SoupSpoon

smiling to myself

Yesterday made me smile to myself... a lot.
It started with my sweet old dog, Myrtle, running like a puppy in the cold morning air, and me running to keep up with her.
Then I sliced open a perfect avocado.
Then after a great swim in a warm pool, I listened to elementary girls talk about magic on the other side of the locker room. One little girl started the conversation with,"Only God has magic... well God and Santa Claus. Santa has a little bit of magic." The other girl chimed in,"What about Mother Earth? She has to have a little magic too." "Ok," the first girl conceded, and then the other added,"Mother Earth and people in heaven." The verdict was decided that God, Santa Claus, Mother Earth, and people in heaven have magic; this is all, of course, the good kind of magic.
And then after all of that, a friend stopped by for a chat... more smiling to myself... and then and then and then... a stunning dinner.
 
Stephen and I wanted to plug along on the final touches of the aforementioned clothesline, and dinner needed to sort of fix itself... And boy oh boy did it ever. I want to share it with you because it was beautiful, delicious, looked so fancy, and was desperately simple.
It started with cipollini onions.

Even if I did not like onions I would like these. Look at them... precious. They seem to be around the grocery store during the holiday season. Grab a handful and try this at home:

Cut off the top and bottom. Peel off the outer tough skin. Toss in olive oil, salt, and pepper. Bake on a lined baking sheet in a 400 degree oven for about 45 minutes. Their flesh becomes entirely smooth, sweet, and begging to be eaten. They will love you for it.

For dinner, I sliced an acorn squash into wedges, tossed with olive oil, salt , and pepper, and roasted it on the same baking sheet with the onions.
It is not that often that the ease of a nearly hands-off meal is stunning from eye to mouth, but this was one of those meals. We came in from the yard---cold and hungry--- and were greeted at the door with the sweet smell of roasting onions. That is a lovely way to be greeted.

Give this one a try if you like... Here is how you do it.

Roasted Chicken breasts over acorn squash and cipollini onions topped with feta, balsamic, and a hunk of sourdough bread...

1. Heat the oven to 375
2. Cut the acorn squash in half, scoop out seeds, slice into 1 inch thick wedges, toss in bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper and spread on lined baking sheet
3. Cut top and bottom off of onions, peel off outer skin, toss with olive oil, salt, pepper (use the same bowl for squash and onions to save a dish), spread on lined sheet with squash
4. Rub 2 boneless chicken breasts with a bit of olive oil and salt and wrap in foil. Place in a baking dish and set in oven with vegetables
5. Go play... work... read... and come back in 45 minutes to an hour. Pull the vegetables and chicken from the oven. (chicken should have an internal temp of at least 165) Turn the oven off and set your slices of bread on a rack in the hot oven. Place a few slices of squash on your plate. set a few onions beside it. Lay a piece of chicken over both. Drizzle balsamic over chicken and onions and sprinkle with feta or goat's milk feta. crack some black pepper over all and grab your bread from the oven. if you have a bit of fresh rosemary, mince some for the top. it is divine with balsamic and feta
6. enjoy it... maybe this is magic too.

P.S. I smiled to myself also when I thought of all the whiskey cakes that could be waiting in Soup Spoon's readers fridges by now. please do tell if you have one tempting you like I do...

rain, work, cake, and soup

Welcome back.

Today is the first day since we came home from Thanksgiving  that it has not been pouring- down pouring - rain. This is ultra important because I have been waiting to wrap garland around the front banister and hang a wreath on the door. Like I said, ultra important. Last year, Stephen and I purchased a lovely little tree  from a local farmer. We chatted about whether or not we were going to buy a tree again this year, the whole cutting down a tree thing, but the cubbyhole made the decision for us. This year we will be decorating a pre-existing evergreen out front, outside, and out of the way. It is ok. I have already come to terms with it.

Last week, Stephen decided that he would put up our clothesline on Sunday. He decided this before we knew it would be raining and painfully cold. To no avail--- come rain, wind, or hail--- Stephen was going to make it happen. He was out there in his poncho digging holes. I love this man. He did decide that tightening the lines could wait until a sunnier time; after all, I would not be hanging laundry until then anyway. While he was digging holes, I baked a cake. (do not roll your eyes so quickly... I also cleaned the house and did the ironing...)

