Just before KP and I left Rochester, where we had painted our home fuchsia and lime, my grandmother Gigi sent me this evocative image by Brian Andreas* which spoke to the compulsion I have long since had ever after living in New Orleans—to splash walls (literal and figurative) with bright colors.
To my delight, this last week in the new NOLA house, Mom and I have been doing a lot of splashing with brightness. And the interior of the place is starting to remind me of my own emotional interior, as I feel good home decorating should. Izzy has enjoyed posing with her new and improved backdrop.
And here, I argue, she looks like George Costanza.
Emmer bread goes well with any color of wall.
Emmer Tartine Bread
Adapted from the Tartine Bread Book
Sourdough 200 g
Water 850 g
Emmer flour 300 g
Wheat flour 300 g
Regular flour 400 g
Wheat germ 70 g
Salt 25 g
Emmer is an ancient grain, and sometimes hard to find in grocery stores. I bought this from Bluebird Grain Farms in Washington state. They ship everywhere.
Prepare the dough using the method of Tartine Country Bread, except let the dough rest for 60 minutes in the first rise, because it needs to absorb more water. Bake in the heated cast iron pot with the lid on at 500 degrees for 20 minutes, then turn down the temperature to 450 and bake for another 10 minutes, then finally remove the lid and finish with 25 more minutes at 450 degrees.
In other Golden Weekend news, Mom and I went down to the fete of Bastille Day in New Orleans, and arrived just in time to catch the French Dog Costume Contest, of which Tarzan, a small lapdog wearing a Le Petit Prince book costume, took home the grand prize.
Haiku #190 July 9th
I wouldn’t want to
live inside a Mexican
restaurant, Mom frowns.
Haiku #191 July 10th
A great ratio
Of positive likelihood
That soon I shall rest.
Haiku #192 July 11th
Blue sky on Bastille
Day turned the French red scarves and
white suits American.
*Reproduced with the written permission from Story of the Day.
My mother is visiting New Orleans, which means I need to keep plenty of nuts on hand, rather, by the bucket. Her metabolism is like the fuel system on an RV. On the prompting of Nuts.com, a site which Mom said she frequents, and surprisingly, as a future psychiatrist, one I had not yet come across, I chose to experiment for the first time with coconut flour in my baking. I have been reading how coconut flour is high in fiber, some sources touting up to 26 grams of fiber in 50 grams of flour, and I’ll say, on the other end (literally and figuratively) I can attest to this having good effect in that regard! Also high in protein. Keeps Mom going, and happy.
The coconut taste definitely comes through in the flavor of the cookie. Also, the flour is dense and the cookies do not really flatten out at all in the oven, so shape carefully. They are pretty chewy and remain so for days afterward. I like to display them next to the one Zulu Coconut I caught in the Mardi Gras of 2009.
Zulu Coconut Flour Chocolate Chip Cookies
1/2 cup butter, melted- or coconut oil
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 tablespoon vanilla extract
4 eggs
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup coconut flour
3/4 cup chocolate chips
Instructions Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix together butter, sugar, vanilla, eggs and salt. Stir until well mixed. Stir in flour and chocolate chips (plus arrowroot and coconut if desired). Mix until well combined. Line a cookie tray with a silpat or parchment paper. Using a tablespoon, make balls and flatten to desired cookie shape. These cookies don’t spread. Cook for 8-12 minutes until lightly golden.
Leafy greens. It’s what’s for breakfast…on my first day off, which just so happens to also be the 4th of July! There is a boat parade tonight on the St. Johns Bayou, my mom comes to town for an extended visit, and Izzy just can’t get enough costumes. This one is a patriotic number for the Fourth.
Spinach Quiche
Adapted from Penzey’s Catalogue
1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell
10 oz. frozen spinach or 1 lb. fresh
2 TB. Olive oil
4 large green onions, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 1/2 Cups shredded cheese, use your favorite, jack, cheddar, I used this horshradish cheddar from Rouse’s which was YUMMY
3 large eggs
3/4 Cup skim milk
1 tsp Foxpoint seasoning (Penzeys)
4-6 cherry tomatoes, circle cut and patted dry, optional
1 TB. bread crumbs
1 TB. grated Parmesan cheese
No Roll Pie Crust
This “crust” is pretty slick for those in a hurry. Mix it right in the pie plate, no bowl and no rolling!
