Tiny Bits of Hope Wrapped Up in Goat Cheese Love

Yes, it's absolutely true that it rains here. I mean really rains. As in November through May you can expect a 50% chance rain on any given day which is most days. Half the year. Half the year with gray skies, wet shoes and saturated, moss-filled lawns.

There's a large percentage of us who welcome the start of the rainy season in the fall. We're ready to head inside. To have some quiet time of introspection. To pull out wool scarves, down jackets and rain boots. To make soups, pots of chili and braised meats. I am one of those people. As a matter of fact, being a native of this wet world, if I go too long without rain I start to get itchy.

Of course, fall leads into winter which is welcoming in its own stark way. A lack of clutter. A time to clean our mental house. To take blank sheets of paper and write out our goals, our dreams, our hopes for the new year.

Which brings us up to the last moments of winter, just days from the start of spring. Those days when I know we still have at least 3 1/2 more months of rain but when I am ready to have this heaviness lifted from my mind. To see my family in bright, clear detail as opposed to dim, hazy light. To trade in the movies on the couch for bike rides along the river. To retire the soup pot and fire up the grill. To see the outside world decorated in something other than neutrals.

And just when I can't take the gray and rain one more day and feel like I'm going to start scratching the ceiling....

The days grow longer. And while not sunlight per se, it is light...later. And that light bekons me outside where I welcome the chance to do even that never-ending chore of weeding...in-between rain showers.

And while I'm outside I start to look around and notice that there are little bits of color waiting to be found.

Little nubs on trees.

New shoots poking their way past rain soaked leaves.

Chives that have filled in with their long, slender green leaves. Leaves that are just waiting for me to snip and use in a recipe.

And overnight it seems, those lovely daffodils raise the curtain on their spring spectacle. The viewing of which does wonders to lift the spirits.

And even though these are all but tiny hints of what's to come, they help. Somehow the gray sky doesn't seem nearly as oppressive. The rain not nearly so inconvenient since the air is warm(er). The mind somehow less foggy.

And it is my dearest hope that all of the people in Japan who have lost so much after the terrible wreckage and destruction of the earthquake and tsunami may start to see tiny hints of hope. Fragments of color. Something, anything, that can help to lift the extraordinary sense of loss and despondency they must surely be feeling.

Hints of Hope
Here are some folks trying to help out. Trying to send a tiny hint of hope to our friends across the ocean.

Portland's own Wieden+Kennedy designed a print to raise relief funds. The first run of posters already sold out but a second one is in the works. Click here to see their lovely creation.

Here is another beautiful print designed by Los Angeles artist, Nan Lawson, to raise relief funds for Japan as well.

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Tiny Bits of Chive All Wrapped Up in Goat Cheese Love
I cannot get enough of this goat cheese spread. I make it year-round with whatever kind of fresh herbs are available in my garden. For the past few months I've been using rosemary...that winter-hardy herb...but I'm delighted that I can give good ole rosemary a rest and snip some fresh chives. In the summer, I love to use basil. Of course, you could use a medley of any of your favorite herbs. My daughter and the 5-year old love this spread as well and are always thrilled to find it set out on the table along with some flatbread crackers, dry salami and cucumber slices. My 3-year old nephew will inhale an entire 8 oz portion of this spread if left alone with the bowl. Needless to say, it's a winner, unless of course, you don't like goat cheese but then I can't really help you out. Sorry...

Ingredients
8 oz plain goat cheese, softened
3 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 tbsp fresh herbs, chopped: rosemary, basil, chives, oregano, thyme or any combination of these

Directions
In a small saucepan, heat your olive oil over medium-low heat. Add your garlic cloves and let "simmer" for about 3-5 minutes or until the garlic is soft and fragrant but not brown, stirring often. Careful not to burn your garlic. Turn down your heat if necessary.

If I'm using rosemary, I usually add it in with the garlic cloves and let it simmer as well to help mellow its flavors. You can also do this with any of the other herbs. 


Once the garlic has finished cooking, remove the pan from the heat and allow the oil to cool to room temperature. After that, remove the garlic from the pan either by straining it or doing like I do and just picking it out with a fork. (Goodness knows, I don't want to have to clean a strainer.)