Back to the cake... If you like coffee, biscuits, and cake, follow this plan for the next rainy morning.
Step 1: put on a pot of coffee and make a little bit extra...
Step 2: make a batch of buttermilk biscuits
Step 3: bake a chocolate cake with the rest of the buttermilk and the extra cup of coffee
Step 4: share it all with friends

This type of morning makes me long for a slumber party with my nieces and nephews. (sisters, may I borrow your children?)

 

Rainy Day Chocolate Cake
molded from a recipe at epicurious.com

3 ounces semisweet chocolate bar or semi sweet chocolate chips
1 1/2 cups hot brewed coffee
2 cups sugar
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder (not Dutch process)
2 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoons salt
3 large eggs
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups well-shaken buttermilk
3/4 teaspoon vanilla

Make cake layers:
1. Preheat oven to 300°F. and grease 2, 8 inch circle pans. Line bottoms with rounds of parchment paper
2. Finely chop chocolate, if using a bar, and combine with hot coffee in a small bowl. Let mixture stand, stirring occasionally, until chocolate is melted, mixture is smooth, and has cooled
3. Into a medium bowl sift together sugar, flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt
4. In a large bowl beat eggs with an electric mixer until thickened slightly and lemon colored (about 2 minutes with a hand-held mixer)
5. Slowly add oil, buttermilk, vanilla, and melted chocolate mixture to eggs, beating until combined well. Add flour mixture and beat on medium speed until just combined
6. Divide batter between pans and bake in middle of oven until a tester inserted in center comes out clean, 1 hour to 1 hour and 10 minutes
7. Cool layers completely in pans on racks. Run a thin knife around edges of pans and invert layers onto racks

The recipe had you frost both layers for a two layer cake, but I wrapped one layer and put it in the freezer for another day. I also did not frost it. For one thing, I do not like frosting all that much, and for a second thing, the cake is so amazingly moist --delicious-- superb-- it needs nothing under which to hide.

One should not live on cake alone, I suppose, and a smart balance would be deep bowls of soup.
Kids and adults alike, this soup exceeds expectations of what Chicken Noodle Soup should be. The recipe serves 6, but go ahead and double it. You will want to give some to a neighbor.

 

here you go... a photo of my lunch

Chicken Noodle Soup

1/4 cup unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, diced
2 carrots, peeled and sliced into half moons
4 stalks celery, diced
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 tbsp rubbed sage or 3 tbsp fresh minced sage
1 tbsp dried thyme
2 tsp black pepper
3 cups pulled roasted chicken breast or thighs
2 quarts chicken stock
6 oz wide egg noodles
salt to taste

1. Clean and cut all of your vegetables. melt butter in large soup pot
2. Sauté vegetables in butter for  7 minutes over medium heat
3. Add flour, sage, thyme, and black pepper
4. Stir well to coat all the vegetables in flour. Cook 2 minutes to brown the flour.
5. Slowly drizzle in a bit of stock. Stir well. Drizzle in a bit more and scrape the brown bits from the bottom on the pot. Stir in the rest of 1 quart of stock
6. Add chicken and bring to a low boil. Stir well. Soup should be slightly thickened
7. Add more stock if necessary so that there is enough liquid to add the noodles. Add noodles as soup is boiling. Stir well. Cook 7 minutes.
8. Check a noodle for done-ness. You will need to salt to taste. The soup is more the texture of a hearty stew or chicken and pastry.... oh it is so good. It also works with leftover turkey if you have bits you stowed in the freezer

Today I am going to buy a new camera... Mine has been on the blitz.... I want to shower you with beautiful photos of food but as of now my shutter will not budge... I do have a little photo of one of those fabulous nephews I want to borrow. Maybe I am too proud an aunt, but I want you to see it anyway...

He will not be much help with making biscuits but he sure is a handsome little fellow...

Until next time... Enjoy the day... rain or shine...

Initiated, thankfully

As bizarre ...embarrassing... as this is, while I was in the middle of Thanksgiving prep extravaganza, the thought actually ran through my head that if my kitchen were a fraternity then my oven had just been rushed. I laughed out loud at myself for thinking about a fraternity and for thinking about it in comparison to my kitchen. Never fear, I apologized profusely, and asked the kitchen's forgiveness.
Yesterday, my dad stopped through town with my aunt and cousin. They wanted to see our new little cubbyhole. After the quick 4.2 seconds tour, we headed to the Farmers Market.

sheerly giddy: (definition)
standing among mounds of apples, heaps of collards, pounds of sweet potatoes, happy farmers, and knowing Thanksgiving is only two days away... and counting

Aunt Valerie gets how stunning a daikon radish can be, nearly squeals at the color of fresh collards, and buys peppers because they are pretty and she will figure out how to turn them into dinner.
I love that about her. Sifting through smells and colors, we chatted about life; interrupting ourselves to swoon over the prettiest root.

