Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

The Kitchen Alchemist: Fried Rice and Vegetables

April 1, Feast of St. Hugh of Grenoble, who lived in a Carthusian monastery for a time, whose rule forbids the eating of meat.  Once he found the monks assembled in the rectory with nothing to eat but fowl.  St. Hugh made the sign of the cross, and the fowl miraculously changed into turtles.  A fitting tale for Lent.




"In which I try to make healthful, affordable, easy meals:
in other words, throwing together ingredients in hopes of creating gold."


If you're just joining us, the idea for this continuing series is outlined very somberly here.  If you're new, it may or may not also be useful to know that during Lent, I give up all animal products except for fish on weekends.  Hence the extreme simplicity of the meal.  (Also, I'm a lazy creative cook.)

This meal was scrapped together from leftover rice and vegetables and turned out very well.  My favorite thing to do is to throw things together in a pan with oil.  So that worked out nicely.  Since they were leftovers, all I had were carrots and potatoes, but a more traditional recipe would use peas and other vegetables.

I always start my "stir-fry" with a glob of oil and chopped garlic.  Then I add onions, and that makes the base.  Since the carrots and potatoes had already been boiled the night before, they didn't need to be cooked through; I just browned them a bit in the pan.  Then I added a bit more oil and the rice--which, again, was already cooked.  It took about twenty minutes for the rice to fry up how I like it, but it was a pretty hands-off twenty minutes.

Vegetables taste especially nice with Worcester sauce (see my "You Know You're in Wales When" segment here), but the fish ingredient means I can't have it on weekdays.  Instead, I used vegan-friendly salt and chutney to punch up the flavor.  We ate it with salad greens and drank cherry brandy for dessert.  It was popular with our friend Glyn, who is joining the Eastern Orthodox Church this Easter, and so can't have animal products either.



Glyn, Afon, and Rupert having fun after dinner.


Report card time:

Time  //  B

Ease  //  A

Presentation  //  B+

Affordability  //  A

Health  //  A

Taste  //  B+


The time would have gotten a B+ or A- because it was pretty effortless, but I took into consideration that it only works if you have leftovers.  If you try this or something similar, let me know.

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Late Autumn Tea

Nov. 22, Feast of St. Cecilia, married virgin and martyr.  She is patroness of composers, martyrs, music, musicians, musical instrument makers, poets, and singers.




In climes farther north, it's still barely autumn.  The crops are all harvested; the birds are flown; everyone tucks in quietly with their winter stash of soul-stuffing foods; all that is left is to wait.

Now is the waiting time, a perfect preparation and meditation on the coming Advent.  Before the preparations close in on us and make us lose sight of the essence of the coming holidays, November gives us time to rest and reflect; and also to kindle hearts with old friends at a bountiful table, with the hot tea kept flowing, and the cakes and conversation abundant.




I'm most pleased as as a hostess to stand apart and wait on my guests.  Maybe it's because of my college days as a waitress, but I have my own self-imposed standards of hospitality, especially at a tea party.  I don't want to sit, eat, or drink until everyone is served, content, nearly finished.  It's rewarding to me to see my friends and guests enjoying themselves, and I don't necessarily have to be in the center of that.




I had my help, of course!  My little spirit sister rose eagerly to attend to me in the kitchen whenever asked, and a talented woman who works at the childcare center with me made this cake for us au gratis . . . I couldn't believe her generosity!  She runs a business from home called Secret Recipe Cakes.  If you're local, you must commission her!  Moist and thick pumpkin cake with silky pumpkin mouse topped with chai butter-cream frosting and fondant sunflowers.  I knew it would taste amazing, and it didn't disappoint.

