I. Need. Borscht.

As we know, there is an ebb and flow in all things. Like the moon. Or my interest in knitting. 

Cooking is certainly no exception to this rule - One miraculous day in the kitchen that left you feeling heady and dangerously creative turns into that legendary evening when someone actually lost a filling during the desert course of the dinner party because your caramel was too hard. Except they didn't tell you till a year later so as to delay your guilt.  

Yes, that actually happened… To a friend of mine I mean. Ahem.

A blog is no exception either - having its own set of ebbs and flows - periods of heightened imagination followed by awkward phases of transition and confused identity. I hate to say it, but we’ve been in a phase of the latter. 

You were thinking it too… Don’t lie.

Because you see a blog is certainly its own creative beast - it is has an identity, a character, an essence. With all these - ebbs and flows. Being the creator of the beast any phase of mine is, strangely enough, a phase of hers. An odd vulnerability. 

(Yes, I’ve found the blog is decidedly feminine).

Today my beast and I feel a need to re-identify ourselves. 

Re-cap, re-view

Re-orient to what its is we’re all following. So in an effort to do just that - here's my summary of the identity, the aim, the essence of this here beast of a blog. 

- This is a blog following the writing of a cookbook. A Mennonite cookbook to be exact. We started it with this.  Let’s not lose sight.

- That’s to say… this is a finite blog. Not one of those sorted soap operas, endlessly dragging out the drama of fava beans and pork belly.  When the book is done, the blog shall be done. Period. (Here's to hoping this won’t end in some Shakespearean tragedy where all inspiration lays bloodied by its own author, missing all its fillings.)

- Of course, there’s recipes along the way – the ones being tested for the book and then just the ones I really like, cause you get to do that when you're a blog/beast creator.

- Like any (potentially good) story this one has its characters: the women I glean wisdom from, a teacher, artists, the state of Kansas, friends, family, you dear readers, and there’s me. 

(Psstt… Stay tuned! A new and exciting character shall emerge quite soon!)

- The book’s aim is to be one of collaboration – with Mennonite artists – the visual kind, the savory and sweet kind, the pen and paper kind. 

- YOU, dear readers, are the intended audience and hopefully collaborators – so do speak up!… What do you want to know, learn, taste, smell? What do you want in your cookbook?

Now that we know where we all stand, I think it’s time to move forward out of this godforsaken ebb. 

However, let’s not deny the basic facts:

Today is an ebb.

Today is cold. And melancholy.

I am now 30.

And I. Need. Borscht.

Cabbage Borscht (w/o beets)

Adapted from my grandmother Joan Dreier from her days at Heritage Inn in Hesston, Kansas. 

I added the bone, bouquet garni, leek, and carrot. 

Yield: 4-6 servings

Ingredients: 

1 pound stew meat*

1 beef bone (optional)

1 bouquet garni**

1 carrot, cut in large chunks

1 small onion, diced

1 leek, white and pale green part only

4 small potatoes

1 small head of cabbage (preferably Savoy cabbage)

1/2 teaspoon dill

* Most butchers will have "stew meat" - beef cut in 1-2" cubes

** A bouquet garni is made with 4-5 sprigs of fresh parsley, 4 sprigs of thyme, and 1 bay leaf wrapped a stalk of celery.

1. In large pot cover stew meat with 1-2" of water. Add bone if you are using it. Add the bouquet garni and carrot, and bring to a boil. As soon as it is begins to boil, turn heat down to simmer, skimming the foam that rises to the surface. Simmer till the meat is nearly tender. This may take up to 2 hours - The longer it cooks, the more tender it will be. Once meat is done, remove and discard the bone. 

Note: I wanted a fairly clear broth so I poured the soup through a cheesecloth before adding veggies, which removed the impurities that came from the bone. 

2. Meanwhile, prepare the leek by cutting it in half lengthwise, rinsing, and slicing thinly. Heat a bit of olive oil in a medium saucepan and add the diced onion and leek. Turn heat to low, salt the veggies, and cover. Let cook till completely tender, then add them  to the soup. 

3. When meat is cooked to your desired tenderness, add the dill and diced potatoes. Simmer till potatoes are cooked through. 

4. Prepare the cabbage by quartering it, and cutting it into bite-sized pieces. Add the cabbage to the soup, and simmer till the cabbage is tender but still slightly crisp. 

Note: That sulfur smell from cabbage comes from cooking it on high heat. So simmer, simmer, simmer. 

5. And you're done!  Serve with a slice of hearty bread and for the love... chill out about the 30 thing. Also, leftovers are lovely. Enjoy!

