Lake Swimming

Have you ever done this? Man, lake swimming is pretty amazing. Part of growing and living in “SoCal” is the ocean, you don’t have lakes. Lakes are something entirely different. They have a different kind of mystery. The ocean can be brash and noisy, but lakes are more quiet about their secrets, they silently suffer.

trafton

Although I miss the salty waves and bobbing around in the swell, I have fallen in love with swimming in lakes. Lakes are something we have an abundance here on beautiful Fidalgo Island. There are like ten. So far, my favorite is Trafton (pictured above). I was told that it is very magical and I believe it. It was made by a meteor. The water is the color of rust. Much darker than any of the other lakes.

But isn’t this an island, you ask, isn’t there ocean surrounding you on all sides? Well, yes, that is true, but it is not like La Jolla Cove with its rhythmic waves and tickling Garibaldi. The ocean is more like a bay—and it is very cold—even for Lynne Cox, maybe. There is one “swimming” beach nearby though, it is waist deep forever:

ocean-gus

Exploring

With a baguette and coffee in hand, we drove around the perimeter of Fidalgo Island.

crabs

Stopped near a private beach to skip stones and touch oceanic travelers.

Flickr Video

Turns out I need some practice with the skipping.

ocean

Cultured Butter

When I was in my sophomore year of college I spent a semester on a experiential learning term in LA—taking classes, interning, and living with a family from a different cultural background. It’s where I met most of my favorite people. For our urban religious movements class, I chose to do my research project on Judaism mostly because of this book: Traditions in a Rootless World: Women Turn to Orthodox Judaism.

In her book, Lynn Davidman explores the resurgence of Orthodox Judaism among modern American women through the experiences of two distinctly different groups of single Jewish American women as they return to their secular roots at a contemporary Orthodox synagogue (Lincoln Square) in New York City and a Lubovitch Hasidic community (Bais Chana) in St. Paul, Minnesota. The book is comparative throughout and seeks to communicate to a lay audience why traditional religious forms are attractive to contemporary women who have come of age since feminism.

You could, and I will, say that the slow food movement is a parallel battle/journey. From the compost of customs a new plant will rise. Again and again, from structure to unstructured, unstructured into new form. Each phoenix, with it’s own virtues, meets it’s end and is reborn. The post-feminism orthodoxy is new and unable to exist outside of it’s own context; the slow food movement is similarly marked and born from history. 

With each ancient practice relearned, we inevitably encounter. The intersection of time and movement is a strange place.

If not for the health benefits, the environment, the farmers, or the pure ecstasy of taste… make things to encounter. You will be better for it.

There is magic in welcoming outsiders and integrating ourselves into the community of The Other, no? Perhaps this is the heart of my attraction to culturing foods. And so, with each opportunity, we welcome microorganisms and are thus transformed by/through our collaboration. Food becomes easier to digest and convert to energy, we become stronger and more resilient—our palates are rewarded by the wonder of tang and earth. We are better for being open.

Looking for water, we sink out roots deeper. We remember that feelings of rootlessness are a vehicle and not a place.

I think it was back in September when we made out first batch and we have never looked back. Store bought butter tastes like nothing and earth balance, while deliciously nutty, just does not compare—where even are all of those ingredients sourced from? when were they harvested? how much energy has gone into producing it? Anyways…

So here’s the drill: 

1. Get yourself the best quality cream you can. We usually get 2 bottles/cartons of these little dudes. 

cream

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Pineapple Vinegar

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The idle (cough, laid off) mind is the devil’s workshop, and this devil is into fermentation. 

Aching for summer, we folded and bought a pineapple last week. It was the sample, they get us every time with those cubes of fruits and cheese. 

Cool thing I remembered to do with the peel: stick it in a jar, cover it with some sugar + water, wait 3 weeks, and then BAM! you’ve got some fancy vinegar. 

This is a first for me. I’ll let you know how it turns out!

Vinagra de Piña 

(from Wild Fermentation)

Timeframe: 3-4 weeks

Ingredients (for 1 quart/1 liter):

1/4 cup sugar

Peel of 1 pineapple 

Water

Process

1. Dissolve sugar in 1 quart water. Chop and add pineapple peel. Cover with cheesecloth to keep flies out, and leave to ferment at room temp. 

2. When you notice the liquid darkening, after about a week, strain out the pineapple peels and discard. 

3. Ferment the liquid 2-3 weeks more, stirring periodically, and your pineapple vinegar is ready. 

P.S. You can do this with ANY fruit scraps! Should you try it, report back with your discoveries.

Goodbye for now

goodbye-flyer

We are having a party, let us give you a proper goodbye.