Baking Edible Wreaths

Posted on December 9, 2019 by Ann Lovejoy
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Beautiful Gifts That Are Always Welcome

In recent years, our family holiday celebrations have been shrinking. With my brothers living hours away or clear across the country, we haven’t had a family reunion since my mom died. With dad long gone, Mom was the tie that bound my birth family together, if pretty loosely. I haven’t seen my brothers in years, though we’re sporadically in touch. I’ve encouraged my son and his wonderful wife to make their own family holiday traditions with their young children. My daughter and I are quite happy with very modest plans. Of course, I share some holiday cooking and crafting activities with my grandkids when they’re here for the day, but the days of excess are thankfully gone.

This new simplicity is fine by me, because I’ve been struggling for years (ok decades) with an out-of-balance urge to gift extravagantly (yet somehow equally !?!) to my kids, who couldn’t possibly reciprocate. It was a shock to realize that my extravagance created both gratitude and some overwhelmed resentment. In fact, when I announced that I’m no longer giving gifts to adults and didn’t want any myself, my adult kids were relieved. The thing is, I’ve enjoy being generous since early childhood. I like being able to share the bounty, but now that there’s less bounty, I have to be less impulsive, more careful and thoughtful about giving.

The Gift That Requires More Giving

For one thing, I’m more aware now of the chains of obligation that can get started with even a small act. Yesterday a young woman mentioned receiving a $5 Starbucks gift card at the office and feeling dismayed and conflicted. Should she reciprocate? Should she give something to everyone? She works in a government office mostly staffed by men and had assumed (probably quite rightly) that obligatory gifting wouldn’t be an issue. She was wondering if she should buy a big jar of treats and make little gift bags to give everyone. Yikes! Several of us encouraged her to resist the reflexive gifting, because it can cascade into far more than anyone intended. Busy young moms don’t need to come up with another 50 “little” gifts that don’t mean anything significant to anyone, including the giver. In such situations, maybe donate to Habitat For Humanity or an aid/service ground and post the card in the staff room.

Of course, my new simplicity is entirely voluntary, unlike that of holidays for millions of dispossessed people around the world. And unlike the enforced simplicity for people in my own country-state-town, people who are living in cars or tents and definitely not stressing about whether to send cards or cut back on the gifting habit. I still make things for the immediate family, but I’ve replaced second- and third-tier gifting with acts, like serving homemade food to people who are sleeping out, or handing out blankets and warm clothing.

Food, Beautiful Food

Having made all these bold resolutions, I find myself incapable of not making A FEW things for friends and neighbors. Happily, food is almost universally acceptable and if the experience of making or eating is shared, food gifts can lead to genuine interaction. Thus, the neighbor kids make cookies with my grandkids and take home a plateful, and their grandmother comes by with their youngest one to share a delightful Russian pastry and a cup of tea. Yay! Since most people say that special food is their favorite part of the holidays, here are some simple recipes for easy-to-make edible wreaths that look beautiful, taste wonderful, and are perfect for bringing to potlucks and parties.

Stuffed with sweet or savory fillings, these fragrant treats freeze beautifully; thaw and reheat briefly (15 minutes at 225 degrees) to bring out that amazing fresh bread smell. There’s no need to knead, as the patting and rolling does the trick. To reduce mess, work on a rimmed baking sheet and bake each wreath as soon as it rises. Basically, you shape dough into a long snake, about 28-30 inches long and 8-10 inches wide, which bites its own tail once filled. Place the snake seam-side down, then snip with scissors along the outer edge every inch or so. Tightly roll the dough to make cinnamon spirals, or simply fold over and gently pinch shut for fatter fillings. As the dough rises, the wreath gets wider, so center it on the pan.