Tomorrow our family will all gather at the coast for the feast. It is no secret that I am elated at the thought of a gorgeous meal, loads of good bites, and scraping the plate after pie. The immense blessing of a feast sometimes still stops me in my tracks. In the bustle of pies and stuffings I long for a heightened gratefulness, thankfulness, for every bite. Life this last year has placed me in relationships with many friends barely able to feed their families. This is not meant to be a soapbox or guilt trip really, but because I have been so blessed to have a family, blessed to have a feast, this is rather a truth I long to live:
I want to know every second is a gift, every gift an investment, every investment a responsibility, every responsibility an opportunity to steward gratefully. My hope for my family and yours is that we eat with gratitude instead of gluttony, unity in place of enmity.
Thinking through my blessings, I count Soup Spoon at least twice. You are lovely for reading and commenting. Please know I appreciate, read, and treasure every one of your thoughts. Thanks for sharing them.

I am nearly teary, honestly...

I suppose you want a recipe while you are here, and that is good because I have one for you.
After whipping pounds of sweet potatoes, baking pumpkin pies, and candying pecans I wanted salt... anchovies even!!! just give me savory, salty, and deep. After perusing the shelves of my fridge and determining what items were not already claimed for Thanksgiving, I tossed chanterelle mushrooms into the skillet with a bit of butter and sea salt, boiled organic spaghetti, minced a handful of fresh parsley, and zested a lemon. ohh this was just right...

Spaghetti with Chanterelle Mushrooms serves 2

4-6 oz spaghetti
2 cups chanterelle mushrooms, cleaned well
1/2 cup flat leaf parsley
zest of 1/2 lemon (about 1 tsp)
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
olive oil for tossing pasta
1/2 tbsp butter to sauté mushrooms
sea salt and fresh cracked black pepper to taste

1. Boil water for pasta
2. Heat medium sized skillet over medium low heat and melt butter. Toss in mushrooms and a dash of salt
3. Let mushrooms cook until their natural moisture evaporates (about 20 minutes). Stir occasionally
4. While mushrooms are cooking, wash and mince parsley. Zest the lemon
5. Taste a mushroom. When they are tender and browned, toss in parsley and lemon zest
6. Cook and drain pasta. Toss with a bit of olive oil. If your skillet is big enough, just toss the pasta in with mushrooms once they have finished cooking. If the skillet is too small, toss the pasta back into the pot and add the mushrooms to it
7. Drizzle balsamic and salt and pepper to taste.
8. enjoy.... You may replace chanterelles with an exotic or wild blend of mushrooms if you would like, and a shaving or two of parmeggiano-reggiano would be a nice touch.

Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy it however you spend it.

Snug as two bugs in a rug

Thursday, Stephen and I moved for 15 hours--- in the blowing--- barely over freezing--- rain. Even without a cape, he is my hero.
More than once, I stood on the porch and whimpered at the rain. It kept blowing--- cold, wet, and spiteful. We loaded a U-Haul 1 and ½ times, loaded my truck 2 times, cleaned the old place, and began to make our little cubbyhole a home.
Friday has happened about the same except with the bonus of sore arms and backs. A lot of cardboard, making messes, cleaning messes, and then making them again is pretty much how we passed the day. Well after 30 hours of moving and work, I just now had to plea with Stephen to back away from the tools.  Decisions on where to hang art should not be made at the end of 30 hours of moving. Never do anything too permanent—tattoos, pet buying, or art hanging--after 30 something hours of moving. It might not be a regret at this point in the exhaustion, but later, most likely it will be a regret.
Today, in the intermittent moments between putting away boxes, I made friends with the oven. That rolls from my finger tips with enormous relief... Friends with the oven.
Actually, for an electric oven, I think she is pretty good at what she does. Today she fried 2 eggs, made a pot of tea, roasted a sweet potato, boiled a pot of lentils, and baked a batch of gingersnaps. All went well. She even has this lovely '1 minute until timer is finished' ding. I like that.
Through all of the cardboard, muck, and awkwardness, the pumpkin pie recipe gently asks for the spotlight. I have been thinking of you, and how if I were you I would want the recipe for pumpkin pie now and so I am quickly sending this off from free wireless at a local coffee shop.
The batch of gingersnaps I just mentioned is for the super special crust I mentioned in the last post.  Pumpkin pie was meant to be made in a gingersnap crust, and I am not sure why this truism was not decided a long time ago.
This is how I do it, and I doubt you will regret it if you decide to give it a go.
Make the gingersnap recipe below, or if you are pressed for time, you could buy gingersnaps and make the crust.

this feels like home

Pumpkin Pie with a Gingersnap crust

Gingersnaps about 2 dozen 3 inch cookies
This recipe for gingersnaps is adapted from the lovely Foster’s Market cookbook. These cookies keep well for a week. Make them and prep the crumbs so that assembling the pie comes together quickly.

