Still Waiting

We had an early start to spring but now that we've had more cold weather and wind storms it feels like we're still waiting for spring. The late plum and cherry blossoms are fully popped popcorn and the magnolia and camellia blossoms hang on with French manicured tenacity. My back aches from the cold. My back aches from everything. Complain, complain.

I just read another crime novel: Corn Dolls by Patrick Lennon. It's a good evocation of the Fenns, and I love all that dark pagan stuff like in The Wicker Man. Occasional passages are especially lyrical. It's refreshing to read a plot that includes Russians who aren't gang members. I like writing that's got more depth in the characters than in this book, although the plot did keep ticking along nicely--a much needed diversion and a palate cleanser in between meeting some deadlines.

I heard the song "Dust in the Wind" the other day at the Sally Anne in North Van and now I can't get that song out of my head. Gah! I'm sad that the little café that used to serve roti on Lower Lonsdale has disappeared. I liked it because it was cozy and homespun.

It must be hard on those birds with the fragile nests that hang down from the branches, the ones spun from hair, spider webs and grass. How do they manage in these strong winds?

First Sleepover

They went to bed at 10:30 and woke up at 4:30. Played World of Warcraft until pancakes at 9 am. Peter and I slept on the hide-a-bed and watched two "date" movies, Sunshine Cleaners and Little Miss Sunshine. (SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't watched these movies you might not want to read the rest of this post, although I try to be circumspect.) Both movies were entertaining, and both left me feeling unsatisfied at the end, especially LMS. I found the characters in Sunshine Cleaners more interesting but I still wanted more depth from both movies. Comedies need to be anchored in some kind of reality to make them funny. Either that, or really go big and satirical. Maybe it's a matter of taste, but I like some meat on my comedy. I wept a lot watching Sunshine Cleaners, but the lack of suspension of disbelief meant it didn't touch the deepest chords of my emotions. Alan Arkin is great in both movies. In fact, once his character dies, the plot of LMS starts to lag. I didn't like the ending. I thought Olive should have been able to do her routine without the overreactions in the audience and her family coming up on stage. Why bring in the police? Dumb and unnecessary. I thought she should have had a routine that started "normal" and then built up into the wilder moves that her grandpa had choreographed. I mean all those little pageant contestants are highly sexualized anyway, so showing an outraged audience just didn't cut it for me.

Another thing I liked about Sunshine Cleaners was watching the characters just being vulnerable on their own without dialogue. The device of the CB radio that allows them to "talk to heaven" was empty. In fact, it could have been more interesting if a trucker had actually had a conversation with the small boy rather than just hearing dead air. I'm a mystery novel junkie, so a movie about death scene clean-up is bound to appeal to me but parts of the movie didn't smell as fresh as others. The bit about the former cheerleader who's trying to impress her school mates feels like it was past its sell-by date. The affair that's going nowhere could have ended a lot earlier than it did. I so wanted the main character to have another relationship. I was flummoxed as to why innuendos in that direction never went anywhere. Will there be a sequel? Ha! There will certainly be more sleepovers!

Chaos

I used to embrace chaos. I used it as camouflage to hide behind. Now I just don't have the energy for it. However, I do love the relative chaos of teaching grade four and five students about vegetables and color and texture through a lesson plan I've never taught before. One must take risks and take the plunge. Prayer flags drip bright blue splotches onto the floor. Only one child chooses yellow, one chooses umber and the rest all choose purple and blue. They want to grow mangoes and rice in the Pacific Northwest gardening zone and I love them for it. They love the little bits of responsibility you dole out to them--cleaning sponges and brushes, opening packages of clothespins, orienting a garden North, South, West, East. "I know how to do it," one student says, "Never Enter Stinky Washrooms." North, East, South, West. He's right.

Kids deserve creative chaos. Let's give it to them as much as we can.

I Wuv You Brunhilda

The first time I heard Brunhilda laying an egg I thought there was a raccoon in the hen house. All the squawking and clucking made me come running over with my emergency poultry first aid kit. Since then, I've learned that the hen with the sleek black plumage is just an operatic layer. Lucky for us, we've been given a few of the fruits of her labor and they are certainly something to sing about. I used her eggs this weekend to make a butterscotch pudding for a banoffee trifle. Our neighbor says she will swap eggs for child-tested and approved recipes. This is part of our Two Block Diet ethos--sharing resources and celebrating our local food culture.

