What’s for supper? Vol. 482: Not my problem

Hello! Happy Friday! Happy DEFINITELY RECOVERING NOW day to me! 

My brain tumor craniotomy was nine days ago, and it went very well. I’ll share some medical details next, for those who find such things interesting!

They removed a piece of skull, detached as much of the tumor as possible, leaving only “a nubbin” the size of a grain of rice; reattached the skull bit with some titanium discs and hardware, and stapled my head back up with 41 staples. They also put in a lumbar drain to lower spinal fluid pressure during the procedure, and that needed to be stitched up. I had needles throughout my scalp during surgery to monitor brain activity, and I had a complex rig on my arm to track my blood pressure directly from my arteries. The surgery took about four-and-a-half hours,  and I either did or did not have a seizure during it (the notes are confusing!), but I’ve been on medication to keep that from happening or happening again. I was in the ICU for three days and then moved to the regular neurology wing for another two days. I am still waiting to hear on the pathology report, but I am expecting confirmation the tumor was benign, and I may not even need radiation for what remains. 

I am so, so glad to be home. Recovery has been one step forward, two steps back. The pain level is gradually receding, and so is the amount of time it feels really bad each day; and the nerves on the left side of my face are slowly waking up. My left eye, which wasn’t acting right because of the tumor, is totally functional again. I can’t really chew yet, but luckily I have always been a big fan of soft foods, so I’m having all the gruel, beans, and smoothies I want. I am just feeling a little, little bit more like myself every day, for better or for worse! 

I haven’t been accomplishing a single thing. I’m trying to walk around the yard once or twice a day to keep away blood clots and whatnot. My friend Sadie came over when I got home, and she got us set up with a medication schedule and tracking system, and spent the night to make sure we were all okay. One of the kids’ teachers sent home some delicious quiche and salad and bread and butter. The kids have all been pitching in, and Damien took the kids back-to-school shopping and has been getting everyone to school and work on time, keeping me supplied with hot packs and cold packs and endless pillows and drinks, and just basically making sure my body and mind are completely at rest while he takes care of everything. A ton of people sent donations to help us pay for all the gas and meds and to make it possible for Damien to care for me and the kids without getting in too much of a pickle, and we REALLY appreciate that, and all the prayers and words of encouragement.

I feel so incredibly lucky to know so many generous and helpful people. At the hospital, I met a few folks (Jennifer and Paul. Please remember them in your prayers!) who just don’t have anything like this level of support. All of the nurses were nice and caring, and a few of them were really extraordinary. It’s a great hospital, and again, I feel really lucky. And happy to be home. Because even a really good hospital kind of sucks. 

There were a couple of times when the pain and fear really overwhelmed me (specifically, in the immediate post-surgery MRI, and one of my first evenings at home), and you know, at a certain point the jokes and lessons and well-expressed thoughts run out, and you’re just up against the wall with suffering, and the only thing to hang onto is the hope Jesus is there somewhere. Some of you guys end up in this spot a lot, and I am just in awe of you. 

I also gotta say, I do not see the appeal of oxycodone. I am glad I have it, because it makes the pain manageable, but everything else it does sucks, and I’m really looking forward to getting off it. There’s no joy in it at all; it just tucks normal human experience up on a high shelf where you can’t touch it. 

I’m supposed to get my staples and stitches out on September 3, and then I have another MRI in October. In the mean time, I have an actual metal question mark traced out on the side of my head, which just seems fair. I must say, the surgeon did a neat job doing a rather cute undercut, so my hair actually looks pretty normal. I may go to Supercuts and get the them to shave a matching pattern on the other side! Or maybe I will just have some more bean soup. 

And that’s my story! Thank you so much to everyone who has reached out. I am praying for you all!

 

 

What’s for supper? Vol. 481: Free to be… you, a bee

Happy Friday! Today’s post will be largely about the treehouse I’m building, but with a surprising amount of food. Well, I was surprised, anyway.

Here’s what we had: 

SATURDAY
Leftover delite

We stopped at a few yard sales while we were out shopping, and didn’t find much, but then someone was giving away these gorgeous strawberry pots! Terra cotta, or at least some kind of clay, and not plastic. 

I have two well-rooted pineapple tops that I may plant in the main opening, and maybe the rest can be hen and chicks or whatever it’s called. Just yesterday I found out you’re supposed to pull off the dry leaves from your succulents as they grow, and WOW is it satisfying.

Shopping turn kid chose Hot Pockets, and why not? I had one, plus leftover Korean beef bowl and rice, and a little pesto pasta for a vegetable. 

My mental state was such that I got Corrie a kid’s meal from Wendy’s, and when I saw the toy, I teared up because it was just so beautiful. 

Here is the toy: 

Well, I guess that would be more my emotional state than my mental state. Unless you mean “mental” like the British use it. Tra la la!

SUNDAY
Chicken caprese sandwiches

Sunday after Mass, we were planning to go check out a waterfall that’s nearby that we’ve never seen before, but we were all feeling kind of gross and exhausted an unambitious. So I mixed up a big tank of sugary frozen coffee in the slushy machine and then tackled the treehouse before I lost momentum. 

I wanted to start on the floor, but realized I should really install corner posts first, so they could be attached to the inside of the frame, rather than the outside. I had already done the two on the more accessible side, but, due to last week’s knuckleheadery, I had made it nearly impossible for myself to get up topside to do the other two. Damien is much narrower than me, though, so he got up there and attached the remaining two posts. 

Even though he doesn’t like heights and had a sinus infection. How lovely on . . . the treehouse are . . . the feet of him . . . who bangs good nails . . . bangs good nails! [sorry, I was briefly in a Baptist choir in high school, and that one stuck]. 

Then I started laying the floor! First I put down all the long planks that I could, on either side of the tree, and that was so gratifying, because it got easier and easier to BE up there, the more floor I installed.

Then . . . I was not sure what to do. 

Wood is straight, but tree is curved?? What do???

After much consideration, and after discarding many insane ideas, I fetched a roll of brown paper and sort of wadded it around the tree, and stapled it in place.

Then I carefully cut around the tree, and noted a bunch of measurements.

Then I pulled up the paper, laid out my wood back in the yard, and re-stapled the paper to the wood, and traced the shape of the tree onto it.

If I’m making this sound efficient and sensible, I’m telling it wrong. Just imagine me getting sweater and sweatier, getting innumerable splinters in my hands and legs, and startling the little forest creatures with my profanities as I repeatedly forgot the [whatever} either back in the yard, or up in a tree, or, if I were up in the tree, at the bottom of the tree. 

So clearly all I had to do was cut out the tree shape. I thought long and hard about how I don’t have a jigsaw, and how much of a problem that really was. What I do have is a circular saw and a reciprocating saw, and one of those little Japanese hand saws. So I tried this and that, and it got pretty ugly, but the best technique I hit on was just to make lots and lots of straight cuts into the curve,

and then knock the pieces out, then cut them as smooth as possible with the hand saw.

It was THE WORST. I mean it worked, but it was so terrible. I did as much as I could (which was one board)

before I lost the will to live (which happens around 7 p.m. in these parts), and then I remembered dinner. Happily, earlier in the day, I roasted some chicken breasts, cut up a bunch of basil, and made a balsamic vinegar reduction. 

Oh dang, wait, I think I also made cheese. Elijah was over and was interested in learning how to make mozzarella, so we made it together. By which I mean he was shouting instructions to me over the noise of the slushie machine, and well, something got lost in translation, and I dumped the rennet mixture in at the wrong stage, so it immediately turned into lumpy curds, rather than being one single block that needed to be chopped up. I predicted that we’d get cheese, just very grainy cheese, and I was right. 

It was like if ricotta tried to turn into mozzarella but gave up halfway through. It tasted fine; it was just grainy! Like I said. 

I was also determined not to overboil the balsamic vinegar, because last time I made it, it turned out way too thick. So this time, I overboiled it and it turned out way too thick. I ended up having to gouge it out of the gravy boat and kind of lay it on my sandwich like it was a ganache. 

STILL DELICIOUS. Also I was freaking starving by the time I sat down to eat. 

MONDAY
Chicken enchilada(?) bowls

Monday I spent a big part of the day putting in the treehouse floor. Some of the curves I had to cut were really quite curvy, and the process was completely ridiculous. I kept making inquiries on Marketplace about cheap jigsaws for sale, and finally made plans to pick up one in the evening on Monday. I figured I would do what I could until then, and then use the actual proper tool, when I got it, to clean up my work.

Not that you could possibly improve on craftsmanship like this.

The good news is, I only had to do it eight times. Anyway, I kept at it and kept at it, and I got all the pieces cut and installed. And it actually looked pretty good! I left some room for the tree to grow. 

At some point during the day, I took some chicken leg quarters, pulled off the skins, and seasoned them heavily with . . . I don’t know, garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, paprika, salt, pepper, and chili powder; and then I cooked them slowly in oil in a pan. Then I cut the meat off the bone and put it back in the pan with a bottle of this stuff

because darn it, I miss cilantro. I always think I don’t eat enough leafy greens, but I must, because trying to summer cook without them is really difficult! Bah. 

Anyway, I made a pot of rice and dug up some shredded pepper jack cheese and sour cream, and we had quite yummy chicken rice bowls. 

Looks like we had beans, too. I guess I put some kidney beans and diced tomatoes in a pot with … I don’t know. Mexican things. They were yummy. 

That evening, before picking up Lucy, I went to get that jig saw, and the dude couldn’t find it. I had to laugh, because I always think I’m the only one who does stuff like that! But no jig saw for me, very sad. But honestly the hole I cut was not half bad. 

One really cute thing that happened was I had labelled the boards with letters so I would know what order the went it, and I added an arrow so I would know which way was downstream. So I’m working outside, and this bee comes around and, well

That oughta clear up a few things around here. 

TUESDAY

Tuesday, I really don’t know what we ate. I do remember going to Home Depot, AGAIN, with this magnificently lucid list

which is written on a piece torn off a box of nails. I stared at the bolts for a really long time before deciding not to get any, which is what usually happens when I got to buy bolts. Then I just got a whole bunch more wood. 

And Tuesday I started to work on the railing. This is where my confidence in the whole project really took a nosedive.

 

The railing is more sturdy than it looks, because it is nailed into the inside of the frame, and the floor is built around it. Buttttt it’s still not as sturdy as I would like, especially when I think about, you know, people who are eleven and maybe have some issues with impulse control. And physics. So I just kind of kept adding more and more reinforcements, and going on a kind of roller coaster of confidence and despair as I went. Which I always enjoy. 

Ah! Irene reminded me we had bratwurst on Tuesday. I asked Damien to grill it, and I served it with the pickled peppers and onions I made last week. They got pickled good!

In the evening, I suddenly remembered I had a garden. Yipes! It had been raining off an on, so nothing was too horribly dried out, but it was not happy. So I gave everything a good soaking, and deadheaded a bunch of flowers and did this and that. My carrot patch is absurd. I DID thin it, but not nearly enough, and now we have ten thousand bushy-topped, threadlike carrots all competing for a few square feet of space.

Corrie sees absolutely no problem with this, so I guess there is no problem!

And I picked a bunch of eggplants! I have a few ichiban plants, which make long, thin eggplants, and a bunch of — okay, I forget what they are. They are streaky purple and white, and they’re producing like crazy, which makes me happy. 

That night, the kids made s’mores while I stayed inside and melded into my bed. 

WEDNESDAY
Pork gyros, stuffed grape leaves, fried eggplant

Wednesday, you’ll never guess, I worked on the treehouse. But first I did a bunch of prep for supper. I really wanted to use the eggplant, and also make some stuffed grape leaves before the grape leaves start to get tough. So obviously it was GYRO TIME. I made a marinade and cut up a pork butt into thin pieces, and set that marinating. Here is that recipe (oh yeah, this is a food post!)

Jump to Recipe

Then I sent Corrie out to pick me a 40 grape leaves and 40 mint leaves. We blanched the grape leaves in salted water, and I decided we’d do cheater grape leaves, with leftover, already-cooked rice. I put some fresh mint a dill and some diced red onion in a pot with a bunch of sumac, salt and pepper, butter, olive oil, and oregano, and warmed that up a bit, and then mixed in the rice. Then Corrie just went ahead and made forty grape leaves!

When she was done, I put them in the slow cooker with water and lemon juice, and let that go. Then I made some yogurt sauce and cut up all the eggplants, salted the slices, and laid them between paper towels to dry out a bit. I also mixed up the dry part of the batter for the eggplant. 

I spent a good part of the day building a reinforcing the railing. Then, when it got close to supper time, I started some spicy french fries cooking, and when they were almost done, I took the meat out of the marinade and spread it on a pan, and roasted it. 

Then I added the oil and water to the batter mix for the eggplants. Here is my recipe for fried eggplant. 

Jump to Recipe

I really love this recipe. It seems mild at first, but the warm spiciness sneaks up on you; and the texture is wonderful. It puffs up and then crisps, and in the time it takes for the outside to get crunchy, the inside (the actual eggplant) practically melts. Aghh, so good. 

Most of the eggplant I was cooking was baby eggplant, so it was just penny-sized, and let me tell you, that was a pain in the neck to dredge in batter and drop into oil. I burned the hell out of my fingers several times. WORTH IT.

