A little of this . . .

And stitches cast on for my first sweater for myself (the Shalom cardigan).Ben’s World’s Warmest Hat is halfway done (he tried mine on and had to have one of his own), and Ella’s Provence sweater got finished before all the snow melted – hooray!  One note: this pattern was quick and simple, except there aren’t really instructions for how to piece it together – I used the mattress stitch and piecing instructions from Knit One For Baby by Melanie Falick.

Some of the stitching didn’t come out quite perfect (note to self – don’t use a chart and try to talk at the same time.)  But it’s still pretty sweet, and I think it’ll fit my little bean even next fall.Wow, when I put it all together that seems like a lot of crafting.  How fun.  What are you working on today?

What a day!  Ben and our fellow farmer and friend Seth spent the day in Burlington at the Northern Grain Growers Winter Conference.  Ella and I started boiling our sap and took our first bike ride of the year.  We’d planned to boil sap in late March, but the weather has been so warm that I think the sap may be near the end of its run, plus I was worried about the sap spoiling if we didn’t start it going.  So, somewhat to my amazement, I managed to get it going today, using this somewhat kooky set-up from previous years (we had dreams of building a real brick set up this year.  Oh well!).

Exciting!  We had a picnic lunch out by the cold frames Ben built, and soon we’ve be harvesting salads from them – hard to believe.  I suppose since winter started early this year, an early spring makes sense . . . sort of. I’m trying to just enjoy it.

On to the Barley Carrot Kugel!  This is one of the first recipes I tried from Whole Grains Every Day Every Way when we first got grains in.  It’s quite tasty, and I’ve made quite a few changes – the biggest one is that instead of just carrots, I use part apples or root vegetables (as you’ll see below).  This really adds a nice round flavor, while still keeping the recipe simple, and so easy to prepare.  Definitely kid friendly, this is also a great one to make ahead, and bake at dinner.

(I know I have a photo of this kugel, but can’t find it anywhere!  I’ll have to make it again just to photograph it.  The photo above is of raw barley from our share.)

Barley Carrot Kugel

butter (to grease a 8-in square baking dish)

4 large eggs

3 Tbsp honey

2 tbsp butter, melted

1/2 tsp salt

2 cups cooked barley (instructions follow below)

3 cups peeled, grated carrots

1 cup grated apples, beets, parsnips, rutabaga, celeriac, or turnip (truly, these are all good, and allow nice variations on the same dish!)

1/3 cup raisins (optional)

1/2 cup walnuts or pecans, toasted and chopped

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.  Lightly grease a 8-in square baking dish with butter, and set aside.

In a large bowl, lightly beat the eggs.  Blend in 2 tbsp of the honey, the butter, and salt.  Stire in the barley, carrots, apples/root veggies, raisins if desired, and walnuts.

Pour the mixture into the pan, and drizzle the remaining tbsp of honey over the top.  Bake uncovered until the kugel is firm in the center and lightly golden, about 45 minutes.  If the top browns too much before it firms up, you can cover it with foil to finish it.

Take out of the oven, and cool for 5 minutes before serving.  You can either scoop it with a spoon, or cut it into wedges and lift it out with a pie server.

To cook whole barley: 
1 cup barley
3 cups water
pinch salt
2 qt pot

This will yield 2 cups cooked barley.  Bring the water and salt to a rolling boil.  Turn off the heat to avoid boil-overs.  Add the barley, and return to a boil over medium heat.  Reduce heat, cover, and simmer 40-55 minutes.  To test for doneness – the barley will be tender but still chewy, and one color throughout when cut in half lengthwise.  Drain off any unabsorbed water, and return barley to the pot.  Cover, and allow to rest off the heat for 5-10 minutes.
You can also bake this in the oven, After adding the barley to the boiling water, place it in a 350 degrees F oven, in a covered pot.

Bon Appetit!

Well, in truth, with all this unseasonal (and freaky but beautiful) warmth, we’re sort of simultaneously in hunger moon and sap moon right now.  A little tired of the same root veggies perhaps, but when I think about the fact that usually this was the starving time – when winter supplies have run low, but no veggies or wild edibles are really available yet, I don’t feel too sorry for myself.