1 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 Cup olive oil
3 TB. milk
Put all of the ingredients in a 9-inch pie pan. Mix with a fork until well blended and pat into the pan. Push the pastry up the sides and form a nice edge with your thumb and finger.
Directions
Preheat oven to 425°. Cook the spinach and drain well. Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook for 2 minutes. Add the spinach. Cook and stir until any excess moisture is gone. Place in a large bowl. Add the cheese, eggs, milk, and fox point. Maybe add a little parmesan in the quiche as well as on top, couldn’t hurt right? Mix well. Spoon into prepared pie shell. For added color, arrange cherry tomatoes around the edges of the filling, if desired. I couldn’t think of anything blue that would taste good on top, but wanted to for patriotism.
Bake at 425° for 15 minutes. Decrease the oven temperature to 350° and bake for 10 minutes. Mix bread crumbs with Parmesan cheese, sprinkle over top of quiche. Bake a final 10 minutes. Let cool for a few minutes before slicing.
Residency started today. I almost took a selfie of standing in the house in my white coat to match all the “first day of school” pictures Mom took of me and Dave over the years, but then I was like, you’re thirty, this is a job, and you need to get there early in case the computer/moped/ID badge/stethoscope doesn’t work. Which, was 3/4s accurate. My stethoscope worked, thank God. What a thrill to make a decision, write my own orders, and not have to sheepishly ask anyone else if they think it’s a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, my independent decisions at this point are about managing fluid, electrolytes, and PPDs for nursing home placement. Not whether or not someone gets tPa for their acute stroke. Slowly, slowly. I love it, just love it. And as much as I thought white coats were a nasty public health nightmare dishrag that I would wipe the hospital with, while wearing—it is nice to be smiled at in the hallways and waiting rooms and have people say “Good morning, doc.”
A shrimp of a doc, here on day one, but a doc. Next year I can say, I’m not a shrimp, I am a king prawn, okay? (Muppet inside joke)I made a salad with orange glazed shrimp last night to give me an extra healthy head start on the year. But then I realized that the glaze is basically orange maple syrup. Ooooh soooo good.
Orange-Glazed Shrimp Salad
Adapted from Food and Wine
1 1/2 cups fresh orange juice
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons finely grated orange zest
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 pounds large shrimp, shelled and deveined
Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper
Chopped parsley, for garnish
Steamed rice, for serving
As much washed and shredded romaine lettuce as you like
In a saucepan, bring the orange juice, sugar and soy sauce to a boil. Simmer over moderately high heat until reduced to 1/2 cup, about 20 minutes. Stir in the zest.
In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil. Season the shrimp with salt and pepper. Cook half of the shrimp over moderate heat, turning once, until white throughout, 3 to 4 minutes.
Transfer the shrimp to a plate. Repeat with the remaining olive oil and shrimp. Return all of the shrimp to the skillet, add the orange glaze, season with salt and pepper and toss to coat. Transfer the shrimp to a platter upon which you have laid lots of yummy green lettuce. Drizzle the leaves with extra glaze. Enjoy.
Izzy tried to help me read my neurology notes (I’m on stroke service) tonight, but she thought it would be more instructive if she modeled coma primitive reflex posturing.
Last night I dreamed that water was gurgling up through the cracks in the hardwood in this house. Our kitchen became Yellowstone National Park. I ran to the front door and looked outside to see that we had bought a house right on the line where the ocean meets the shore. I can’t tell if this is a homebuyer’s remorse dream, a Hurricane Season anxiety dream, or a Residency Eve anxiety dream. Either way I’m listening to Jazz Gospel radio this morning and experiencing God Willing and the Creek Don’t Rise in a whole new way. Hope Tom McDermott is the piano player at church again. Dang it’s good to be a New Orleanian again.
KP is having quite a week in his blind-immersion school. Look what he made blindfolded!