½ cup butter (1 stick)
1 cup sugar
½ tsp salt
1 large egg
½ cup molasses
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves

1. Cream butter and sugar. Add egg and salt, beat well.
2. Slowly add molasses while mixing.
3. Sift dry ingredients together and add to wet mixture.
4. drop tablespoon size cookie dough balls onto baking sheet about 3 inches apart. Press the dough to ¼ inch thickness.
5. Bake 20 minutes until crisp. Let cool completely, eat a few, and crush 2 cups for the crust.

Crust
I make this like a graham cracker crust but without the added sugar of a traditional graham cracker crust.

1 1/2 or 2 cups gingersnap crumbs
1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted

1. Pulse crumbs in food processor and drizzle in the butter until all crumbs are wet.
  *** If you do not have a food processor, crush cookies by putting them in a ziploc and crushing them with a rolling pin. Place crumbs in a mixing bowl and drizzle in butter; stirring until butter is evenly distributed.
2. Press crust evenly into 9 inch pie plate. Bake at 350 for 8 minutes. Let cool and assemble filling.

Pumpkin filling
This filling was adapted from Bon Appetit Novemebr 2007. I love using the Mascarpone for a light and still full flavor filling. Mascarpone is sold in most grocery stores in the specialty cheese department.

1 cup fresh pumpkin purée or canned pure pumpkin
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground clove
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 8-ounce container mascarpone cheese

1. Using electric mixer, beat pumpkin and sugar in large bowl until well blended.
2. Add eggs, spices, and salt and beat until blended. Add mascarpone cheese and beat just until mixture is smooth. Transfer filling to prepared crust.

  Bake pie until custard is set, about 55 minutes.

Please love this pie.

Give Thanks. Share a slice with a neighbor. Eat a slice by a fire. Eat a slice for breakfast.

Packing Pumpkins

Do you feel it; the nimble shift from pumpkins to peppermint?
Last year all of the pie pumpkins were completely gone from the market two weeks prior to Thanksgiving! Purchased pumpkin puree is better than no pie at all I suppose, but I learned my early bird gets the worm lesson last year; and they are not going to pull a fast one on this little bird again. Two precious pie pumpkins have been waiting on my table for over a week. Fresh pumpkin pie is on the horizon; I can smell it.
Stephen and I are moving on Thursday to a cozy little place I affectionately have coined the 'cubbyhole'. We think we should use less resources, and thus we are downsizing to a sweet little, well, cubbyhole. (The whole house is the size of our current living room and dining room.) This makes 'what to pack' and 'what to give away' a quite imperative decision. Mostly, we have given away.
The change excites me; the challenge seems inviting. It only catches in my throat when I acknowledge that I am leaving a glorious gas stove and greeting an electric coil. The greeting is sort of flat and small; not a greeting at all really. Just a little "hi". Even then I just rolled my eyes when I wrote it! (geez, L*Joy)
At least I will have a stove! At least I will have a cubbyhole! I should be more grateful. Honestly, is it really that big of a deal? I will keep my response to myself.
Filled with the beauty of boxes and the luring charm of freshly spackled walls, our house is looking so uncomfortably ready to be moved, that I am also feeling this uncomfortable ache like needing to move a foot that has fallen asleep. It hurts more at first, but is always worth it.

all packed up... almost

We move exactly one week before the most anticipated culinary holiday of my year, and I will be cooking on a new electric stove... Get ready little stove. You're about to show me what you're made of.

This morning I needed to pack the rest of the kitchen. If there was already something in the oven, I knew I would be more excited to be in the kitchen and packing. In an effort to stay on task with this week's schedule, roasting the pumpkins seemed to be a good use of oven time without distracting me too much from packing. Because pumpkin puree freezes well, making it in advance is perfectly ok and sort of smart actually. To be really smart is to freeze it in 1 cup or 1/2 cup portions for easier use later. (I have found it best to freeze it in small freezer ziplocs so that I can get a lot of the air out, and prevent a bit of frost bite.)
After I got the pumpkin in the oven, I decided I should clean the seeds and roast them as well. Roasted pumpkin seeds are a nice pat on the back for good pumpkin-roasting effort. They are delicious spicy, sweet, and salty. This morning I candied them.