You give it a little sprinkle with kosher salt while it’s still piping hot, and it’s amazing. 

So we had an actual two-course meal: Fried eggplant and stuffed grape leaves with garlic yogurt sauce: 

and then gyros, with pork, tomatoes, cucumbers, spicy fries, feta, and more yogurt sauce, hot sauce, and more fresh mint leaves. I did store bought pita because I know my limits! More or less!

I wished, as I always do when I make this meal, that I had set aside some of the marinade before I put the meat in, to use as a dipping sauce for the eggplant. Maybe next time. And I kind of wished I had made the grape leaves with parboiled rice, because they had gotten rather mushy. But these are minor complaints. It was a fantastic meal, and I was very pleased with myself and with Corrie. 

At some point during the day, I made some ice cream, because Corrie was having some friends over the next day. I made one batch of coffee ice cream, which is just the sweet cream base (two eggs, 3/4 cup sugar, one cup of milk, two cups of heavy cream) plus two tablespoons of freeze dried instant coffee churned in, plus a third tablespoon stirred in after churning. I also dumped in half a bag of mini chocolate chips. 

For the second batch, Corrie asked if I could make purple cow ice cream, which is raspberry with chocolate and white chocolate chunks. I could try! I started off making raspberry ice cream, but didn’t have quite enough raspberries, so I went into the yard and found a very small handful of wild blackberries and some blueberries from our poor neglected bush. Still not quite enough, so I dumped in the last of the strawberry rhubarb compote from last week’s cheesecake. So it was raspberry-blueberry-blackberry-strawberry-rhubarb flavored. I churned it and then added the rest of the mini chocolate chips and half a bag of white chocolate chips. (I pre-freeze any add-ins while the ice cream is churning, so they don’t melt when I add them.) 

THURSDAY
Burgers, chips, fruit salad, ice cream cones

Thursday in the morning, I went and got a NEW (to me) SACRAMENT! Anointing of the sick. Surgery is next Thursday, so we’re getting down to it. I like our new pastor a lot, and it turns out he has a DOG. This dog was so incredibly overjoyed to see us, she bounced straight up in the air like a toy on a spring. I’ve never seen anything like it. Well, Sonny bounces like that sometimes, but he’s proportioned so oddly, it has a different effect. Anyway, I got anointed, and I got to meet a nice dog, and had a good talk with the pastor, and it was a very good way to start the day. 

I went out to assess the treehouse, and decided the railing was about as strong as it was going to be without some major additions, and Clara’s boyfriend is going to come over on Sunday and tell me if it needs any major additions, or I’m just being crazy. I did want to add something to function as a sort of net, to prevent people from accidentally slithering through the railing to their death below.

But also, I truly, ardenty, profoundly did not want to spend any more money on this friggin thing. 

So we went to the pumpkin patch, which I fenced in early on to keep the ducks out. Actually, it was really the flower patch on the other side that I was hoping to keep the ducks out of. Pumpkins are pretty hardy even when they’re just little sprouts, but I really had high hopes for this spot. Remember this? 

I was imagining a glorious blaze of color as a carpet of brilliant flowers sprung up right outside my bedroom window. Well, in just two short months, with constant attention, that plain bare soil has been transformed into

. . . this.

Not a flower in sight. I think there are two little purple thingies in there somewhere. The rest is all just bullshit that was already growing there, but now it’s growing better because I tore out blackberries and Virginia creepers, and composted it. Hooray! The good news is, there are several tomatoes plants in there that seeded themselves, presumably from the compost, and they’re doing great! Whatcha gonna do. Gardens, man. 

Anyway, what I was saying was that I actually put up the fence to keep the ducks out of the flower patch; but since there are clearly not going to be flowers, I figured I might as well use that fencing (which I got on the side of the road anyway). So I started to disentangle it from the pumpkin vines. I had to cut two pumpkins off, which is a bit of a shame, but oh well. Then I found one last pumpkin, and that procedure was a bit more involved. 

Poor thing! I ended up gradually bending the wire just enough so we could push the pumpkin out, and it did finally pop out, no episiotomy necessary. We’ll see if it rots or heals. Poor pumpkin. Poor everyone. 

I also found Tulip, one of our Pekins who has been disappearing for large swaths of the day and every night. I figured she must have a nest, and I was right. I don’t know how many eggs she has, because she was pretty furious that I found her, and I don’t need any of that action. Ducks, man. 

SO ANYWAY, so then I had some fencing! Not quite enough to go all the way around the three sides, but I was able to patch it with some cattle fencing from a failed grape arbor project. I stapled it in place and then pinned it down with all the 1×4’s and leftover bits of 2×4 I could find.

At this point I had come to feel extremely awful about the whole project. All I could think about was children tumbling down out of the sky onto the rocks below, with any survivors being swept downstream and ultimately nibbled to death by ducks.

And that is how I knew it was time to quit for the day. Also I was out of wood. 

Corrie’s friends came over and played in the pool until the inevitable rain came, and then Damien cooked burgers, and I made a little fruit salad with watermelon, grapes, and nectarines. 

I opened the second jar of refrigerator pickles, and whew, they had just gotten more vicious! I am so pleased with these pickles. I love a good snarly pickle. Woof!

The ice cream was also a big hit. 

I didn’t have any because I put chocolate it all of it, but the kids proclaimed the multi-berry one my best ice cream yet, so that was nice! 

FRIDAY
??Tuna

This morning I went to see the treehouse, and you know what? That sumbitch is really strong and stable. Maybe I will have to put some posts under two corners to make it stronger, but maybe I won’t. Probably I’ll get some kind of specialized metal reinforcement pieces and bang those on, and that will be that. Moe offered to go to Home Depot for me to get the last little bits of wood I need to secure the wire fence, plus two extra 2×4’s just because (because you never have enough 2×4’s) and then I just need to add a kind of sill to attach the ladder to, and then it will be . . . .done? Maybe? For now?

Well, they’re about to cut my head open, so I guess I’m right up at the end of this project, whether it’s done or not! Tomorrow we are going to Rhode Island to visit my niece and maybe swim in the ocean if we can. Right now I gotta get to adoration, and then I’m going to ask this cute guy with pretty eyes and long legs to take me out to dinner. He’s been hanging around a lot lately, and I think he likes me! Wish me luck. 

Marinade for pork gyros

Marinate thinly-sliced meat for several hours, then grill over the coals or broil in the oven. Serve wrapped up in pita with cucumbers, tomatoes, french fries, hot sauce, and yogurt sauce. This marinade is enough for about five pounds of meat. 

Ingredients

  • 4 medium tomatoes diced and smashed a bit
  • 2 onions grated
  • 2 Tbsp oregano (or a large handful of fresh oregano, chopped)
  • 1/2 cup olive oil
  • 3/4 cup lemon juice
  • 2 Tbsp paprika
  • 12 cloves garlic, crushed or minced
  • kosher salt and pepper

 

Fried eggplant

You can salt the eggplant slices many hours ahead of time, even overnight, to dry them before frying.

Ingredients

  • 3 medium eggplants
  • salt for drying out the eggplant

veg oil for frying

3 cups flour

  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 1 Tbsp cumin
  • 1 Tbsp paprika
  • 1 Tbsp red pepper flakes
  • 2-1/2 cups water
  • 1 Tbsp veg oil
  • optional: kosher salt for sprinkling

Instructions

  1. Cut the ends off the eggplant and slice it into one-inch slices.
    Salt them thoroughly on both sides and lay on paper towels on a tray (layering if necessary). Let sit for half an hour (or as long as overnight) to draw out some of the moisture. 

  2. Mix flour and seasonings in a bowl, add the water and teaspoon of oil, and beat into a batter. Preheat oven for warming. 

  3. Put oil in heavy pan and heat until it's hot but not smoking. Prepare a tray with paper towels.

  4. Dredge the eggplant slices through the batter on both sides, scraping off excess if necessary, and carefully lay them in the hot oil, and fry until crisp, turning once. Fry in batches, giving them plenty of room to fry.

  5. Remove eggplant slices to tray with paper towels and sprinkle with kosher salt if you like. You can keep them warm in the oven for a short time.  

  6. Serve with yogurt sauce or marinara sauce.

What’s for supper? Vol. 480: Peter Piper, meet Mike Mulligan

Happy Friday! I just want to say thank you to so many people who were so kind and sympathetic about my dumb ocean scare the other week. It’s crazy that it’s something that it’s such an incredibly common experience, but it was still genuinely traumatic. It really got to me. But I have been feeling SO much more myself this week, and I appreciate your prayers and kindness so very much. Basically I decided I am not going to die this month, or even this year, and then the world went back to being beautiful again, which was a relief. 

I was going through my camera roll and was surprised at how much nice food we had this week! Although I leaned pretty heavily into watermelon as safe produce. Could be worse. Leaning into watermelon sounds so cool and refreshing, doesn’t it? 

SATURDAY
Leftovers and pizza pockets

Just a regular shopping day during the day, as far as I can remember. The shopping turn kid chose Hot Pockets for a frozen food supplement to the leftovers. Looks like I had one of those, plus pulled pork, and yes, watermelon.

At some point I cut up a bunch of strawberries and put them in a pot with the rhubarb I harvested last week, and I made a compote.

I knew this was the prettiest it was gonna look, because my rhubarb plant doesn’t turn red, so when you cook it, it always goes dull in color. I may violate one of my stupider principles and add a few drops of red food coloring next time. 

Then I made a cheesecake! I have backed away from selling cheesecake for the time being, but I figured I might as well make one for my own dang family for once. I layered cheesecake batter and compote, and then swirled it with a skewer and baked it. Turned out purty. 

Put that in the fridge to chill and went to bed. 

SUNDAY
Bacon egg cheese sandwiches, hash browns; strawberry rhubarb cheesecake

Sunday after Mass, I picked all the cucumbers I could find in my garden. I honestly thought growing cucumbers was a no-brainer, but it turns out you need to use at least a little bit of your brain. And I did not do that. So this is my first cuke harvest:

Apparently the shape indicates that they are low on potassium(?), or else there was some kind of pollination problem. But what is life for if not for giggling over cucumbers?

I had that dill-infused vinegar I started two weeks ago

I sliced up most of the cucumbers, except for the two round ones, and more or less followed this recipe for refrigerator pickles. And YES, I used dill, garlic, and cucumbers from my garden, AS PLANNED. I cut them into chips, rather than spears, because burgers were on the menu later in the week. They looked very promising!

Although in retrospect, I could have packed them a lot tighter. 

I still had some vinegar left over (you mix it with water to make the brine), so I sliced up . . . now wait a minute. I was going to say “leftover peppers,” but it looks like I didn’t actually cook any peppers until Monday. Well, clearly I am confused, so let’s just put a pin in this for the moment.

One thing I did definitely do on Sunday was repair the grape arch that got knocked down in a rainstorm. It was one of those cheapy metal arches, and it just collapsed. 

People kept walking on my grapes and it was stressing me out so much! So I cut down a bunch of saplings and thin branches, stripped off the leaves and twigs, and zip tied the heck out of them, to make a new arch. Then I cut down a few more branches and twisted them around the whole thing and zip tied that to itself. In theory, as it dries out, it will just become stronger. So far, so good. 

I spent the rest of Sunday finishing adding diagonal braces to Corrie’s treehouse. They each had to be cut slightly differently, and even when I put a ladder in the stream, I couldn’t reach the two corners on the far end, so Damien nailed in the ones I couldn’t reach. We also added a sister joist to one that came up a bit short, and I attached four hurricane ties. 

Her Corgnoness was pleased with our work. 

And at this point, the platform was officially strong enough to hold my weight! That’s what I kept telling myself, and everyone else. 

For supper, we had toasted bagels, fried eggs, bacon, and cheese sandwiches, with hash browns and OJ. 

Breakfast for dinner eaten outside after swinging a hammer all afternoon is incredible. I should write a cookbook pairing recipes with activities, for peak enjoyment. 

Oh, and then we had the cheesecake! It was very nice. I think I underbaked it a tiny bit, or maybe it was just that the compote destabilized it a little bit. It was good, though, and I got to use my portion marker I got at the thrift store (one of these dealios). Not really necessary for family use, but it’s a handy thing to have if I ever want to sell an evenly-portioned cheesecake. 

We had the cake with more strawberry rhubarb compote ladled over the top

See, just not the most picture-perfect dessert ever! But it was good, and I was pleased with myself for thinking ahead to have a nice dessert ready.

MONDAY
Spicy chicken sandwiches, pesto pasta, watermelon

Okay, so MONDAY was the day I cooked peppers and therefore had leftover peppers to pickle. I made those spicy chicken sandwiches with pepper and cheese from Sip and Feast, except I had bell peppers instead of shishito peppers. Which is fine, except I forgot they take FOREVER to cook on the stovetop. They’re just so much heftier than shishito peppers. To speed up cooking, I squashed them down using the pan full of chicken and cheese, and that worked out fine because it kept the chicken warm. 

The peppers eventually cooked through, and they sure looked pretty in the evening sun 

So the sandwiches are spicy chicken thighs, peppers, raw red onion, American cheese, and BBQ sauce on a toasted roll. Really delicious. 

