"M" is For...

Today's Sunday phone call home was especially sweet. Mom and I each sat outside enjoying spring, she in a breezy porch in Northfield , and I on a sunny patio in Seattle.

She reminded me of a fun tradition in elementary school, where thoughtful teachers organize a craft to surprise their students' moms for Mother's Day. I suppose most teachers know how much a homespun gift means to a parent. Just think about your basement or attic for a minute. Surely the things that remain include that clumsy acrostic poem from 3rd grade, the tinsel Christmas ornament (made on the top of a peanut butter jar), and a faded "Thumb-Bunny Loves You" finger print card.

Mom, on this our 28th Mother's Day as mama and daughter, here's a little poem for you. Clumsy? A little – but what acrostic isn't? I guess you'll have to print it and add it to the box downstairs.

"M" is for the mountains of love you show me,
"O" is for your "eau" - perfume of gold,
"T" is for the terrific songs you sang me,
"H" is for your hugs, which never grow old;
"E" for your exuberance, which leaves me pining,
"R" means right, and right you'll always be,
Put them all together, they spell "MOTHER,"
A word that means the world to me.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you.

Oh, and here's the link to the veggie burger concept we tried last night. Give them plenty of time to cool in the fridge and they'll firm up. You and Daddy will love them.

February, I love you.

28 days just isn't quite long enough for me and the lovely month of February. Somehow, she slipped by and I didn't make a single mention of my affection.
















I love how the days creep forward, gathering daylight, and how the gray skies, gray clouds and gray sidewalks get a pinch in the cheek from the all the red and pink for Heart Day. And here in the Northwest, I love that spring (yes, spring!) begins to make its first move.

During the month of February, I was astounded to see vibrant green shoots of galanthus (those nodding white snowdrops), daffodils, tulips pop up. Over this past weekend, all those brave bulbs made flowers.

But, can I step back for just a moment to make mention of February 14? Peter and I went to Cannon Beach, Oregon for an amazing weekend trip. What made our stay so strikingly unique were our accommodations (was our accommodations? Mom, help, grammar troubles). In a wind-blown 1920s corner store and inn, with an undeniably shabby exterior, a man named Hank runs an incredible business. His inn, a nine room guest house, is a hold-out from a different era. And Hank is a remarkable host! He's a James Beard recipe award-winner (bread, I believe), was the lead rose gardener in Portland (the City of Roses, no less) before retiring and purchasing the Wave Crest several years ago. He first discovered it as a guest in the 1970s, and he became friends with the elderly owners. Before he knew it, he was spending nearly every weekend in Cannon Beach.
















Hank, and this view out our window, made me want to follow in his shoes... making the trek to the coast each weekend. At the very least, I hope we'll visit him again. I note the following for myself, as much as for you, dear reader: for our next stay, we'll rent one of the rooms with a private bathroom, not just the shared one down the hall. And I won't bring my own reading material, because Hank has the most wonderfully plump bookshelves and loves to share.

Here's a little video from the beach. That giant rock is called Haystack Rock.

Bouncy Biscuit Islands

What a weekend!













Sunday came with sunshine and mild temps. Feeling emboldened by the shift in weather, we ventured a little farther from home, heading north toward Fildalgo and Whidbey Islands for a picnic and hike. "Deception Pass" is one of many spots in the region that retains the name assigned by Captain George Vancouver when he explored the Strait of Juan de Fuca in 1792. Aparently, he was fooled by the swift outward current, thinking he had discovered a major eastward passage. Feeling deceived when he discovered otherwise, he scrawled its name on his map and it's stuck ever since.

Deception Pass is an awfully disgruntled name for such a breathtaking area. None of the history gets at the incredible place we found. A pristine state park runs along the coast and sandbars link mounded islands with the main land. Because this area is in the rain shadow of the Olympics, it was noticeably drier than the soggy, green forests and fields we've gotten used to. Best of all, the sun was steady and determined. We perched on top of each bald island, just to absorb the heat from the sun.













When we got home, we made a cozy dinner. I have to show you a picture of our dinner, because the quirkiest thing happened.













