Summer Dinner in the Rain

Original publication, Methow Valley News, August 26, 2020

Petrichor [pet-ri-kawr]: the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil. From Greek petros, "stone", and ichor, the ethereal fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in classical Greek mythology. As I am writing this column late on a Friday afternoon, the aroma of petrichor blows through the window carried by late summer winds. September rains cannot come soon enough. 

A friend noted that while she lived in the deep south there was never the smell of petrichor when it rained. Perhaps because the southern soil is perpetually drenched by humid blankets of air from ocean currents, and there is no dry soil to release sighs of petrichor when raindrops fall. 

While southern air may be heavy, Pacific Northwest gardens benefit from long summer days. The vines droop with the weight of ripened tomatoes, squash, and beans, while branches bend beneath the weight of juicy peaches. 

Summer dinners are seasonal feasts. It begins with a plate of sliced tomatoes atop thick slices of mozzarella, drizzled with balsamic vinegar and topped with torn basil. Next come meatballs, made with two cups of finely shredded zucchini, a grated shallot, half a cup of panko bread crumbs, one teaspoon of red pepper flakes, one pound of ground turkey, a handful of chopped fresh herbs: mint, basil, parsley, dill, oregano, the juice from a large lemon, and half a cup of feta cheese. The meatballs are drizzled with olive oil prior to baking at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 minutes, and served wrapped in warm pita bread topped with a cucumber dill yogurt sauce. A side of colorful roasted vegetables from the garden, drizzled with oil, topped with feta and herbs complete the meal. 

Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle contains a staple zucchini dish: Disappearing Zucchini Orzo. This works well as a warm side dish, or a cold pasta salad, or in a bowl all by itself. Cook up a pound of orzo pasta according to package directions. Shred 3 zucchini, an onion, and 2 cloves of garlic. Saute the vegetables in olive oil and butter until golden and translucent. Finely grate a half cup of parmesan, and toss together with the pasta and sauted vegetables. Top with freshly chopped thyme and oregano, salt and pepper to taste. 

For dessert, a peach ginger crumble comes together with barely any effort. Remove skins and pits from a dozen peaches. Thinly slice peaches and place in 9”x9” baking dish. Peel two inches of gingerroot and using a zester, finely grate the gingerroot over the peaches. Sprinkle with a bit of cinnamon and nutmeg. Toss to combine. Pour a half cup of honey over the peaches and stir to combine. Pour two cups of quick cooking rolled oats over the peach mixture, spreading evenly. Top the oats with three quarter cups of loose brown sugar, in an even layer. Thinly slice a stick of cold butter and place the slices atop the brown sugar. Bake at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 minutes, until the oat topping is browned and peaches are bubbly. 

 

Book Review: The Fire Next Time, James Baldwin

As I consider how far America has come in sixty years, and how far we have yet to actualize the ideals listed in the Constitution and Bill of Rights, one singular image is burned into my mind. Little Ruby Bridges, escorted by federal marshals to her first day of kindergarten at a newly desegregated elementary school in 1960 New Orleans. She looks like every other kindergartener: smaller than the school bag she carries, with a button nose and chubby cheeks of a baby, stepping out into the big wide world. Her hairbow is most prominent as she looks down, her little feet stepping down those big steps. 

I want to rush up those steps and scoop her into my arms, hiding her face in my shoulder so she doesn’t see the crowds of other white women hurling objects at her and yelling ugly words. I felt this even more strongly as images of my hometown from last week portrayed white adults physically assaulting young protesters who were peacefully requesting an end systemic racism. I often think about what Ruby Bridge’s mother must have felt that first day of school… in addition to the fear, I know her mother felt an overwhelming sense of awe, love, and pride in that little girl who held her head up and returned to school day after day, walking through those crowds with the federal marshals at her side. 

Little Ruby Bridges grew into a strong woman with a large voice that she uses to this day to continue to advocate for civil rights. 

In his essay, “The Fire Next Time”, writer James Baldwin touches upon the strength that Ruby displayed at such a tender age. He states that generations of Black Americans surviving the worst that life had to offer had born, “children of kindergarten age who can walk through mobs to get to school.”

