The (lost) Art of Walking

In the main stacks of UC Berkeley library there's a wall where the librarians display the covers of new books. I was struck quite strongly (actually almost insulted) by one: "The Lost Art of Walking"... mainly because, to me, the art of walking is not lost. On the contrary, it's more alive than ever.

I don't think I understood the art of walking until college- or really until Irine introduced me to its capacity to change lives.

My high school experience resembled a tightly regimented cycle, with music, school, and track practice each occupying a space of time as I ticked through the day. Then college life brought the unexpected- free time. Yet along with the free time came so many new challenges that didn't exist in my routine high school life. I needed some way to cope, some way to let off steam, or at least some way to let the thoughts and worries that collected in my head evaporate into the fresh air.

I don't know when it happened exactly, but on a chilly day my first roommate and now one of my very best friends was also the first person that I really WENT for a walk with. And for no reason other than to escape a dorm room and talk about life. Aside from one particular 1 mile track race, I never felt more alive, with the cold air entering my lungs and my senses so awake.

But it really wasn't just the walking. It was the company.

Irine is the kind of person that makes you want to actually go out and accomplish the things that you only dream about during the drollness of the day. She's also that person that knows how to give just the right advice at the right time... making you know that in the end, everything's going to be fine. Combined with some epic walks, these qualities were enough to inspire me to try so many new experiences throughout the last three years and not be afraid to express myself. I'm so grateful for such a profoundly life-changing friendship.

Our conversations took unpredictable paths as we made our way along tree-lined streets and the more urban landscapes of the city. I remember talking about tough things, really superfluous but refreshing things, and all of those grandiose academic things that we studied on the side. We constructed grand edifices with our words, and knocked them down with hearty laughter. It got to the point where all I wanted to do at the end of the day was go for a walk.

Ann Arbor's got a few really lovely spots for food. One of them happens to be the famous Zingerman's deli, which also has an amazing bakery. Once a week we'd walk out to Zingerman's and get a latte (Irine), hot chocolate (me), and bran muffins. Then we'd amble back to campus for our joke of a macroeconomics course, laughing along the way.

I truly miss those walks, and those muffins. So for quite some time now I've been working on various bran muffin recipes. If you ask my poor roommate James, he's had to try about three or four varieties of bran bread in the last two weeks alone (because I don't have a muffin tin, I've used these baking pans to make "bran bread")... but I've come up with something comforting nonetheless. The base of the recipe comes from none other than Heidi Swanson of 101 cookbooks. She does such a good job of making creative recipes with whole grains and fresh produce that taste superb. I substituted some oat bran, flavored yogurt, and other add-ins to the mixture.

Bran Bread
adapted from 101 Cookbooks

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups oat bran
1/2 cup wheat bran
3/4 tsp. salt
1 1/4 tsp. baking soda
3-4 tbs. raw cane sugar
2 cups vanilla yogurt... (see note below!)
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 tbs canola oil or melted butter
1/2 tsp vanilla extract (*optional)
3/4 tsp. cinnamon (again, *optional)
1/2 cup walnuts
1/2 cup golden raisins
*If you're really cool, you'll sprinkle sunflower seeds on top.

Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit

Measure out the flour, brans, sugar, salt, baking soda, cinnamon, walnuts and raisins into one bowl. Then mix the wet ingredients (yogurt, honey, egg, oil, etc.) in another, larger bowl. Fold the dry ingredients into the wet and mix... but not too much. You'll find that the batter is clumpy and even a bit dry-looking. That's ok!

Pour batter in a large baking pan (or individual muffin tins... maybe 1/3-1/2 of the way down) and bake until a fork inserted in the bread comes out clean. She says 10-15 minutes, but I remember mine taking about 30 or so. Then again, I'm making bread and she made muffins.

* On the yogurt. I've had my best results with non-fat vanilla from Brown Cow. Now I recognize that that brand is local, so I'd just recommend finding a good, thicker yogurt to use (non-fat to high fat is fine) without high fructose corn syrup or any of those synthetic sweeteners! If you want to use plain then go ahead, but just add 1/2 cup honey to the wet ingredients.

Serve with honey, butter, peanut butter, or jam. The bread is best when heated!

Enjoy!

Cooking as Catharsis

I hate to be a bit of a downer, but if there's anything I've noticed in the clutters of my last three years at college, it's that there is no place lonelier than a college campus.