Basic Bread Wreath

1-1/4 cups hot water
1 tablespoon molasses
1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
1 teaspoon dry yeast
1 tablespoon avocado or plain vegetable oil
4-5 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

In a mixing bowl, combine hot water, molasses, salt, and yeast. Let stand until yeast blooms (about 15 minutes). Stir in oil and enough flour to make a soft dough. Cover and let rise for 30 minutes, then transfer to a floured, rimmed baking sheet. Roll or pat into a long U-shape about 28-30 inches long and 6-7 inches deep. Fill, pinch ends together, snip, let rise and bake as directed each recipe.

Seasonal Fillings

Enjoy playing around with favorite ingredients; spinach and feta or soft goat cheese with green onions and smoked trout are wonderful starting places. Any yummy appetizer spread or dip will work, from artichoke and cheese to smoked salmon, as long as it’s thick; runny fillings make a leaky mess. For sweet treats, consider adding dried fruits, chopped nuts, and flaked coconut to the cinnamon spice rolls, spread the dough with homemade jam or lemon curd. Yum!

Holiday Spice Wreath

1 batch bread wreath dough
2 tablespoons avocado or plain vegetable oil
3 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon each coriander, ginger, and cardamom
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar

Working on a floured, rimmed baking sheet, make dough snake and brush with oil, leaving edges oil-free. Sift sugar and spices together and sprinkle evenly over the oil, then add brown sugar and press down gently. Roll dough up lengthwise to make a fairly tight “snake” and form the circle, seam-side-down, pinching ends firmly together. With kitchen scissors, make even cuts all around the outer edge. Let rise for 30 minutes. Bake at 350 degrees F until firm and golden (40-50 minutes). Let cool for 10-15 minutes before serving or serve at room temperature.

Ham & Leek Filling

8 ounces soft goat cheese at room temperature
1/3 cup grated Parmesan or Romano cheese
1/4 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
1/8 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 leek, thinly sliced (white/pale green parts only)
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
2 cups shredded kale
1 cup finely chopped ham
1 batch bread wreath dough

Mash goat cheese with grated cheese, salt and smoked paprika, set aside. In a wide, shallow pan, combine oil, leeks, onion, kale and ham over medium heat and cook, stirring, until soft (5-6 minutes). Cool slightly and blend with goat cheese. On a rimmed, floured baking sheet, prepare dough snake. Spread ham mixture over prepared dough, leaving 1/2 inch edges free of spread. Gently roll up dough and make the circle, seam-side-down, pressing ends together well. With kitchen scissors, snip all around the outer edge. Let rise for 30 minutes. Bake at 350 degrees F until firm and golden (40-50 minutes). Let cool for 10-15 minutes before serving or serve at room temperature.

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Nurturing Hope

Posted on December 2, 2019 by Ann Lovejoy
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Keeping On Keeping On And On

This morning I was struggling as usual with seasonal blues and political angst when my almost-four year old granddaughter arrived a few hours before her usual time. Seven hours later, my mood has shifted into the green, out of the pit and back to the world of living, growing people. Back to replenishment and renewal. Truth be told, seven hour stints with a kidlet or two more commonly leave me feeling frazzled, but today, youth worked its healing magic on the grumpy old granny. Hallmark moment? Not exactly, but there’s no denying that a dip into the realm of enchantment is, well, enchanting. It probably helped that we were one-on-one for most of the day, and that she can immerse herself in imaginative play for long stretches.

Her gentle burble formed a cheerful background to our projects, which ranged from knitting a ridiculous scarf of incredibly soft, incredibly tacky pale pink, fluffy yarn (me) to baking bread (us) and decorating our little fake tree with (unbreakable) glittery ornaments (her). Before long, she got caught up in making nests of tinsel garlands for the bird ornaments, who then got into complicated games with the knitted gnomes and trolls. The argumentative ones got won over by the promise of treats for good behavior and they ended up having a big picnic with a fleet of unicorn and dragons. Now they’re all nesting in the little tree, waiting hopefully for the return of a playful child.