The Other End of Change (Part 2): Here's to the Magicians

I had what I would call an incredibly enjoyable dinner last week with this woman whom I'd never met. We have a mutual friend in Portland who connected us as "women who used to live in Portland but now live in Santa Fe". It occurs to me how the categories of our identity surprisingly expand with each day. Sharing said category is most certainly a reason to have dinner with strangers. And enjoy them.

Among the twists and turns of our conversation, I saw her relax a bit - having recognized the cynic in me - and so with some degree of relief she divulged a fact about Santa Fe that had me belly laughing among my beets. "Everyone you meet here," she says, "will be one of the following:
1. Shaman
2. Practitioner of Soul Retrieval
3. Magician."
(Apparently, there's also the occasional fairy, as in a creator of fairy dust.)

I'm sorry if I've offended all you Soul Retrievers reading this, but I can be nothing if not myself. And seriously?... I don't even understand what soul retrieval means, nor could my new friend explain it. How can you have lost that in the first place? Oh Bless.

What I actually felt in the midst of all the magical talk though was... Relief and Admiration.  It occurs to me that this a place where I can, with at least some degree of confidence, announce: "I'm a writer" in the face of that dreaded question of "Sooo, what do you do?". Because after all, I'm not saying Soul Retriever and really... are the Magicians of Santa Fe shuddering in the face of that question? I think not!
Which is relieving somehow. And even a bit admirable.

See I'm about to turn 30 and I confess... it's freaking me out. Especially as I bashfully look back on the confused, maniacal state my professional life took on through my 20s. I mean I've been:
1. Medical Admin
2. Massage Therapist
3. Hint of a Public Speaker
4. Social Worker
5. Nanny

But throughout that odd list I felt a tug of heartstrings towards the kitchen and the pen, and now with some audacity I'm letting the flour and ink pull me along, facing this awkward phase in which professional questions feel just that...awkward. So I sincerely aspire to the 30s not being so friggin' maniacal. I might have to go get my soul retrieved if so.

Anyhow... What I mean to say is...
Here's to all the Santa Fean Magicians and Shamans and Soul Retrievers inspiring us Writers!
Here's to confidently stating what your heartstrings want you to state!

And I suppose I'll cheers to turning 30 soon.
Ok, Maybe. 

The writer and food enthusiast in me has taken to the details of this place (and of course the sky). A few photos for you based on that theme... 

a new driveway and old desert

of course... chiles donning the front porch greet us 

restart of a spice drawer thanks to the Santa Fe Spice Lady

supper for birds

On One End of Change (Part 1)

My kitchen (and in-home wifi!) in Santa Fe have been in working order for about 2 days now. So it would seem incredibly appropriate to write a post regarding the place of New Mexican chiles in Mennonite cuisine (maybe in that tiny room off to the left of the bierrocks), the color of the new stove (green!), or what my first food endeavor is here (chicken stock... clearly).

But I fully realize that there are things left undone for us. Namely the results of one very thrilling Freezer Challenge. I know you've just been sitting with bated breath for this day, for this news...You may exhale...

Along this freezer path, there were some bright, beautifully delicious moments - poetic memories smelling of earthy lamb in a Cassoulet, the texture of pure silk raw given by some fine Escolar in a Sushi Roll made with Joleen. Simmered and pureed Cherries for the most joyous of New Years' souffles (apologies but eating commenced and was completed before a camera was remembered).

The beginning of Cassoulet

And the end...

Joleen on Tuna

The aesthetics were a challenge. Joleen's roll fared much better!

Let us not forget the Cauliflower and Parsnip Soup (above) made with that smoky pork stock of my dreams. This is indeed in the Success category of all things.

And alas there were failures... In particular: one disgruntled Banana Bread and some Berries seemingly too ancient to even sketch a tale for themselves.
Oh and those Tortillas and Ricotta Cheese burnt with a freezer cold to their core.

Even with all the cutest of accoutrements I could muster, that Banana Bread I remember enjoying 5 years ago was a disappointing fare. As Joleen said, "Well, I'd eat it I guess." 

Even I have limits.

But mostly there were giveaways...
Green peas and Cherries and Ginger to Emily.
Leaf lard and Razor Clams and Turmeric to Janan.
Chocolate and Pear Sauce to Bill.

And really... What result could be more gratifying than a friend enjoying a meal (even in your absence) because of the fact that you needed to empty your freezer? The cold becomes the tie that binds.

On the Intersection of Rabbit and Justice

Last night's dinner conversation and doodle theme: Rabbits. Everyone got a turn. 

I’ve been puttering away on the keyboard, trying to devise a blog post for my successes and failures in the freezer category... 

