Whirlwind

Whirlwind life! Whirlwind days! 
Whirlwind hearts growing and breaking and opening and closing, and in the midst of it all, still trying to look the world in the eyes. Does your heart break open too? 
At the simple beauty of babies feet and the heartbreak of hunger waiting on every street corner? 
Mine splits open and open everyday, just enough to let a little more light in, just enough for the jewels to spill out into my eyes, and create a little more beauty than sadness. So here are words for the day: for a day that is the perfect amount of time. 

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
      And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
      And how else can it be?
      The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
      Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
      And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?"
--Kahlil Gibran

Breaking Open
Everyday 
            my feet surprise themselves
                       by getting out of bed

Meanwhile my heart breaks

          babies laugh
Children starve
          we fall in love
lovers die
          men rape
women break
          chickadees sing
my neighbor goes homeless
           my friend is jobless
rivers flow
          roses blossom

Meanwhile I breathe
      the world turns
           the sun still rises
                                      and sets
Babies are being born
                                to good homes and bad houses

Everyday my heart surprises me
                  by mending just enough to sleep
and break open again tomorrow

Playing House

We like to play house. We hang sparkly lights and a dreamcatcher above our crashpad nest and we set up the tent in our living room when we miss camping.

We eat eggs, bacon, and fresh peaches and we laugh about getting older. We drink out of jam jars because we forgot to buy glasses and we eat on the floor because we haven't bought chairs. 

We drift to mountains and streams and play in the water like little kids. We throw rocks and yell and make faces. We tease and fuss and fight. Mostly though, we love each other, and mostly that is what we spend our time doing. 

Crab Nights

Some nights are slow. There is crab strewn across the table, mouths licking buttered fingers, and slow conversation dripping down our lips. In between long dregs off of cold beer we share simple stories and simple conversation.

Some nights aren’t special but they still linger on my tongue.

Banana Blueberry Muffins

These are my mother’s muffins. They were her staple breakfast muffin and I knew it would be a good day when I woke up to the smell of them baking. These are one of the most nourishing comfort foods for me.

I am my mothers daughter, and these are my go-to muffins for the morning after a disaster, or when someone needs some extra love. Always, the taste of memory adds an extra sweetness, but even without the history, these muffins are delicious.

Banana Blueberry Muffins

1 cup sugar

2/3 cup butter

¼ cup buttermilk

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

2 cups flour

¾ tsp baking soda

1/8 tsp salt

1 cup blueberries (or replace with chocolate chips)

3 large bananas (2 cups)

Preheat oven to 350

Combine sugar, butter, buttermilk, eggs and vanilla. Stir in flour, baking soda, and salt. Add bananas and blueberries. Bake for 20-25 min. 

Remembering Roots

Rhubarb pie for breakfast and the tones of home linger softly on my tongue. Each bite is infused with more than rhubarb and sugar, but rather the spice of memories filling in the spaces.

The weight of history presses on my tongue.

I have no idea what just rhubarb tastes like. To someone who has never had it, I cannot even imagine what it must be like. But I am the world’s best food critic if you want to know what rhubarb laced with memories tastes like. 

I can tell you about seeing my mom chop it up into bite-size pieces and the way it made me feel taken care of. My eyes are barely peering over the counter top, her soft beautiful belly just at head height: the perfect height where I can lean gently in and let her take all my weight. 

I can tell you what the garden tastes like. My small feet press an inch down into the freshly turned earth baked by the sun. Scooping up a handful of dirt only to let it drop between my fingertips. The feeling of a tiny weed squished between sausage toddler fingers. 

I have no idea what just rhubarb tastes like.

But rhubarb pie--I can’t tell how much sugar is added, or whether the dough was made correctly, or whether there is too much cinnamon. 

All I can taste is the sweetness of innocence, the pillow of my mothers belly, the brittle warmth of summertime, and dirt under tiny toes. All mixed together, joined together by unlikely forces, dancing together in a never-ending parade.

Home

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie!

Making a pie crust is much simpler and substantially less daunting than most people think. Don’t let making pie crust feel too hard to stop you from doing it; the results from a homemade pie are infinity better than a crust from the store. (unless it’s Mary-Ann Steele baking J

We often forget about our hands as tools and reach for the butter cutter or spatula. Let this recipe be a true hands-on experience. Get your hands in the dough, the strawberries and the rhubarb. You’ll be able to taste the love and marvel at the versatility of our hands. The best part is having less dishes to wash at the end of it!

It is simply really, just let your hands do the work and don’t over work the dough.

Pie crust—For top and bottom pie

2 ½ cup flour

1 tbl sugar

½ tsp salt

8 oz butter cut in ½ inch pieces

½ cup ice water

Make sure the butter and water are cold to start. I believe in using our hands as tools, but some people prefer a butter cutter.

