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Posts Tagged ‘food’

Hi, all.  I have a new article  posted on the lovely website Creativity Portal.com.  Check it out and let me know what you think.  Meanwhile, wherever you are in your day, I hope all goes well! 😉

To Define or Not to Define:  That is the Question

 

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It was a nice surprise to receive word from the Somerville Arts Commission that my words are posted in the final installment of “Food from Afar,” the online series accompanying the food photographs on display in Davis Square, Somerville.  You’ve seen some of my Japan photos before on this blog or perhaps while strolling through Davis Square this month.  Now here are the stories behind a few of the pictures:  Food from Afar:  Kyoto.  And, if you’d like to see more photos from Kyoto, just click here.

 

 

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Well, just the other day, Steve snatched a large white serving bowl from my hands.  As he clutched it tight, he said, “I best put this back on top of the cabinet else you’ll plant herbs in it.”  He’s probably right.  It’s just been one of those springs.  Indoor gardening has consumed me a bit.  During the long winter, I collected a lot of seeds.  And so now, in pots and cups and old vases, on two floors of the house I live in, are growing:  basil, dill, lemon thyme, marjoram, and two types of sage.

Later today, as a reward for completing a few writing projects, I’m hoping to run by the local flower shop for some mint plants.  Mint used to grow wildly across my yard growing up in Virginia.  My mom showed me how to make mint tea with it.  Fun, but not really a palette pleaser.  Then I learned that there are MANY varieties of mint.  Today I intend to pick up chocolate mint, orange mint and pineapple mint plants. The boon for me is twofold in planting all this greenery.  One, of course, they make great photographic subjects.  And, two, Steve loves to cook for family and friends.

Lemon thyme plus olive oil, two egg yolks, a hot pepper, and a little mustard were transformed into this delicious lemon thyme aioli.  Nasturtium blossoms and leaves are tossed on top of green salads.  Fresh basil is layered between mozzarella and fresh tomatoes and then drizzled with olive oil.  Toasted bread is rubbed with garlic before being piled high with chopped tomatoes, sage and marjoram.  And then … I think you get the idea! 😉

 

 

 

 

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This month the Inside Out Gallery (located in the CVS window in Davis Square, Somerville) is featuring a juried exhibit showcasing international cuisines.  I’m proud to have three photos in the exhibit of images taken during a visit to Kyoto, Japan.  There are many other beautiful works on display.  I hope if you’re in the area you’ll pause a moment to check out all of the tasty images.

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I’m lucky to live in an area where pretty much any day of the week I can stumble upon a farmer’s market in a park or public square.  So inspiring both my writing and photography right now are the foods and flowers of the season. The idea for this recipe came about after Steve and I had actual beef carpaccio at a local restaurant.  The artful arrangement of the meat and other ingredients on the plate made me curious if it was possible to create  a similar dish using just vegetables.  The answer:  absolutely! 😉

 

 

Vegetarian “Carpaccio

* 2-3 medium white summer beets
* 1 stalk green garlic
* 1/4 cup diced red onions
* capers
* olive oil
* black pepper
Directions: Thinly slice beets and layer on a plate. Top with thinly sliced green garlic, diced red onions, and capers. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil. Sprinkle with black pepper.

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Though I grew up in the South, and my mother cooked in the southern tradition, I must admit that I gasped when Jay added a whole stick of butter to the pan of browning Jimmy Dean sausage.  For years, Jay had been offering to share his mother’s biscuits and gravy with Steve and I.  And finally last week we took him up on his offer.  The basic recipe …

* In a cast iron frying pan, brown one pound of  sausage.

* Once the sausage is nearly browned, add the stick of butter.  Let the butter melt.

* Toss in some flour. The flour browns in all that buttery goodness.  Pour in some milk.

*Add some spices (e.g. cumin or chili powder or whatever you want). Then, the secret ingredient is added.  Molasses! Have you ever heard of such?  Keep cooking until the gravy is thick and golden brown.  Stir occasionally.

As the concoction bubbles, whisk up some drop biscuits.

Once biscuits have browned, split one open on a plate and ladle on the gravy.  Simply delicious.

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A gray day in the Boston area.  I am trying very hard to focus on all the writing projects I have due this week.  The only legit excuse I’ve given myself to rise from this chair is for coffee.  Coffee is one of those substances in which as an adult I have at times overindulged.  As a child, I associated coffee with my father.  My mother, by the time I was old enough to notice, drank only hot tea (Lipton’s with a half teaspoon of sugar).  My dad preferred instant coffee.