We got our last share from our winter veggie CSA last week, which means I have my last stash of fresh celeriac, beets, potatoes, onions, cabbages, parsnips, rutubagas, turnips, and carrots.  We won’t get another CSA share until The Kitchen Garden’s begins the first week of June – three months!  It was time to eat some chocolate, take a deep breath, and take stock of what was left in our late winter kitchen.  Amazingly, I found a ridiculous abundance.  (Due, in no small part, to the amazing canning efforts of last year’s WOOFer, Jeanine.)  Not to mention that soon, thanks to Ben, we’ll have fresh greens out in our newly built cold frame!  Wow.

I unearthed everything from the deep freezer, set aside what didn’t seem to have made it (some kale, some tomatoes) to feed to the chickens, and counted it up, then put it back in.  Neatly.  (Crazy, huh?  In the mad rush at harvest time, it seems a miracle anything gets preserved at all.)  Then I counted all the canned food we had left.  It was thrilling to see how much we have, and also to see what I need to start using.  My favorite discovery, which I had no idea was hiding in the deep freeze: 3 quart jars of raspberries from our garden.  Three quarts!  This feels shamefully lucky.

So, without further ado – our menu this week.  I’ll be back tomorrow to share a yummy Barley-Carrot Kugel recipe.

Notes from last week:

I made this sourdough pasta, which Kelley recommended (thank you!).  I’d never even heard of sourdough pasta before, but had to try it of course!  This is a great way to use your starter, keeping it fresh and happy.  I only made half the recipe, and it still made two meals worth for us – one with pesto, the other with the Swedish Meatballs.  It was super delicious, and I’ll definitely do it again.  Especially with those meatballs.  Yum!

*Granola (from Whole Grains Every Day, Every Way by Lorna Sass)

* Enchiladas with Mole Sauce (found in the freezer!) ans swiss chard

* Straciatella (Roman Egg Drop Soup) with Kale (from Full Moon Feast by Jessica Prentice)

* Rye Grits with Sausage and Potatoes (from Whole Grains Every Day, Every Way by Lorna Sass)

* Leek, Celeriac, and Beet Soup (from Farmer John’s Cookbook by John Peterson; I’ll be using onions not leeks)

* Maple-Glazed Carrots and Parsnips roasted in the oven

* Carrot-Beet Muffins (from Farmer John’s Cookbook by John Peterson; using leftover Disappearing Carrot Salad from last week, and substituting a small amount of maple syrup for the sugar)

* Boston Brown Bread (from The New Laurel’s Kitchen by Laurel Robertson, Carol L. Flinders, and Brian Ruppenthal )

* Kale or Green Beans with Tangy Cheese Sauce (from The New Laurel’s Kitchen by Laurel Robertson, Carol L. Flinders, and Brian Ruppenthal )

* Ben’s Simple Emmer – recipe below

* Goat Chops (so surprised when these showed up in our meat share!)

* Porterhouse Steak

* The Lady Killigrew’s Brown Rice Salad, with wheatberries instead of brown rice – their recipe is kindly shared here

* Jambalaya (I use the recipe from the incredible Encyclopedia of Cajun & Creole Cuisine by John Folse)

Ben’s Simple Emmer

1/2 cup emmer
1 cup water
pinch salt
2 tbsp butter
Parmesan cheese

Bring water to a boil in a 2 qt pot.  Add emmer and a pinch of salt, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes, or until tender but not mushy to taste.  (You can also cut open a grain to test – the interior should all be one color).  Let rest off the heat for ten minutes, then drain off any excess water.  Stir in butter, add more salt to taste, and grate some Parmesan cheese on top.  Bon Appetit!

Alright folks, this is your last chance.  If you live in our beautiful Pioneer Valley, we have only a few spots left in the local bread share program.  If you didn’t get a grain share this year, (or if you did but you’re not a bread baker) this is a great way to have delicious, fresh bread made from 100% locally grown wheat on your table every week!

The nuts and bolts are:  A Local Bread Share is $175 for a 6 month share, with one loaf of bread per week.  If you are interested, you can bring a deposit to Wheatberry, 321 Main St in Amherst MA.  Once we have the spaces filled, we’ll tell you the pick up day and time, and we’ll start making these truly special, delicious loaves.

Check out Ben’s original post for more photos and the story behind these beauties.  See you tomorrow for Monday Night Menu!

This week, I’d like to take a few moments to be grateful for a daughter who’s two and a half.  There’s plenty of challenges at each age to be sure, and it is so easy to wish for things they did when they were smaller, or all the things they will do, someday.  A good reason to stop and think about some of the delights I’m enjoying right now.