My mom used to make butterscotch pudding and serve it with called fruit in the winter, but as I remember it was most often made with a Jello pudding mix. Making it from scratch is actually really easy and if you serve it with fresh fruit--like bananas, it can be "ab fab". I used a recipe from the blog of David Lebovitz, an American in Paris. By looking at his photo you would think he is a smug basterd, but his writing is funny and interesting, so we'll forgive him for now. I used cereal cream instead of whole milk and although I found the pudding did curdle slightly, it was not enough for me to run it through the food processor as he suggests. I actually used the pudding to make a banoffee trifle, but more on that later. For now, I'll just leave you thinking good thoughts about homemade butterscotch pud.

first spon poem and daily blessing

Spon1

Nudibranch
mochi mocha Momofuku
Sochi seaweed banter
audible regret, ammendments to the soil
whisper, whisper, whisper
inclusive mysterious auditory hallucinations
I meant to say seaweed butter
to make it more appetizing for you, sweet mystery of life
Tira mi su Take Me Higher
Choir

I will write a self help book and it will be called Bananas, Butterscotch and the Real You!

Bless the woman with a splotch of coral lipstick on her age spotted cheek carrying her Russian prayer book. Was she recently kissed by a friend, I wondered.

Bless the man in his mustard pants too tight and pulling at his crotch, pilling at the hips. I couldn't help but look.

Bless the woman trying to get her scooter turned around on the bus, trying again and again. Bless the patient driver, trying to figure out how to swing it around a wheelchair on the other side. We can all fit in if we patiently shift and make room for one another. There is room for everyone. There's another bus behind this one. Why do people think this is the last bus home?

Bless the tawdry salon sofa in leopard print fabric that has seen a lot of quick, cheap haircuts. Bless the hairdresser who's seen a lot of ears in this business and yours are not so bad. Bless her.

Bless the woman with the dark circles under her eyes in sweat pants who reminds me of my friend who died of cancer. If only I would have known what those dark circles meant.

Bless the three chickens bedding down for the night. Black, rust, rust.

Bless the young mother with harsh makeup looking at anything but her child or the woman with Down's across from her on the bus.

Bless the woman with a British accent, salt and pepper hair pulled up Cyndy Lou Hoo style on the top of her head. Cyndy Loo, it's you!

And bless the waxy pink hyacinths growing straight out of the ground, languishing, heavy-headed on the surrounding grass. The shy dog, the brazen crow, the setting sun. Bless my son who never wants me to cut his hair because he's too busy, too busy. He and his dad fighting lush, imaginary villains.

Bless Lady Gaga and her Snatch and Grab.

Bless every last candy-coated sunflower seed in my gut.

Spring Break Matinee

Popcorn and a movie in the middle of the afternoon. Bacon and noodles with broccoli for lunch. One last glorious weekday at home before spring break ends.

Birthday Stitch n' Bitch

I was really excited to be able to gather a group of my favorite girlfriends together for a good ole stitch n' bitch. "Chef Pierre" agreed to cook for us, and made a curried mushroom quiche and a roasted pepper quiche. We had locally made Bean Boy dips and crackers, and spanikopita.

I made Crimini mushrooms stuffed with garlic, onions, panko crumbs, almonds, thyme, and Parmigiano Regiano.

M. brought delicious fig and goat cheese tarts, which went down nicely with the Prosecco.

She also gave me this darling jar of meringues.

I hadn't made dessert, so I was delighted when B. showed up with cream puffs and strawberries drizzled with chocolate.

After chowing down, we headed to the living room where the knitters showed us their current projects and I handed out a little take-home moth craft I'd devised for the evening. we stitched cut-out moths onto pieces of fabric in tiny embroidery hoops. (I didn't get photos of them because my camera performs so poorly in low light I didn't think I could do them justice.) They were beautiful and some day I'd love to have a show of a bunch of these moths done my people in the community. They'd look great together amassed on a wall.

We stitched, we kvetched, we whined, and we laughed.

We talked at length about the education system and our frustrations with the schools we deal with. It was good to share our worries, our heartbreak, and our little victories.

The kids got to hang out upstairs, watch videos, play games, eat popcorn and stay up late. I hope everyone had as much fun as I did. Let's do this more often!

