Crise

My shopping cart as of late:

Brown rice flour
Teff flour
Buckwheat
Amaranth seeds
Quinoa flour
Sorghum flour
Tapioca flour
Garbanzo bean flour
Millet flour
Arrowroot
Almond meal
Flax seed meal
Xanthan gum
Chia seeds
Yeast
Agave

A Fiver for Five!

My girl is five. Did you hear that?! FIVE.

And grandma and grandpa gave her five smackers for it, too.  This means that for the past handful of days, the girl has been wandering around and asking me what one buys with five dollars.  ('Oooh, what can I buy mama?')  We finally narrowed it down to one of three things:

1. Put the cold hard cash in Matilda (her piggy bank) where she is assured to maintain the title of richest person in the house.

2.  Two Trophy Cupcakes, or nearly two, which is practically the same thing.

3.  Five trips on the carousel.

And so, this morning as I was rushing around trying to get myself out of the house in order to run a pile of errands -- completely and utterly and gleefully sans children -- she says, 'Maybe I should go with you, mama.'  'Er, yes! Maybe you should.  But I must warn you, it will be no fun.  At all.  Not even a little.  In the least.  Bear that in mind, alright?  Unless you want to go to get cupcakes... Or something... Oh, go put your shoes on, sweet girl that I love.'

And there we are -- she chose a Neapolitan cupcake for there and a salted caramel cupcake for the road.

'How was your cupcake, little miss?'  ' Good.  But mama?  I really went with you because I just didn't want you to be sad going by yourself.'  My goodness, I am grateful, and I am not sad.

Memory forms, piece by piece.

Memory forms, piece by piece. Some of them go missing, others interlock, firm. We fill in the missing pieces with what we imagine or just leave the gap, admit the blank. And sometimes, we imagine what might have been, would have been. I do that.
-- Jill Talbot, via The Paris Review

Kate Middleton Shoes, French Pastries, and a Lovely Dishful of Sak

The nearly five year old was offered a job at Nordstrom last week.  There we were, walking through Salon shoes, when Emilia grabbed a particularly lovely high-heel and said, 'Look Mama!  It's Kate Middleton's shoe!'  Of course she was right, I'm raising no nit-wit.  (You know the one, nude stiletto shoe made by LK Bennett.  No?  Still not ringing a bell?  Well, just go look in the bottom of my closet.  Left hand side. There we are.  Unless of course Leo has been in there, then they are up and down the hallway and chucked wherever his little hands have decided to toss them.)

Then we went to QFC, where she was not offered a job, because frankly we had bigger fish to fry anyway.  We needed whole milk, butter, limes, chocolate, and goodness knows what else.  I've turned the kitchen into a veritable french patisserie this past week.  Well, not fully,  as we've only done brioche (both little ones in the pretty tins and loaves) and a french lime creme tarte, thus far.  But Emilia and I have got all kinds of plans.  Next are eclairs and then madeleines and then whatever else strikes our fancy.  This is the kind of thing that I do well --  I bury myself in particular things of a particular theme at particular times.  This time it happens to be french pastries, but it could just as easily be something else: Nancy Mitford books, The Lumineers,  hot and sour soup, and controlled experiments of an herbal tea nature.  That sort of thing.

And so, three pounds of butter in one week... Yes, I know, hopefully this bender is short-lived.**

But because of the kitchen patisserie, or at least due in part, dinner has been a very healthy and very fresh and very simple affair these days.  It is all about balance, no?  But this isn't exactly unusual -- I always cook that way.  However, I think our bodies are appreciating it a bit more right now, or at least mine is.  Afterall, I am the one who ate most of that damned lime tarte.  (It was unbelievably divine and I do not regret it.  I do regret eating two pieces for lunch one day though, because then I just wanted to lay down and die. Please refer back to footnote at bottom of page.)

Drats!

And also Blast and Damn!