Each day’s discoveries – that the red handle is hot water and the blue is cold, that Wendy and windy sound the same, that vinegar and baking soda make an awesome fizzing explosion when you clean the drains.

Walking up and down the stairs by herself.  Hallelujah.

Her joy in being outside, rolling around in the snow, stomping through the mud, nuzzling the sheep.

Reading together – oh how I love reading books together, her small frame in my lap, listening to a story, “again and again and again and again.”

Cooking together – my bean loves to stir, add seasonings, measure, and pour, sitting on the counter while I make dinner.

Playing pretend – anything can be anything, and Ella, especially, can be anyone.

Wishing you some moments of gratitude for what’s in your life right now.  Have a wonderful weekend everyone.

Do you see how tantalizingly close this sweater is?  Must. finish.

Even though truly warm weather is a ways off, and I’ll probably still be wearing the occasional sweater in May, my little polar bear was already walking around in short sleeves yesterday.

And also, some new words.  Definitely in progress, but here we go.

* * *

March

by Adrie Lester

Not yet

ready,

but here we are.  The moon, full,

startling on the snow.  The taps

on the maple trees, gathering, pulling out

that life blood, as if we thought

it was owed us.  And what is owed us?

This night, this moon?

Or this breath, in

out, ours for now, soon to be taken back

and taken

forward.

(c) 2010

Or at least, my dishes and laundry.

First, let’s back up to last month’s pledge to say goodbye to the grocery store.   I was definitely tempted a few time, but once my mind accepted that there was not going to be any grocery trips this month, I didn’t really think about it very much.  Which was a relief.  Sometimes choices, instead of freeing us, seem to create mind clutter – having the option of running out to the store to get just a few things, for me, is one of those.  I actually started this step in mid-January, and I did end up going to the coop last Saturday (one day before the end of the month!).  What did I buy?  Cheese.  I just couldn’t take eating the same three cheeses from the bakery any more.  I almost drove all the way to Northampton for the Winter Farmer’s Market, to see if anyone there had cheese, but Ben convinced me I was being nutty (I think he was right).  So, I bought cheese, a few local apples, a few bananas as a rare treat for Ella, a pint of locally made ice cream, and we had some lunch while we were there.  Overall, I’m really grateful for the past month and a half, for showing me how possible it is to, at least, shop very infrequently, and with a lot more care.

Onward!  Welcome to my kitchen sink.  I’ve been thinking about the possibility of hand-washing our clothes for years now.  Last spring, reading the incredible Mary Jane’s Idea Book, Cook Book, Life Book, I read about a woman who currently washes her family’s clothes by hand, with a washboard.  She described doing that day’s dirty clothes each day, and I felt, suddenly, that I was not completely cracked to be considering this.  Here, in print, was someone else who was actually doing it, had been doing it for years, and felt there was something of value in doing so.  So, I ordered a glass washboard and wringer (new – couldn’t find them in our local used/antique stores, and it wasn’t something I was comfortable getting used online) last summer, and they’ve been patiently waiting for me.

(Ella washing dishes in Montreal, January 2010)

In December, we started washing our dishes by hand, which also seemed a little scary at first.  I love it.  I love not having to unload a huge dishwasher full of dishes, while always having waiting dirty dishes piling up.  I love not hearing the machine.  I know there is a dispute that using a dishwasher (loaded fully) is more water-efficient that hand-washing, but of course this depends how you wash your dishes by hand.  (I use the “drought” technique from Ellen Sandbeck’s excellent Organic Housekeeping).

One of the things Ben and I think about a lot is true efficiency versus the illusion of efficiency.  Dishwashers (and washing machines) are supposed to be convenient, and time-savers, right?  With handwashing, we found that we spent about the same amount of time on the dishes (but it was more pleasant, and something our whole family could do together).  Beyond that actual time, when you consider the time spent working to pay for the dishwasher, the electricity to run it, the repairs to maintain it, the footprint in your kitchen . . . Well, to us, it seems that dishwashers fall into the category of “efficiency illusion.”  To my surprise, my absolute favorite part of the day currently is spent washing the day’s dishes after dinner, listening to Ben and Ella read books together in the living room.

So, bolstered by our success with the dishes, I feel ready to take on the laundry!