Put your goat cheese in a medium bowl. Add in 1-2 tbsp of the garlic infused olive oil. I usually add in 1 tbsp and taste it and then add more as I desire. Using the same fork I used to pick out the garlic, I stir up my cheese and oil. Then, I add in my fresh chives and gently stir to evenly combine.

Spoon your delicious spread into a lovely bowl. Top with a few sprigs of the herb you used. Set out with some crackers, cucumber slices and dry salami and Voìla!...an appetizer to impress. (Although I've been known to eat it out of the container, standing at the counter, with no one to impress but myself and it's still good.)

Enjoy.....

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AM Northwest
Spent Wednesday morning down at AM Northwest as part of their Pacific Disaster Relief fundraiser. I was on hand to talk about what you should have in your pantry.


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St. Patrick's Day
In case you're looking for a little inspiration for St. Patrick's Day reveling, here are a couple sites to check out:

One of my absolute favs, They Draw & Cook, has a collection of 6 recipes for a Happy St. Patrick's Day currently on their home page.

Something I'd never hear of before...Colcannon....a classic Irish potato dish you'll find over at Food for my Family.

Some Lucky Green Velvet Baby Cakes that Jenny has whipped up over at Picky Palate.

My sweet friend, Katie, has some Honey Marmalade Mustard Glazed Corned Beef over at GoodLifeEats. My stomach is growling just looking at the pictures.

And this recipe over by Aran over at Cannelle et Vanille isn't "Irish" per se but I thought all of the lovely greens help set the tone for ye olde leprechaun holiday.

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Organization Project
Moved bags to be donated from entry-way to hall-closet alcove. People kept tripping over them.

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PS:
I'll be back in two weeks. Spending some quality time with the family during spring break......
Cheers!



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011

A Grill, My Man and Some Caribbean Halibut

I glanced out at him. Sitting there on the back deck. So calmly. iPad in one hand. Tazo lightly sweetened iced tea in the other. And I thought to myself, "What is it about guys and grilling? Is it primal?" On any other night, should he be asked to come up with dinner, my sweetie will ask for the phone and call 1-800-Got-Pizza but give him something to grill and....Wow! Furthermore, he could go for weeks, months, years even, without grilling but you call him back to his rightful position and he's whipping out "4-star" salmon, New York steaks and halibut like he's been doing it everyday. And so it was this particular summer evening as he patiently attended our halibut steaks.

I fear I must confess to you that I tend to be a bit bossy. Some of you may have already figured this out. Others of you may have been the victim of my bossiness. (Sorry dear brother and sister, but I was and still am the eldest.) It's not that I have a need to control everything as much as I need my life to have a certain order to it. I have a particular threshold for chaos, noise, clutter and non-premeditated events and once we go past that threshold, well...I become the "Boss Lady" as my sweetie refers to me when I'm in that state of mind. And the same applies to cooking. I am constantly thinking about the order in which each dish needs to be prepared. When this dish needs to come off the stove. Or the fish off the grill. Or the drinks poured. Or the salad dressed so that everything, more or less, is ready at the same time.

A few years back, when my big kids were little and the chaos was at its peak, my sweetie and I became disjointed in our efforts to get his grilled dish and my non-grilled dishes on the table at the same time. So one night, in a "Boss Lady" fit, I said, "Just let me do it from now on." And being the wise, patient man that he is, he stepped aside knowing, "And this too...shall pass."

Which brings us up to this particular summer evening. Maybe it's that the chaos is not so great now that the children are getting older. Maybe it's because I'm getting older. Maybe I'm just plumb tired and I'm loosing my "Boss Lady" edge. Or perhaps, down deep, I've realized that while I can grill, I don't really love it. Not like my guy. But whatever it is, I'm learning...a little bit...to Let Go and embrace some of the chaos, noise and unscheduled events.

Seeing my daughter already in the kitchen making cupcakes, I was struck by the unprecedented notion to call the boys in and give them each a job as well. Which I did. And while they were all working away...my daughter folding berries and mint chocolate chips into her buttercream frosting and me not saying a thing. Nope. Not one word about that combination of ingredients. The 10-year old chop, chop, chopping up the veggies for our salsa with chopping bits flying here and there and me not making one comment about the little bits creating a colorful pattern on the floor. And the 5-year old dipping his fingers into the guacamole, licking it off and dipping again to make sure it tasted just right and me not saying anything about germs or the green streaks appearing on his shirt which he was using as a napkin...yes, while all of this was going on, I was overcome by the feeling that despite the mess, I was truly delighted that we were all in there. There was something so, so...comforting about it. And then, not wanting him to feel left out, I went over to where my handsome man was relaxing and said, "Hey sweetie, I'd really appreciate it if you could grill the halibut. The last time I did it, we ended up with blackened fish bits all over the place." He looked up at me and without questioning the request said, "Sure."