Candied Pumpkin Seeds
2 cups pumpkin seeds
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1/8 tsp ground clove
1/4 tsp paprika (or smoked paprika)
1/4 tsp sea salt
2 tbsp maple syrup

1. Heat oven to 400.
2. Place seeds in a colander. Rinse all of the pumpkin flesh from the seeds
3. Spread seeds out on a parchment or Silpat lined baking sheet
4. Bake 10 minutes to dry them out a bit
5. Remove from pan and toss in bowl with spices, maple syrup, and salt
6. Spread out on pan and bake 15-20 minutes. Let cool and break into chunks
7. enjoy
 

If you are roasting your own pie pumpkin (you better go right now and buy one), and then slice in half top to bottom. Scoop out seeds and place seeds in colander. Lay pumpkin halves flat on jelly roll pan, and roast at 400 until soft (45 minutes). Let cool. Scoop out flesh, and purée in food processor. Store in fridge for 3-5 days or freeze in portion sizes for later use.

I want you to have my pumpkin pie recipe. It is custardy and gorgeous with a super special crust. I will tell you all about it once I try it this weekend in my new electric oven.

Maybe this new oven needs a name...

Happy Birthday

Amazing. I am so glad you are here.
Today we celebrate the release of Soup Spoon. The past month of talking to her, teaching her, learning from her, beating the table in frustration of not understanding what the heck HTML is talking about, has been a lovely time. Truly lovely, even beating the table. Many moments in the beginning I felt myself being vacuumed towards the stove and peeled from this screen, but through trial, error, error, error, and a lot of hot tea, here we are. Ahhh. I like this place.

Ok Soup Spoon. Now is when I shove you from the nest. They will love you. Go ahead. Go ahead.

Stephen and I were talking last night about the perfect post for the release of this blog, and nothing could be more fitting than Emily's Birthday Brunch--- two births of incredibly special things that I love.
Sunday marked the anniversary of our dear friend Emily's birth. She, being such a good friend, allowed me the opportunity of making brunch in her honor. I asked her for any special requests, and Stephen began begging her to ask me for bacon. Stephen loves bacon, and we only have it at special occasions, sporadically. I have nothing personally against the food. How could I not love salty crisp fat smothered in brown sugar and spice chased with rich black coffee? Honestly. It is just a food to enjoy in moderation. Stephen thinks moderation could be a little less moderate when it comes to anything pork; well, that will be a whole other post entirely.  When the menu was planned, Emily included buttermilk biscuits, and sweet and spicy bacon. (good job begging, Stephen)

Saturday, Stephen helped me schlep the bags of pretty things from the market. Balancing 4 bags of groceries on a bicycle is about the extent of thrill seeking I look for in a week. Those of you who have wobbled your way home with anchors hanging from each handlebar, and a full basket on back; know exactly the thrill I am mentioning.
By the time we left the market, this was the rest of the menu...

goat's cheese, ginger,  and marscapone stuffed dates... red wine stewed fresh figs with cream... sauteéd apples with cranberries... carrot muffins... buttermilk biscuits... sweet and spicy bacon... hard aged cheddar with french dijon and cornichons wrapped in salami... sliced mandarin oranges...eggs over easy fried in paprika and sea salt... coffee and pots of hot tea...

Sunday morning came beautifully with chilly fall wind and lots of bright sunshine. My eager little fingers had been waiting a month for this brunch. I hurried to the kitchen and began rinsing cranberries, cutting the stems off of figs, peeling apples, and drinking horrible coffee (keep reading we will get to this). First I layered the fresh figs in a Le Creuset baking dish, and covered them with a Cabernet Sauvignon. I stewed them for 35 minutes, and then reduced the wine on the stove finishing it with honey, cinnamon, and heavy cream.

red wine figs with basil and cream

The apples got on the stove with fresh cranberries and a few scoops of brown sugar. I whipped marscapone cheese and ground ginger with soft goat's cheese and stuffed medjool dates with a rounded scoop. The salami became a blanket around a cornichon pickle on a layer of grainy french dijon and a piece of aged white cheddar. A bit of brown sugar was mixed with cumin and chili powder and sprinkled on the Applewood Smoked Bacon before crisped in the oven. The eggs would be made to order and so all that remained were the biscuits.