Why hand-wash laundry?  Folks who hand-wash say, most notably, that washing machines are only good at cleaning clean clothes.  One shocking fact is that when washing machines were introduced, the time women spent doing laundry remained the same (my guess is that we cleaned more laundry – since it seems so “easy,” we aren’t careful to wash only those items that really need it).  A washing machine washes the whole garment, with no special attention to dirty spots, which you pay attention to by hand.  Washing machines also put a lot of stress on clothes, reducing their life.  (Hmmm, hastily made clothes by big companies, washed in machines that break them down further, causing us to buy more clothes more often – sound like a plan for making money?)

Also, I have found more and more in my life that I like doing work by hand.  Colin Beavin writes beautifully about this in No Impact Man, where he did most of the housework, and so does Amanda Blake Soule in Handmade Home (and many others, I’m sure – check out Kyrie’s thoughts here).  The idea that housework is drudgery sells a whole lot of products, and also compels more and more of us into the paid workforce, adding to the almighty GDP.

Part of my motivation is that our washer/dryer currently live in the kitchen (why oh why?).  We moved the dryer into our pantry last month as part of our cleaning frenzy (we never use it anyway).  I have gotten quotes from plumbers to move the washer there (over $1,000 – no thanks!).  If hand-washing turns out to be something we would like to continue, we could unplug the washer and move it out, too!  Oh, the thought is almost too exciting.  (Ben, by the way, has been working for at least a year to be very conscientious about his clothing, so that our laundry loads are greatly reduced – I followed his example.)

So, I’ll be hand-washing our laundry this month.  I started yesterday (Monday is my laundry day), and so far so good!  I did our sheets first (washed in the bathtub, since they’re too big for the kitchen sink), and when I went to put the king-sized flannel sheet through the wringer, I was nervous, but it fit through!  (Ella couldn’t resist the wringer, which reminds me a lot of a pasta maker.)  The wringer really does take out an amazing amount of water – some things actually come through feeling almost dry.  It was so sunny and mild, even with snow on the ground, that I hung one of our sheets outside on the line to dry – the first of the season!  Drudgery, or beauty?

(Don’t forget to check out some of the other folks making changes this month – inspiring!  Also, the spring edition of Rhythm of the Home is up and amazing.)  Here’s to March!

Guilt is such a funny thing.  Sometimes it seems as though we can get ahead only by feeling guilty, trying to work harder, and trying to control our world more.  And then, driven to the breaking point, we break a little, and in doing so, we relax our white-knuckled grip.  Instead of our world spinning out of control into chaos, we find ourselves having a good time, and getting more done, to boot.

After yesterday’s reminder to remember imperfection’s blessings, today was a gift.  Ella was with a babysitter for a few hours this morning, and I got a lot of work done at the bakery.  We all came home, she napped, I started soup for dinner, worked on laundry, we all read books and played.  And then, I took Ella out to the “barn” (our garage, which is now half-filled by a horse stall, chicken coop, and a lot of hay, so we call it the barn), to feed the horse and sheep their dinner before we sat down to ours.  I set her down among the hay bales, lugged one bale up the hill and spread it out for everyone (Cole running in circles around me doing ninja-kicks to scare the sheep away so he got the first bites).  When I came back into the barn, my girl was happily playing in the hay, tumbling around, sliding, jumping.  It was dinnertime, there was more laundry work to be done, but I sat down in the hay with her and we played, jumping and giggling.

Just as I was thinking that this is one of the things I am glad to offer her – hay and time to play in it, she turned to me and said, “I am so lucky!” and gave me a huge hug.  Incredible.  I took some photos of her and she said to me, “Thank you Mama, for taking pictures of my silly faces.”  We stayed as long as I could (it was getting pretty chilly!), and then we walked out, saying hello to all the animals, watching the dogs roll around in the snow.  An ordinary day, blessed in its imperfection.

Thank you for all your kind words yesterday, and be sure to check out this post at Threading Light – we were having some of the same thoughts!

***

And speaking of ordinary things, here is this week’s menu.   A few quick notes – if my menus seem like a lot of food, that’s for two reasons.  One is that I don’t always cook everything on my list.  Two is that we try to eat leftovers for lunch, and also one night a week is a leftover night dinner, so I’m cooking more than just seven meals.