Demolished Corn tortillas. Freezer Burnt Razor Clams. Mediocre Banana Bread. 

Heavenly Cassoulet with Lamb. The Freshest Tasting Pear Sauce. Chocolate. 

And then someone goes and steals my friends' rabbits. Since for the time being (the moving truck has been delayed) I still write a food blog in Portland I feel compelled to comment

If you haven't heard about this rabbit melodrama you can read about it here . A quick rundown in case you're not into the clicking... 18 rabbits were stolen from an urban farmer (though he does not call himself that) in Portland last Saturday night. Enter my friend Levi who you might remember from here or here or here. Levi also works as an instructor for the Portland Meat Collective. In fact there was a class on raising, slaughtering, and cooking rabbits scheduled for Sunday, the day after the theft. It's believed to be politically motivated, but ironically the thief left 10 nursing bunnies behind. All of which, without a lactating mother to be found, died on Sunday.

The media picked it up quickly (as did Portlandia...rumor has it) and so did a LOT of feverishly opinionated folks. The comment streams have blown up with some fascinating streams of consciousness, and I’m reminded of a particular lesson I learned once: That a violent act in and of itself is often not the most shocking thing, but rather the audience’s response to the violent act. I quote a comment here, "Enjoy your karma killers! Live by the sword, or slaughtering knife, die by the sword." Ouch. 

Maybe it's the Mennonite in me, but all effective dialogue seems to have ceased. Dialogue being one of the prime goals of Camas Davis, the Portland Meat Collective (PMC) brain. She provides a thought-provoking, wonderfully-articulate update here. 

To move away from the vegan vs. carnivore, PMC vs. vegetarians... I am stunned at the number of people who applaud the person who stole from my friends. Because politics aside, someone invaded their home. Stole something important to them. The sensation of home invasion is a gross one, and this instance is no exception.

I wonder about the role of culture in this dramatic plot line. The act of rearing animals for consumption in an urban context is not yet a normalized one I would argue. It seems that the reaction of disgust, dismay and anger is heightened when one sees a slaughter come from that distant farm and onto a neighbor's front porch. Even the animal itself is a thing to ponder... Eating rabbits is still somewhat of a cultural taboo at the moment (though they've been eaten by many cultures for centuries). So although rabbits are making a comeback on our menus, there is certainly still a "you're eating my dog" dynamic. I wonder if the reaction would the same around chickens (which have become much more normal for both eggs and slaughter in urban farming)? Cows? Pigs? Insert animal name here? 

But if one considers the elements of socialization and cultural relevance (among many other considerations I've not touched on) and is still in disgust, then by all means, express oneself. I'm an advocate for that. Yet would there not have been a better alternative? Is home invasion really the best route? 

Rather than go on a longer political diatribe about the ins and out, the rights and wrongs, and the ethics of eating animals, I thought a few questions might go a bit farther. Because questions are the birthplace of a conversation. A conversation in which crimes are not condoned, people are not damned, and disagreeing minds exhibit a respect where respect is not expected.

So have a coffee, a Zanax, whatever it is you need, sit down with that crazy carnivore/vegan/farmer/rabbit advocate and talk. Nonviolent rules apply.  

- Many of the comments in the discussion reference biblical passages and an opinion on what Jesus would do or say... what do you think Jesus would do or say?

- What would Miru Kim say? 

- Is the Portland Meat Collective in an exceptional position of vulnerability due to their position of transparency in the meat-eating process? If so, how should we as a community respond to that vulnerability? 

- Does the means justify the ends? (Interpret how you wish) 

I think I hear the moving truck. Back to that freezer... 

The Pig, the Puff, and the Pie of Portland...

I'm scrawling down these thoughts as I sit (gratefully) inside our well-heated car, awaiting Eric's exit from within the tire store. Apparently one should possess snow tires to cross the rockies in the middle of January so as to safely move from Portland to Santa Fe.

So I decide to wait (gratefully) inside our well-heated car and scrawl thoughts while he did quintessential manly things - like buy snow tires.

It's pouring rain in Portland for about the 4th day in a row, and I listen as the guy on the radio confidently announces, amidst trying to sell outdoor gear, that we are in fact in the middle of a Pacific Northwest winter.
You think? Genius that one is.

I check Santa Fe weather on my phone. (I got tech-saavy for Christmas)
A big fat yellow dot plops itself on my screen. Part smiley. Part snarky...
The sun.
It still exists!
All the way across the Rockies.

Now I fully recognize that this here blog has had its own bit of a holiday vacation. It was all, "I need to sleep in, take a hot bath, and probably buy a Christmas tree or something." Low blow. Who can argue with Christmas? I surrendered - Vacation it had.

