Cloth and Not Cook: Vegetable Garden Wall Quilt

Three years ago while holed up for winter break in Washington, I bought a mini quilt pattern from Purl Soho (must also find the beading kit I got too) which I’ve finally been sewing this summer.   

I think I bought the fabrics for this quilt a couple years ago when I saw the perfect sky blue cotton at Hobby Lobby when it first opened in my city as well as purchasing this brown linen from Joann’s appropriately called Soil. And of course, I had to dip into my stash of Kona cottons to find the right fabric colors for the vegetables (and yes Kona has an orange called Carrot). But digging through all those Kona colors had me then organizing them into palettes.         

Like a squirrel, I got distracted from the vegetable patch quilt because hey there’s this Craftsy course called Weekend Patchwork, where I could make a pillow and play with all my gradients of pink and orange, which is yet another sewing project on the docket. And look it there! my color palette for the pillow echoes this bouquet of flowers hubs sets in the window above my sewing area.                                       

And with all this sewing, I have not really been cooking unless it’s breakfast or just grabbing an ice cream bar and eating while looking at and pondering design choices.                                     

 

But then my flowers wilted and it was time to refresh the bouquet (aka walk the dog and visit our garden) and then make tea after said walk.                

And of course, cuddle and kiss the dog before resuming sewing because she was feeling neglected.                              

And back to the wall quilt.                        

And all that's left is to hand stitch the binding as well as sew a hanger on the back. And then cut out backs for that striped pillow. But that's tonight. This morning after my 7 mile loop, I'm headed to campus with my sewing machine to continue quilting the mermaid. blanket.

Forest Bathing

Green space and immersion in nature is so important to mental health, and so I feed sanity as well as creativity by getting outside, whether beach or forest or a park even in the suburbs or a metropolis like NYC. I had forgotten the wonderment of fire flies in my youth on the East coast until three years ago, when traipsing back to Brooklyn after hearing opera in Central Park, night fell and flickering lights rose through dark shadows and gray dusk. My friends, Meral and Kat had never seen fireflies, and it was wonderful to re-live one of my childhood memories through their eyes. I don’t live in an evergreen state high up in the Pacific Northwest, but I am fortunate that the Bay Area does have some of the most beautiful natural settings.                                   

Yesterday I ranged further than my 5-mile loop into the Jepson Laurel part of the trail. It’s so bizarre to encounter a pay phone and bike station as well as picnic tables after three and a half miles of just deer and trees and water views.          

                            

And it made sense when I read the park information signs.                      

Back to trail this morning, and one of these runs will someday be all the way to the Millbrae end of the trail.

Cook: Frittata

My neighbor, Cecilia has an espresso machine and makes the most wonderful iced coffees, and I wanted her to make me one with orgeat or vanilla syrup.              

In turn, I made a frittata. I’d been looking at recipes. The ratios seem to be 6 eggs to 1/4 cup heavy cream or milk or half-and-half, 2 cups meat and vegetables and 1 cup cheese.                            

I’d decided on a south of the border flavor profile, In addition to the breakfast sausage, I chopped and added zucchini, mild jalapeños, red bell pepper—which I seasoned with cayenne and paprika and a bit of dried oregano as well as salt—to sauté in my cast iron into which to pour the custard.                             

               

On top of the filling and custard I added the cut-up (I only had sliced) pepper Jack cheese and then popped it into a 400 degree oven for 8 to 12 minutes.        

      

I also made a Mexican-style crema withsour cream, chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, lime zest, lime juice and a bit of chopped cilantro. And then I felt compelled to make a pico de Gallo for another garnish.                                    

And because I also had cheddar beer bread from chili the other night, I decided to slice and toast it. Quick breads are sort of like biscuits anyway right? But I buttered the bread/biscuits before popping them into the oven alongside the frittata.                                     

And then it was presentation time.      

And that’s how I made frittata with the ingredients I had on hand. The frittata was jiggly and raw in the middle, and so I let it unfortunately cook for another 10 minutes (which should have only been another 3 to 5 minutes) while making the crema and salsa. But neighbors declared it delicious and ate it.

Cook: Thai Red Curry

I love grocery shopping, and though I try to stick to a list, sometimes I’ll put something in my cart on a whim especially if it’s on sale. I think that’s how I ended up with a small jar of Thai red curry paste, which I finally cooked last night. First I sautéed chopped onions and then garlic in coconut oil while in the oven I broiled boneless but not skinless chicken thighs to crisp. I next added the curry paste and coconut milk and the juices from the broiled chicken to make the sauce and then added sliced zucchini, red bell pepper, straw mushrooms, and the chicken thighs. I also put in kaffir lime leaves which had been residing in my freezer as well as lemongrass from a tube and fish sauce.                       