* Polenta Torta (I’m pretty sure this is from Alice Waters’s The Art of Simple Food)

* Pork Loin Roasted with Balsamic Vinegar, Dried Rosemary, and Garlic

* Beef Barley Stew

* Homemade Pasta (I couldn’t resist after seeing so many folks recently making their own! I’ll be using the recipe from Laurel’s Kitchen), turned into Hungarian Noodles (Laurel’s Kitchen) or just cooked with some pesto from the freezer

* Whole Grain Blini (Laurel’s Kitchen), Roasted Beets, and Sauteed Cabbage

* Swedish Meatballs (from Full Moon Feast by Jessica Prentice)

* Cream of Parsnip Soup (from Full Moon Feast by Jessica Prentice)

* Disappearing Carrot Salad (Laurel’s Kitchen), minus the raisins

* Kale-Potato Soup (using the recipe from Farmer John’s Cookbook – we made this a few weeks ago and it was ridiculously good.  Soul warming.)

From last week, the Corn Spoonbread was awesome (I grew up in the South, but I’m not sure I’ve ever had Spoonbread before – yummy!!).  We ate it with the onion tart and kale farinata, and it was a stunning combo.

Bon Appetit, and blessings on your week.

This post started as thoughts mostly related to motherhood, but I think it applies to us all – mothers/fathers, wives/husbands, employees/employers, etc . . . I found this post of Nicola’s on A Step Toward Balance last month, signed up to join, and then forgot about it (you can laugh now – the irony is not lost on me!) Here, belatedly, is a first step – remembering the blessings of imperfection.

Mostly, here is a note to my future self – may you find some grain of truth here, too.

(myself and Ella, 2007 – photo by Ben)

Note to self:

Imperfection is a blessing. After weeks of feeling a sort of mounting panic – too many jobs to do, never enough time to do them, which important work must be left undone?, this gentle reminder from Ben – I am the one pushing myself.  No one else.

I have had this thought before, but I seem to need to constantly remind myself, that imperfection is a blessing.  It’s said that the Shakers, who were incredible craftspeople, purposefully flawed each item they made, because only God is perfect.  It is so easy to feel that we must do everything, and if not perfectly, at least really really well.  But: if we were perfect, what would be left to learn?  But: if I was perfect, what would be left for my child to create for herself, and her children?  Along with my “perfection,” I would be giving her the need to live up to my perfection, and a life of unattainable goals.

So.  A reminder of the blessing of imperfections.

My house – not perfectly clean, and it never will be.  Welcoming, hopefully.

Our farm – far from perfect, ever-evolving, sometimes blissful, sometimes out of control.

Our businesses – still young, still bumpy, still chaotic at times.  Run with heart.

My wardrobe – not chic, not perfectly pressed.  In various states of toddler, farm, and bakery wear and tear.  Well lived in.

My self – learning, striving for kindness (often failing), trying for gratitude (often forgetting).  Hoping to do good in the world, but not at the expense of my family’s sanity.  Here.  Alive.  Imperfectly blessed.

(winter 2010)

Here at our house, Ben has been maniacally starting flats of seeds.  He decided that this would be the year to kick the plastic seed-flat habit (gross, breakable, disposable, ugly, totally un-environmental, and completely ubiquitous in the farming world).

So Ben has starting using soil blocks, a la Eliot Coleman (check out his books for instructions – we bought ours here).  We tried putting the soil blocks inside plastic flats int he past, but the flats always bend when they’re moved, and break the soil blocks, destroying the fragile seedlings.  So Ben has been constructing these simple boxes – beautiful, and of course, longer-lasting.  He’s also making our first Dutch Lights (aka cold frame), which we’re super excited about!

We have a small, kooky glass porch off the north side of our house that we put seedlings in as the weather allows.  The Dutch Lights will start off in there (with supplemental heat from seed mats), and then I think we’ll try moving it out to the garden for our first hot bed with some manure from Cole.  Exciting . . .

(In case you’re wondering, we’ve started onions, kale, beets, cabbage, arugula, and lettuces.)  One of my favorite things about starting seeds is the reminder of each tiny spark of life.  How we can choose to experience that miracle, again and again.  How the seeds first come up with their “seed leaves,” which all look similar, and then begin to grow their “true” leaves.

On an unrelated note, my package from the Vintage Swap arrived this week from the lovely Julia at Adirondack Mama.  Thank you Julia!  Beautiful fabrics, and Ella immediately dove into the rickrack, as you can see above.

See you soon for Monday’s menus.