Christmas Tree 2011

I also fully recognize that this here blog has deviated a bit from its intended path - the making of a Mennonite cookbook. Partly out of its own (and mine) organic evolution, partly out of that fantastically fun French cooking course, and maybe partly out of that lil' decision to move cross country with the author's man.

But rest assured dear readers, 2012 will surely beckon us back on track! The desert pulls at the writer in me, and thus I declare...
There shall be a book! (or at least part of one) There shall be a hunt for a publisher, book proposals, decisions on recipes, interviews, probably a few chiles (cause you know... when in Rome), and a Mennonite Writer's Conference. Seems audacious doesn't it? I figure you, dear readers, will help keep me on track.

Meanwhile however, Portland is not leaving me wanting. And my attempts to revel in it are going quite well...

The sis Sarah came in for a visit!  Certainly there was a need for pizza (duh) and among other treats - the Chicken and Rice cart. It's so good you don't even mind eating off a newspaper stand, next to a parked car, in the freezing cold.

I then got in on the handiwork of an in-home pig butchery with some folks from the The Collective, Portland Meat Collective and The Farm. Thanks be to Bubba who raised the pig on many hazelnuts and much love!

Amidst the rush, I planned a much-needed moment of solitude at Breitenbush, one of my favorite spots in Oregon. I had to go back one last time - for the drive, the soak, the hike, the sauna. And of course that yummy, hippie, free-range, vegan lunch! 

A weekend with the girls to celebrate: a birthday, a pregnancy, a departure, surprise guests, and the Oregon coast...

photo by Emily Shirk Birky

photo by Emily Shirk Birky

A Goodbye Party with a Grapefruit Cake Disaster:

Salvaged Grapefruit Cake Bites:

Solstice Dinner with my first-ever attempt at Puff Pastry... 

photo by Janan Markee

They puffed!!!!

Janan, who has spent some time next to a Kenyan woman at a Kenyan stove, taught me the art of chapatis... It's all in the roll, the flip, and the fat. Yumm!!

And finally... my family, even from afar, celebrates Christmas with a Secret Santa Gift Exchange (though it's never all that secret-y by the end... surprises have never been our strong suit). 

Sister Jenny blessed me with a beautiful cookbook, which I immediately put to use on a Christmas Apple Tart. 

Thanks Alice and Jenny. I mean... Secret Santa... ahem. 

photo by Sarah Boyts Yoder

Happy New Years Dear Readers! 

Thanks for seeing 2011 close alongside me... 

Love love, 

Katie

Pizza! (and the frozen mozzarella cheese)

The Mozzarella Cheese from Freezer Challenge at work

As it turns out... you can freeze mozzarella cheese!

You can make lasagna for a friend who is about to have a baby.

You can have leftover mozzarella cheese from said lasagna, and then realize you are going out of town the next day, dreading the idea that this pricey cheese shall mold in the frig while you're away.

You can say to yourself, "Self, throw that block o' goodness in the freezer. I don't know if that'll work or not... but we may as well try." (Your Mennonite great grandmother cheers from the beyond and your vacation is all the more relaxing - knowing that cheese is safe.)

And it ends up... months later, you can thaw that frozen cheese, shred it, toss it on a homemade pizza, and serve it to some very happy guests.

Sister Sarah was in town... lovin' on Lucy, eatin' on pizz!

Bonus: Pizza night is great for putting guests to work... Make their own!

And then have them cut it! Thanks Levi!

A few tips on your Pizza:
1. Make your own dough! I use that Bittman recipe I just linked... super easy and delish. Make sure to prebake it for a few minutes as this will help make an evenly and thoroughly-cooked crust.

2. Don't overwhelm the pizza with too many different ingredients. Your mouth gets all confused and can't appreciate each precious one. I clearly lost inhibition and went a little crazy on the above, but my favorite combo: Proscuitto, Caramelized Onion, Mushroom

3. Cook the veggies beforehand. Since pizzas don't bake for very long, the veggies won't render their ultimate flavor. Sooo... caramelize sliced onions in olive oil and butter. Do a dry saute of the mushrooms. Roast those red peppers.

4. Resist over-herbing your tomato sauce. Over-herbing (yes, it can be a verb) takes away from the other flavors. The best sauce I've found is supremely simple: A large can of those peeled, whole tomatoes - squeezed in my hands, salted, and tossed on the crust.

5. Freeze leftover mozzarella cheese!

6. For dessert, serve that Breyer's vanilla ice cream atop Simply in Season's Fruit Crisp.

So with that we can say...
Mozzarella Cheese
Breyer's Ice Cream (it's only halfway through its life)

Enjoy!

