is best.

Speaking of simple, last weekend we went to our friends' home for dinner.  We grilled on the back patio.  The dinner ended up so spontaneously wonderful, with everything working out in courses that we shared, so we got a little taste of everything.  We ended it with espresso and strawberry shortcake.  We left around midnight, but we could have sat there longer just chatting.

At one point, our friend Derek went inside to get the barbecue sauce.  Little did I know he was whipping it up from scratch in a little pan on the stove, with ketchup, onions, brown sugar, apple cider vinegar, and I can't remember what else.  When I went inside to grab something though, there was NO sign of it being homemade.  No ingredients left out, no messes, no recipe, no stressed out look (thinking of myself here).  He simply whipped it up as if it were nothing.  That is the kind of cooking we should all strive for!

Blueberry Cobbler & Sorbet: Go to Earth Eats for the Recipe!

I'm really excited - my first post for the awesome food podcast, public media program, and blog Earth Eats has appeared.  I thought it was appropriate to write about blueberry cobbler for my first post, since I grew up in the Blueberry Capital of Georgia... and had a freezer full of blueberries from my mom. :-)

I wrote about two types of cobbler, and easy blueberry sorbet. Check out the recipes at Earth Eats! :-D

Walmartz

Okay. So this is another one of those posts that kinda veers from the topic - or at least, seems to - and may get a little deep and philosophical in the non-intelligent way.  But I just have to say - I enjoyed my time at Walmart today.

I know there's lots of controversy about Walmart.  Unethical labor practices, the demise of America, and such.

But all that aside, I spent five years in Atlanta before I found my Walmart, the one I didn't realize existed so close to all the designer boutiques and cute cafes and independent shops and pedestrian-friendly, European-esque neighborhoods... yet there Walmart lay, just a short trip down I-20 E.

I found it during a transitional period in my life (now.) and I do find such solace there, after work, once a week-ish, when I go after a 12-hour day to wonder its isles aimlessly, admiring the various scents of Softsoap I can get for $0.97, or sometimes even less depending on whether or not it's Rollback time.

Being a big NPR fan, I know Walmart is evil, but I've actually found their produce section impressive!  Much better than the Kroger near me (every time I buy an onion there it's rotten inside!).  Walmart-Eastside's produce is always fresh, picked at it's peak, and cheap.  Kind of like the farmer's market, except in a setting that seems much less trendy and somehow it's probably unethical, but it tastes good.

I want to end by saying that Walmart reminds me of childhood.  Because everyone in small towns goes to Walmart, and I went with my mom, sisters, and women neighbors all the time to buy wide-ruled notebooks and beach towels.  No one in Walmart is pretentious, and if he is, well, he doesn't fit in.  It's a great place to be alone but not, and buy some good-smelling bodywash for a dollar, and Walmart - I'd like to thank you for that, anyway.  Though, if you're reading this - you really shouldn't buy body wash.  Bar soap is much more economical and environmentally responsible.

The Turnip Truck's Roots and Other Fun Thoughts

I have been so busy lately, I haven't taken the time to cook anything worth posting about, let alone snap a photo of the food and upload it.  I miss my blog!  And I always have the urge to say something, about food or otherwise, which reaffirms what I've always known, that the writing is as important to me as, and probably more than, the cooking.

I've often thought that if the worst happened, if I had no money and lived in a horrible little old shack with no electricity and only a mattress on the floor, or if I got in a horrible accident and couldn't walk, or if I were sentenced to life in prison even, I would be okay and find a way to be happy because I would just focus all of my energy on my biggest passion, writing.

So with that in mind, I bring you a post about nothing... and everything!  Here is a picture of a wee little pancake Chris made for Meeks.  It was part of our yummy breakfast we had the day of the Little Five Points Halloween parade, which is the best Halloween parade you could ever imagine.

And here's us, at the parade. This picture is one of my favorites because it captures one of my favorite things about Chris, which is that he is a comedian.

Moving on.  I grew up in a tiny, rural farming town in Southeast Georgia.  We always had a garden, and our neighbors had farms, so every spring, summer, and fall I worked hard, planting seeds, weeding, digging up peanuts, potatoes, and carrots, picking berries, tomatoes, squash, and peppers, shucking and creaming corn, and canning vegetables and pickles and anything you could imagine.  So I really appreciate food and where it comes from.  My mom has her own awesome garden right now, and these are tomatoes from last year's garden.

I'm very proud of where I grew up.  Growing up in the middle of nowhere forced me to use my imagination, and made me the creative person I am today.  It also made me love physical labor, which is weird to love, but comes in handy.  Oh, and it made me a minimalist.  When you grow up surrounded by fields, you learn to appreciate the little things in life, like that fleeting moment between dusk and dark, when everything takes on a greenish hue... I don't think the city has ever been that color.

Though, even as I talk about the things that growing up in the country "made me," I don't know which came first, the chicken or the egg.  Because, just as likely, I was inclined to imagine, create, move, and crave authenticity. And nature is the best place for these things.

I used to climb the pecan trees in this picture.

Living in the city now, I crave nature from time to time.  That's the great thing about Atlanta; there are tons of parks.  There are also tons of dogs, so I get my animal fix, too.  I've always loved animals.  Growing up on a "semi-farm," that can be a good and a bad thing.  I had plenty of pets, but I also had to deal with their deaths, either because they got old, or sick, or killed for food.  And now I'm a vegan.

This is my parents' horse, Lance (he's blond like Lance Armstrong).

And here are the other horses, minus Tootie (yeah... I know).  If you are ever having a bad day, and want to feel better, go stand in a horse's stall and brush his coat and braid his mane.  You will feel better, like everything is right in the world.  If you don't have access to a horse, you should find your version. :-)

And some other "critters" around my parents' house.  They're baby birds, but they look like little monsters!!

Well, that's enough indulgence for now!  Thank you for reading my my post about things that make me happy that aren't only food, and since this is a post about joy, I'll end on the sweetest of notes.

Busy busy busy!

I started working at a bakery about a week ago... and I've been eating lots of yummy pastries and sweets there!  When I get home, I feel tired (in a good way) and in the mood for something simple.  So, I haven't come up with many crazy creations to write about.  There are only so many posts you can write about steamed veggies, right?

Actually, I could probably talk forever about the virtues of steamed veggies, but no one wants to hear it.

So, James, thank you again for the squash. I finished the last of them tonight.

And more posts to come, very soon.  Because even after spending all day around food, I come home covered in flour and mustard, looking forward to cooking dinner. Even if dinner is a bowl of pretty steamed squash. :-)

The Littlest Grocery Shopper :-)

I want...

I want to work in a sunny kitchen with nice people making colorful, made-from-scratch food and serving it to customers whom I talk to and get to know. I want to lift crates of apples, sweep onion peels from floors, knead wads of bread dough, and leave at the end of the day exhausted and covered in flour and tomato sauce. I want to organize refrigerators, counters, display cases, and pantries so that even the cans of beans are beautiful. I want to give people food that makes them feel good, and educate them on how to make it themselves. I want to write about my experiences every day. I want someone else to write down recipes because I hate measuring.