There’s Hope & There’s Hope

A friend recently spoke about two kinds of hope; one is the anticipatory hope of looking forward to an awaited, presumably joyful event. That tickle of coming pleasure is as tasty as sugar, sweetening our days and soothing our nights. The other kind of hope is more like salt mixed with pepper, bringing us out of the daily trance with a jolt. This hope is not a soporific but a wake up call. Red alert! It’s an imperative cry for action, a klieg light shining in the dimness of dailiness, revealing what’s been disguised, overlooked, or ignored. This kind of hope inspires a willingness to live a changed life, leaving unquestioning comfort behind. We may not immediately recognize the impulse as hopeful but it is. When despair drags us down into the dark, hope pushes us up to the light, where we can see what’s happening and decide what we’re going to do about it.

That’s the part that has me wondering lately; what am I going to do about the it of the day? I’m very happy with my scaled down life, exchanging a very large house on acreage for a very modest renovated mobile home. I’m thrilled with our relatively small power bills, delighted to be driving an average of 12 miles a week instead of closer to 100. We can and do walk to most of our usual haunts. We don’t have bucket lists and we don’t travel anymore (something we’ve both been very glad to let go of, so no big merit points here). We’re largely ovo-lacto vegetarians with some fish and fowl (ok, and maybe a pound of bacon and a few pepperoni pizzas a year). All these reductions and changes have been voluntary and are practically and philosophically pleasing to us both.

That’s Nice, But

So where’s the effort, the hardship, the extra mile? I definitely don’t want to be one of the tediously moral high ground claiming people who make everyone else feel like crap, but should doing my bit really be this easy? Why am I so awkwardly aware that virtue signaling is a reflexive white privilege response to the universal challenge to “get active”? Who, me? How can I possibly do more than I do when I’m already being so GOOD? Personally, I’m finding clearer direction, inspiration and hope from teens all over the world.

The most obvious are stellar girls like Greta Thunberg, and Autumn Peltier, a 13 year old water protector from the Wikwemikong First Nation in northern Ontario who called out world leaders at the United Nations General Assembly in March. Her big question was the same as mine: what are you going to do about it? Pretty sure she was talking to me as well as to the international delegates. Closer to home, Kai Joseph, a Kitsap seventh-grader, collected bins of shoes for kids in foster care because the foster care kids her family cares for arrived with funky hand-me-downs that didn’t fit. I do walk local beaches, picking up trash every few weeks; could do that more often. I’m happy to donate shoes to foster kids and knit warm scarves and hats and fingerless gloves for homeless kids. Could do that more as well. I guess my real question is, how much is enough? Do we give until it hurts?

Hurting Doesn’t Help

Is giving supposed to hurt? Is it more virtuous if it hurts? I’m thinking no. I’ve been noticing how horrible I feel after reading or listening to the news, how helpless and depressed I am when those narratives run my life. There’s just so much gut wrenching news blasting at us every single day. I’m certainly not the only one who get overwhelmed and flees to the garden, or starts knitting hats and scarves, or makes too much bread and soup. It’s interesting that when I do retreat from the barrage for long enough to regain my balance, that’s when an activating hope bubbles up. That’s when I get renewed, energized, hopeful.

So of course we keep on voting, and exercising our rights as citizens by requiring our elected officials to act in our names and according to our will: Abolish ICE! Set the captive immigrant families free! Reunite those families and make reparation! Get the unfairly imprisoned out of jail-for-profit institutions and help them find their feet. Stop the increasing ecological abuses of all kinds NOW! We can call again and again and we must, for only by letting our representatives hear from us daily, over and over and over, can we expect them to act in our interests, not corporate interests.

Now For The Hard Part

And above all, we can all be kind, generous, quick to offer a hand when a need is made known. Stress can make us crabby, that’s for damn sure, but let’s make a pact to stay kind. And happy. I used to think that the pursuit of happiness was selfish, shallow, and frivolous. The older I get, the greater the value I see in happiness for everyone. For one thing, happy people don’t covet other people’s land. Happy people don’t need to fill an inner black hole with stuff. Happy people don’t create competitive hierarchies or play win-lose games with people, places, or things. Happy people don’t make war, don’t steal (legally or otherwise), don’t develop addictions. As the Buddha famously pointed out, happy people don’t need anything and they like to help. So now, I’m trying my best to be a happy person. It’s definitely NOT the easiest work I’ve ever done. Wait, what? So maybe this IS the hard part? Hmmm….

