Happy New Year!

A mezze platter to take to our friends' house tonight. Hummus, olives and crudités with homemade baked pita chips. And raw dolmades, with grape leaves I canned from our vines this summer, and a diced parsnip (instead of rice), pine nut, red pepper, avocado, lemon juice and tomato filling.

I have been reading so many "good riddance 2011" articles, about what a terrible year it has been. I work at our parish food bank, and that is where you see it. The people working two and three jobs who still can't feed their families, the hard workers who are skilled and experienced in struggling industries, who used to make a great living, but just can't find work any more. My family has so many more pressures and barely-squeaking-by times than we ever used to have. We are skating very close to the margins every month. But it still bothers me to ring out the old year with contempt. It was a good year! We had so much fun. Right in the middle of it, R turned from a shy sweet funny seven year old to a shy even sweeter and funnier eight year old.

So from a very selfish perspective, I have loved this year. The garden and D and Charlie and R, a child who is busting out all over with so much new information and excitement about life that she talks out loud in her sleep. Last night she was reading Roald Dahl's Matilda under the covers with a flashlight, and she got to the part that lists the books that four year old Matilda reads. It is such a great list that I will have to put it here:

• Great Expectations
• Nicholas Nickleby
• Oliver Twist
• Jane Eyre
• Pride and Prejudice
• Tess of D'Urbervilles
• Gone to Earth
• Kim
• The Invisible Man
• The Old Man and the Sea
• The Sound and the Fury
• The Grapes of Wrath
• The Good Companions
• Brighton Rock
• Animal Farm

And with each new title R would shout out to me, muffled from under her blankets, "What is that one about? Who wrote it?" and when I explained the authors and plots of the ones I knew (all of them but Gone to Earth? The Good Companions? Brighton Rock?), she would yell out, "Could you get that for me to read?" And she knows I will, I'll add it to her giant and growing bookshelf downstairs.

You could say that it has been a pretty universally awful year for--for, I don't know what to call it. For what I think is important in culture, social justice, general quality of life for humans. For some modicum of moral responsibility that would check or temper greed, or lacking that, legal restraints imposed by a wise and ethical and considered body. A friend made me laugh last month when she blurted out "There's one for our side!" about something in the news. That's why I love this Tennyson poem so much. Let the bad of the old year die. There was tiredness and falseness in it, but "ring out wild bells, and let him die."  There was so much goodness too. Call out the bad things and work to fix them. But ring out the wild bells, against the snow!

In Memoriam, [Ring out, wild bells]
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
   Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
   The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true . . . 

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
   The faithless coldness of the times;
   Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
   The civic slander and the spite;
   Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good . . .

Ring in the valiant man and free,
   The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
   Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Olive Bento

Black olives; apple slices; turkey pepperoni and cheddar; homemade tomato quinoa bread; green salad with tomatoes, radishes and celery; granola bar in the center.

Balmy November

Warm enough for shirtsleeves today as the sun is going down.


R appreciates Charlie's hard work on his bone.

Grissini

Grissini, thick and thin and all ready for Thanksgiving. Whole wheat glazed with butter and honey; whole grain herb and garlic; seeded sourdough. 

Hibiscus Bento

Carrots and a radish rose; lemon hibiscus apples that I canned on Saturday, with oranges; organic granola bar and almonds; cheddar and whole grain crackers on spinach salad; and cherry-flavored dried cranberries in the center.
 
I canned a lot of apples this weekend. My generous neighbor Becky always gives us the apples from her unsprayed tree in October, but this year they were all black at the center (codling moth?), so we only got a couple of jars of pie filling out of them. I finally broke down and used store-bought apples, because we love opening jars of spiced apples and applesauce all year long. I made spiced apples for pie filling, and tried something new with dried hibiscus blossoms. Hibiscus blossoms are high in vitamin C and anti-oxidants, and they have a lot of heart-healthy compounds. They give the apples a fresh, citrusy taste that is complemented by fresh lemons. I infused green tea in the syrup, but the flavor didn't come through. The blossoms turn the apples a beautiful natural rosy color. I sweetened the apples lightly with agave.
 
R really likes these, and the jars look so pretty lined up on a shelf with the sun shining through. The dried blossoms make a nice tea too, either added to black or green tea, or by themselves with honey and lemon.

Lemon Raspberry Birthday Cake

My lovely cousin Lara had a birthday yesterday, and I made her a lemon cake with raspberry syrup and lemon curd in between the layers, frosted with lemon buttercream. Sometimes short, two-layer cakes are nice. I used lemon extract, fresh lemon juice and lemon zest, so it was really zing-y and lemony. I kept the raspberry syrup on the tart side too.


I made a mini-cake with the leftover batter for D & R. I frosted it with whipped cream (that I whipped a little too long, it almost turned into butter). They loved it, but they were sad it wasn't bigger.

Rustic Ciabatta

Cooler weather makes me want to start baking bread again, keeping a starter and experimenting. I have been reading this book by Jim Lahey, the originator of the no-knead bread method that was popularized by Mark Bittman in the New York Times. I have been playing around with it, using a sourdough starter and then following the book's instructions for proofing and baking. Pre-heating a dutch oven and then baking the dough in the hot pan is one secret to the brick-oven like crust and fantastic oven rise. Today I made a dough so wet that it had to be poured into the heated pan. I was hoping for a very free-form flat ciabatta, with a big open crumb and blistered crust. The dough is mostly white bread flour, with some rye and whole wheat flours, wheat germ and flax meal added.

It made such a beautiful, messy rustic loaf. 

I dusted the top with kosher salt before baking, and it developed a shattering, crisp crust almost like a handmade pretzel.

The crumb could have been more open, but the flecks of flax and wheat germ, and the grey cast of the rye flour, make it interesting. This differed from the no-knead method in that I used a sourdough starter, and proofed it for only six hours instead of the 18-24 the book recommends. I have half of this dough on a slow rise in the refrigerator. I'll bake that off tomorrow and see what the difference is. In the meantime, a fantastic loaf for sandwiches or just eating plain. D loves it.