Millet-Scallion Pancakes
¾ cup millet
1½ teaspoon kosher salt, plus more
⅓ cup reduced-sodium soy sauce
3 tablespoons unseasoned rice vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons toasted sesame seeds
1 teaspoon Sriracha
8 scallions, thinly sliced, divided, plus more for serving
2 large eggs
6 tablespoons buttermilk
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
6 tablespoons vegetable oil
Instructions
Cook millet in a large saucepan of boiling salted water, stirring occasionally, until tender, 15–20 minutes; drain, shaking off as much water as possible. Spread out on a rimmed baking sheet and let cool.
Meanwhile, whisk soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, sesame seeds, Sriracha, and ¼ of scallions in a small bowl; set sauce aside.
Whisk eggs, buttermilk, cornstarch, sesame oil, and 1½ tsp. salt in a medium bowl. Fold in millet and ¾ of scallions.
Working in 3 batches, heat 2 Tbsp. vegetable oil in a large nonstick skillet or well-seasoned cast-iron pan over medium-high heat. Add heaping spoonfuls of millet batter to skillet, press to ¼” thickness, and cook until golden brown, about 3 minutes per side; transfer pancakes to a paper towel–lined plate.
Sprinkle pancakes with more scallions and serve with reserved sauce.
Slowly, slowly, the chaos around me is giving way to order. One broken box at a time, the familiar things are finding their way back onto shelves, into cupboards and upon new walls. Home feels just enough the same, just enough different. I had been focusing on the inside of the house, where it is cool, so as to avoid the 90 degree humid heat waiting for me in the face of all the taunting weeds and cramped flower pots cluttering our back patio. My attitude changed when, incidentally, I discovered a lemon and a lime tree on clearance at Double M Feed and Seed while shopping for Layena pellets and a bale of straw. It has been a fantasy of ours for some time to have citrus trees in the backyard. I followed advice from the University of California Master Gardeners while planting the trees in the ground. Izzy is excited for lime popsicles someday. She is patiently waiting.
The chickens were beyond tickled that I turned up gallons of new dirt for them to scratch through with bugs, worms, and best of all, about 30 oyster shells of indeterminate age. I thought my shovel had hit a pile of rocks, but as white chalk fragments glanced off my spade, I got down on hands and knees to discover a repository of shell. A neighbor told me that these houses in our neighborhood, most dating back a hundred years or more, have strange treasure troves in the backyards because that was where people chucked trash before there were civil services to retrieve refuse and dump it elsewhere. “You won’t believe the artifacts I’ve found out back,” he said. I’m thrilled that my first discovery was a window into a dinner party long passed—I imagine a roaring 20s sort of evening with fringed and feathered women sipping mint juleps, smoking long handled cigs, and throwing spent oyster shells off the porch into the night dark backyard as though over the rail of a ship into the dark, silent sea.
It seems good theology and geometry that one of the first major changes to our new home/property is a tree planting. I also started some vegetable seeds in a planter out back. A healthy reminder that we start small, we keep feeding and watering ourselves, and with time, our spirits and wisdom shall grow. Also, I wanted to implant a solid reminder of the place from which we came–Fuchsia and Lime. This lime tree is hereby named Fuchsia. As soon as I have lemons and limes from the tree I’m going to post all kinds of guacamole recipes and Thai food stir fries, but for now, the sacred of the ordinary to sustain me through yet one more week of house labors–buckwheat.
Buckwheat Bread
Adapted from Five Minutes a Day Artisan Bread
½ cup buckwheat groats
1 cup buckwheat flour
2 cups all purpose flour
4 cups whole wheat flour
1 Tbl kosher salt
1 cup sourdough starter
4 1/2 c water
The recipe proceeds like the other 5 Minutes a Day no knead recipes. Mix the dry ingredients, add the wet, let rise and then, in this case, let the dough sit in the fridge for 24 hours to give the whole kernels time to absorb the water.