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Rosemary And Rue

Posted on November 25, 2019 by Ann Lovejoy
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Light at the end of the tunnel

Thanksgiving and TDOR (Huh?)

This is a complicated time of year for many people, with traditionally jolly food-and-family holidays piling up and darkness growing every day. I’ve been grieving deeply for three years now, but my own downhill slide gets a push at Halloween, when my husband died, then picks up speed a few weeks later (both my parents died two days after my November birthday, though twelve years apart). Next stop, Thanksgiving; as we watch the current regime deliberately destroy Native America sacred sites and give the pass to pipelines that were guaranteed to leak into sacred waters, the old Thanksgiving story definitely gets a re-write. These days, we begin our low key celebration by honoring the Suquamish people, the original inhabitants of the land we live on. I’m glad that their tribal lands are slowly being recaptured as their culture is strengthened, though clearly so much was/is lost to white greed and privilege.

As the winter holidays loom, I can still feel intensely thankful for the loving people in my life and the fruitful opportunities for service and enjoyment I’m still offered. I’m beyond grateful to have a sweet little home for my daughter to share, and grateful that we can afford to live in the community we both love. It’s still fun to share holidays with my grandkids, who enjoy making decorations and doing craft projects, but the thought of obligatory gaiety and gifts leaves me soul sick. I’m finding excess sickening for many reasons, from climate change to greed and willful cultural ignorance, but also because Thanksgiving follows so closely after TDOR. What’s that?

Speak Their Names

Transgender Day Of Remembrance commemorates the Transgender people who were murdered in the past year. Counts of known murders are kept from November 20 of one year to the next and published internationally. Many communities in many countries honor these victims of violent hate crimes by speaking their names and giving a few facts about them; usually all that’s known is where, when and how they died. Sometimes not even that. This year, every one of them were people of color. Most were murdered in South and Central America, but those are only the ones we know about. We know that many more transgender people were killed in India, in Russia, in China, and on and on, but we get little or no information from those countries.

I came away from our local TDOR ceremony with a handful of cards which I took to church. I invited people to take one home and speak the name, and all my cards were gone in a few minutes. I kept one card, that of Amma Hajjani, who was beaten to death in Sindh, Pakistan on March 26, 2019. I’ve got her card sitting next to me as I work, and I carry it with me through the day. We set a place for her at mealtimes, and put her card on the plate, along with a candle and a sprig of rosemary for remembrance. If you would like to honor any of this years 317 murder victims, here’s a link to this year’s lost:

Memorializing 2019

Heartwarming Tea & Cake

When I am sad and discouraged, the right cup of tea can bring my heart back to wholeness. This bracing blend combines the gentle spiciness of turmeric with brisk rosemary, sweet orange zest and juice, and the warmth of honey. It’s great for discouraging colds and flu and it’s very comforting on cold, dark days, especially with a warm piece of rosemary tea cake.

Rosemary Orange Turmeric Tea

1 organic orange, juiced, zest freshly grated
1 tablespoon freshly grated turmeric root
1/4 teaspoon chopped rosemary
4 cups simmering water
1-2 teaspoons honey

In a tea pot, combine the orange zest, turmeric and rosemary and add the hot water. Cover and let steep for 5-15 minutes, depending on taste. Strain into cups and add orange juice and honey to taste. Makes about 4-1/2 cups.

Rosemary Tea Cake

Rich with nuts and fragrant with fresh rosemary, this not-too-sweet tea cake is delicious on a chilly afternoon.