Changing Light

The light is changing dramatically today with winds blowing the clouds at a fast pace across the sky. My friend and I took our sons to Medina for Belgian waffles and chocolate sauce this morning. We were lucky to end up in the overflow room which is in the back, and actually part of Chambar restaurant. The light came flooding in at our backs--something that rarely happens in Vancouver restaurants. I felt a kind of homesickness for light--for a kind of light I crave in certain remembered and imaginary buildings. One of the reasons I look at lifestyle magazines is to seek those delicious places of light. We need more light in our house. I'd like to live in a place that holds light like a translucent clam shell. We peeked in at the cooking school called The Dirty Apron. My oh my, what lovely ranges they have and I covet the communal dining table in the window. That room would make a great studio!

I headed to DeSerres to shop for paint and they were playing Joni Mitchell and I was happy happy happy.

Apparently people are not playing Bingo in the great numbers they used to. I think this is a good thing. Bingo parlors are definitely lacking in light in every sense of the word.

Improvisational Cooking: Beyond the Red Sauce

My dearly beloved often cleans out the fridge by making a red sauce with whichever bits and bobs happen to be left over from the past three of four days. So hello, we're in a rut. One of my mini resolutions this year was to get beyond the typical red sauce on pasta. One of our son's favorite things to eat is traditional spaghetti with meatballs which I make with either ground buffalo or lamb, depending on what looks good at the butcher. I don't really know where Ules acquired his loved of this dish, but I guess it's just that it's fun to eat and offers no surprises--no hidden herbs or spices that might make him abandon ship so I decided to make him meatballs and cook something different for us adults.

A couple of nights ago I pulled out a cookbook called Molto Italiano: 327 Italian Recipes to Cook at Home by Mario Batali. (It was one of my best thrift shop finds!) I looked at the pictures for inspiration and hit upon St. Joh's Eve Pasta. What appealed to me was the toasted bread crumbs and sliced almonds on top of the noodles. Then I spotted the Herb Sandwich from Parma with its emerald green mix of cooked spinach and chard. I grabbed some locally made egg noodles we had in our pantry and I began to improvise, sautéeing chopped onions and garlic in olive oil, toasting the almonds and breadcrumbs and cleaning and chopping spinach and curly kale (I would have preferred chard). I also fried up some bacon. Once the greens were cooked I tossed them with the nuts and bread crumbs and some Parmigiano Reggiano and finally the noodles. Crumble the bacon on top and there you have it--an easy way to see green instead of red. I served this with some slices of raw zucchini on the side because that's another one of my mini-resolutions: to have raw fruit or vegetables on every plate we eat. For dessert we had some Brazen Blackberry Mead from Tugwell Creek Winery and fleur de sel caramels from Chocolaterie Nouvelle France.

Growing Old with Grace (I Hope)

This weekend I enjoyed some of my favorite things for my birthday, like almond cha at Shaktea. Maria makes a special version for me by mixing in a bit of crushed organic black sesame seeds. It's mellow and nutty and very grounding.

Ules goes for the chocolate mouse cake and rooibus chai.

These are the tasting pots.

Here's the almond cha with a chicken pesto sandwich on toasted focaccia--perfect for the three-o'clock munchies, or for a quick lunch.

Next we head across the Street to Chocolaterie La Nouvelle France where the guys buy me another of my favorite treats: rich and buttery chocolate caramels.

Finally we head over to the in laws for a family dinner.

Veggies in phyllo cups.

We also had roasted vegetables and a pork roast stuffed with Oyama sausage, bacon and stuffing. It's a favorite! We drank 2001 cabernet franc from Nichol and Burrowing Owl.

To finish, we had a cake with a 1986 Barsac.


A feisty game of scrabble by the fireplace ensued, while I periodically checked the television for the final winners of the Academy Awards. Thanks everyone for a cozy happy tasty birthday!

Gerianiol Does a Body Good

I'm doing a bit of quick research on the plants that attract bees and find that geraniol seems to be an ingredient in the essential oils of many flowers that attract bees. Plants with geraniol (a monoterpenoid and an alcohol) attract bees and bees themselves use geraniol to mark nectar bearing-flowers and the entrances to their hives. Beekeepers used to rub lemon balm on the entrances to their beehives to help the bees find their way home. Ironically, geraniol is also reputed to be very good for humans in that it is anti-oxidant, anti- bacterial and it helps fight tooth decay which is why you'll find it in natural toothpastes containing monarda and/or ginger. Geraniol is also used in natural mosquito and blackfly repellents.