The Menu

*made by me
~ made by friends

Finger Foods

rye cocktail bread with pumpkin cheese spread
red velvet cake truffles
pumpkin butter* and crackers
candy corn cupcakes~

Soup

carrot and parsnip*

Salad

Miss Cathy's Ruby Jubilee Salad,
with cranberries, almonds, feta, and a raspberry vinaigrette dressing*

Sandwiches

Miss Cathy's almond chicken salad* on a croissant
brie and apricot jam on a croissant

mixed fruit

Dessert

blueberry crumble cake~
pumpkin cake with pumpkin mousse filling and chai butter-cream iciing~

Teas

Irish Breakfast
Early Grey
English Breakfast
Lady Grey
Chai Apple
Darjeeling
China Oolong

with cream,
natural stevia, pure maple syrup, honey, and/or agave nectar




My little friends (not so little anymore!) brought me hostess gifts of November-themed illustrations in delicate frames to accent my decor.  The younger one made blueberry crumble bread and candy corn cupcakes.  Their mother gave me a tea cup with a dainty doily and hand-crocheted pot holder.  She gave me six delicate tea spoons from her own collection about six months earlier.  My adopted godmother brought me a sweet-smelling holy oil, blessed by a priest renowned for the gift of healing.  I'm grateful for it in these days of on-and-off illness.  My mother loaned me her sweet Thanksgiving china and autumn tea pot.




But the best gifts of all were the gifts of their company, of their presence.  Of the old friends brought together with new friends, whether in actuality or in spirit.




A blessed and cozy November to you!

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Seven Quick Takes: Volume ??? (Let me get back to you.)

Joining Jen at Conversion Diary for 7 Quick Takes Friday.

-- 1 --


So.  I disappeared for about a week there because MY AIR CONDITIONING BROKE.  You have to understand.  September is virtually still summer where I am, and it was worse inside than out, in an apartment that has no fans and only one tiny window that opens in the back room.  Like trying to breath and move in fudge that's just come out of the oven.

We took refuge at my parents' house for most of the week, which would have been fine and dandy if it hadn't been for the fact that. . .

-- 2 --


I started my brand new job this week!  Even though we were headquartered at my parents' house (with frequent trips home to restock on vitamins and changes of clothing), it was worth it to receive this opportunity.  I am now part-time secretary (read: Jack-of-all-trades) at a small Catholic childcare center in small Catholic community outside of the slightly larger Catholic community in which I grew up.  Daily responsibilities include writing creative ads for bulletins, polishing up the website and Facebook page, making pretty fliers for book sales and fundraisers, answering the telephone, and occasionally holding babies.  You know, the pits.  c;

I'm still working at the grocery store on Saturdays, to keep the much-needed income . . . well, coming in.

-- 3 --


Because I'm working at a childcare center, it only makes sense to take the Squirt along with me.  So he's going to be getting toddler-interaction on a regular basis now, with a lovely employee discount (totally free once DCF plucks me off the waiting list).

I also think it will be good for him to be under the care of a non-sentimental adult authority figure.  You know, to reinforce the behavior he's learning at home outside of the home.

-- 4 --


That means Sundays will be my only "off" days.  Friends, take note!

Having Sundays free regularly is a change of pace around here.  Usually, I'm having to squeeze in Mass between a late Saturday schedule and noon Sunday.

I've started walking over to the Episcopalian church the next block over to take the Squirt to the nursery.  I know the woman who watches the kids, and the church's secretary works with me at the store.  After that, it's an quick walk to the local Catholic parish for 11 o'clock Mass.  It's not our home parish, but I like that I don't have to load everyone into the car; and the Squirt and I can take our time enjoying a Sunday morning stroll, while I point out nature.

-- 5 --


I intend to carry on full-speed ahead with the Harry Potter book club (dubbed Harry Potter Project on Spinning Straw into Gold) and will try my best to continue to write timely posts.  (I'm failing already!)

About two weeks ago, we had our first live Harry Potter book club meeting in a small natural food store while Jenna was down visiting with her grandmother.  Masha joined us via Skype.  The other patrons probably gave sideways glances when I announced that out loud, but I! Just! Don't! Care!  It was that awesome.






We can confirm that Jenna is a flesh-and-blood person.  Jury is still out on Masha.  c;

-- 6 --


All this on- and off-the-clock activity does not bode well for my writing.  While I am a little grieved at that, in over the summer I've solidified the knowledge that my storyteller track is one for the long run.  And I'm okay with that.  I'd rather take a long time doing something, and do it right (or at least well).