And so it was that he was reinstated to his rightful position as "Grill Master." (Although, we never can be too sure what might happen the next time "Boss Lady" shows up but for now...) And what's more, when it was all said and done, thanks to the extra help, I was left with an unscheduled half hour. A non-premeditated half hour. I faltered for a minute not knowing what to do with myself this was so unheard of...but then, I picked up my camera and headed outside and walked to where the sun was just slipping behind the hills. Without that bit of unencumbered time, I would have missed....

The final moments in a work day.

The last bits of light before the sun slipped behind the hills.

Our own coastal range putting forth its best, yet humble, effort to embody the spirit of the original Blue Ridge mountains.



Caribbean Halibut with Tropical Salsa
Adapted from Weber's On the Grill

This is a recipe my sweetie found, purchased all of the ingredients for and declared we should have it for dinner. Perhaps he realized, subconsciously that he had been patient long enough and the time had come for him to take the "Grill Master" position back over from the "Boss Lady." Whatever it was, I'm so glad he did because this dish is amazing. So fresh. So easy. So "summery." The most time consuming part is chopping up the ingredients for the salsa but if you happen to have an offspring handy that is obsessed with weaponry, hand him a Chef's knife and tell him to have at it. And truly, if you were completely short on time, but still wanted to try this out, you could skip marinating the fish and just season it with some olive oil, salt and pepper before grilling. But don't skip the salsa. It "completes" the dish.

Ingredients:

4 halibut fillets, about 6 oz each
canola oil

Marinade:
1 c orange juice
1/4 c soy sauce
2 tbsp fresh lime juice
1 tbsp freshly grated ginger
1 tbsp dried thyme
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp ground cayenne pepper

Salsa:
1 c finely diced ripe pineapple
1/2 c finely diced ripe banana
1/2 c finely diced cucumber
1/4 c finely chopped red bell pepper
4 scallions, thinly sliced
1 1/2 tbsp fresh lime juice
1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp Tabasco sauce
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Directions:
Start by whisking all the of the ingredients for the marinade together in a medium bowl. Add your halibut and turn to coat them evenly. Cover with a lid or plastic wrap, put them in the fridge and let them marinate for 1 hour, turning once or twice.

Meanwhile, make your salsa by simply combining all of the salsa ingredients above in a medium bowl and setting aside.

Once the fish is ready, prepare your grill for cooking over medium to medium-high heat. (350-450 degrees.) Remove your halibut from the bowl and discard the marinade. Pat the fish dry with paper towels and then brush both sides with canola oil. Make sure your grates are clean and then grill the halibut for 8-10 minutes, turning once or until the halibut just begins to flake when you poke it with the tip of a knife.

Slide your heavenly fish onto a plate. Top with the salsa and perhaps a side of rice and some tossed greens and enjoy. You can almost feel the Caribbean calling as you bite into this medley of tropical flavors. Now where's my umbrella drink??


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A River. A Tent. A Simple Satisfying Sandwich.

The kids were geared up. They had on their road warrior hats and there wasn't a single complaint to be found. No, "Are we almost there?" No, "I'm bored." They knew our destination. Had been looking forward to it for a year. This annual pilgrimage to "The River." The Eel River, to be exact. We had left behind the tightly packed Douglas firs. Almost brillo-like in the way they densely covered the sharp slopes flanking I-5. We had said good-bye to the rolling hills of Southern Oregon speckled with maples. And, we were currently snaking our way past the awe-inspiring and rather haunting California Redwoods. As we slowly made our way up the shady, narrow road, the 5-year old called out excitedly, "Mom?! Where's the Endor Base?" "Mom? Mom? Is that where the speeders go?" While I looked out the window and saw...Majestic. Colossal. Beauty. He looked out the window and saw...Ewoks. Clone Troopers. Battle scenes from Star Wars VI. (The other two didn't see anything. They were conked out thanks to the Dramamine. A must for all but the strongest stomachs on the winding stretch of highway through the Smith River Canyon.)