Oh, I forgot, I made a quickie pesto with basil from the garden. And garlic from the garden! I just threw a ton of basil into the food processor with some cloves of garlic, a bunch of parmesan cheese, some olive oil, and pepper. I was gonna throw some nuts in there (you can use any kind of nuts for pesto; it doesn’t have to be pine nuts), but, I don’t know, it was hot and I gave up looking. The pasta salad was delicious anyway, very green and pungent. 

And more watermelon! 

TUESDAY
Korean beef bowl, rice, sesame broccoli 

Tuesday was crazy busy. Two appointments, and a ton of errands, including multiple pharmacies, and I also bought a used fire escape ladder from someone off Marketplace. This will be for the treehouse. I think I may have also gone to Home Depot. Seems likely.

I made supper super fast when I finally got home. Here’s my Korean Beef Bowl recipe

Jump to Recipe

I was tempted to use powdered ginger and garlic to speed things up, but I haven’t made this dish in a long time and I wanted it to be good, so I went for the fresh stuff, and it’s so worth it. 

I also cut up some broccoli and roasted it quickly in the oven with sesame oil, soy sauce, sesame seeds, and pepper. This dish really wants chopped scallions on top, but not These Days. I was kicking myself for not having some scallions growing in water on the windowsill. Got out of the habit, and now we are scallionless. But it was still a very tasty meal. 

Oh how I love eating outside. 

Oh dang, the leftover peppers! So like I said, I had leftover brine from the refrigerator pickles, so I sliced up the leftover peppers into thin strips and threw them in a jar with some sliced red onions leftover from who knows what, and poured the rest of the brine on top of that. 

I’m not sure what I will do with this or how it will taste, but it sure is pretty. I might chop it up and serve it with brats. That sounds good! Or maybe I will add some olives and make muffaletta sandwiches. Or maybe I will just eat pickled peppers like a fermentation goblin. 

On Tuesday I made a bunch of ice cream, because Benny was planning to have some friends over later, and I wanted to try making fried ice cream. I made two batches of vanilla and one batch of coffee. For that, I just did the normal sweet cream/vanilla base (two eggs, 3/4 cup sugar, 1 cup of milk, 2 cups of heavy cream), and added I think three tablespoons of instant espresso powder to it. Turned out WONDERFUL. Really rich and creamy. 

WEDNESDAY
Mussakahn, taboon, cantaloupe and dates

I was freaking busy on Wednesday, and I don’t even remember why, but I remember being mad at myself for planning a relatively complex meal. Then I was even madder when I realized we didn’t have sumac, which is the primary flavor in this dish! And one of my errands is Home Depot, which is near a Price Chopper, and THEY ALSO DIDN’T HAVE SUMAC. New Hampshire is just… so caucasian. Anyway, I just made the recipe without sumac. I more or less follow this Saveur recipe. So I got that marinating and then at some point started some dough for taboon.

Jump to Recipe

Every single time I make this bread, I think, “That must be a typo. It can’t possibly need that much salt.” But it does. It is a salty bread, that’s all! 

It’s not really a hard meal at all; you just have to start the chicken several hours before supper, and start the taboon maybe an hour before supper. But then the actual cooking and baking is super simple. You just throw the chicken in the oven on a pan and cook it for about an hour. Right before it’s done, you brown up some pine nuts to throw on top. For the taboon, it rises for an hour, rests for ten minutes, and then you stretch it over the pan, give it some dimples, and bake for another 12 minutes or so, so basically it’s just throwing two things in two pans and letting them go. I think I had the oven at 400 the whole time (which is hotter than what the chicken recipe calls for) and it still turned out great. 

For a side, I cut up a cantaloupe and served it with some dried dates, because I am freaking running out of ideas for safe produce dishes. 

For the taboon, I couldn’t find my second giant sheet pan, but it was a smaller crowd for supper anyway (Lucy and Sophia went to see BTS!), so I baked it in a pizza pan and we had ROUND mussakhan. 

Leading Moe (who had moved out before I discovered this dish, and had never seen it before) to say, “Mama, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is the weirdest pizza you’ve ever made.” 

It was tasty, though, even without the sumac. Just not as piquant. The taboon turned out really nice, soft and chewy. And salty!

On Wednesday, Benny used a half-cup measure and made the ice cream into balls, and put them back in the freezer on parchment paper. (Oh, come to think of it, that’s where my second pan was, duh!) The idea was to give them plenty of time to freeze very solid, for frying on Thursday. 

I also mowed the heck out of the yard in the evening, when it cooled down a bit. We’ve been getting giant dumps of rain, and then periods of scorching hot sun, so the yard was looking pretty disreputable. The lawnmower was making really tragic noises and kept quitting, but I forged ahead. I honestly think that, between yoga and mowing and swinging a hammer, I’ve bullied my arm into healing. My range of motion is definitely improving, and it doesn’t ache so much at night. I dunno. Maybe I should become a physical therapist. “Here’s a hammer, now quit whining.” 

THURSDAY
Burgers, chips, fruit salad, fried ice cream

Thursday I spent allllll day on the treehouse. I wanted to add in a bunch of diagonal supports to the frame before I put the floor on. I started out really well

and then things went. . . a little silly. I don’t think I really made any mistakes, per se, but it looks like a deranged person was building it, which is absolutely accurate.

I had to trot back and forth between the treehouse and the saw, which can only be plugged in in a certain spot to avoid tripping the house circuit; and you know, a lot of things can happen in between measuring a piece of wood and cutting it! For instance, you can get really hot, and get dumb. Or maybe you can measure and cut the wood right, but then when you get back and climb up the ladder, you forget where you meant to attach it. You would think the solution would be to mark directly on the wood where it’s supposed to go, but this only works for a while until you drop both your pencil and your marker into the stream, and also your shoes. I also dropped my hammer multiple times, but eventually tied it to the freaking tree, so score one for the slow learner there! 

Anyway, here is a quick video from earlier in the day, where you can see my view from up in the tree, and also my view climbing down the ladder, stomping through the woods, and then trudging through the yard. 

So here is what the frame looked like when I was done: 

My basic theory was: Triangles are strong. Must make triangles.

And you know what, that thing is freaking solid. As I mentioned, I had kept saying to everyone, “As soon as I get the braces in place, it will be strong enough to support me!” but actually making myself get off the top of the ladder and sit on just the platform was really scary! But the more I stayed up there and moved around, the more secure I felt. It really is strong. Triangles, man. 

And it is GORGEOUS up there. Just absolutely dreamy. 

Look at that cool, green light. The spot under the treehouse is right where the ducks like to hang out during the hottest part of the day, and it’s just a fairytale up there. Ducks bobbing, water sparkling and babbling below, green leaves and dappled sunlight dancing around you and boughs waving gently overhead. I am so very pleased. 

I was less pleased when I nailed the final support in place, looked around, and realized I had Mike Mulliganed myself. Yes, I built so fast and so well, I forgot to leave a way to get out. I could not believe it. I kept trying to find a spot that was big enough for my ass and also near a ladder, and there really wasn’t one!

Which is good! I was hoping not to have gaps. But also, I really needed to get out of the tree at some point. Eventually I rotated myself around so I was aligned with the biggest gap I could find, then I started slithering and scooching, and shimmying myself downward, at one point manually stuffing my belly and then my boobs through the gap, and giggling insanely to myself while feeling grateful that at least the entire town of Popperville hadn’t come out to watch. 

Well! It was almost time for Benny’s friends to turn up. Benny never really got a birthday party back in December, despite my best bullying efforts, so we figured we owned her a party. It’s a complicated situation where she has different friend groups and loves them all, but they do not love each other, and the one thing Benny is allergic to is drama. So she ended up inviting over four boys for a pool party.

When I was fourteen, this is not what I would have done. But she had a great time. Where she gets her confidence from, I have no idea. They went to the stream, played in the pool, played in the pool in the rain, and got out for burgers, which Damien grilled. 

The burgers were super juicy and delicious. I also made a nice fruit salad with watermelon, cantaloupe, kiwi, peach, and nectarine, which is what I happened to have in the house because I forgot to buy fruit for a fruit salad, oops. We also had chips and leftover pesto pasta. 

AND, we had the refrigerator pickles, and wow. they were delicious! Just delightful. Crisp and garlicky and hotter than I was expecting. Everyone who likes pickles was really impressed by these, so I’m definitely making more, although I may need to buy some cucumbers. 

I was feeling somewhat smug because I had had so much foresight about making the ice cream balls ahead of time. Then I uhh read the rest of the recipe, and it turns out you’re supposed to roll them in the coating and freeze them for an additional four hours! OH WELL. Luckily, Benny wanted to play games with her pals before dessert, so the ice cream balls did get nearly four hours in the freezer by the time I fried them. 

I think I made 24 total, and they turned out pretty okay. 

The recipe I used calls for a coating made of crushed corn flakes, a little salt, and cinnamon, and then you serve it with a drizzle of chocolate sauce or honey, and top it with whipped cream. Sadly, the heavy cream had frozen and then thawed, so it separated, and I thought maybe if I just whipped it real good, it would reintegrate itself.

This did not happen. 

So I junked that and just served the ice cream with honey or chocolate syrup. It was good!

Just not amazing. Probably 1/3 to half of the ice cream balls opened up even during a very quick frying, which wasn’t disastrous, but it kind of broke the enchantment of having something hot and crispy outside and frozen inside. I don’t know if it’s because I was rushing so much to get the balls coated, and I didn’t coat them well enough, or what.

I do think I want to try this again, but probably with a batter coating, rather than crumb. But honestly, nobody was really enthusiastic about trying it except for me, so I may just let it go. Oh well! The ice cream part was good. Definitely gonna make the coffee flavor again. I have to say, the combination of coffee ice cream, cinnamon, and honey was really nice. 

FRIDAY
Pizza

Just regular old pizza! I didn’t have time to work on the treehouse today, but I I did go out to look at my work, and I forgot that I had added two posts for the railing!

They’re a little crooked, but this is just the initial attachment point, and that will get fixed. Corrie wants to me to string barbed wire around it, but I will not be doing that. I may add railings and then make a fence with rope; not sure yet. 

And it’s just nice out there. My annuals are finally off to the races, and it’s real pretty in our back yard.

Front’s not bad either! 


A little shaggy, but who among us. The two big patches of mixed wildflowers I planted on the sides of the house yielded mostly queen anne’s lace, oh well. A lot of the stuff I planted this year grew leaves, but no blossoms. At least not yet! Gladioli, rain lilies, dahlias, and dianthus, all just keepin it green this year. It’s okay. We do what we can. 

Just got back from adoration, and prayed for yez all. 

Korean Beef Bowl

A very quick and satisfying meal with lots of flavor and only a few ingredients. Serve over rice, with sesame seeds and chopped scallions on the top if you like. You can use garlic powder and powdered ginger, but fresh is better. The proportions are flexible, and you can easily add more of any sauce ingredient at the end of cooking to adjust to your taste.

Ingredients

  • 1 cup brown sugar (or less if you're not crazy about sweetness)
  • 1 cup soy sauce
  • 1 Tbsp red pepper flakes
  • 3-4 inches fresh ginger, minced
  • 6-8 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3-4 lb2 ground beef
  • scallions, chopped, for garnish
  • sesame seeds for garnish

Instructions

  1. In a large skillet, cook ground beef, breaking it into bits, until the meat is nearly browned. Drain most of the fat and add the fresh ginger and garlic. Continue cooking until the meat is all cooked.

  2. Add the soy sauce, brown sugar, and red pepper flakes the ground beef and stir to combine. Cook a little longer until everything is hot and saucy.

  3. Serve over rice and garnish with scallions and sesame seeds. 

 

taboon bread

You can make separate pieces, like pita bread, or you can make one giant slab of taboon. This makes enough to easily stretch over a 15x21" sheet pan.

Ingredients

  • 6 cups bread flour
  • 4 packets yeast
  • 3 cups water
  • 2 Tbsp salt
  • 1/3 cup olive oil

Instructions

  1. Mix the flour, salt, and yeast in the bowl of a standing mixer.

  2. While it is running, add the olive oil. Then gradually add the water until the dough is soft and sticky. You may not need all of it. Let it run for a while to see if the dough will pull together before you need all the water. Knead or run with the dough hook for another few minutes.

  3. Put the dough in a greased bowl, grease the top, and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm spot for at least an hour until it has doubled in size.

  4. Preheat the oven to 400. Put a greased pan or a baking stone in the oven to heat up.

  5. If you are making separate pieces, divide it now and cover with a damp cloth. If you're making one big taboon, just handle it a bit, then put it back in the bowl and cover it with a damp cloth. Let rest ten minutes.

  6. Using a little flour, roll out the dough into the shape or shapes you want. Poke it all over with your fingertips to give it the characterstic dimpled appearance.

  7. Bake for 10-12 minutes until it's just slightly browned.

What’s for supper? Vol. 479: It is Monday, my dudes

Sorry for not getting this out on Friday! But I assure you, it is Monday. I can tell because I’m on my backup to the backup computer, and it took my all weekend to figure out how to persuade it that I UNDERSTAND simchafisher.com is a suspicious website, but I really do want to go there anyway. Hope this finds you same.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’m living in a somewhat preachy folk tale where the slovenly vegetable-hating housewife gets taught a lesson by the fairies, and, through a complete deprivation of fresh vegetables, she comes to understand just how much she really actually enjoyed fresh vegetables. Except the fairy in this case is RFK Jr., and, instead of magic, he uses, well, sorry about that mental image. What I’m trying to say is, I picked some lettuce from my garden and I’m going to eat it for lunch, and I am EXCITED.