   

I first tasted this cuisine at Marnee Thai in the Inner Sunset of San Francisco in the 90s when I resided there. I loved the complexity of flavors and the raw freshness of its ingredients. Later I had a boyfriend with whom I would trek to a Thai grocery in Berkeley where we bought jars of curry paste, cans of coconut milk and plain brown paper packages of Thai tea, which we would then cook the curry at home with chicken breasts and summer squash and add sweetened condensed milk to the brewed Thai tea. I remember always adding a tablespoon of brown sugar into the coconut milk mixture and not knowing that fish sauce needed to be in the sauce too, but we loved and voraciously consumed our simple takes on a green or red Thai chicken curry anyway. Unfortunately the hubs doesn't really care for Thai food, but fortunately there was leftover chicken pierogi or leftover beer marinated grilled chicken for him to eat instead. And I had made decaffeinated sweet tea but didn't want to give myself diabetes by adding sweetened condensed milk to it too. Also I only had a few leaves of Italian basil in the garden but plenty of cilantro which I sprinkled atop steamed jasmine rice ladled with with the curry vegetables, chicken and sauce. Fiery but delicious.

And I've two more chicken thighs and sauce leftover to which I can add more vegetables for dinners later this week. I also need to remember to hunt for Thai basil plants at the farmers' market.

And after dinner, I bit the bullet and redeemed half of my frequent flier miles for a round trip ticket to Kauai.                  

And put my trip on my calendar.

I also looked at the weather. Lot more temperate than I expected, but I imagine the humidity will make it seem warmer. 

And oh, the app shows the temps of all my favorite cities I've traveled to. I'd been hesitant to fly somewhere, especially with the Delta variant concerns--and so this trip will be my toe in the water tourism.

Cook: Summer Squash

So far I’ve sautéed, made fritters, incorporated into a lasagna, and this time incorporated zucchini or yellow squash into a gratin. I chopped and then sautéed it first with thawed frozen spinach and minced garlic.                 

 

And then I spooned the sautéed vegetables into a gratin dish and then layered two sliced hard boiled eggs on top. Next I readied the ingredients for a béchamel sauce.

I melted and heated butter just to the edge of turning nutty brown. And then I added an equal amount of flour into the pan and whisked to make a roux. 

 

And then I poured in milk and continued to whisk until it was a sauce.

I wished I had poured a little more milk to thin it so that the sauce was thick enough to coat the back of a spoon and not so much like gloppy mashed potatoes. But I figured the layer of grated gruyere cheese would remedy the dish.

 

I popped it into the oven and then made myself after a week of embracing sober curiosity, a Bloody Mary, which I justified as my salad AND soup course for this meal. And then my gratin was done enough.    

 

In retrospect, the gratin needed more salt--in the vegetables and in the béchamel because even with nutmeg and cayenne it tasted a bit bland, but I'm also hypertensive and so I'm just gonna have to train my taste buds again.

Also I only ate half, and will eat the other half for dinner another night, which I'll probably garnish with more grated gruyere cheese for more flavor. And make another gratin of macaroni and cheese for the hubs though I had also made him chili con carne and frijoles while I ate vegetarian last night.

Cook: Beer Night

I decided yesterday to walk the girl at the park near our plot in the community garden. While there, I picked this bouquet.

It had been inspired by this mini bouquet I saw at the Blossom florist shop last week.

And then it was time to cook dinner. I do love an I.P.A., but since I’m embracing sober curiosity, I decided to instead cook with my can of beer—and no, not beer can chicken. I had a box of beer bread mix in my cupboard, which called for 12 ounces of beer.  I’m not likely to make this ever again, but I tried it and know that yeasted cheddar beer breads are tummies.

After measuring beer for the cheddar bread, I used the rest of the can to also marinate boneless, skinless chicken thighs in beer, honey, chopped onions, crushed garlic, salt, black pepper, paprika, cayenne, cumin and red pepper flakes.                          

Per Sam the Cooking guy, I also reserved marinade for after the chicken was cooked and then grated cheddar cheese to bake the bread. Cooking over charcoal is always an opportunity to cook summer squash from our vegetable garden. Hubs wanted me to use up the rest of this ginormous zucchini.

But I'm gonna use it instead for a sauté to eat with chili tonight (to go with the beer and cheddar bread) or in a gratin with some spinach (might go with that Jacques Pepin dish instead). Hubs declared the chicken pretty darn tasty.

What's great about dark meat is that it's less likely to dry out on a grill. But I had still some of that marinade even after dunking the cooked chicken in it and then putting the meat into the oven to stay warm. I still had yet to finish grilling my squash, and so poured the rest of the marinade on the vegetables and prayed that the liquid wouldn't drench my coals and stop the cooking. But I'm actually pleased with how caramelized they turned out.

And for a quick bread, not too darn bad.

After dinner, I made sweet tea and put it in the fridge to chill and put pinto beans in a pot of water to soak overnight. Friday night supper is decided.

Clay: Antiquing (OR NOT) as Surface Decoration

Glazing ceramics has been one of my frustrations as a potter. I've ruined some immensely satisfying hand builds with glazing that wasn't thoughtfully planned or with sloppiness. And so along with my resolution to take more time with my hand building, I've also vowed to take my time with glazing. I've a pile of bisque, and so I'm going to consider my technique for the surface decoration of each one. On some of my pots, I etched text into the clay, which invariably highlights spots where I didn't burnish or smooth the surface enough and kind of mars the design. Enter the magic eraser. 

I just saw this post on the Ceramic Arts Network of an artist who uses the magic eraser. Genius. I must remember this tool. And there are even more ideas for decorating my bisque that were linked to the post, and yeah I'm gonna go down that rabbit hole.