What is it about the summer road trip? The anticipation of sleeping in a tent that allows children, who can barely sit for half an hour to enjoy their dinner, to sit for 8 or 9 hours straight in a car without complaining? The only question on their lips being, "When can we go to the river? Can we go to the river right when we get there? When? When? When?" And sure enough, upon our arrival, there was no holding them back. No setting up camp. Just a flurry of bathing suits and sunscreens and they were off.

Maybe the answer lies in its simplicity. The way that the older ones ferry the younger ones in a small boat across the "deep end" over and over, all day long. Neither party growing tired of the trip. Back and forth. Back and forth. The way the older ones jump off the rock into the river, over and over, all day long. Never growing tired of scaling the rock up past the poison oak and jumping again. Scaling and jumping. Scaling and jumping. Or, maybe it's the simple thrill of "night swimming." The rush that comes from conquering something that you feared. Or, the way that the Moms, best friends, sisters, still exhausted from the school year, are allowed to simply sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. In the sun. Talking about this and that. Sipping our sparkling water. A bottle of Rosé. At one point, I inquired of my 10-year old in a private moment, "So, are you having fun?" He looked at me, a bit puzzled and replied, "Mom? Are you kidding me? This is my warcraft." And he pushed off into the water, kicking his inner tube down the river. The same kind of black inner tube I played on in my grandparents creek during the summer.

Of course, one can't think of tents and rivers and campfires without thinking of food. Food that's been simplified. Paired down. No cookbooks. No recipes. A loaf of purchased pound cake, sliced and left on a table for children to grab as they walk by for breakfast. A cooler full of sandwiches...pb and j, salami and cheese, turkey with hummus and vegetables. A bag of Rainier cherries. Canteens full of water. And in the evening, salmon and halibut that have been grilled to perfection with only a brush of olive oil and a sprinkle of garlic salt for seasoning. A pot of buttered noodles and a salad of greens tossed with olive oil and lemon juice. Salt and pepper. Easy. Uncomplicated. No pressure, food. And even though I rather loathe marshmallows, every year at this time, there's nothing quite like the perfectly roasted S'more for dessert.

Then at night, cuddled up in a tent, after a day of water and sun, all one really needs is a pillow, a sleeping bag, an air mattress and some night air for a deep sleep. Well, actually, that is if you aren't me with my genetic disposition toward light sleeping and dog hearing. Which, even though it does not render me a full night's rest, does allow me to hear foiled attempts to teepee the teenage girls' tent by a couple of teenage boys...and then, to lay there and do nothing but smile to myself. The following day, I hear myself explaining to my teenage daughter who was aghast upon learning about the attempted prank, "They do and say these things because they like you." And her saying to me impatiently, "Mom, you always say that." And I guess I do. Just like my parents said it to me. And I wonder, "Is it true?"

Back through the Redwoods. Past the rolling hills and up to the familiar Doug firs. The only sound to be heard is the occasional, "Mom, can we stay longer next year?" The kids each thinking about what type of water contraption they're bringing next time. Me thinking about the food. Those sandwiches by the river. That bottle of Rosé. And sitting. Just sitting.


A Simple Satisfying Summer Sandwich
Let's be honest, sometimes in our overcomplicated world, we overcomplicate food as well. Summer with all of its fresh produce provides us with an opportunity to simplify because summer produce doesn't need much except slicing. We couldn't get enough of these sandwiches on "The River." Paired with a handful of Rainier cherries and a glass of sparkling water or chilled wine....it doesn't get much better than this.

Ingredients:
2 slices of your favorite whole grain bread.
(I prefer Dave's Killer Bread or La Brea Whole Grain Bread)
2-3 slices of tomato
4-5 slices of cucumber
4-5 slices avocado (or in a pinch, leftover guacamole)
thinly sliced red onion
salad greens
your favorite hummus
salt and pepper
optional: a couple slices of turkey

Directions:
Slather both sides of your bread with the hummus. Place your sliced vegetables and your turkey on one side. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and then, pile on the greens. Grab your unencumbered slice and flip it over on top. Cut in half on the diagonal. Pack away in a cooler for later or grab a plate, put your sandwich on it, a handful of cherries and go outside to enjoy. Best eaten with fresh air.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010