Buttermilk Biscuits makes 1 dozen
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tbsp and 1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp minced fresh rosemary or 1 tsp dried rosemary or thyme
1/2 cup unsalted butter, chopped
1 cup buttermilk

1. Heat oven to 425. Chop butter and chill in freezer.
2. Sift flour with baking powder, salt, and herbs.
3. Cut in butter and fold in buttermilk.
4. Gently scoop dough onto baking sheet and roll to 3/4 inch thick. Fold over and roll again.
5. Gently perforate square pieces and bake for 22 minutes.

The technique to getting nice flaky layers is to have the butter truly cold, work quickly, and cut the fat evenly into the flour. If the butter is too warm, the biscuits will be dense. If the butter hunks are to big, they melt out of the biscuits and burn on the pan instead of melt in the biscuits. I know this from experience, and  burning butter smells dramatically different than golden biscuits fluffing in the oven. Dramatically different.
To make a great biscuit, heat the oven and then cut the butter into small hunks. Set the butter in the freezer while measuring the dry ingredients. Mix butter into flour mixture with a pastry cutter or two knives until it looks like little peas in the flour.

Quickly fold in the buttermilk. Have a baking sheet lined with a Silpat nearby and scoop biscuit dough onto sheet. Roll with rolling pin until about 3/4 inch thick. Fold over once and roll again. Gently perforate the dough into square pieces and bake.

Inquiring minds are waiting for the bit about horrible coffee. Oh it was horrible. In the process of the melodious morning, Stephen put on the coffee. Excited, I savored my first sip and it tasted acidic and almost (excuse my language) like vomit. Stephen tried his mug, as I was hoping it was just mine that reeked, and oh no, his was just the same. We planned a back-up trip to buy a carafe of coffee as Stephen ran two pots of water through the maker in an attempt to clean the machine. On the next batch of coffee the flavor was still there, better but still there. He scrubbed every piece and then scrubbed them again. Ran hot water through one more time, and tried another batch of coffee. With scrunched up noses and hopeful palates we tasted a sip. Ahh relief --- we will indeed be heavily caffeinated.
Emily successfully ran a half marathon that morning before brunch, and as tired confused legs sort of hobbled her in the door, we proceeded with a brunch that tasted seamless.
Happy Birthday Emily.

Punicum granatum

hello hopeful

A friend of mine died today.

His body was ready for the next. His young life had been riddled with cancer, and he had hurt long enough. I am trying to see him standing tall, watching the sun come up over the waves, and running to meet it. I ran with him when he was here, but then we never could catch the sun.
When I hung up the phone, I looked through my tears trying to make sense of the swimming room. I wandered into the kitchen to feel comfortable, home. Leaning on the stove longing for security, I saw the hope of a fruit so eager to give new life.
Pomegranates tuck nearly 800 seeds inside their protective leathery skin. This boldness to place all energy into potential made me long to feel the same way--- to believe in new life.

Today my heart wants to cover my table with Pomegranates. Count each seed, a blessing, a promise. Let my fingers stay stained to remind myself of hope and life.
Pour on the red blood juice of a thousand Pomegranates; I need to focus on beginnings.

It is believed that Pomegranates (don't they deserve to be capitalized?) have been around since 3000 B.C. Botticelli captured them in art. In Greek mythology, Persephone was sent to the underworld because of succumbing to their temptation. Egyptian Kings were buried with a Pomegranate to help carry them into a new life. For me, today, they are hope.

Pomegranates can be intimidating to purchase; so strong and obscure in many ways, but they do not need to be. They are in season October through January, and readily available at most markets.There are tricks to avoid the staining mess of preparing a pomegranate, and if that is where you are, then please feel free to follow these steps. Slice the pomegranate's top off, and gently slice  into  sections. Submerge in a bowl of water and pull sections apart. Separate the seeds and drain off the water.

I like that method but not today. Today I want the stain.

Once you have a bowl of pomegranate seeds, look at them because they are so beautiful and then eat them right from the bowl. Toss them on spinach salad, garnish a bowl of sweet potato bisque, make a salsa for fish, or plop them on your yogurt. so lovely, so versatile, so worth it.

Counting hope and blessings was the way he lived; I must do nothing less in his death. Still, we will miss his joy, deep hugs, loud laughter, and music. It does not seem real.
Here is to hope. Here is to life. Here is to endless waves. Here is to a New Song.