It alternated between very hot and pouring rain last week. It turns out that when it’s really hot outside, and I can’t make salads, I just make various kinds of sandwiches. Here is what we had last week: 

SATURDAY
Leftovers plus pizza and loaded potato skins

‘Twas another super long shopping turn with multiple side quests and pick-ups and drop-offs, but I must have had some steam left when we got back, because I did a little harvesting of the last of the rhubarb, plus some lupine seeds from my most magnificent lupine beast, and some zinnias and wildflowers. 

Big year for Queen Anne’s Lace! It is everywhere, and very tall. 

I also dug up the rest of the garlic, because I was tired of thinking about it. 

We lost a duck on Saturday. It was poor little Dolly, the one who struggled to get out of his egg, and who never really caught on how to live right. Poor thing! He did have lots of companionship his whole life and had a fine share of sunshine, grubs, green grass, fresh water, and butterflies. Vaya con Dios, Dolly, you little dope. Sorry we thought you were a girl when we named you. 

A few days later, another duck went missing. Sometimes they go on adventures and spend the night outside, but this one hasn’t come back yet, so it’s not looking hopeful. These are the perils of having free range ducks. I think it’s still the best life for them, because they have the stream and the woods and so much mud and tasty bugs at their disposal, but there are perils! 

That evening, Benny and I went paddling out on the pond. I left my camera in the car, so just imagine the New Hampshirest thing you can imagine as the sun goes down.

We were planning to explore the little St. Francis chapel on the other side of the water, but someone was doing a maternity photo shoot, which I was fairly slow to catch on to, oh well. Sorry, lady. 

SUNDAY
Chicken caprese sandwiches, chips

Sunday after Mass I finally got the rest of the garlic hung up to cure

and chopped up and froze the rhubarb. This time I remembered to string it first!

Then I made a little progress on Corrie’s treehouse! This is probably the closest I’ve ever come to real carpentry. A treehouse built around a single tree needs four diagonal braces to support the platform, and the braces need to be cut to fit inside the corner of the frame.

This is my first one. I ended up getting better as I went! But they all seem to be doing the trick. I used my little Japanese pull saw, which I love. 

It looks a little Dr. Seussy, but that’s to be expected. (I did add some nails to the bottom end after I took this picture!) 

For supper, I asked Elijah to roast some chicken breasts with olive oil, salt and pepper, and Irene to cut up some tomatoes, and then I picked a bunch of basil and made a balsamic vinegar reduction — super simple, just two cups of balsamic vinegar and one cup of brown sugar, simmered until it was about half the volume. 

Cut up some mozzarella and some baguettes, and it was yummo.

I hope I remember to do a balsamic reduction and grill some peaches, when the peaches are finally ripe! That will be lovely with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. 

Gosh, I was busy on Sunday. At some point during the day, I baked some brownies and some lemon squares, because after supper, when it got dark, it was OPERA NITE. We watched the 1987 Met production of Turandot, which none of us has ever seen before. It has Luciano Pavarotti and is conducted by James Levine, with incredibly lush, intricate sets by Zeffirelli. I didn’t recognize the other names, but it was Eva Marton as Turandot, and her voice and presence were wonderful; but even with the spectacular costumes, we struggled a bit with accepting her as the most beautiful princess in the world. But Leona Mitchell as Liu was heartbreakingly good. 

Unfortunately, my kids are simply too Gen Z to be able to tolerate the whole “Ping, Pang, Pong” thing going on in Turandot, and they also felt like Turandot was justified in killing everybody and keeping all her subjects in fear of torture constantly? So it was not especially well received. Oh well! They did like the snacks, and we watched it outside on the projector, which is fun. The actual moon, nearly full, was rising just as they were singing, “Perché tarda la luna?” so that was lovely.

We watched Act One, had a break for cheese and crackers

watched Act Two, had a break for brownies and lemon squares

and watched Act Three. It’s only about two hours in total. And that was Opera Nite! Another summer goal checked off the list. 

MONDAY
Beach food and McDonald’s

Monday we went to the ocean! Everyone made a sandwich and I packed up a bunch of chips and cherries, cookies and soda, and we went to dear old Hampton Beach. Perfect weather, sparkly water, decent waves. Everyone went in, and Corrie and I stayed in, and then uhhhh we almost drowned. This has actually been causing me a medium amount of anguish, because I’m having trouble sleeping because my arm hurts, and while I’m awake, my mind keeps replaying the scary part in the water over and over. I’m making progress! My siblings gave me some good tips for how to integrate what happened into my life, so it’s not just this chaotic scary thing that I can’t handle, but something that happened and turned out okay. But still, yeesh. 

What happened is we were out past the breakers, still shallow enough where we could touch bottom, and we were having a lovely time, bobbing up and down with the waves and periodically checking our position to make sure we weren’t getting pulled past this outcropping of jaggedy rocks. I truly felt like a little kid again, and was so happy and carefree, and Corrie was just in absolute bliss. Then suddenly Corrie goes, “Hey, the rocks are right there!” and dang, they were, and dang, we were suddenly a lot closer to them than we had been, and DANG, we COULDN’T GET AWAY FROM THEM. 

Corrie had a boogie board, so I grabbed her hand and told her to hold on to the board, and we kicked together. Every time a wave came, I shouted, “Let’s kick!” and we did, but we didn’t make any progress at all. My feet and hands were hot and I started panting and swallowing water, and I was getting tired so, so fast. Corrie was just excited and having a good time, and I didn’t want to freak her out, so I just kept saying, “We need to kick!” I waved my arm in between waves while holding her hand with the other one, but I kept swallowing water, and every time I turned around, the rocks were closer. 

THEN, this beautiful, serene water nymph in red appeared. She put an orange torpedo buoy in my hands and told me to hang on, and someone else was on the way. Then yes, a second beautiful, serene water nymph appeared and put a buoy in Corrie’s hands. And they just towed us right in. They kept telling me to hold on with both hands, but I could not get myself to let go of Corrie. I have had this dream, you see, probably twenty times over the last few decades, where I am with a child in the ocean, and we’re holding hands, and a wave comes, and … I let go. Then the wave recedes, and it leaves a shining empty beach, and the child is gone.

So, sorry, ladies, I did not let go, and probably that impeded our rescue, but anyway, this time I didn’t let go. 

Feaking ocean. I still love you, but sheesh. I guess that was a rip current. I’ve read this sign many, many, times

but when we were in the middle of it, I wasn’t thinking “oh, this must be a rip current. Good thing I know my options!” I was thinking “AGGGGGGGGG ::splut splut:: Oh AIEEEEEEE ::spit sputter:: AUGGGGGGG.” So, thank God for those lifeguards! They really appeared out of nowhere like divine apparitions, and they were so calm and kind, and as soon as we were on our feet and made sure we were okay, they just went back to work. 

Corrie just thought the whole thing was neat. I let Damien put me in a chair and wrap me in a towel and I cried a bit, then ate a bunch of cherries. I was so shaken up. I’ve been struggling a bit with “but what if I die?” thoughts lately, because of my upcoming surgery, and this did not help! 

Anyway, we went to the arcade and then got some beach snacks (I opted for a snow cone)

In the pic, I am wearing the bracelet Damien won for me at Ski Ball. Then we drove part way home, stopped for McDonald’s, and went the rest of the way home. What a to-do, my goodness. 

TUESDAY
Burgers and fries

Tuesday it rained most of the day, and I was so glad we had gotten to the beach while the weather was good. I spent a good long time sorting Benny and Corrie’s outgrown clothes. Bagged ’em up and immediately found someone on a buy nothing group who wanted them. 

Usually we are kind of the end of the line, clotheswise, and by the time we’re done with something, absolutely nobody wants anything to do with it; but Benny had a LOT of clothes! I didn’t even recognize some of them. Clothes just flow through our house in a never ending river.  

Even though it was raining, Damien grilled the burgers, and I just made a big batch of frozen fries, and I took this ultra glamorous photo

And that is finally the very last of the burgers I got for July 4th! Phew. That was a lot of burgers. 

WEDNESDAY
Buffalo chicken wraps, corn and zucchini salad

Wednesday it was absolutely pouring rain all day. Tremendous amounts of rain. I had a doctor’s appointment that was like “you are taking your meds wrong and are just asking for uterine cancer, and your blood pressure has crept up again, and we are out of meds for your reflux so I’ll order an endoscopy, but not until after your brain surgery, but in the mean time, here is a PT referral for your frozen shoulder.” I didn’t even get a sticker! Oh well, at least I didn’t drown. 

So I got home and heated up some chicken tenders, and for a side dish I made a little salad. I cut up a few zucchini into spears and seared them in olive oil

then did the same for some leftover corn cut off the cobs. Then I mixed it with Taijin seasoning and red onion. 

Really could have used some fresh cilantro, but it was pretty good. 

I took a truly terrible picture of supper (we had the chicken with buffalo sauce and pepper jack cheese on tortillas)

and that was Wednesday. 

THURSDAY
Pulled pork sandwiches, baked potatoes, watermelon

It being the end of the month, I suddenly realized I have a job, and spent most of the day writing furiously. In the morning, I hacked up a pork shoulder and started pulled pork cooking in the Instant Pot. Here is my recipe for that:

Jump to Recipe

I didn’t find the apple juice, so I used ginger ale, and it turned out nice. This is your reminder that you can use your standing mixer to shred cooked meat, and it takes about four seconds.

An hour before supper, I threw a bunch of potatoes in the oven. When they were done, I toasted some buns, cut up some red onions, cut up a bunch of watermelon, and we had yummy sandwiches. 

Not sure if you can tell, but it was still raining. I was sitting under a tree and just decided to be wet. It is summer and I am going to eat outdoors, dammit!

FRIDAY
Pizza

I also spent Friday furiously writing, and miraculously got everything turned in that I really needed to! I did forget to take the pizza dough out of the freezer, so after adoration I just bought some thawed pizza dough and, this may surprise you, but then I made some pizza. And very good it is, pizza. 

Okay, phew that’s it!

Clovey pulled pork

Ingredients

  • fatty hunk of pork
  • salt and pepper
  • oil for browning
  • 1 cup apple cider vinegar
  • 2/3 cup apple juice
  • 3 jalapeños with tops removed, seeds and membranes intact
  • 1 onion, quartered
  • 2 Tbsp cumin
  • 1 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 2 tsp ground cloves

Instructions

  1. Cut pork into hunks. Season heavily with salt and pepper.

  2. Heat oil in heavy pot and brown pork on all sides.

  3. Move browned pork into Instant Pot or slow cooker or dutch oven. Add all the other ingredients. Cover and cook slowly for at least six hours.

  4. When pork is tender, shred.

Body weight

Remember the Shake Weight? Remember the Abdominizer? Remember the Ab Roller, ThighMaster, Bowflex Xtreme?

Once we believed all we had to do was buy this stuff, set it up, and inevitably proceed to become ripped, buff, jacked, swole, or achieve buns of steel, possibly for only five easy payments of $19.99.

Maybe we tried these gimmicks for a while, and they were good for a while. Then they got boring, then they got wretched, then they went under the bed to gather dust. Sic transit gloria ThighMaster.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with buying equipment to help you get more fit. Some of it is actually really effective. But as someone who recently bought, failed to use, and then threw away a knock-off version of that ridiculous weighted hula hoop, I will tell you what I already knew in my heart: It’s not the equipment. It’s me.

External stuff I can buy and use is not what is going to change my life. What will change my life is (a) doing the thing and (b) continuing to do it. That’s one of the reasons why I return, again and again, to the simplest exercises: The ones that take advantage of my own body weight.

Broadly, this category of exercise is called “calisthenics,” and it just means you’re working against your own self, and gravity. It’s very easy to adjust the difficulty of the resistance you’re using, because it’s just . . . you. You vs. you; and you, as equipment, are automatically tailored to you, for better or for worse. No app or monitor or sensor could possibly do a better job of calibrating a suitable volume for you to work against, than you just being who you are, and deciding to go from there, and keep going.

Well, as you may have guessed, I’m talking about physical fitness, but I’m really talking about spiritual fitness, and there are a NUMBER of directions you could take this idea in.

You could think about how grace builds on nature, and the Holy Spirit prompts you to develop the gifts you already innately have, to become who you’re supposed to be. Or you could think about how, at the end of the protracted workout routine called human life, all extraneous gimmickry will be stripped away, and you will stand alone before God who will judge your fitness only and solely as you qua you.

Let’s instead take a gentler road. … Read the rest of my latest column for The Pillar (paid content)

Image from DoD (public domain) via Picryl

What’s for supper? Vol. 478: Accidental pork fried candy

Happy Friday! This was not an illustrious week for us, food-wise, or really in any way, but at least it’s Friday. 