Pop

One teaspoon of the dark brown granules in his orange plastic cup.  The resulting brew liberally lightened with canned  Pet evaporated milk, and sweetened with two heaping teaspoons of sugar.  Sometimes if I sat on his lap he’d let me have a slurp or two.  It wasn’t until I went away to college that I had fresh brewed coffee.  Took me  a while to get used to the complex flavors.  I continued to buy instant, but less for the flavor than for the connection to my dad, especially on Sunday mornings when we would speak by phone.   Years later, after I had moved to Boston and began working for a start-up nonprofit, brewed coffee became manna.  Didn’t hurt that I lived in a Boston neighborhood with a coffee shop at every corner (and that was before Starbucks made inroads).  I always had a coffee cup in hand.  In fact, one year for my birthday, Bert, a good friend and colleague, drew my cup of the moment.

Today I drink from a simple white mug a coffee recently roasted by Steve’s son-in-law.  I had to grind the beans myself before brewing.  I’ve already had two cups.  I think I’ll give myself permission to have one more cup … after I complete a couple of items on my list.  Until then … enough of these coffee musings.  I hope your day goes well! 😉

Kyle's Coffee

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Two days ago I found myself in a Whole Foods hungry and in a mood where I guess I was open to trying new things.  I passed the seafood counter and noticed large brown escargot available for 79 cents each.  Never had ’em before.  Never wanted ’em before.  But that day I bought two.  Not bad.  I might try them again.  I’ve been lucky throughout my life to have the opportunity to experience new foods.  In Thailand I was served fresh jumping snake by hillside villagers.  In Montana I had my first and so far only taste of bison.  Currently I live adjacent to neighborhoods with restaurants representing just about every culture in the world.  I can’t always afford to eat in them but I can certainly press my face to their windows.  Window shopping is what I primarily do at one particular store  in my area that is famous for its meats, cheeses, oils and pasta from around the world.  I am used to viewing  on its shelves kangaroo, Kobe beef, ostrich, rabbit, venison, bison, frog legs, duck and every now and then plain ol’ chicken.  I have come to expect the “exotic” but I did not expect the lion.  In fact, I thought the label on the package had a typo.  But the butcher made clear that there had been no typo.  The store was indeed offering up African lion by the steak.

A gentleman standing next to me said softly, “I don’t know what to think about that.”  Many days later I’m not sure what to think either.  When I speak about this with other people, the ensuing conversation has little to do with legalities or food safety.  It quickly becomes a conversation of ideology about food and perception of the lion.  Just as I had been curious about the taste of snails, there were people I spoke with who were curious about the taste of lion.  Other people were enraged at the thought that such a majestic predatory beast was being served up … like deer.  And there were others who were saddened to learn that an animal so important to the culture of a people (the Maasai) was being “farm-raised” so to speak for American palates.  Everyone with whom I spoke were meat-eaters.  And they all recognized that for every point they made, there was a counter point.  So, at present, I’m left with feeling that it all just comes down to perspective, understanding what I value about my food and why, and being open to engaging with others about their beliefs.

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So the way our schedules have been working out lately, Steve races off to work across town, leaving me to work from home on various writing projects.  As he heads out the door, I toss him a lunch I’ve quickly prepared.  Just leftovers pulled together from his fridge.  Some sliced fruit.  A bit of cheese.  Nothing elaborate I thought.  But recently he commented on the fanciness of these petite meals.  I rolled my eyes.  Me? Fancy? Not!  But then this morning, a realization.

I had chopped sun-dried tomatoes, scallions and capers and then layered the concoction over cold pasta from last night’s dinner.  After peeking in various cupboards, I decided to finish off the little dish with a bit of garlic and a little parmesan cheese.   As I stepped back to admire the marriage of color and textures, it hit me.  These lunches have become a creative outlet of sorts.  Almost like culinary morning pages, warming up my mind and fingers for the day’s work.

Many of my current writing projects involve taking the basic ingredients that make up my clients’ programs and putting those ingredients together in a proposal or a report in such a way that they whet the appetite of a potential funder.  Time will tell if I am successful in that endeavor. Meanwhile, Steve doesn’t seem to mind my morning experimentations.

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