I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this. Still orientating here in the start of residency, half-learning to use new electronic medical records, getting tours of the hospitals and clinics where I will be working, filling out small mountains of paperwork, getting fit tested for respirators. Mostly I am enjoying getting to know the young, bright and fetching cast of characters that comprises my intern class. This last weekend was our Psychiatry department retreat—to Orange Beach, Alabama. I warmed myself on white sand, body surfed in the Gulf Coast saltwater, threw down Dancing in the Streets at the Pink Pony Pub’s karaoke night, and managed to lobster-ify the entire back surface of my body. Six years of Minnesota means that my poor lily white arse stood no chance against an hour of noonday Southern UV exposure. The upside of having chapped my backside is that I really shouldn’t be sitting down today anyway—there is only a narrow moat of a walkway among the boxes stacked high still in the new house—I have much work to accomplish upright. If only I had an aloe vera kiddie pool mattress top cover to sleep in until this burn cools to flake.
Since we only have time to create and consume snacks, I am trying to make sure those snacks are not an unending litany of chip and dip combinations. This is a great and quick veggie option for the Moving In Munchies.
1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper or 1/2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes
preparation
Preheat oven to 400°F. Toss brussels sprouts and 3 tablespoons oil on a rimmed baking sheet; season with salt and pepper. Roast, tossing halfway through, until softened and cut sides are brown, 20–25 minutes.
W hisk vinegar, sugar, fish sauce, soy sauce, and remaining 1 tablespoon oil in a large bowl. Add brussels sprouts and toss to coat; transfer to a platter. Top with pumpkin seeds and rosemary; sprinkle with Aleppo pepper.
And finally, since I really am getting too far behind in posting the haikus punctually so that they jive with the content of the post, here I give you the last near-month of haikus—going all the way back to the Med/Psych retreat at the Juneau Lodge and Safari Park in the middle of nowhere rural Louisiana, where the distinction between a protected animal reserve and a thinly veiled illegal poaching operation became somewhat disturbingly blurred.
Mark my words, one day a pig like this shall be my pet. And she will be named Clementine.
It is fair to say we entirely underestimated the difficulty of moving from Rochester to New Orleans. Entirely. Usually the result of such misjudgments is panic, chaos, and discord. I am proud of the way KP and I have managed to keep cool and to move through the many upsets with grace. I think it is because I watched Silver Linings Playbook right before we packed up. The Silver Lining in all of this, and in life really, is that toil attracts the goodwill of friends and strangers. We are so grateful for all who pitched in to help us get on the road, and once landed, to get settled. Thank you to Greg and Kim and Janelle who helped pack and load our entire truck, and to Romayne for the travel basket.
Thank you to Janelle and Janelle’s Mom for helping us to get the chickens on the road and disassemble their Rochester home that it might be refounded in our swamp backyard.
The chickens have a new routine that now involves eating Giant Swamp insects and rolling in the shady dirt by our shed in the back. They don’t appear to be dehydrating, and the eggs production is back in full swing.
In fact, Lucille laid two eggs in the Mazda on the way down (because she is just that good). Betty, on the other hand, got loose in the Mazda and sat right behind my head making this face.
Then she escaped 5 times in two days, which was distressing, albeit a nice opportunity to meet every single one of my neighbors who each met Betty as she stomped her way through their front yards, under their porches, and as she mowed down the contents of their catdishes. I revamped my coop run to contain my Escape Chicken, Chicken Houdini, or Henrietta as my neighbor Susan called her for the hours she spent eating worms behind the bars of her courtyard garden. Susan was a little disappointed to discover Henrietta was in fact Betty and had an owner desperately trying to find her. Here is the Where’s Waldo scene of how I found Betty after I followed her squawk sound for several blocks.
Oh, I have so many stories from these first days. KP finally arrived late Sunday night, and Izzy took to her new home quickly– she loves the cool floors.
And my new walk to work is magical and mysterious, lined with colorful houses and live oaks.
I HATE throwing food away. Which, those who helped me pack can attest to being true. The chickens take care of a lot of our scraps, composting gets the remainder. But here is a recipe that helps absorb some of that brown rice you’d rather not grow Bacillus cereus in the fridge—put it in a loaf of bread!