Mix the flour, sugar and salt together. Add the butter and mix with your hands until the mixture resembles peas and crumbs. Peas and crumbs. Repeat it to yourself. Once the mixture resembles peas and crumbs add the ice water. Depending on the day, the season and how hot your hands are, you might need more or less water. Start with the ½ cup and fluff the water into the mixture. The key here is gentle coaxing and fluffing. You are not trying to force, knead, or muscle your way into this pie dough. It is a delicate creature and likes to be treated as such. Gently fluff the water into the dough until it just begins to come together. You should still be able to see little pieces of butter in the dough. Shape it into 2 balls. Again the trick here is being gentle. Coax and ease it into two balls, now is not the time for packing it into your hand like play-dough. Once you have it in two balls tuck it into saran wrap and refrigerate it while you make the filling.

**Note: you do not always have to refridgerate the dough before rolling it out, but I believe that it comes out better if it is given time to rest before baking.

Strawberry Rhubarb Filling

4 baskets of strawberries (2 boxes)

1 tbl sugar

1 tbl flour

1 tsp cinnamon

10 stalks rhubarb

1 cup sugar

1 ½ cup water

I recently found this new trick for rhubarb pies and I absolutely love it! My rhubarb pies are always either soupy but flavorful or the right consistency but dull from the cornstarch or flour. This trick came from the book “The Sweet Life” which a secret fairy gifted me this winter and has been a source of inspiration for sweet treats and new ideas.

For the rhubarb: Chop the rhubarb into ½ inch pieces, and combine in a saucepan with 1 cup sugar and 1 ½ cup water. Bring the sauce to a boil and let boil for 3 minutes without stirring. Then take off heat and allow to cool for 10 minutes. In “The Sweet Life” she strains the mixture with cheesecloth and a strainer over a bowl. If you’re like me, then you probably don’t have cheesecloth lying around. I work in a professional kitchen and I couldn’t even find cheesecloth today. So I just used a strainer and it seemed to work just fine. Put the strainer over a bowl and let the mixture strain until all the juice has come out.

Keep the rhubarb juice. You can use it to spice up your water, thicken for an ice cream sauce, or make fruit soup.

Use the rhubarb compote for the filling to this pie!

Now, for the strawberries, slice them into thin slices and combine in a bowl with the flour, sugar, cinnamon and rhubarb compote. Roll out your pie dough and gently place into a pie pan. Spoon the filling into the pie (be sure to use your hands for this, and then lick them afterwards!). Roll out the second piece of dough and place on top. Fold the edges over, crimp them, smash them with your fingers: your pick. Then design a steam hole (I usually do a heart, sun or baby face) and use a paring knife to cut the steam hole into the pie.

Crack an egg and a splash of cream into a bowl and brush it on top of the pie and sprinkle with sugar for a beautiful finish.

Bake at 400 for about an hour, but check it regularly. It is done when the top is golden brown and everyone in your house is begging you to take it out and eat. 

Beautiful! Make two pies and give one away to your neighbor. 

Happy pie eating! Fill your homemade crusts with local fruit and berries. Let yourself feel proud of your homemade crust and remember to eat it slowly and softly, allowing your tongue to take in the sweet, the sour and the love of it all. 

Out Breath and Sweet Potato Muffins

It has been so long since I have written!

My apologies. My life has been filled with twists and turns, cooking and baking, loving and fighting, and lots of driving.

We are settling into our house in Oakland and I am finishing my year at LEAPNOW. I am learning and loving and trying to be human in all of it.

Regular posts will follow as my life takes a quick out-breath, before another 8-day retreat as students return from all over the world.

It is a time for harvest as I look back to September, but for today I simply write with a poem and recipe. The muffins don't have any sugar in them and break open with steam fresh out of the oven. I hope they warm your heart and soul.

Do you also Run

Do you also run

Hands heaping

overflowing with gasping muffins

To your neighbors door.

Begging for a sigh,

one simple steaming bite

Do you also plead with the Universe

For a slap-your-face sign

Dripping wet

Asking Why

Do you also yell

I will never be good enough

At anything.

The only hope I have

For this dance of no hope

Is that I might be good enough at being human

I might be good enough at being human

Summer's Sweet Potato Muffins

Adapted from “Good to the Grain”

1 medium sweet potato--baked and peeled

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 cup unbleached flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 tbl cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/2 tsp allspice

1 cup oats

2 oz butter

2 eggs

1 cup buttermilk

1/2 cup yogurt

8 dates--pitted and diced 

Preheat oven to 350. Combine dry ingredients in a bowl. Mix together butter, eggs, buttermilk, and yogurt, and add half the sweet potato. Combine with dry ingredients, then mix in the rest of the sweet potato and dates. Mix until just combined, and then spoon into muffin tins.

Bake at 350 for 20 min.