And who knows?  Maybe I will find myself in a cottage in north Wales, my husband playing with our son in the garden, me pregnant with our second (of many?), and writing by the open window in the quiet evening with a hot cuppa after supper, this time next autumn.

Only probably much louder and messier.

In the meanwhile, I've a poem in the newest issue of Dappled Things and one in Goblin Fruit, with a recording of me reciting it.  Goblin Fruit is great fun for the imagination, visibly beautiful, and in harmony with the seasons, but their poems tend to the more fantastical and hard-to-interpret.

These may be the last publications for a while.  We'll see.  As others have noted, autumn tends to be a writing time

-- 7 --


Speaking of seasons, I've had it on my heart for a good while now to order our lives toward the seasons, both literal and liturgical.  I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to do that.  For one, the seasons are subtle here, and while beautiful in their own way, I'm an Anglophile raised in the mid-west.  I want my stark fall, winter, spring, and summer.  For another, I wasn't raised steeped in Catholic culture until I was an adolescent, and even then it was only a Sunday and praying-before-meals thing.  I crave the monastic rhythm of the middle ages, the liturgy laced inseparably with the harvest cycle, like bone and muscle.  But how does one incorporate that in an age that is so detached?

And how does one do that working almost thirty hours a week, and keeping house and making healthful meals, and raising a two-year-old?

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Facebook: You're Just Doing It Wrong

Person A told Person B that Person C hadn't been commenting on Person B's Facebook photos and status lately, and was Person C mad at Person B?  Person  B hadn't even thought about it, but went to Person C and asked if she was mad.  No, said Person C, just haven't been on Facebook a lot lately.*

If you followed that, then hang on for a bit more while I exclaim how utterly ridiculous this modern weight in Facebook activity is.  Facebook is a social tool.  That's it.  It's not the essence or apex of relationships.  And when people start to evaluate their friendships and self-worth by how many likes and comments they get, then something has gone wrong, like Picasso-eyes-and-nose-switched-up wrong.  We're viewing relationships out of a completely distorted lens.  We're mistaking the symptoms for the cause.

I hate that we've become so Facebook dependent these days.  It can be a God-given tool for communicating and keeping friendships well-tended, but Facebook itself isn't the friendship.  When you don't know how to interact with each other, or merit all your activities by how often other people click buttons on the other side of the computer screen, then it's time to log off and meet someone for coffee.  You're just doing it wrong.




What do you think?  How has social media enriched or enslaved your life?  Have any other ridiculous Facebook stories to share?



* Disclaimer:  this did not happen to me.

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My Best Friend's Wedding, Part II



The Reception followed with a delectable picnic barbecue at the park.  Proof that I was there:




Someone thoroughly enjoyed the cupcakes.




Homey details added the perfect touch.




Me squishing the head of the bride.  Because this is the essence of what we do when we are together! Below, my mom and sister.

And I got to give an impromptu wedding toast!




When I was eleven and in sixth grade science class, there was a pretty, sweet, mature-looking girl who sat in the front of the classroom, and I thought, Oh, how I wish I could be friends with her.

That was seventeen years ago.  Congratulations, Ashley.  I love you.

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aka, Laura

My Best Friend's Wedding, Part I



We were worried about the Squirt's tolerance for a ten-plus-hour drive to Nashville, but he was blessedly agreeable.  Let it never be said I deny he's a Very Good Boy.

We stopped north of Atlanta for the night.  That morning was tepid and fresh, and the foothills of the mountains tucked us into a little pocket of reality.




From there, it was only a three-hour drive to the Nashville "suburb" and the rehearsal dinner.

There's Ashley, my best friend of seventeen years.  She's the epitome of feminine, if you can't tell by the hot pink and gem-studded glasses.




That evening, the honorary bridal party (plus my sister!) stayed up late into the night to make 40 programs. We slept in a hotel room, and Ashley woke me up at zero in the morning to walk sleepily in the frigid dawn to Hardees for a girl chat and a greasy pre-wedding breakfast.  Wouldn't have had it any other way!




Can't see the bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony!




Ashley + Greg Burgess, joined in holy matrimony, two o'clock in the afternoon, March 11, year of our Lord, 2013.




 Part II tomorrow (I hope) with the reception.  <3

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