we belong to each other

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.

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:

Exploring

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

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

Turns out I need some practice with the skipping.

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.

2. Pour it into a bowl with some culture. You could use a few spoons of yogurt (even soy or rice or coconut) or kefir, just make sure that it has live cultures.

3. Set it in a warm place for at least 18 hours or until it smells sour. We like to put it on the top of the stove or inside the oven, the pilot light is just the right amount of heat. The cultures like it warm, around 80 degrees.

4. Stick it in the fridge. If you aren’t in the mood to do the whole song and dance of making it just now, you can leave it in the fridge for a day or so, but when you’re ready to get churning let it sit out for an hour or so to reach a higher temp. You want it around the mid 60′s.

5. When you’re ready to get started, gather the following:

• a few cups of ice water
• a mixer or blender
• a container for your buttermilk
• containers for your butter
• any herbs or spices you want to add into the butter (we like thyme, rosemary, and lavender)

6. Unless you are using a hand blender or mixer, pour your cultured cream into the proper container.

7. Begin mixing.

Eventually it will pass from whipped cream to little curds, like this:

You’re almost there!

What you’re waiting for its for is the separation of the butter and the buttermilk. It will get all sloshy, like this:

8. Pour out the buttermilk, careful not to get any butter in with it (you may want to use a colander or cheesecloth) and save it for something fun like pancakes or irish soda bread or ice cream or a lassi.

9. Here’s where the ice water comes in. Pour some into the bowl with your butter and knead. Pour it out and repeat until the water is clear.

10. If you don’t want to salt or flavor your butter, congratulations! Your all set to move to step 11. However, if you want to add some stuff (recommended), do it now. Mix it in :)

11. It’s time to pack it in the containers. We like to use ramkins and cover them in plastic wrap. If your butter does not reach the top of your container, no worries, just cover it in a bit of water. If you’re not going to use it all within a week, just stick it in the freezer until you’re ready.

Now go make some toast <3

Pineapple Vinegar

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

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

Fire walk with me

NEWSFLASH: We’re out, yo.

Come May 1, 2009 we are moving out of the desert and into an old fire station near the forest of the snow owl (see B). Eagles will rest on our shoulders as we pick wild berries and we will learn great truths from the ferny depths. There will be mushrooms and ocean and cool dudes on motorcycles. We may meet this friend. There will most def be lots of musics and “art” and references to these symbols:

Department of Safety! (We are going to live there.)

We must heed the call of the mountains.

GET SOME WHILE YOU CAN. We are.

Where have all the textures gone?

We used to think that the “Southern Blend” greens mix from Trader Joe’s was pretty good…

It’s not.

After months without a taste of store-bought greens, let alone BAGGED produce, we did not know what we were in for: my god, we had no idea.

After our 10 day song and dance vacay up in the great northwest we were tired and in need of some serious restoration. Oh, who am I kidding. After the first few days M’s input into the meal discussions consisted of “soup and salad” accompanied by a faint and wistful, “I just want what we have at home.” It was awkward. Our companions’ blank stares were no doubt filled with memories of the french fry enthusiast of yore.

Anyways, we got back on Sunday afternoon, thereby missing our regular farmer’s market. After long deliberation, we had decided not to order the CSA box to be picked up at another location so that we could keep on schedule and not waste food (you’ve seen the pictures, that’s a lot of produce for two people to finish in 7 days, let alone 4). We opted to suck it up and shop at the store this week.

DUDE.

No wonder people aren’t as obsessed with greens as we are!?! Tasteless! Limp! A sham! It was a true disgrace to the glory of the mustard and collard. And who could blame them? After being trapped and shipped, those poor little dudes were—just like our post-travel plane and bus ride selves—no more than a hologram. (Don’t even get me started on the apples, but that was no shocker.)

It was a rough week, at least the greens part. All I can say is, thank heaven for soup: the ever humble and always noble dish.

I would like to add that the unbagged produce from a supermarket, as glistening and crisp as it may be, bares no mark to the freshness of farmer’s market jewels either. Time is everything, no?

Not everyone has the luxury of a year-round csa or farmer’s markets. But maybe you have access to farm stands or a small area to grow things (windowsill, container, yard, roof, abandoned pubic area) or areas to forage.

DO IT FOR THE TASTE MY FRIENDS. Do it for the mustard green, it deserves to be remembered for it’s true spice and vigor. Therein lies the happiness and life that you are incorporating it into your self for, don’t waste your chews.

Farmer’s Market: February 22

• Bloomsdale Spinach
• Broccoli
• Carrots
• Cilantro
• Collard Greens
• Kale
  • Blue
  • Red
  • Tuscan
• Kohl Rabi
• Mustard Greens
• Parsley
• Radishes
• Rainbow Chard
• Red Beets

• Buckwheat Honey
• Fuji Apples
• Ginger
• Tangerines
• Tomatoes

Highlights

• A challenge: Finish it all in four days.

Farmer’s Market: February 15

• Beets
  • Chiogga
  • Red
• Bloomsdale Spinach
• Broccoli
• Carrots
• Cilantro
• Collard Greens
• Kale
  • Blue
  • Red
  • Tuscan
• Kohl Rabi
• Mustard Greens
• Parsley
• Radishes
• Rainbow Chard

• Fingerling Potatoes
• Fuji Apples
• Garlic
• Ginger
• Onions
• Parsnip
• Raisins (from Burkart Farms again. Can’t get enough of these!)
• Sweet Potatoes
  • Japanese
  • Orange
  • White
• Tangerines (from a different seller this week – much more sweet and seedy)
• Walnuts

Highlights

• Bread pudding from Caffe Etc. that was extremely satisfying.
• David Ha from Ha’s Apple Farm remarking that we eat a lot of apples.

Farmer’s Market: February 8

• Beets
  • Chiogga
  • Red
• Bloomsdale Spinach
• Broccoli
• Buttercrunch Lettuce
• Carrots
• Cilantro
• Collard Greens
• Kale
  • Blue
  • Red
  • Tuscan
• Mustard Greens
• Parsley
• Rainbow Chard

• Acorn Squash
• Avocado Honey
• Black Eyed Peas
• Fuji Apples
• Garlic
• Ginger
• Onions
• Japanese Sweet Potatoes
• Tangerines