Rosemary Winter Tea Cake

1 cup organic all purpose flour
2/3 cup coarsely ground raw almonds or walnuts
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
1 cup cane sugar
zest of 2 lemons
1/4 cup minced fresh rosemary
1/2 cup plain whole milk yogurt
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup avocado or vegetable oil
1 cup raspberry or any jam OR lemon curd

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Generously butter a heavy 9 x 2 inch round cake pan and set it aside. In a small bowl, stir together flour, ground nuts, baking powder and salt, set aside. In a large bowl, combine sugar, lemon zest, and rosemary, rubbing between your fingers until fragrant and well blended. Add the yogurt, eggs, and vanilla and blend well. Stir in dry ingredients, then gently fold in the oil with a rubber spatula (batter will be pretty thick). Scrape it into your buttered pan and tap the pan lightly. Bake at 350 F until set and golden-edged (35-40 minutes). Cool on a rack for 10 minutes, invert onto a flat plate then flip back onto the rack to cool completely. When cool, slice cake in half horizontally and spread middle with jam or lemon curd. Serves at least one; refrigerate leftovers for up to 2 days.

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When Tradition Meets Trend

Posted on November 18, 2019 by Ann Lovejoy
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Treasuring A Heritage Crop

I recently took part in an ongoing if slightly weird community discussion about kale. It all started with a social media post asking if anyone actually liked kale. Yikes! The floodgates opened and hundreds of people spoke up. I found it fascinating that some folks seemed resentful of kale’s popularity, scornfully calling it “so last year” and accusing high profile chefs of tricking them into eating something fit only for animal fodder. Others protested that kale can be wonderful, usually citing favorite restaurant dishes and recipes. Of the hundreds of responses, mine was the only one (that I saw, anyway) that discussed kale as a heritage crop, grown from the Mediterranean basin into Asia Minor through Europe and into the UK by the Middle Ages. Response? Crickets….

I guess I’m a little odd, but I’m always intrigued by the ways in which foods migrate around the world, becoming firmly traditional in some countries and fading from popularity in others. Brassica oleracea, the progenitor of kale, cabbage, broccoli etc., was a common food in Greek and Roman cultures by around 2000 BC. Thanks in part to various invasions, ancestral forms of kale and cabbage made their way across Europe to find an especially warm welcome in what’s now Scotland, where a heritage Shetland kale is still grown, a landrace whose origins are said to date back to around 600 BC when Celtic travelers wandered the known world. Scotland kale and its cole kin were farmhouse staples for hundreds of years, if not longer. Well into the twentieth century, Scots called any kitchen garden a kale yard, and ‘come to kale’ was a traditional invitation to a meal.

The World In A Kale Yard

These days, kale comes in many colors, textures, and even flavors, from peppery to mild and slightly sweet. As a dedicated kale lover, I’m thrilled to be able to grow kale in astonishing variety, from intensely ruffled Siberian Blue to frilly, crimson Chidori, which tastes sweetest when touched by frost. Deep magenta Redbor has curly-edged leaves that look and taste terrific in raw salads and cook in just a few minutes. White Russian kale has lacy foliage with white veining and is also most delicious after a light frost. Red Russian, deep green with pink and red edging, adds a tender crunch to salads. Vivid, electric green Prizm has won several awards, since its curly, almost stemless, cut-and-come-again leaves are excellent raw or cooked.

Crinkled and slender, Black Tuscan kale is a mild yet flavorful cross between kale and cabbage that my grandkids love, especially when we call it Dragonskin. Oregon-bred Dazzling Blue is another lacinato-type beauty, with blue-green foliage and hot pink ribs and a mellow flavor that’s lovely raw or cooked. I’m enchanted by Biera, an heirloom Portugese Sea Kale; it’s very tasty and the large leaves, jade green ribbed in ivory, look just like the charming pottery cabbage plates my mother collected in Portugal. Their thick ribs are as crisp as celery, while the leaves, sliced into chiffonade, are delicious in soups and stir fries. My whole family is wild about Kosmic Kale, a perennial Dutch tree kale that we harvest from every day of the year. My grandkids love to harvest the tender, blue-green foliage tipped and streaked with cream, and we enjoy it raw in sandwiches and salads as well as in almost any savory dish we make.