True, the immaculate buildings and paved pathways are full of life- students making their way to their upcoming classes, groups of professors engaged in deep conversation, jabbering activists at club tables, coffee-sipping wanderers, and non-university affiliated people, who, depending on what they want from life, are on campus to ask for money, spread some religious speak, or walk their dogs.

That's a lot of action, no doubt. Yet, to me, it seems, if you look behind the surface, you'll find that everyone is just lost in the process of going somewhere. Whether it's a career, a political goal, or a new scientific discovery, each person seems to have an end and is consequently on campus to pursue it. For a hopeless idealist like myself- you know, that person that likes to point out the yellow ladybug on the plant in front of the library where everyone's smoking, or recite a poem, or tell you that she has no clue what to do with her life- it's not so great.

It is nice, however, when I run into someone I know. My heart, which has sunken into my chest upon seeing so many despondent faces on the way to class, leaps up and comes to life. I feel, once again, alive as a deluge of happiness warms my body and I skip to my next class.

When that doesn't happen, I get some pretty crazy ideas.... and by the time I get home my head is spinning and I need some kind of release. Luckily, there's a kitchen for that.

So let me just say, that after a hectic and depressing day on such a lonely cement microcosm, I made an incredible discovery in the kitchen: roasted poblano peppers. Oh man.
I was making a bean dish called "drunken beans," which was fine and dandy, but I swear, the best part of the entire process, the part that made me forget all of my troubles, was what the recipe considered a "topping"- those darned roasted peppers.

Think of it- you start with these shiny green poblano peppers. You then wash and dry them, place them on a baking sheet, and throw the arrangement into an oven burning at 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Then, after a little bit of TLC, you pull them out of the oven and observe their charred skin bursting with flavor and heat. After letting them cool, you peel off the skin to reveal the smooth, flavor-packed pepper itself, which, if you're me, you pull apart with your hands, place on a warm flour tortilla and devour, noticing that your worries and whims have sweated out of you and collected into a puddle on the floor. Then, again, if you're me, your lips will be on fire and you'll need to grab a glass of milk or water. heh.

So, I'm going to stop ranting and give you the beans recipe- which is also delicious. You know what to do with those peppers, whether you put them on the beans or not. I think my next project is chile rellenos. I can't wait.

Drunken Beans with Roasted Poblano Chiles
adapted from Rancho Gordo's suggested recipes
I used heirloom beans, which are great in terms of texture... and they come in really neat colors! See if you can get your hands on them!

1-1.5 cups dried beans (your choice on the amount/type... soaked overnight (see below))
3 pieces of bacon or, what I used: 1 piece of pancetta bacon thickness (your butcher will know what you're talking about!)
1 yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
a handful of mushrooms, diced
1 bottle of Mexican beer (you'll end up using a little over half of it)
3 poblano chiles (sigh)

Rinse the beans and place in a pot, covering them with an inch of water. You'll want to soak them overnight.

On the eve of the cooking day, preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Cut up your pancetta or bacon in small pieces and throw it in a medium or large pot. Cook at a medium-high heat until the meat is dark and crisp and the fat is rendered (cooked down to a liquid). Add the chopped onions and garlic- if there's not enough liquid in the pan then feel free to add some oil. Then add the mushrooms and stir a bit. At this point I'd add some salt and pepper, then pour the beans with their soaking water into the pot. Bring the mixture to a boil and then simmer at low heat. You'll also want to salt your beans at this time.

While this happens wash the peppers, dry them, and place them on a baking sheet. Then put that sheet in the oven. You'll want to check on them every 10 minutes or so and flip them to make sure that the sides cook evenly. The time to take them out will be when it looks as if the skin of the peppers is evenly charred on all sides (see picture). Take them out of the oven, let them cool, and then proceed to peel the skin away, take out the seeds, and chop the peppers up into bite-size pieces. Set aside in a bowl.

So at this point, you'll want to add your beer to the beans, which will have cooked away a lot of liquid. The amount you add is up to you. I poured the whole bottle in there, which is a step I might revise next time. I'd start with half a bottle and see how you like the way things are cooking. You'll know the beans are done when their texture is smooth and creamy- not starchy. Then you've got it!

Serve the beans with the poblano chiles on top, a squeeze of lime, and warm corn tortillas on the side.

Buen provecho!

On Almost-Autumn Days and Soup

It's the perfect kind of overcast day. The kind that causes me to mentally check out- leaving my books behind on the table while I stare out the window with the utmost sensation of comfort and warmth within.