Brown Rice Bread
Adapted from Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day
5 ½ cups whole wheat flour
½ cup ground flaxseed
1 cup sourdough starter
1 TB kosher salt
3 ½ cups lukewarm water
1 cup cooked brown rice
1 TB chardonnay seed flour
Start with mixing the water to and the starter to form a very wet dough. Add the flours, do not add salt yet. Mix this all up and wait forty minutes before adding the salt in a little bit of water. This gives the dough some time for the gluten molecules to align (as they must)—and because salt can retard sourdough growth, giving 40 minutes for there to be a jump start is a good idea. At this point, you can let the dough rise for hours and hours. Then you can put the dough in the fridge and pull off pieces from it to use for baking fresh bread all week.
Cover loosely (leave lid open a crack) and allow to rise for two hours at room temperature (if you decreased the yeast, you’ll need more time). NEVER PUNCH DOWN or intentionally deflate. The dough will rise and then begin to collapse. Refrigerate and use over the next 14 days, tearing off one-pound loaves as you need them.
On baking day, cut off a grapefruit-sized piece of dough (about a pound), using a serrated knife or a kitchen shears:
Now, quickly shape the loaf. DON’T KNEAD or otherwise knock all the gas out of the loaf:
Cover the loaf loosely with plastic wrap and let it rest on a pizza peel covered with cornmeal or parchment for 90 minutes (40 minutes if you’re using fresh, unrefrigerated dough. This is longer than our 1st book because whole grains take a longer rest than white doughs. Depending on the age of the dough, you may not see much rise; our loaves depend more on “oven spring.”
Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450 degrees F, with a baking stone placed on a middle rack. Place an empty broiler tray for holding water on any other rack that won’t interfere with rising bread.
Just before baking, use a pastry brush to paint the top with water. Bake for 35-40 minutes or until richly browned and firm.
Haikus are forthcoming—need to find my journal amid all the boxes to stay in sequence…
I am not ready to move. But it is easier now that Fuchsia and Lime is now no longer fuchsia nor lime, but a godawful Starbucks brown. HUGE THANKS to KP’s buddies Jake, Tim, and Derek who gave their whole days up to paint with us. we never would have done it without them. And at the end of it all, the house no longer feels like a place I want to live anymore.
Last night with friends I had the eerie sensation that I was in the last act of a play on the closing night of the season. We are all saying our lines for the last time. Tonight we’ll go change costumes and go to sleep, and when the curtain comes up, the set will have been broken down and it will be quiet in the strange way that change, or the realization of change, is quiet.
There is always the temptation to jump over this quiet space and talk loudly about how great things will be in the future and how much we have to look forward to, and how we will visit and they will visit and there will be Jazz Fest and Mardi Gras and French Quarter festivals. But no, today, it is quiet. And I am sad. And that is okay, sweet, even. Cut to the comic relief. Love Hurts. And what better for the silence of heartbreak than the loud comforting crunch of corn nuts. You can make them yourself!
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind the question has been floating: What are corn nuts, exactly? Well I think I just figured out how to make them. Great car food.
Spiced Garbanzo Beans
Adapted from Penzeys
1 15-oz. can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
2 TB. Olive or walnut oil
1 ½ tsp Cajun spice (I use Penzeys) but another nice combo is coriander with a little cayenne
1/4 tsp. salt
1 TB. flour
Preheat oven to 425°. In a medium bowl, combine the beans, oil, spices, salt and flour. Spread on a rimmed baking sheet and roast at 425° for 30 minutes or until crisp. If they start to pop, they’re done!
What about Budapest? Next post, I promise. Meanwhile, the haikus:
Pajda is what to ask for in Krakow. Pajda means “thick slice” – of country bread, upon which is smeared lard, garlic, onions, and spicy sausage. Pajda goes well with hunger.
Krakow was easily my favorite city in Eastern Europe. Great energy to the place, the bombs of WWII missed it, and there happened to be a street festival in the square with pajda, minstrels, and all kinds of artisans. KP and I were joking about finding a polish sausage to eat for dinner. And then I realized that Polish sausage isn’t a joke.
And cilantro pesto goes well with everything. Just like KP.
Place the cashew nuts, walnuts garlic, onion, parsley, cilantro, chili flakes, salt, lemon juice and vinegar in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until roughly chopped. Slowly pour in the olive oil and process until semi-smooth, about 10 seconds. You can put this on anything– SOOO good!
Haikus coming– can’t find my notebook in the midst of this packing and painting!