The title of Baldwin’s essay is from a slave song, “God gave Noah the rainbow sign, No more water, the fire next time!” His essay opens with a letter to his nephew, also named James. The letter is a map for his nephew to navigate a white America as a young black man. The second part of the essay is a letter from the writer describing his own navigational journey. Harassed and abused by police when he was ten, young James finds security in a life devoted to the church, and enters the ministry. His essay examines the roles Christianity and Islam played during the civil rights movement, and in slavery and oppression. Through hardship, black Americans rose above fear and moved forward with love and grace. The overarching message is change is messy, and requires all citizens to stand up and make their voices heard in unity. At 100 pages, the essay is bit longer than most, and requires a quiet mind to listen. At once historical and timely, “The Fire Next Time” provides context for civil right actions today.

 

Peruvian Chicken and Roasted Corn Salad

While in Peru, we ate well at every single meal. This one sheet pan meal is an easy, flavorful dinner that combines roasted chicken, potatoes, and a roasted corn salad all on one pan.

You will need:
Four chicken thighs or two chicken breasts
1 lb multi-colored fingerling potatoes
1 ear of corn (or 1/2 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed and squeezed dry)
1 small onion
1 red bell pepper
2-3 jalepeno peppers
Chili seasoning and olive oil


Green sauce:
1 bunch cilantro
1 bunch mint
1 lime
Oil, salt, pepper

Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Slice potatoes into quarters, toss with olive oil and chili seasoning and spread on one side of pan. Oil and season chicken, place in center of pan. Place pan in preheated oven for 10 minutes.

Slice corn from ear, and chop remaining vegetables to the same size as the corn kernels. Toss with olive oil and chili seasoning. Remove chicken and potatoes from oven, spread corn and pepper salad on other side of sheet pan and return to oven for 20 minutes to cook the roasted corn/pepper salad and continue roasting the potatoes and chicken.

Place cilantro and mint leaves in blender. Zest the lime. Add the zest and juice of the lime to the blender. Sprinkle in salt and pepper to taste. Drizzle in olive oil while blending until sauce reaches desired consistency. Serve over roasted chicken and potatoes.

Poem for Mary

For Mary

Solvitur Ambulando,

A heavy heart embraced by storm clouds

A head full of bees, seeking tranquility

It is solved by walking

Where mountain peaks touch the sky

Brush the rain from the clouds

Droplets, rivulets, connecting streams

From mountains arteries, sweet water flows

Treetops sway in the breeze

Aspen leaves applaud the morning light

Meadow larks sing the bees to sleep

Mountain bluebirds discern undulating grasses

Arrowleaf and lupine master the hillsides

Sage butter cups, spring beauties

Burst forth, assimilating the forest floor

Leaves absorb sunlight, roots deeply penetrate rich soil

Nxwenax wenanamx

Wenatchi - to comprehend, to understand

Footprints writ upon the forest floor

The forest knows, it knows the soul

#Starentine

While we’re in quarantine, let’s all starentine! Head outside at the same time each night and log your experience on social media using the hashtag #starentine, along with thousands of other people around the world. 

Appreciating the night sky comes naturally, after all, as Carl Sagan so aptly stated, “we are all made of starstuff.” During this time of lockdown, less light pollution allows the vibrancy of meteors, planets, and star constellations to reach our eager eyes. Star gazing requires no specialized knowledge or expensive gear. Turn off the lights, call your neighbor and ask them politely to turn off their yard light, and step outside with your head tilted back and eyes wide open. Let us enjoy the night sky together, while we are all apart. 