My Freezer and the Challenge of Black Bananas

The moving date is pretty much set. January 10th(ish) - I'm choosing to be hopelessly optimistic.

So one should begin to think about packing - sorting, sifting, Goodwilling, boxing, trashing. (Should being the operative word here.) And even the kitchen is grounds for some editing and rewriting during the transition. I'm thinking the extra wok I've had in the back of the cabinet for sentimental reasons should probably be the first to go.

And then there is the freezer, chock full of memories, mistakes, surprising treasures, crap loads of future banana bread. Although it would be tempting to push this stash to the far reaches of my already-cluttered mind, and then just heave all of the tasty contents into the trash bin on moving day. Alongside those old gym shorts... That would not be very Mennonite of me.

Thou shall not waste. 
Wash your plastic bags. 
Turn leftovers into casseroles. 
Scrape the mold off that cheese. 
Put that black banana in the freezer. Again. 
Despite my elbow in the rib here it's something I really value about the Mennonite faith adn community - the tenet that one should never take for granted what one has, including in the freezer, and heaving anything in one's trash should be an intentional and thoughtful choice. Like the gym shorts - thoughtful and intentional.

Black Bananas are no exceptions.

So clearly I thought to myslef... "Self... This calls for a Freezer Challenge!"  I shall use every last thing in that intimidating freezer before I depart on January 10th(ish).
Here's my contents so far:

- Cherries
- Pears
- White beans - from that soup
- Mixed berries - from waaayyy too long ago
- 10 bananas - duh
- Shredded coconut
- Nectarines
- Breyer's ice cream
- 1 pint of Lovely's Fifty Fifty caramel ice cream - which was a dreamy surprise and so obviously has since been eaten! 
- Little squares of lime juice - from that time I bought far too many limes and couldn't bear the thought of not using the juice. Juice those suckers and freeze in ice cube trays.
- Corn tortillas - Uuuhhh.... really Katie?
- Masa - from tamales night with Janan
- Some meat from Gartner's that I didn't know was there - Question: Should one consume a meat of unknown origin? Discuss. 
- Dried red peppers
- Red chile peppers
- Galanga root
- Ginger
- Turmeric - a Cambodian theme emerges
- Lamb - Score!
- Razor clams - From Flying Fish... Another score!
- Green peas - Not sure about this one... I don't even really like peas.
- Pork stock - From this here pig-  This is where it gets interesting.
- Escolar - Flying Fish's 2nd appearance... Sushi night is calling.
- Crushed tomatoes
- Mozzarella cheese - I'm not actually sure you can successfully save mozzarella this way, but again... it was throw it out or freeze it. I couldn't bear the thought...
- Ricotta cheese - same as with the mozz
- Leaf lard - A hear a pie in our future.
- Cafe Umbria coffee beans - I know, I know... Don't freeze your coffee beans. What was I supposed to do? 
- Chocolate - From the wonderland that is Sheridan's.  

That be all. I must admit I'm a bit fearful of this task, but I'll keep you updated. Wish me luck...

It shall all be gone come January 10th(ish)

Uncle Virg's Custom Roasting Sticks

Yesterday was a good day - one of those days that just lingers by nonchalantly, not dramatic or extreme, just quietly sweet and pleasant...
Sunny skies in Portland
Keturah's sugar cookies in the oven
Engaging guest for dinner
Exciting box from the mailman...

Within that box and its many layers of cardboard, masking tape, duct tape and padding were the White's Custom Roasting Sticks we'd ordered, our names imprinted in the coffee-colored birch!
Katie B.
Eric
(and maybe a few gifts for some unsuspecting roasting-loving friends).

You see last week in Kansas, during our Thanksgiving visit, we quite wisely decided to invest in the

beauties which are handcrafted by my very own Uncle Virg White (pictured below). He is surely a food artist if I've ever seen one. 

The exciting delivery from the mailman

And maybe I shouldn't be making unsolicited plugs for my families' handicrafts, but what with the holiday gifting season, and what with the birch's photographic tendency, and what with my adoration of all things family and food-related.... it just makes sense.

  

Patiently awaiting their leather loop

Each roasting stick gets a pin in the map... One more for Portland (or Santa Fe)

Our family has the tradition of big bonfires surrounded by stick-wielding hungry folks, asking for the flames to do their job on the meal. Virg began making his roasting sticks simply for these occasions, but word got out about their quality and voila... White's Custom Roasting Sticks! 

Like I said... sunny, glistening skies in Portland. 

You can order yours here - custom made of course. Enjoy!