When I look at the list of herbs and spices containing geraniol there's an uncanny relationship to the list of my favorite aromas and flavors. Thai food, which contains lemongrass and ginger is reputed to be fantastic for your health, especially now that coconut oil is on the list of foods that are really good for you. In a raw food cookbook my sister gave me for my birthday called Ani's Raw Food Desserts by Ani Phyo the author uses coconut oil, another ingredient extensively in her recipes and says it even has anti-aging properties.

palmarosa 82%
citronella 23%
geranium: up to 17%
orangeflower: up to 7.6%
verbena 6.6%
artemisia vestita wall.: 6.2%
marjorum: up to 6%
lemongrass oil: 2.59%
Thymus vulgaris: 2.16%
turmeric: 1.13 %
clary sage: 0.3-1%
sage: up to .7%
oregano: 0.6%
rosemary .5%
ginger: 0.3-.6%
manuka: 0.5%
monarda: up to 0.5%
lemon verbena: 0.4 to 0.5%
cardamom: 0.2 to 0.4 %
grape: 0.1-.3%
lavender oil: 0.1 to 0.2%
grapefruit: up to 0.18%
nutmeg: up to .013 %
basil: 0.02%

Arunwatcharin, Supapipat, and Rachtanapun have studied the medicinal effects of geraniol in an essay called Antimicrobial activity of essential oils from Thai herbs against foodborne pathogenics and spoilage microorganisms. The scientists studied the antimicrobial activity of the essential oils in Thai basil, lemon grass, citronella, Kaffir lime, Kaffir lime leaf, black pepper and sweet basil and the phytochemicals boreol and geraniol. They tested these herbs on some nasty bacteria, including salmonella and found "geraniol and lemon grass essential oil had the strongest antimicrobial activity against the tested microorganisms (MICs ranging from 0.04 to 0.08% and from 0.1 to 0.5%, respectively)."

I'm definitely going to try to find more information about geraniol and its beneficial effects on humans and bees. Let me know if any of you run into some more information on this topic. It makes sense that cultures with hot climates would cook food with these herbs and spices high in geraniol to prevent spoilage. I'm all for any good excuse to eat more curry!

Portrait of a Picky Eater

This plate used to contain a cinnamon bun.

(Switch to photo of a plate of peas.)

This plate used to contain a vegetable samosa.

(Switch to another photo of a plate of peas.)

This plate used to contain a chicken pot pie.

My son is a picky eater and I just can't relate. I have always eaten pretty much anything put in front of me. I've been an adventurous eater from an early age--as adventurous as you can be growing up in a small town in Saskatchewan. As soon as I left home I sought out novelty and adventures in food. My partner loves all kinds of food too, and so we've always dragged our son to a variety of restaurants from an early age. He used to eat pretty much whatever he could get in his mouth, including the cutlery. And then it all went horribly wrong. When did it happen? When he learned to talk? After he projectile vomited in a Buddhist vegetarian restaurant? I can't even remember, but all of a sudden he didn't want his foods mixed up together. No sauce. No cheese. No greens except broccoli and peas raw and fresh from the garden. The only time I've ever eaten like that is when I had pregnancy sickness. Hmmmm . . . contributing factor or conspiracy theory? And before you ask, he had both formula and breast milk, so let's not go there.

Then I find out my significant other has a dirty secret. He was a picky eater too. His father said he suspected his son of being a "super taster", or a person with an over-sensitivity to bitter foods. Maybe it runs in the family. I wonder if there is a test for it--along with a series of cookbooks about how to cater for your super taster without losing your mind. I don't know if my son is a super taster but he sure doesn't have an aversion to anything sweet.

My partner and I have learned to cook meals that please all three of us. There are days when I just say to myself, "Screw it. He's getting a hot dog tonight and I'm cooking what I really want." However, most of the time we've just adjusted to a very minimalist palette of food. It's healthy, but I do get tired of the "protein, vegetable, vegetable, fruit, starch" mantra. I seek inspiration. I shun those who proselytize and avoid those who brag of their child's prodigious palate. "He's the only child Charlie Trotter will allow in his kitchen," I actually overheard a proud mama say of her son in a Vancouver restaurant. Spare me. I have nothing against kids who love good food, and I admire those who can eat their tofu and oatmeal birthday cake [sic] with a photo-perfect smile. Just know that one day you too may have to feed a picky eater and then you'll know the humble truth that a mom's job is just to stuff your child's gob with something that is affordable, healthy, and not necessarily glamorous. We're lucky we have so many choices--it's just that once you have a child, they start to make some of those choices for you, whether you like it or not. This is one of the first things you will learn about parenting, and it often occurs around the personality of your child's eating preferences. I do admire my son's stubborn individuality, but I just wish he'd eat my lasagne!