FRIDAY
Ice cream, then tuna noodle

Friday we did go see the Bellows Falls petroglyphs in the late afternoon, as planned. I’m more skeptical than I was that they are really ancient — at very least, I’m quite sure they’ve been touched up by more modern hands — but they’re still mysterious and beautiful, and we had a great time.

Irene, as usual, discovered a more direct route, while Benny, Corrie, Damien, and I wandered around and ended up having to scramble up a ridiculously steep rock face to see the glyphs.

We hung out for a while and enjoyed being there and seeing stuff. Benny did briefly make her Blue Steel face, but I am not authorized to share it, so instead here is us looking normal on the rocks.

Then the first group also found an easier route back up to the road, while Damien, Corrie, and I uhhhhh kind of almost died trying to force our way through a more direct path.

We all earned some ice cream, so we stopped at Dari Joy, then made our way back and had some tuna noodle or frozen pizza. 

SATURDAY
Leftovers and taquitos

Saturday turned into the world’s longest shopping trip, and I forget why. I guess Benny needed clothes and Lucy needed to be picked up from work and I needed to go to confession, AND we needed food. Yeah, that’s what did it! 

Leftover delite, plus taquitos. That night, I baked Lucy’s birthday cake so I could decorate it on Sunday. 

SUNDAY
Grilled ham and cheese, chips; birthday cake

After Mass, I went on a spur-of-the-moment quest for a FREE SPINNING WHEEL.

I am not 100% sure if it’s an actual spinning wheel or a decorative replica. If it is real, it obviously has some pieces missing. But the wheel moves smoothly and it has been put together with care and without the use of metal hardware, so it’s a lovely piece regardless. This will be for Clara, so she can spin straw into gold, and/or donate it to the local theater troupe as a prop. Yay!

Then I made another batch of frozen coffee in the slushy machine. I think we have settled into a routine where Damien makes cappuccinos on Sundays through the winter, and I make coffee slushies on Sundays through the summer. This is called complementarity, and speaking of which, happy NFP awareness week to you. I am celebrating by not reading any of the articles where people daringly reveal the brand new information that NFP is HARD, because of CIRCUMSTANCES, and some people are simply brave and strong enough to choose a DIFFERENT PATH, and where is their TROPHY. 

Anyway, on Sunday afternoon, fueled with plenty of caffeine and sugar, I  finally got around to cutting Benny’s hair, which she’s been begging me to do. She claims this is her second ever haircut! I feel like that can’t possibly be true, but on the other hand, she sure had a lot of hair. 

Turned out super cute, but am I allowed to take a picture, no I am not. 

I also realized my cucumbers were languishing in their current position. Not getting enough water or light, and in constant danger of being smothered by galumphin’ pumpkins. So I dragged out that terrible bench I never got around to fixing, and now it’s a cucumber and dill bench, ta dah!

Lucy went to the beach with her friends for her birthday, and I decorated her cake, and then for supper, we had verily the worst grilled ham and cheese I’ve ever made. I don’t even know what happened. It was like one of those dreams where your hands don’t work and gravity is weird and everything keeps swooping around in front of you. It tasted okay, though. 

And the cake turned out cute! Here is the pic she sent me for inspiration:

and here is the cake I made:

It’s not often that some aesthetic style you’re trying to imitate lines up perfectly with your skill level!  She liked the cake, liked her presents, whew. 

MONDAY
Burgers, corn, french fries, watermelon

Monday is a bit of a blur. Corrie made some banana bread, which she’s been doing a few times a week this summer. It’s honestly the best banana bread I’ve ever had. Nothing fancy, just fluffy and moist and sweet, with a nice buttery crust. 

Here’s the recipe she uses:

Jump to Recipe

On Monday I went to Home Depot to buy sixteen bolts to replace the ones I installed on my clothesline, which are somehow a few inches too short, so the pipes are wobbly. I had put a sample bolt in my pocket so I would be able to compare it to the new ones, so I would definitely get the right size and not have to go to Home Depot again.

Then I changed pants, got to Home Depot, reached in my pocket, and sighed a big sigh. 

A BIG SIGH. 

However, while I was there, I got a sack of soil to firm up my gladioli, which had popped right out of the ground, and I also saw they had some non-poo lettuce for sale, so I snapped that up. They also had tomato plants for $1 each, and even though I swore of growing tomatoes long ago because it always just leads to heartache, I bought six of them, because, yanno, mother should I trust the government? (No.)

Got home and moved some basil around and got the lettuce in. 

I didn’t quite have room for six tomato plants, so I dug up the rest of my garlic a little bit ahead of schedule, and it looked good and ready. 

Certainly an improvement over last year’s garlic harvest, anyway!

I forced myself to do a little thinning on my carrots, but I know I didn’t do enough, oh well. I fed the tomatoes and made some quickie stakes for them. I had heard that you can trim suckers off your tomato plants and just stick them in the soil and they will turn into new tomato plants. So I did that, and they immediately died. 

Then I checked the four shoots on my peach tree that I was trying to propagate by air layering, and they were all also all dead. I was mostly relieved, to be honest, because I got a 99 problems, but a dearth of peaches is not currently among them. 

I guess we had hamburgers for supper. We’re still working our way through the frozen patties I got for July 4th. I hope I remember this when I’m shopping for next year’s party! I truly bought twice as much food as we needed, which is insane. 

We also had corn, fries, and watermelon. Nice summer meal, but I’m REALLY looking forward to being able to eat the corn I grew! 

Look: Tassels! We have tassels!

TUESDAY
Fire chicken, rice, roast string beans

Tuesday is “everybody has an appointment” day around here lately, so probably not the best day to try a new recipe. Definitely not the best day to try a new recipe that you don’t actually have, but which you need to buy a subscription to get, and then you get in a dumb little fight with someone about whether it’s morally worse to use AI to generate a recipe or to ask someone to give you a recipe that you haven’t paid for. The upshot is that I WINGED IT. 

What I wanted to make was the Milk Street recipe for fire chicken where all you have to do is broil the chicken in the oven, then move the pan onto the stove top and keep cooking it until the sauce reduces. The technique is pretty self-explanatory, but I didn’t have the proportions for the ingredients. So I just kinda threw a bunch of spicy things into a pan with some boneless, skinless chicken thighs, then broiled it for a bit, and then cooked it on the stovetop for a bit, hoping it would get thick and sticky, which it did not. 

Yes I crowded the pan. Of course I crowded the pan. I also burned it a little bit, which kind of aeorsolized the gochujang, which is not a thing you want to do unless you enjoy coughing. 

I made a pot of rice and briefly considered making tempura string beans, but most of the kids said they wouldn’t eat that, and my will to live was ebbing away anyway. So I roasted them with some sesame oil, salt, and garlic powder, and threw some sliced almonds in there. 

And it was not very good! The chicken was okay, and the string beans were pretty bleh. 

I did not ruin the rice, hooray! And that was supper. Cough cough cough.

WEDNESDAY
Pork fried rice, potstickers

Wednesday I actually got a fair amount of writing done, and then Damien, Sohpia and I went to see The Odyssey in the afternoon. I reviewed it here

Before I left, I prepped a bunch of stuff so I could make fried rice when I got home. I chopped up leftover string beans and some zucchini and red onion and minced up a bunch of garlic and onion, and I found a bag of frozen pork, already cooked and chopped, in the freezer. I even pre-scrambled four eggs. Packed up everything in handy little mise en place dishes, covered them, and stuck it all in the fridge. 

That was a LONG movie, and then we had to stand in the parking lot and complain about it for a while, and then we had to get Corrie, whom we had dropped off at the library; so it was already after 7:00 when we got home. Turns out I forgot to tell the kids at home what the plan was, at all, so they were all in the kitchen hungrily yelling at each other, and Irene (remember what I said about Irene always finding the direct route) was grimly heating up some rice. It turns out they all thought (a) I was expecting them to make supper and (b) fried rice tastes like that because the flavors from the meat sort of seep into it, and you don’t have to add anything for a sauce. 

Here is my actual recipe for fried rice:

Jump to Recipe

and my technique is to lightly cook the garlic and onion, then add the vegetables, then the meat, then brown sugar and let that bubble and brown for a bit, then add the rice, and then finish it with soy sauce, fish sauce, and oyster sauce. My technique is not to dump everything in a pan and then stand there yelling. 

To be fair, it is entirely my fault for not communicating better, or at all, but I was a little distraught to have a pan full of hot, oily rice, raw garlic, ginger, and onion, and cold meat, plus cold vegetables that another sister had forcibly added to the pan despite the resistance of siblings.

So I did what any idiot would do: I told everyone to go away, then dumped a bunch of brown sugar on top of all of it, and heated it up, then shook some oyster sauce over it, and kept stirring. I thought it was working, too, until, as I sttirred, I started to hear a distinct clanking noise. Yes, there is was again: My fried rice was clanking. 

And that is how I made fried rice candy.  The sugar did melt a little bit, but then quickly crystallized into savory little chunks, and these got distributed all through the rice, and picked up some garlic and onion as they went. And I have to admit, the flavor of the meat sort of seeped into it!

I fished out as many clumps as I could find, and yes, I ate them. I was so hungry! Then I quickly boiled some frozen pot stickers, threw it all on the table, and ran away with my plate of food. 

The kids did ask later what those rocks were in the rice, and I told them it was a lucky prize, and they didn’t ask any more questions. And that was supper! 

Honest to goodness, it was not the worst fried rice I’ve ever had. I was hungry, though. 

THURSDAY
Ground beef doner kebabs, pita, yogurt sauce, tomatoes

Thursday was a bunch more writing. Moe was making supper, and we had some fairly elaborate plans, but you know, the cucumbers went bad, the herbs might have parasites, we ran out of time to make pita, and it turns out I didn’t super duper follow a recipe last time I made ground beef doner kebabs, and Moe was willing to do his best, but he’s never even seen doner kebabs, so it would be hard to fake it. So I tossed this recipe at him and told him to just skip the vegetable part, so he did it and also ran to the store for pita, and we had yogurt sauce and sliced tomatoes, and it was delicious. 

I am once again urging you to try the ground beef doner kebab thing, if you haven’t yet. It’s so easy and delicious. 

We watched The Sheep Detectives that evening, and it was entertaining and amusing. I’m not a huge fan of let’s get kids to confront death when they don’t want to stories, but this was sufficiently warm and reassuring that they pulled it off.  They did make a few irreverent jokes about God, but it’s not a huge feature of the story, and it does sort of balance it out with a plot point where the church saves babies in danger, and a priest humbly acknowledges that, because he took advantage of someone vulnerable, he considers himself “a bad shepherd.”  It was a little scary in parts, with the sheep being approached in the dark by frightening animals, and then being chased by dogs, but overall it was wholesome and well-crafted, with themes of self-sacrifice and devotion, and protecting the vulnerable and the outcast. It was a decent mystery, too, and I was surprised when the murderer was revealed. No deep thoughts, I just liked it well enough! The dialogue was better than The Odyssey. Which isn’t saying much. 

FRIDAY
Quesadillas, tortilla chips, watermelon

Corrie just showed me the eggplants are finally growing!

Little cuties. 

We have yet another appointment to get to today. We have an ailing duck living in the laundry room. We have plans for Opera Nite and a day at the ocean coming up. And I hope we have tortillas, because we’re supposed to have quesadillas for supper. Wish someone were in charge of planning meals and buying the necessary food items, OH WELL. 

Banana bread or muffins

adapted from Quick Breads, Soups & Stews by Mary Gubser

Ingredients

  • 2 cups flour
  • 1 tsp baking soda
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 cup butter
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 3 eggs
  • 3 ripe bananas, mashed well
  • 1/2 cup chopped nuts optional

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to 375.

  2. In one bowl, sift flour, baking soda, and salt together.

  3. In a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, beating well in between. Add mashed bananas and mix well.

  4. Gradually add the dry ingredients and blend well. If you're adding nuts, fold them in.

  5. Grease 12 muffin tins or a loaf pan and pour the batter in.

  6. Bake 20 minutes or longer, until the top is slightly browned.

 

Basic stir fried rice

This is a very loose recipe, because you can change the ingredients and proportions however you like

Ingredients

  • cooked rice
  • sesame oil (or plain cooking oil)
  • fresh garlic and ginger, minced
  • vegetables, diced or shredded (onion, scallion, peas, bok choy, carrots, sugar snap peas, cabbage, etc.)
  • brown sugar
  • raw or cooked shrimp, or raw or cooked meat (pork, ham, chicken), diced
  • soy sauce
  • oyster sauce
  • fish sauce
  • eggs

Instructions

  1. In a very large pan, heat up a little oil and sauté the ginger and garlic for a few minutes. If you are using raw meat, season it with garlic powder and ginger powder and a little soy sauce, add it to the pan, and cook it through. If you are using shrimp, just throw it in the pan and cook it.

  2. Add in the chopped vegetables and continue cooking until they are cooked through. If you are using cooked meat, add it now.

  3. Add the brown sugar and cook, stirring, until the brown sugar is bubbly and darkened.

  4. Add in the cooked rice and stir until everything is combined.

  5. Add in a lot of oyster sauce, a medium amount of soy sauce, and a little fish sauce, and stir to combine completely.

  6. In a separate pan, scramble the eggs and stir them in. (Some people scramble the eggs directly into the rest of the rice, but I find it difficult to cook the eggs completely this way.)