Sometimes I really love where we live

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9LEq5sQg2IE

'Let me have an ear!  Let me have an ear!'  This is what the nearly 5 year old says when she sees me in the kitchen at night, washing dishes, and iPod attached to my person.  And this, amongst a few other lovelies on rotation, is what she will hear.  Oh, I love this song.  Every time she hears it, this is what she says: 'Mama, is that song yours?  I think it is yours.  Boom dee a da boom dee a da!' And I will not argue with her.  In fact, I will happily take it as mine. 

---- I love the mountains I love the rolling hills I love the flowers I love the daffodils I love the fireside When the lights are lowBoom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom I love the ocean I love the open sea I love the forest I love the bumblebees I love the stars above When night turns into day Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom I love the sunshine I love the butterflies I love the windblow I love the river flow I love the city lights When the moon is high (Chorus): Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom I love the daysies I love the sugar peas I love the meadows I love the summer breeze I love to walk on by My head up in the sky Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom (Chorus 8x:) Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, 

boom----

I Love This Man

I love this man. I really really really do. He will be missed -- all the way on the other side of the great big world. And I will continue to tell the two small people in the house all about him and the cats.  'Mama, will you tell me about the cats again?  How they used to follow him along the streets of Rome while he was going to work?  What kind of snacks did he have in his pockets, do you think? And did the cats go home and wait for him until the next day? That's crazy!'

But really, I am grateful for him. And I am wildly proud to be a little part of his very large flock.

How To Weather a Storm

Winds whistle shrill,
Icy and chill,
Little care we:
Little we fear
Weather without,
Sheltered about the Mahogany Tree.
--W.M. Thackeray, The Mahogany Tree

Second Reading, Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

1 Corinthians 13
1	If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
2	And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
3	If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
4	Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful;
5	it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;
6	it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right.
7	Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
8	Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.
9	For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect;
10	but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away.
11	When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways.
12	For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.
13	So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Barley & Pomegranate Salad, Which is Divine

This was dinner last night.  And yes, I did feel quite pious, and pure, and particularly marvelous serving it up to my little family.  Michael was gone at a meeting, so he missed all the excitement.  But dear little Leo?  He threw most of his on the floor and yelled.  And Emilia?  She only complained mildly.  But in between her complaining she said, over and over again, 'Mama, does it just make you soooo happy to see us eat this?  Are we going to be soooo healthy because of the pomegranate and this barley stuff?  Oooh, did you see that?? I just ate a green thing!  And I didn't even complain!'  Serious.  It's like they don't even care that I made a divine salad for dinner.  In fact, all temper fits and complaining aside, I am going to add it to the repertoire.  (They will learn to love it, right?)  Besides, it is very easy to make.

Yotam Ottolenghi, my boyfriend, though he doesn't know it, gives an excellent way to de-seed a pomegranate.  I used to buy pomegranates and plonk them in the fridge and then stare at them periodically.  Because really, they are a pain in the arse to de-seed.  But all you do is cut it in half, hold it over a bowl with your hand cupping it underneath, then take a wood spoon and whack it -- sort of gently, sort of firmly. The seeds fall right out into your hand and then fall into the bowl. It is beautiful and I still show everyone the inside of the pomegranate once the seeds have been removed because I find it a marvel of science.

Barley & Pomegranate Salad
200g pearl barley
6 celery sticks (leaves picked and reserved), cut into small dice
60ml olive oil
3 tbsp sherry vinegar
2 small garlic cloves, crushed
2/3 tsp ground allspice
3 tbsp chopped dill
3 tbsp chopped parsley
300 g pomegranate seeds (2 large pomegranates)
salt and black pepper

Rinse the barley under cold water.  Place it in a medium sauce pan and cover with plenty of fresh water.  Simmer for 30-35 minutes, or until just tender to the bite.  (For me, I went about 25 minutes, and that was perfect.  I'm glad I tasted early, too, because it would have been mushy if I went the full 30.  Yick.)

Drain the barley and transfer it to a serving bowl.  While it is hot, add the celery, olive oil, vinegar, garlic, allspice, salt and pepper.  Give it a good stir, and then let it cool completely.

Once cooled, add the herbs, celery leaves, and pomegranate.  Mix all together, taste, adjust seasoning, then serve.  (Recipe from: Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi.  Ebury Press, 2010.)