Kale In The Kitchen

If kale isn’t part of your usual repertoire, try adding chopped kale to casseroles, lasagna, and soups for extra color and texture. For extra crunch and a mild bite, add finely shredded kale or cabbage to tacos or hummus wraps. Need a quick side? Saute kale with olive oil and garlic, then spritz with lemon juice or drizzle with garlic-infused olive oil and toasted walnuts. Here are a few of our daily dishes, good warm or cold as sides or cooked salads, and leftovers make great omelet stuffing.

Three Vegans And A Fish

Bright and beautiful, this hearty side can become an entree with the addition of sliced sausages such as field roast or spicy Italian. The vinegar gives it an appealingly autumnal tang; try it with raspberry or blueberry vinegar as well as apple or pear cider vinegar.

Tangy Kale With Apples And Peppers

1 tablespoon olive or avocado oil
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
1 medium Honey Bee or any apple, diced
1 cup chopped sweet or spicy red pepper
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
4-6 cups chopped kale, stems finely chopped
2 cups red or purple cabbage, chopped
2-4 tablespoons cider or fruity vinegar

Combine oil, onion, apple, peppers and salt over medium heat and cook for 5 minutes. Add kale, cabbage and 2 tablespoons vinegar, cover pan and cook until tender (15-20 minutes). Adjust vinegar to taste and serve. Serves 4-6.

Lively with curry spices and fresh lime juice, this savory salad makes a satisfying vegetarian/vegan entree.

Black Kale Salad With Curry Dressing

3 cups Black Magic kale, stemmed and cut in ribbons
3 cups finely shredded cabbage
1 cup chopped sweet peppers
1/2 cup chopped red onion
1 Cara Cara orange, sectioned, peeled and chopped
1 cup cooked chickpeas
1/4 cup roasted peanuts
2 tablespoons golden raisins
1 cup Curry Dressing (see below)

In a bowl, combine all ingredients and gently toss. Serves 4-6.

Curry Dressing

2-3 tablespoons avocado or any oil
1 clove garlic, minced
1/8 teaspoon sea salt
1-2 teaspoons curry powder
1 organic lime, rind grated, juiced

Combine all ingredients in a small bowl, starting with small amounts of curry powder, salt and lime juice and adjusting seasoning to taste. Makes about 1/3 cup.

Quick Kale Crisps

Kids love these tasty tidbits for snacks or as a mealtime side dish. Nutritional yeast has a nutty, cheese-like flavor and packs a powerful amount of protein.

1 large bunch kale (any kind)
1 tablespoon avocado oil
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast (optional)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Trim tough stems from kale and save for soup. Chop the foliage into inch-wide ribbons. Pour oil into a rimmed baking sheet, add kale and toss gently with your hands to coat. Sprinkle with salt and nutritional yeast (if using) and bake at 400 until crisp (12-15 minutes). Serve immediately. Makes about 2 cups.

Poached Salmon with Kale and Oranges

1 pound skinless salmon fillet, cut in four strips
2 organic oranges, rind grated
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 cups chopped Kosmic Kale (or any)
4 green onions, thinly sliced

In a large pan, arrange salmon and sprinkle with half the orange zest, salt, and pepper. Juice one orange and add juice to pan with 1/4 cup water. Cut peel from remaining orange, section and chop, set aside. Cover pan and bring to a boil over medium high heat. Reduce heat to low and simmer until fish is opaque (136 degrees F., about 10 minutes per inch of fillet thickness). Remove fish to serving plates. Add kale, oranges, and remaining zest, salt and pepper, cover pan and cook until barely tender (3-4 minutes). Serve with fish, garnished with green onions. Serves four.

 

Posted in fall/winter crops, Gardening With Children, Recipes, Sustainable Gardening, Sustainable Living, Vegan Recipes | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments