August 2009

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Will you look at these beautiful, picked-this-morning tomatoes?   They are a mixture of Early Girl and Willamette.  An aside, here’s a little rhyme for the non-locals for proper pronunciation of the river valley we call home.  It’s Willamette, damn-it!  While we’re here, I might as well go all the way – this fine state I inhabit is called Ory-gun, not Ory-gone.  Glad we cleared that up; you know, because I’m sure it was on your mind!  Anyway, getting back to what I was saying.  I put the tomato plants in the ground, along with some pickling cucumbers, what seems like ages ago, and slowly, slowly, they made fruits and ripened to this perfect state, ready for canning.  This is my third and largest batch.

What is that you say, largest?  Yes, largest.  With my recovery and putting food by, we take it a little bit at a time.   If it weren’t for those meddling kids, I mean slugs (at least for the cucumber plants) and blood loss, I’m sure we’d be doing better: more cucumbers, more zip.  I learned at my last appointment that I lost 1500ml of blood during my surgery, which is about 1/3 of my total volume (yikes!).  It is also the primary reason they couldn’t complete the procedure laparoscopically and why I’ve been so darn tired!

Despite wanting to get all of my healing done pronto or wishing I could can ONE giant batch of tomatoes and pickles, that just isn’t the way of it.  Besides, who am I to argue with the grand plan?  There is no magic button to make blood or ripen vegetables at the precise moment of ultimate convenience, no siree.  But there is that sense of satisfaction in knowing that there is one more tiny piece out of the way, ready to savor now or at the darkest hour of winter.  And savor we shall.

Speaking of savoring, the roses are from my neighbor’s garden (I’ve given up on growing my own – too much work) and smell like heaven.  The binoculars are for bird watching.  I love this little corner of the world!

Housed in what once was an adult video store (buy four, get one free!), walking distance from our house, is a terrific little restaurant called Toast.  We first patronized out of sheer gratitude that they had made what was once a rather creepy eye sore into something truly neighborhood friendly.  However, we continue to go back out of sheer delight, for what it lacks in size (a mere eight tables and bar) it more than compensates for in charm and quality.  Not only is every dish I’ve ever had there delicious, but they source nearly all of their meat and produce from around the great state of Oregon, much from within a few miles of the restaurant, including a few small plots right in the neighborhood.

To top it off, the people who work there are they type you look for in a neighbor: kind, knowledgeable, friendly, and funny.  Take, for example, my favorite breakfast item, the Hippies Use Front Door Granola, no one without a good funny bone would give a clever tongue-in-cheek name like that, and good golly, is it ever yummy!   It’s crunchy, not too sweet, with lots of nuts – perfect.  Topped with ice-cold milk (or yogurt) and seasonal fruit, it’s a breakfast of champions.

Though this isn’t their recipe, it is the one that makes me just as happy to prepare and eat.  Hopefully you’ll like it, too.

Great Granola!

4 cups rolled oats (not quick cooking)

1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut

2/3 cup chopped almonds

1/3 cup wheat bran

1/4 cup flax seeds

1/2 cup neutral tasting oil (I like sunflower)

1/3 cup honey

1/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

1/2 teaspoon molasses

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup dried fruit (Optional – I like cherries and diced apricots)

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  Toss the oats, coconut, wheat bran, flax seeds, and almonds together in a large bowl.  Set aside.  Combine the oil, honey, sugar, molasses, vanilla, and salt together in a small bowl.  Stir well to combine.  Pour over the dry ingredients (don’t add the fruit yet).  This is where it gets fun.  Take off any rings, watches, or bracelets, and thoroughly mix with your hands.  Spread the mixture on a large baking sheet.

When you’re done, have a little fun, and lick your fingers.  Place the pan in the oven and bake for 40 minutes, stirring every 8-10 minutes.  Stir in the fruit during the last ten minutes or so.  Added any earlier, it will be really tough and a serious workout for your jaws!  Remove from oven, and allow to cool.  Store in an airtight container.  It will keep for two weeks, but I’ll bet you finish it much sooner.

Enjoy!

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I lead a very privileged life.  The kind that makes me want to shout from the rooftops in ecstatic joy at all I have: a perfect-for-me husband who is as handsome as can be, a great circle family and friends, a lovely home, cute and cuddly cats, and cinematic gems like The Brothers Bloom.

It’s the variety of story that made me fall in love with the art of film making in the first place: beautiful cinematography and that magical combination of wit, suspense, humor, and yearning.  It doesn’t hurt that one of my long-standing movie star crushes, Mark Ruffalo, plays one of the leads, or that people fall in love, either.  I’m a big fan of love, but I think you knew that already.

The Brothers Bloom are con men from way back, childhood, in fact, weaving the quite literary Stephen’s droll tales into brilliant, theatrical cons of world renown.  The problem, as there always is one, is that Bloom, Stephen’s sensitive younger brother, has never liked the game and wants out, for good.  This isn’t the man he wants to be.  Longing to write the story of his own life, he leaves Stephen and their pyrotechnic expert of a side kick Bang Bang to be alone.  They find him months later and convince him to do one last con.

What ensues is a sweet, tender, hilarious, and nail-biting adventure as Stephen, Bloom, and Bang Bang engage the naive and wise hobby-collecting Penelope.  Globe trotting, the story grows more complex and unpredictable, as Bloom falls hard for Penelope, and the brothers are threatened by their former teacher and arch nemesis, The Diamond Dog.  It had me on the edge of my seat, in delight and trepidation, wondering just who was conning whom.

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Whatever the eye sees, the heart will not forget.

Armenian Proverb

After what seemed an interminable twenty-eight days without rain, of living in a vastly foreign version of  Portland, the skies finally opened up.  I was watching television yesterday afternoon when I was hit by one of the most glorious scents – the first drops of rain hitting pavement – wafting through the air.  At last!

Thankfully, the the initially fleeting sprinkles were only a preview of what was to come.  As the hubster and I ventured out to the show, as my Grandma Frances would say, to take in The Brothers Bloom (more about that on Friday) on two-for-Tuesday night at our very favorite movie house, The Academy (two movie tickets + popcorn + Reese’s Pieces +  hard cider for the hubster + tip = $16!), the rain began again.   By the time we arrived at the theater, the drops had grown larger, more certain of themselves.

Much to my delight, the rain held steady through the gorgeous film, the tarred roads puddle filled and shimmering with moisture in the evening light.  At bed time, the gentle patter of drops on the tin shed roof lulled me into sweet slumber.  Thankfully, the rain has yet to cease, the sky a radiant combination of sun, cloud, and brilliant blue.  Portland, no longer foreign, is home again.

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