I'd like to imagine that these are the days that inspire poetry, reminiscences of autumns past, home-grown football games in damp, grassy yards, and impromptu soirees around steaming cups of tea.

And when the rain sleeks the glossy surface of my window, I know that the draining heat-filled summer days have come at least to a temporary halt... and that's a relief.

If I wasn't sick with what may or may not be swine flu, I think I'd take advantage of this weather to bounce around outside, and then maybe draw a tree or take a picture of a peculiar front door that I find :) but as I've been stuck here, with an overwhelmingly large pot of chicken soup that I somewhat ruined by plunking a Reggiano rind in the mess, I have needed to do something to keep my mind away from simple linear regressions (econometrics homework).

So I'm going to give you another recipe for chicken soup- sans le fromage

Chicken Soup for the Ill and Healthy
adapted from this recipe by Orangette
This feeds so many you won't know what to do with it. I'd actually recommend freezing some. Anyway, I think it's important to have a recipe for chicken soup handy for those times when you do fall victim to microbial beasts.

3 bone-in chicken breasts (or you can mix it up with thighs as well)
1 bunch of thyme
2 leeks, chopped into small pieces- don't be afraid to use the green parts
3 medium sized carrots, chopped into bite-sized pieces
3-4 stalks celery, chopped into bite-sized pieces
3 cloves garlic, diced
2 boxes of low sodium chicken stock (around two quarts... but a little less will do)
1 cup either tiny pasta or rice (I used wild rice)
1 bunch parsley
2-3 cups spinach
Ground black pepper or whole peppercorns
Salt

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Wash the chicken breasts and toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, and as much thyme as you'd like... make sure you rub the spices into the skin. Then place in an oven-safe dish and cook for about 30 minutes (you'll want it to be cooked through with golden skin... according to the original recipe). Set aside after taking them out of the oven

In a large stock-pot saute the leeks in some oil until they're translucent. Add the garlic, carrots, rice, and celery and saute for a few more minutes. Then add some springs of thyme, salt, and black pepper.. feel free to add any more spices that you see fit. Finally, add the whole chicken breasts and then the stock. You'll want to bring the whole mixture to a boil and then simmer, for maybe 30 minutes or so... until the vegetables are tender. During the cooking process, add as much chopped parsley and spinach as you'd like. When everything looks like it's cooked the way you'd like, then take those chicken breasts out and shred the meat from the bones, adding it to the soup.

I'd serve it with a squeeze or two of lemon and some fresh parsley on top.

Enjoy!

Spices

I can say that I now live with a spice purist.... and I think I might be a convert.

I used to be one of those people that ambled down to my local grocery store and picked up the generically packaged (or scooped from the bulk-size bucket of) ground spices. I'd store those little glossy jars in a cupboard and pluck them accordingly for my cooking needs, sprinkling the various powders in pots of bubbling curries and stews.

Woah. Wrong picture. Well, right picture, but not in this apartment! Those jars are now filled to the brim with whole spices... and an old coffee grinder camps out on the table nearby, ready to grind any spices that come its way. I promise, it's a good thing. You won't believe the difference in flavor.

I guess my point here is that grinding your own spices isn't just an exercise for the bold and daring. It's actually pretty common in traditional cultural cuisine. And the real kicker is that it's not expensive at all. I mean, they're the same spices, just not ground up and ready to go. You can even grind a decent amount and store it in those cute little jars :)

So just in case you have an old grinder, and feel like being a tad adventurous, here's a recipe for Garam Masala... taken from this random website. The result was great- I'd make a curry right away if I were you!

Garam Masala
You'll need a grinder of sorts- I'm sure that a Cuisinart would work fine... but we used an old coffee grinder

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons cumin seeds
2 tablespoons coriander seeds
2 tablespoons cardamom seeds
2 tablespoons black peppercorns
1 (3-inch) stick cinnamon, broken up
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1 teaspoon grated nutmeg (yeah... grate it yourself :))

Instructions:

Put all ingredients except the nutmeg in a skillet over medium-high heat and toast the spices for about 10 minutes- you'll want them to be a darker shade and to be emitting wonderful aromas! Then set aside to cool. When they're pretty cool, transfer them to a coffee grinder or Cuisinart and grind away. Then add the grated nutmeg and mix. After that, you can store the mixture in an airtight container for 3 months. This recipe yields 1/2 cup according to the site, but I'm convinced that we got more out of it.

Enjoy!