  7. If you are using cooked shrimp, add it at the end and just heat it through.

Nolan’s Odyssey wants it both ways and gets neither

We saw The Odyssey (2026) last night. I give Christopher Nolan credit for making a nearly three-hour film that moves briskly. It was entertaining throughout. It had a few good characters, and some scenes and bits I truly enjoyed, including some that Nolan made up. It was not discernibly woke. But overall, I left the theater frustrated and sour.

I set myself to watch the movie on its own terms, and I was prepared for it to be a modern take. The whole reason we still read the Odyssey is because it is so rich, you can keep returning to it at different times in different contexts, and come away with something new. I have no issue with going to a deep well and pulling up one drink and savoring just that. 

But there’s a difference between going, “Let’s look at just one facet of this immense story” and “Let’s fix this old thing up so it’s meaningful.” Nolan did the latter. But he kept butting up against the immensity of the story itself, and his retelling ended up not making even internal sense. 

In the beginning and at the end, they make a point of saying that nobody will remember what really happened, and by the time events becomes story and song, the details will be forgotten. So the movie sets itself up not just to be a retelling, but to be the one that sets the record straight: Here is what really happened (including the idea that Helen was just an excuse to start the Trojan war, and the real reasons were purely political). But that’s not only arrogant, it’s cowardly, because it also plants the seed that it’s not really possible to remember things accurately, and if you don’t like it, well, maybe it’s not what really happened. 

This is the movie’s main flaw: It does not commit. It wants things both ways. It wants to be a bold new telling of a dusty old story, that uncovers what was really going on in the hearts of heroes; but it also wants to hide its messy bits in ambiguity, and if you have any questions about what something actually means or why someone actually did something, well, poetry is like that, and who can say. 

The other major flaw — and this one was more obviously and painfully evident — was the dialogue, which was absurdly terrible. Using modern language is fine. Telemachus calls his parents “mom” and “dad,” and Odysseus says “Ten years on this fucking beach,” and that’s fine. This kind of thing can work. The problem was that every single line in the movie — every one! — was stilted, dull, and forgettable. The worst lines were the ones that were set up to be dramatically profound. At least three times while I watched, I asked myself, ” . . . wait, what does that actually mean?” I can’t quote the specific lines for you, because I can’t remember them. If you’ve been on Tumblr, though, you can imagine the tone. 

So let’s step back for a moment. This movie sets out to explore the idea of trauma. In this telling, the reason Odysseus takes ten years to get home is sort of because the gods are punishing him, but also because he has violated his own internal ethics; but he is unable to face up to the ramifications of how much evil humanity is capable of, and he’s simply not ready to go home yet. This is a valid and interesting idea for a story! 

But guys. It was Matt Damon. He was just not up to it. The movie wanted to be “what if Odysseus were a tortured and guilty man with interior demons to overcome” but it was actually “What if Odysseus were boring?” 

So many people were annoyed that this telling of the Odyssey made Odysseus kind of small — small in stature, pointy of face, not especially charismatic or kingly — and that the landscape is so heavy and dreary, rather than sparkling and lovely. I think that was on purpose: It was supposed to be giving us a world where self doubt, grief, guilt, and regret are what make Odysseus go (or not go). This may have been interesting! It’s not as if ancient Greece shies away from the idea tragedy or human flaws.

But this is only a worthwhile take if it enlightens anything. And nothing was enlightened.

Yet it still managed to be painfully didactic. Nolan juggles an impressive number of flashbacks and non-linear storytelling, and it is all skillfully woven together so you can easily track what happened when. In fact, it was too skillfully done. It felt like watching a movie in class, and the teacher keeps pressing pause and saying, “Ok, now pay attention, guys. This is the part where we first understand why Odysseus is sad! Okay, now let’s watch.” It was so overt, I was insulted. 

The movie’s strongest points were the action sequences, and these were where I came the closest to losing myself in the movie. The sack of Troy was wonderful, engaging and frightening and horrible. The cyclops sequence was fantastic. I liked where they were going with Circe as a sort of embittered cat lady, and the way she physically labored to transform the men into pigs was truly scary. 

Menelaus was fun, and embodied the character well. Antinous was very convincing as a scheming creep. Eumaus was decent and sympathetic. Telemachus was okay. Helen was fine, and her being black was not startling and did no violence to the plot, but she is by no means a major character. Calypso (Charlize Theron) is some kind of J. Crew model-turned-holistic-therapist, and she got a massive amount of screen time. This was an important part of how the movie was framed, as a time for Odysseus to come to terms with what he has done, and to decide how he wants to live going forward. Again, this is not an outrageous idea, and its’ worth exploring. 

But . . . they don’t really explore it. Everything that is bothering poor Matt Damon is chalked up to Zeus’ Law, which the characters reference incessantly. Mostly it means hospitality, but it’s also shorthand for the golden rule, fair play, piety, and possibly the Geneva Conventions. It’s not really clear. I think the general idea was this is a world that works as long as people behave decently, and when they don’t, things go bad, and it turns out Odysseus is one of the guys who sometimes doesn’t behave decently. I don’t have a quibble with this, but it’s not as groundbreaking an idea as it thinks it is. It felt, in fact, dated. It was a reframing that would have seemed daring and transgressive in the mid-90’s.

They really wanted it to be more than an action movie, so they kept stealing the glory and satisfaction out of the action, to show that there was more going on than meets the eye. So you, a willing and attentive viewer, look closer . . . and there’s just not much there. Really just Matt Damon. And I’m sorry, I like Matt Damon, but the role they set him up to play was an extremely complex and contradictory man, and he just didn’t do it. 

I wish they had just made it an action movie, instead of trying and failing to get clever with it all. The closest I cam to losing myself in the movie was during the action sequences. When he strings his bow and plucks it, that’s probably the best few seconds in the whole movie, and it’s the perfect spot for a turn and a massive, cathartic redemption of everything we’ve all just been through. I thought, Okay, we’re finally getting into the final part which will make everything else fall into place and redeem all the ambiguity we’ve been wallowing around in so far. And I thought it was going to! I could have done without the “rising panic of a swarm of bees” sound that they use several times in the movie to indicate (with a heavy club) tension, but the slaughter of the suitors scene really is satisfying and thrilling. They were so rotten, and he came back and put it all to rights! He killed ’em good! 

And then things disintegrate again. They collapse back into ambivalence and portentous ambiguity. Penelope recognizes him, but there is no marriage bed built from a living tree. Instead, we briefly see that her throne has a tree carved into it. The best reading I can make of this is that their marriage and the kingdom and . . . I don’t know, Things That Matter, endure because we decide to make them matter. The worst reading, which I fear is the intended one, is that we use poetry and song and art to craft an appealing version of our lives and of the world, but the truth is actually always something much more flimsy and precarious. 

We didn’t sit through all the credits, but I would absolutely believe you if you told me there was a little coda where Odysseus and Penelope spend some time in intensive therapy, possibly with Calypso as their gracious host, and they eventually decide that a conscious uncoupling rooted in mutual respect and accountability would be healthier for everyone involved. 

Have I mentioned Anne Hathaway as Penelope? I think she does the absolute best acting she is capable of, and good for her. Her posture is excellent throughout, and her hair looks really nice. 

But I have not yet talked about the gods.  

Again, I was ready to accept a bold reimagining of this world that doesn’t have visible gods in it, except for Athena. In the original, they aren’t even visible that often, and frequently act by stirring up the emotions of various characters and making them overcome with fear, panic, lust, etc. The idea that the gods represent psychological realities of humans is not exactly groundbreaking. 

But once again, the movie hedges its bets and ends up with something incoherent, and much lesser than it could have been. In the movie, the gods are real(ish) because the characters basically believe they are real; but it doesn’t know how to make the characters both relatable and pious. So it makes the gods not only invisible and inscrutable, but into a sort of psychological cover story for interior choices; and those are definitely real. Athena seems to appear when Odysseus needs the gods to be real.

Again, this is okay, if that’s what they want to do! This is a retelling, and they can do what they want, as long as they do it well. 

And they do not.

Look. If you’re building a world, you have to be consistent. If they are going to make the gods into just a collective cultural framework that explains human psychology and ethics, then WHY THE FRACK ARE THERE REAL MONSTERS? Why are supernatural things only really real when they’re scary? 

I know the answer! It’s the old Dante problem: It’s way easier to depict a compelling and interesting Inferno than it is a compelling and interesting Paradiso. So yeah, it’s easier to make a movie with an otherworldly cyclops, and giants, and witch, than it is to make an otherworldly pantheon. So he just skips the pantheon. But the great irony is, when Nolan does literally depict the inferno — when Odysseus goes to Hades to talk to Tiresius, and he meets Sinon and some of his other men — it’s boring as heck. You can’t even tell exactly when they arrive in Hades. It’s just, like, the worst beach ever, and the shades aren’t creepy. They’re unpleasant, and they’re definitely grumpy, but they’re just basically guys who are extremely dirty.

So this is a world that does have otherworldly, transcendental elements, except when it comes to mankind

The story has no numinosity, at all. It’s not even sexy, which is crazy! It’s not just that it’s so gritty and dark and I don’t like that, and I wish they had more pretty, sparkling, glorious parts. It’s that it wants you to understand that there is more than meets the eye to this and that . . . but it never tells you what that more might be. I truly don’t think it knows. 

*******

Image:
Matt Damon as Odysseys and Zendaya as Athena in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey (2026)

All right, then, let’s talk about Catholics doing yoga

War? Schism? Genocide? Fraud, pestilence, global conspiracies? These are all child’s play. Back in my day, Catholics used to spend our days on the internet arguing about really important things, like yoga.

Oh yes. It’s finally summer, the streams are flowing, and I’d dearly like to start a fight about the spiritual dangers of banana pose.

I’ve been doing yoga, off and on, for four years now, and it has changed my life. It’s been great for my joints and my digestion, it builds muscle and helps me sleep, it’s brought my blood pressure back to normal, and I really enjoy showing fealty to false deities and demons. All while wearing revealing pants!

I kid, I kid. What is true is that I love yoga and it has changed my life, but whenever I talk about it in Catholic circles, someone freaks out and says I’m gonna catch a demon.

Believe it or not, I take that warning seriously. I think the world is full of things we can’t see, and it’s entirely possible to slide into a state that welcomes in malignant spirits, and we shouldn’t mess around with spiritual practices that are not our own.

I also believe the body has meaning. When I make the sign of the cross, I believe that it has an inherent meaning. It means something when an actor in a movie does it without any understanding of what it signifies. It meant something even when my mother, far gone in dementia, made the sign of the cross on herself out of sheer habit. When I have sex, THAT has inherent meaning, even if my thoughts at the time are not necessarily fully engaged with passages from Theology of the Body. What we do with our bodies matters.

So even if I don’t MEAN to honor Shiva when I manage to pull off a wobbly natarajasana, isn’t there something wrong with a Catholic doing the thing that was designed in ancient times to honor Shiva?

These questions bothered me. So I did what any good Catholic would do: I looked it up.

It turns out the thing that springs to mind when we say “yoga” — yes, even the kind with gongs and incense and statues of elephants — is about 60 years old. There is an ancient practice that was once called “yoga” but it was mainly concerned with interior, spiritual concepts and practices, and barely even mentions the body. Yoga as we know it, and as most modern people practice it, is physical exercise that happens to have originated in India; and some people — some eastern, some western — have done their best to grandfather in some spiritual practices.

But historically, the only common denominator between ancient yoga and modern yoga is India. The spiritual elements of modern yoga are about as rooted in ancient pagan spirituality as Totino’s Orange Chicken Pizza Rolls (WHICH ARE A REAL THING) are rooted in old Napoli. There is a connection, sort of? But not a meaningfully historical one.

However! In this essay, I will not claim that, because of this lack of seamless historicity, there is therefore no possible spiritual danger that can come from getting into yoga.

Read the rest of my latest column for The Pillar (subscriber content).

Photo by Mohamed Hassan form PxHere

What’s for supper? Vol. 475: West and wewaxation wedux

Happy Thursday! I’m sorry I missed last Friday’s What’s For Supper (and I’m sorry if I caused anyone to panic by posting a WFS on a Thursday. Not that the world revolves around my posts, but I, for one, have been hurled into confusion by much smaller things).

Last week was wonderful but exhausting, and by last Friday, many of my cells refused to cooperate in anything but the most essential functions, by which I mean I fell asleep in the adoration chapel and woke myself up snoring, but don’t worry! there were several other people there. Then I went to pick up a kid and drove the wrong way down a one-way street, and then I sent myself to bed early. So I didn’t get any writing done.

A quick highlights reel of the previous week:

Last Sunday, my friend Danielle stopped by for lunch! I didn’t get any pictures of us, but we had wonderful conversation as usual, and she brought some special hybrid apricots. Anyone who’s ever looking for a gift for me, the answer is always fruit. 

Damien made smoked chicken thighs, and I made a green salad and some pasta salad. For the pasta salad, I used some of my chive blossom-infused vinegar, which has pinked up nicely. Started like this:

and ten days later, it looked like this. 

I love infusing things. I’m really big on projects that take a little effort in the beginning, but then you just have to let time pass. 