This week is perfect for viewing the Lyrid meteor shower with mostly clear skies and the moon hidden in Earth’s shadow. The Lyrids can be seen throughout the end of April, but the peak viewing time is during the darkest hours of the new moon Wednesday night, April 22nd. The recommended viewing time is from midnight to just an hour before dawn. Look to the northeast, towards the Vega star in the Lyra constellation. To learn more about the Lyrid meteor shower, visit the American Meteor Society’s webpage, https://www.amsmeteors.org/

You may have already noticed a vibrant Venus. She is the brightest planet and the first to arrive to the party in the western sky shortly after the Sun takes his leave. If you rise an hour before dawn and look to the east, you’ll see Mars, Saturn, and Jupiter. Mars has a reddish hue from the rust colored dust coating his surface. Saturn, the gassiest planet, is golden from the mixture of hydrogen, helium, ammonia, phosphine, water vapor, and hydrocarbons. The largest planet in our solar system, Jupiter, is mostly viewed as creamy white with the ice crystals that make up its atmosphere. The four largest moons of Jupiter can be seen through a pair of binoculars. Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto are known collectively as the Galileans, named after Galileo Galilei. For more information on viewing planets in the night sky, visit https://nightsky.jpl.nasa.gov/planner.cfm

The best time to view the topography of the moon will be at the end of the month, on April 30th during the “quarter moon” phase, when half of the visible surface is lit. Using binoculars, gaze along the boundary line between the dark side and the sunlit side of the moon. Long shadows cast by mountain ranges and crater rims are easier to see on the moon’s surface when it is partially lit in either the crescent or half-moon phases.

Another kind of shooting star can be seen during the day, on long walks up sunny hillsides. In addition to shooting stars, the mountain buttercups, yellow bells, and blue bells are in full bloom, while the balsam root sunflowers are eclipsing the newly green hillsides. With upended daily routines, and social hangouts on hold, I feel my thoughts sluggish at times. But in the words of Henry David Thoreau, “Methinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow.” 

Wash your hands, take a walk, and look up once in a while. Be well, my friends.

Original publication, Methow Valley News, 22 April 2020

Full Plate

My plate is too full

I wish it piled with cake

Alas it is not

As it has always been...

Two recent earthquakes shook the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains. On March 18th a 5.7 magnitude quake shook a town near Salt Lake. On March 31st, a 6.5 magnitude quake occurred north of Boise. The quakes were unrelated, but caused by the same actions that formed the Rocky Mountain range 80 million to 55 million years ago. The mountains continue to slowly grow, as they always have. It is a reassurance that the world continues to move in ways it always has.

The Idaho quake triggered an instant video conference with school chums from my hometown. We all had ‘working from home’ hair except for that one guy who dresses up for everything, and that one gal who is always put together. His coiffure lay in perfectly combed waves and he wore a sweater vest with a tie, her black hair smoothly framed her flawless skin as she sipped a glass of wine. The rest of us bore wild uncombed locks and sported concert t-shirts and sweatpants. It has always been this way with this group.

Mud season is not my favorite season, but I do love what it promises: long walks in an awakening spring. Plants unfurl their leaves to absorb sunlight, breathe in carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen, producing food and clean air. Afternoon mud puddles transform overnight into crystalline art forms, glistening in the morning sun. As the day warms, rivulets of melted ice trickle into the ditch along the road, rushing to meet the creek, which flows into the river in a rush towards the great ocean. Mary Oliver assured us, “It is the nature of stone to be satisfied. It is the nature of water to want to be somewhere else.” It has always been this way.

In the novel, The Overstory by Richard Powers, one of the characters describes walking through a Pacific Northwest forest tucked into the stony folds of the Cascade mountain range. She walks in a place where one of the native languages uses the same word for “footprint” and “understanding.” The Wenatchi dialect of Interior Pacific Northwest Salish uses the same phrase for “footprint” as “to comprehend and to understand.” In Latin, the phrase solvitur ambulando, translates as, “it is solved by walking.” Walking is good for both body and soul, as is understood in languages older than our own. It has always been a grounding reassurance to feel the earth under our feet.

I’ve been stuck on the song, “Alaska,” by Maggie Rogers. She sings about walking through icy streams and glacial plains. The chorus, “I walked off you, and I walked off an old me,” is a reminder that everything is temporary, and a walk is good medicine to clear the mind. It has always been this way.

While we are physically distanced, we can still make a connection with each other by listening and reading one another’s stories…as it has always been.