I overcooked the pasta, but the pasta salad was still good.

Salami, sun dried tomatoes, feta, basil, black olives, marinated artichoke hearts, olive oil, chive blossom vinegar, and misc. Oh, and I chopped up a bunch of garlic scapes and threw them in, and that was a good idea! They tasted like mild garlic, but with the snappy texture of fresh string beans, so that added some good texture. 

For dessert I made individual blubarb crumbles with the last of the rhubarb, and topped them with fresh whipped cream.

The flavor was good, but the texture — well, it seems I used some of what should have been beyond the last rhubarb, and some of it was so woody, I truly don’t understand how I didn’t notice that when I was prepping it. It was like eating sweet blueberry mulch. I really surprise myself, sometimes. 

But all in all, a tasty meal

and a tasty visit! 

The next day, with some help from Corrie, I culled peaches from the tree. We have thousands and thousands of peaches this year, and if you want them to grow big and sweet, you need to pick off the smallest and malformed and crowded ones. This is not an edifying job, but it gets less tragic every time I do it. It sure was a lot of peaches, and this was just the ones we could reach easily. 

I threw most of them in the compost heap, but decided I might as well pickle the biggest ones. I opted for a sweet recipe, rather than sour or spicy, but I fudged it a bit. As far as I can recall, I used white vinegar, honey, cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, bay leaves, lots of fresh ginger, salt, and I guess water. You’re supposed to score the peaches to help them absorb the flavor, but they were so small and tender, I accidentally cut them in half (the pit is just barely forming at this stage). So I made one jar of whole peaches, and one jar of halves. 

Murky and mystical. I don’t do sterile canning; I just covered the jars and put them in the fridge. Gonna try them next week, probably, or the next. I’m guessing they will be good as a garnish for vanilla ice cream. Maybe with a little praline topping and fresh mint. Well, I have no idea. 

THEN WE WENT CAMPING. That’s what the rest of this post will be about! And I will warn you, I allowed myself to get a little lyrical, because it was just that kind of place. 

I spent most of the time without my phone/camera, so I could just beeeeeee there, and not be checking in on stuff, or thinking ahead, or framing stuff, or trying to capture anything, or to know what time it was. 

I gathered our supplies and Damien loaded up both kayaks and the canoe, because this site is only accessible by water. It’s about forty minutes away, and we arrived at the park around 7:00, found a pump and filled up the water tank, and then we packed most of our gear into the canoe. Damien paddled that, and I took one kayak with the second in tow.

We paddled through shallow water and golden light, everything utterly clean, globes of yellow spatterdock standing out here and there, and green lake weed folded just under the surface, rippling with the ripples. We could still hear other campers on shore from behind the trees, calling out and tending their campfires. Then we passed through a row of great rocks, “The Narrows,” and then on into the deeper part of the lake. Then it was only birds, and trees, water, and sky.

A little overwhelmed, we paddled around until we saw what must be our site, just a narrow patch of sand in the bank, and a small clearing in the trees. We landed and were delighted. They said it was a remote site and that is how it felt, with a deep, quiet smell of trees, a thick pad of pine needles underfoot, and not a thing overhead but the cooling sky. We unloaded our gear, walked around to see what there was, then set up the tent and the air mattress before it got much darker. 

And, it was the wrong mattress.

This may not sound like a big deal, but Damien is very tall, and I’m pretty wide, and this mattress was both short and narrow. And we are both old, and also the mattress had a leak. And we were staying two nights. So. 

The sun was setting, and I was distraught (guess who packed the gear?), and we could not think of a single solution other than Damien going back home to get the right mattress, while I stayed to make sure no critters ate our food. First he showed me how to use his pistol, then he went right back over the water, through The Narrows and over the other water, through the park, forty minutes home, grab the mattress, forty minutes back, see a baby moose, back over the water, back through The Narrows, and then through the other water with the right mattress. 

So, this is how you know this was a blessed spot: While I was alone in the night in the woods, I wasn’t scared at all. I was flustered, because it quickly became pitch dark, and I couldn’t figure out how to use the flashlights (I knew they had the new battery tab still on, but it was dark, and I was flustered!), and I lit a fire, but it kept going out, and I had to keep going into the black woods to gather more kindling, and the loons out on the lake were making the most otherworldly, tragical noises they possibly could. So it was a strange experience! But I felt utterly safe the whole time. Eventually I figured out how to use the lantern, and I hung it on the furthest branch of a tree I could reach, so when Damien got back into the water, he would know where to land. (Do you know that NH is 84% tree?) 

This is where something really strange happened: I couldn’t find the water. I kept shining my light at the spot where the land ended, and all I could see was pebbles and sand. I understood what I was seeing: The water was so still and so clear, I was seeing right through it down to the bottom. But I had such a hard time persuading myself the water was actually there. It was like looking straight down from the brink of the Grand Canyon, which is so incredibly deep that the distance down is further than I am used to being able to see horizontally. I knew what I was seeing, but I couldn’t get my brain to register it. Passing strange. 

I just kept relighting the fire and thinking about loons and eating caramel cremes to fortify myself, and eventually I allowed myself to tot up the time it could reasonably take to achieve all the things Damien had to do. I figured about three hours.

I checked my phone. It had been about three hours, twenty-five minutes.

Then I did worry. I allowed myself to think about him not being able to spot the campsite, and for some reason his boat sinking silently into the dark water with no one to know but the loons and the stars, and how much I would not like that to be true, but MAYBE IT WAS.

That part went on for about ten minutes. Then suddenly I heard splashing, and then there he was, with a big mattress and an extra bundle of wood. And I was glad to have him back. 

We were both every so tired and hungry, so I was glad I had splurged on a bunch of pre-sliced london broil, which I salted and peppered, and we threaded it onto the tines of a long fork, and Damien cooked it nicely over the fire

until it crackled, while I cut up some sharp cheddar and buttered some bread. And that was an excellent meal. We washed our hands and collapsed into bed to the sound of nightbirds and peepers. 

Around 8 a.m., I woke up. Haha, just kidding, it was like 4:15. I struggled my way out of the tent and stumbled over to the terlet (we got this wonderful, portable camp toilet, which made a huge difference in the entire trip!), and then went over to see what the world was doing up so early.

This is what it was doing. 

Here’s a video I took


 
and I thought that any day that started out that way could not possibly be bad. I could already feel my brain rinsing clean. 

I went back to bed and dozed for a bit, then got up and scared the heck out of a family of mergansers checking out the bits of cheese we had dropped last night. They had at least a dozen babies, and the whole lot of them whooshed out of there like they had a jet pack. The trail of bubbles they left in their wake stayed floating on the surface for ten minutes or more — that’s how still the water was. 

Damien lit the camp stove and made some coffee, and I sat in the tethered yellow kayak and drank it slowly while drifting. The water was utterly clear, and I watched salamanders and tiny fish bustling around. One big fish that I did not see made a classic “CLOOP!” as he nabbed a careless dragonfly and dropped back home. 

Then I untied the kayak and set out to see the water. There were clusters of rock in the middle of the lake, a few bare and marked with stripes from  different depths of water; some with grasses, pink and purple flowers, and pale lichens, a few with entire trees. A dry tip of broken tree branch poked up through the surface, and it was bleached and bare. I thought I saw a blue darning needle perched on it, and next to it, a green sprout. I maneuvered closer to see, and the green was a grasshopper, and with it was another, in brown, and then I saw two more bugs. In another spot, every single blade of pond grass that poked up through the surface had its one crablike, translucent insect clinging to its stalk. And birds, birds, birds everywhere. I have never seen such a place for living things. 

We kept marveling how quiet it was, and how much solitude, and how remote, because all we could hear was birds. But to the birds, it must have felt like Grand Central Station. They were all hard at work, and there were so many, and so many kinds. Everyone was busy doing complicated, intricate avian things, except for this one nuthatch, who perched near our tent and went, “Yamp. Yamp. Yamp. Yamp. Yamp. Yamp. Yamp.” And that is what he did, all day long. 

In the middle of the lake, a round, yellow spider startled me by scuttling up my arm. I jumped and blew him off with a puff of breath. I regretted it right away, but he landed neatly on the surface of the water and skated silently beside my boat, skimming right along with me, caught up in my small current. He left a tiny wake behind him, and made ripples before him as he went.

At some point, I paddled back to camp to have some breakfast. I burned a bagel over the stove flame, then scrambled some eggs and added some smoked salmon trim, and had a wonderful sandwich. 

Then I went back out, and I saw a pair of loons. I kept carefully coming closer, and they kept letting it happen, completely unbothered. They are dark creatures with pointed bills, and between them were two fuzzy babies who paddled lightly on the water and kept up a persistent burring, wheezing sound.

 The parents were silent and unalarmed by my boat, although I know they saw me with their round, red eyes.

 

They ducked their heads and fished out goodies from the glassy water, with droplets flashing and beading on their backs. Their children were plain, but the parents were both dressed to the nines, decked out in an intricate Escher-like design of black and white. Sometimes the babies rode on their backs, then slid down into the water to bob and swim. 

I saw striped rocks; I saw uprooted trees. Nearer to the shore, I heard a flap like a waiter shaking out a tablecloth, and a huge grey heron lifted off the water and departed on some heron business, into the trees. 

Through the narrows and into the reedy, shallow water, where half the surface was dressed with lily pads, I watched a red-winged blackbird hover, then dart, over and over again, picking off a feast of bugs. His shoulders blazed and he sang his rowdy, garbled song as I floated and watched, my forearms baking in the sun, frogs calling, mounds of clouds piled in the blue. A million little fish kept cool in the dim water, and a white moth took her ease on a lily pad. 

And that is how we spent most of the day! Sometimes Damien and I paddled around together and explored; sometimes we went our separate ways. Absolutely nothing to do but paddle and float and look and listen. And not take pictures!

We spent a long, lovely time in the tent reading, and eventually I took a nap, and Damien went out to explore the forest. When I woke up, he had left a bouquet of wildflowers outside the tent. The last time I was so delighted to find flowers was when I came out of my dorm room in college and someone gave me a coffee pot filled with discarded pink flowers a teacher had thinned out of the bed by the office. That was from Damien, too, about 28 years ago. 

I went out with a journal and made some terrible drawings, mainly so I could look up flowers later. The one that baffled me the most was a tough, glossy  one on a long stalk, with five red petals and a green center like a parachute, and complex, ruffled, hairy leaves. 

I later discovered this is an immature pitcher plant, and the pitcher hadn’t formed yet. I didn’t know we had carnivorous plants in New Hampshire! There were also millions of shrubs with elegant, petal-shaped leaves and clusters of small, old fashioned-looking fuchsia blossoms.

These turned out to be sheep laurel, also new to me. 

Later in the day, I went out and in the middle of the water, I happened to look up, and there soared an eagle. He was just lazily circling, with his white tail fanned out. He made half a dozen circuits around the sky and then a little bird showed up and kept darting at him. He ignored it at first, but the little one would not give it up, and kept badgering and nippig at him. The eagle did a short barrel roll to evade him. I was absolutely bugging out and almost fell out of my boat. Then he decided he’d had enough, and glided away into the trees. Freaking birds. Freaking amazing. 

At some point, we went back and roasted hot dogs for supper, and I wrapped a Drake’s fruit pie in tinfoil and roasted that. It was fine. Much like a Drake’s fruit pie, except warm. 

I’ll just share a bunch of photos here from my evening outings.

and this final one, approaching the campsite with the moon overhead

A tiny, prickling rain was just starting to fall. 

We decided we were too tired to sit around a fire, so we just went to bed and read for a long time, gorgeously cozy. I woke several times in the night to hear more and more rain falling, and around dawn it really picked up, and that was when I realized we never put the tent fly on. It wasn’t raining directly inside the tent, but the water seeped through the walls, and by morning, my head and pillow were soaking wet. 

The stove wouldn’t stay lit long enough for coffee, so we just started packing. It was sad. Everything had wet pine needles and wet, splintery wood stuck to it. Damien loaded up the canoe and set out

and I followed with the two kayaks. So very different from when we got there! Our arrival was lucid and golden; our departure was misty, soggy, and grey. 

We made it back to the park landing site and started to unload. A mother wood duck and some ducklings were dabbling around the boat landing, looking for breakfast, and we saw one baby run right across the surface of the water like a cartoon. Then Damien experienced the pleasure of standing on wet pine needles and hoisting wet kayaks onto the top of a wet Suburban, and I helped by putting my hands in the air near the kayaks and going, “Oh! Oh gosh! Oh no!” Then, to make things worse, one baby duck came back all by himself, swimming slowly, looking around, and quacking anxiously, but his family was gone. A bit of a sad note to leave on. 

Eventually we got everything all packed up and took one final look at the water. And the mother duck sailed into view. She headed straight for the reeds, quacked sternly, and then reappeared, headed back in the other direction and muttering to herself, with her errant duckling in tow. So that was all right. 

Then we left, and then we stopped for coffee, and then we drove the rest of the way home. We’re planning our next trip already. It was wonderful. 

 

What’s for supper? Vol. 471: Tag yourself! I’m the community goat

Happy Friday! I’m parked in the shade outside the chapel, about to down a frozen mocha coffee. That’s three or four migraine triggers in a single cup. All I can say is I woke up feeling so fuddled and monstrous, I didn’t think I could feel worse, and the craving for this one particular gas station drink was so very strong. If I can still form complete sentences by the time I get to the end of this post, we’ll know I got away with it. 

Here’s what we ate this week:

SATURDAY
Leftovers and pizza pockets

Saturday morning I had set my alarm, which I am privileged enough to not usually have done on Saturdays! A customer was coming to pick up a number of mini cheesecakes and mini pies; and Clara’s boyfriend was coming to patch up the siding in front of the house where the porch used to lurk.

Here is what the front of the house looked like two years ago:

and here it is now:

Poor old house! In between these two pictures, it acquired a terrible scar, over which we stapled plastic. So believe me, this is better. The patch is white because we live in Maison De Nonstandarde, so of course they don’t sell that color of siding anymore. So I need to paint, and obviously do a power wash. But that’s an improvement! She’s getting there. The little rock garden in front is filling out nicely

with more things budding. 

So then we went shopping, and in the afternoon, Clara came by with pastries, including this magnificent one, which was spicy tomato and olive with saffron.

Actually, there were two of these, and guess who didn’t want any? Everyone but me! So guess who ate both??? Only me!!! No regrets. They were incredible. If you’re ever in Keene, Fire Dog Breads makes nothing but delicious food. 

It was so nice and warm out, we took the ducklings outside and let them run around. They get a little silly, especially since their leader, Lego Johnny Cash, is half black Swedish, which is the breed Daffy Duck was modeled after. LJC gets VERY daffy sometimes. But the four of them have a strong drive to stick together, and it turns out they all enjoy being whistled to. 

What silly, lovely creatures they are. 

Also, wow, I sit weird. (Yes, I know a prolonged habit of w-sitting is associated with autism. I think what happened is, because I was born in the 70’s, I’m not autistic, but most of my kids are. It happens!)

SUNDAY
Chicago-adjacent hot dogs, chips

Sunday after Mass, I mowed a big swath of the back yard. It’s crazy how quickly it goes from “oooh, we’re finally getting some touches of green back in the world” to “I know my shoes are out there somewhere, but they belong to the jungle now.”

Then I drilled out the remaining holes (there is something existentially wrong with that phrase, but you know what I mean) for the clothesline base, and put in the rest of the bolts; and then I conscripted some big kids into dragging the whole thing over to the side leg of the back yard.

I have to attach the washers and nuts to the underside of the base, and obviously replace the ropes, but it’s getting there. I feel a little bad, because it’s in a spot that has been overgrown for several years, and now when the people in the apartment house look out their window, instead of seeing wild green, they’ll see my fatass pants flapping in the breeze. However, they (the neighbors, not my pants) invariably fill the air with pot smoke and/or cotton candy vape stink every time it’s nice out, so I guess we’re even. 

In the afternoon, Benny asked me to show her how to make flower crowns, and then Corrie came out and Benny showed her. So we all had crowns and were happy princesses of the springtime. 

For dinner, we had Chicago-style hot dogs, more or less. I couldn’t find pickled peppers and nobody really likes pickle relish, so we had them with chopped onions and tomatoes, pickle spears, mustard, and celery salt.

Gotta say, these really are excellent hot dogs. Wish I had sprung for better quality buns, but they were very yummy. As far as I know, this is the sole reason for the existence of celery salt. 

MONDAY
Pizza

Monday morning, I went to pick up a kayak someone in town was giving away!

It does have a crack, but it’s on the top, and we can use plastic welding to make it watertight again. I super enjoyed my short trip out into the dirt road part of town. 

Nothing but birdsong going on. So lovely. 

I don’t really know what I did all the rest of the day. It suddenly got hot (high 80’s, which I realize is not hot for some people in May, but we are still getting frost warnings here!). I do remember weeding around St. Joseph and fretting because I hadn’t planted any summer-blooming perennials there — and then discovering some lupine seedlings. 

So that’s settled! Probably they are purple, but I don’t really know where they came from, so they could be any color. 

For supper we had pizza. I made a mere two pizzas, one plain cheese, one pepperoni. 

TUESDAY
Buffalo chicken drumsticks, pasta salad

Tuesday I did a whole bunch of weeding in the backyard, and there are all kinds of things popping up that I forgot I planted. Then it got REALLY hot. You know how candy thermometers have markings on them — soft ball, hard crack, and so on. (And of course fish donut, for my long-time readers.) Well, if I had a personal thermometer, when it gets up past 85, it would be marked “no brain.” Or possibly Wise Men of Chelm. 

What happened is, I was laying some chicken drumsticks out on a pan and thinking about clean up. I’ve been hounding the kids to do a better job cleaning, but the soft-hearted part of me feels bad about making messes they have to clean. So first I thought to line the pan with tin foil, but sometimes meat sticks to the tinfoil. So I thought parchment paper, but I knew I was running a little low. So then I thought, oh heck, I can just cover the pan with a second pan! Then it will stay perfectly cl—

oh, wait. 

Which reminded me of The Wise Men of Chelm, a story which can be found in Isaac Bashevis Singer’s Zlateh the Goat and Other Stories, which is masterfully illustrated by the great Maurice Sendak. In one story, it snows in the village of Chelm, and the elders believe silver, diamonds, and pearls have fallen from the sky. Their money troubles are over! But they soon realize they must warn the villagers not to come out of their homes and trample the treasure.  What to do? 

Silly Tudras had an idea.

“Let’s send a messenger to knock on all the windows and let the people know that they must remain in their houses until all the silver, all the pearls, and all the diamonds are safely gathered up.”

For a while the Elders were satisfied. They rubbed their hands in approval of the clever idea. But then Dopey Lekisch called out in consternation, “The messenger himself will trample the treasure.”

The Elders realized that Lekisch was right, and again they wrinkled their high foreheads in an effort to solve the problem.

“I’ve got it!” exclaimed Shmerel the Ox. “Tell us, tell us,” pleaded the Elders.

“The messenger must not go on foot. He must be carried on a table so that his feet will not tread on the precious snow.”

Everybody was delighted with Shmerel the Ox’s solution; and the Elders, clapping their hands, admired their own wisdom.

The Elders immediately sent to the kitchen for Gimpel the errand boy and stood him on a table. Now who was going to carry the table? It was lucky that in the kitchen there were Treitle the cook, Berel the potato peeler, Yukel the salad mixer, and Yontel, who was in charge of the community goat. All four were ordered to lift up the table on which Gimpel stood. Each one took hold of a leg. On top stood Gimpel, grasping a wooden hammer with which to tap on the villagers’ windows. Off they went.

Click through for the picture of me figuring out how to keep my pan clean

Anyway, I put down some parchment paper and roasted the chicken with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, then glopped some buffalo sauce on it, cooked it a little longer, glopped on some more and cooked it some more. 

Then I made some pasta salad. I used radiatori, and I looked it up, and it is indeed named after radiators.  I rinsed the cooked pasta to cool it down, then added . . . let’s see, olive oil, white wine vinegar, asparagus tips from my garden, chopped olives, bits of pepperoni, leftover tomatoes and onions from the hot dogs, salt, pepper, oregano, and garlic powder, leftover red pesto from Mother’s Day sandwiches, chopped sugar snap peas, leftover feta from who knows what, and some grated parmesan. 

We had some appointments in the afternoon, and the receptionist at one place said to me, “You ARE dressed for the hot weather!” Why did she say that? At first I felt bad, because why did she say that? Then I felt good, because I’m not the only one out there yapping weird stuff.

Then we came home and had cold buffalo chicken and pasta salad, and it was a very good hot weather meal. 

Looks like I ate outside, either because it was cooler outside than inside, or possibly it was so hot I didn’t want to be with anyone, so I went outside. 

WEDNESDAY
Chicken burgers, raw vegetables

Wednesday Clara took me out for lunch! We had a delightful meal at the Fresh Day Cafe, which is an Eastern European-themed spot in Keene. I had avocado toast on a wonderful dark, seedy bread, with fresh cheese and pomegranate seeds, and Clara got pierogies with bacon and scallions. We both had Turkish coffee, and everything was absolutely delicious. A VERY pleasant spot, run by the absolute nicest people. 

After lunch we did a little thrifting, and both talked ourselves out of numerous foolish purchases. I did come away with two table fans and a peach pitter, which I NEEDED. 

Supper was chicken burgers, leftover pasta salad, and a bunch of raw veggies. 

This looks like such a sensible, restrained plate, except then I went back and has seconds and then thirds on pasta salad. I just find that radiator shape irresistible. 

THURSDAY
Butter chicken, rice, flatbread, kachumber salad, mango

Thursday it finally cooled down, which was good, because the last thing on the menu was butter chicken, which I was looking forward to, but I really didn’t wanna cook it (or eat it) on a hot day.

In the morning, I did all the prep. Not exactly mise en place, but I assembled the gang

and more or less followed the recipe from RecipeTinEats. I had a bunch of driving to do during the day, so I started the chicken marinating, and right before I left, I made some dough for flatbread, using this taboon recipe I have settled on.

Jump to Recipe

I hurt my arm sometime in the past few weeks, and it’s gotten worse and worse, so I was smart enough to realize I would not want to be crouching over a pan flipping naan; but butter chicken really wants some kind of bread. When I got home, I started some rice cooking in the Instant Pot. I thought I had a big sack of basmati rice, but it was actually jasmine, oh well! Then I started the butter chicken cooking, and then I made something new to me: A kachumber salad. I read a few recipes and then wung it. 

This is a mixture of chopped-up tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, cilantro, salt, pepper, a bit of fresh minced jalapeño, white wine vinegar, fresh lemon juice, a lot of cumin, a medium amount of dark chili powder, and I think that is it? It is essentially Indian pico de gallo, and wow, it’s wonderful. 

“Kachumber” comes from the Hindi word kachumbar, which means shredding or chopping. It is not, to my sorrow, related to “cucumber,” which is etymologically mysterious. I did learn this:

In 1790s the pronunciation “cowcumber” was standard except in western England dialects and “coocumber” was considered pedantic, but 30 years later, with the spread of literacy and education “cowcumber” was limited to the ignorant and old-fashioned.

To think! We could have been putting cowcumber in our choppy-choppy salad all along, but for the snobbery of nations. 

LOTS of cultures have some variety of this dish, and I’m so delighted to have found this one. Damien loved it, too. I think next time, I will try a little amchur powder and mint. Hoo de hoo hoo! I put it together just before supper, because I didn’t want it to get soggy. 

I was nervous about the bread, because usually I make taboon in one big slab, and serve a juicy chicken dish on top of it. But this time I separated the dough into eight pieces and stretched them into rounds, then dimpled them with my fingers as usual.

I had no idea if they would meld into one piece, or shrink up, or what. I baked them and they turned out so good! They kept their size and shape, but puffed up nicely (like spongy bread, not separating into a pocket like pita), and were just lightly browned on the bottom. Here they are baked, with one flipped over:

I could have brushed them with butter and given them maybe a sprinkle of herbs or something, but they were great as they were. A little chewy, quite salty, and a happy addition to this meal. 

I had some extra chicken, and because most of the kids are not crazy about butter chicken, took the extra and dusted it with flour, salt, and pepper, and fried it up in butter. Something for everyone. I also found some mint chutney and some tamarind chutney, and everything was delightful. 

Also on Thursday evening, SOMEONE TOOK THE ACADIA AWAY. This terrible, terrible car has been giving me tsuris for years now, long after it stopped running. And now it is gone! Hooray!

FRIDAY
Quesadillas, tortilla chips and salsa, salad

I picked up the kids with the half day, stopped at the thrift store for more fat pants, stopped at the town garden club sale for some dahlia tubers, went to adoration, got the kids, stopped at the store for a birthday present, picked up some prescriptions, and now I am home, feeling great. Looks like the curse of the frozen mocha missed me this time! I’m not going to tempt fate and try these all the time. But next time I’m feeling like garbage and my body is trying to convince me that all I need is a gas station drink, I guess I’ll listen! 

taboon bread

You can make separate pieces, like pita bread, or you can make one giant slab of taboon. This makes enough to easily stretch over a 15x21" sheet pan.

Ingredients

  • 6 cups bread flour
  • 4 packets yeast
  • 3 cups water
  • 2 Tbsp salt
  • 1/3 cup olive oil

Instructions

  1. Mix the flour, salt, and yeast in the bowl of a standing mixer.

  2. While it is running, add the olive oil. Then gradually add the water until the dough is soft and sticky. You may not need all of it. Let it run for a while to see if the dough will pull together before you need all the water. Knead or run with the dough hook for another few minutes.

  3. Put the dough in a greased bowl, grease the top, and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm spot for at least an hour until it has doubled in size.

  4. Preheat the oven to 400. Put a greased pan or a baking stone in the oven to heat up.

  5. If you are making separate pieces, divide it now and cover with a damp cloth. If you're making one big taboon, just handle it a bit, then put it back in the bowl and cover it with a damp cloth. Let rest ten minutes.

  6. Using a little flour, roll out the dough into the shape or shapes you want. Poke it all over with your fingertips to give it the characterstic dimpled appearance.

  7. Bake for 10-12 minutes until it's just slightly browned.