The biscuits atop our pot pies bore a strange, but very striking resemblance to the domed islands that popped unexpectedly out of the Sound near Deception Pass. Bouncy little things just bobbing on the surface!

























How often can you say there was a dominant sculptural form in both your landscape and your dinner? I might have to make a goal of that more often, just for the sheer satisfaction in it.

In the Arb

It's been raining in Washington. A lot. We were lucky to have weekend that was merely damp, which gave us the chance to get outside for a walk today. We explored the UW Arboretum near Lake Union. Our favorite part was the "Winter Garden", which showcases the shrubs and trees that look and smell more interesting than their summer-oriented friends.













As we entered the Winter Garden, we were nearly knocked out by a perfume that smelled of jasmine or magnolia... or some tender sweetheart we assumed wouldn't dare send out blossoms during this cold, dark season. The tender yellow petals of the Witch Hazel flowers dripped with moisture. And curled inward toward the branch, a trick this tree has for keeping its precious flowers warm even on cold days. We also learned that the horticultural name, Hamamelis virginiana, means "together with fruit": the tree's fruit, flowers, and next year's leaf buds all appear simultaneously on the branch.

Snow

The most amazing thing happened last night. It snowed. While we were reveling with friends inside, two inches of snow fell silently outside. After our guests left, Peter and I went out for a midnight walk. I'm quite certain Ballard has never looked so enchanting*.













On a chilly night when it's snowing outside, nothing beats Jambalaya. I heard Seattle is expecting more snow on Wednesday... and I know Minnesota already has plenty. So go get your groceries now. When the snow comes again, you can stay in with a spicy, steaming bowlful.

Jambalaya

3/4 lb smoked andouille sausage, sliced into rounds
1 red pepper, diced
1 green pepper, diced
2 celery stalks, chopped
4 scallions, sliced
3/4 cup coarsely chopped parsley
3 cloves garlic
2 Tbsp fresh thyme
1 1/2 cups rice
1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into chunks
1 28 oz can diced tomatoes
2 cups chicken broth
3 bay leaves
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1 lb medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 Tbsp lemon juice

Saute the sausage in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat until browned. Remove the sausage and set aside. Add the bell peppers to the Dutch oven and saute for 2 minutes. Add the celery, scallions, parsley, garlic, and thyme, stirring well. Cook 3 minutes, then add rice, still stirring. Add the chicken, combining well. Reduce heat to low and cook 5 minutes. Stir in the sausage, tomatoes, broth, bay leaves, salt, pepper, and cayenne. Cover and cook for 20 minutes, or until the rice is done. Try to resist the temptation to lift the cover to smell your simmering stew. Once the rice is cooked, stir in the shrimp and lemon juice and cook until the shrimp have just turned pink and are done, about 3-5 minutes.

*Speaking of enchantment, it's worth taking note that Linda, our neighbor, has created a colorful holiday display in her front yard. Tinsel, blinking lights, sculpted shrubs. It's very, very festive.

Pile of Pancakes

If you're like I am, the days after Thanksgiving are filled with nibbles and left-overs. By Sunday, I'm usually ready for something that doesn't resemble turkey, yams, or cranberries.

And that's precisely why I became fixated on pancakes yesterday. I had gotten a taste of these last weekend when our friends, Matt and Elie, joined us for brunch. I pulled out a recipe I'd printed a year ago and stashed away: Mark Bittman's Whole-Grain Pancakes. For those of you who don't follow the Minimalist, I highly recommend his cheeky videos on nytimes.com; his recipes happen to be fabulous, too. This recipe yields a big batch of fluffy, moist cakes, despite the whole-wheat and buckwheat. The secret is in the eggs, which are separated... the whites are whipped into stiff peaks.



Sunday Morning Pancakes
(adapted from Mark Bittman's Whole-Grain Pancakes)

3 Tbsp butter (plus more for serving)
1 cup whole wheat flour
2/3 cup buckwheat
2 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp baking powder
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
2 large eggs, separated
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup milk

Melt 3 tablespoons butter. In a large bowl, combine flours, oats, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon and salt.

Beat egg whites until stiff peaks form (I prefer to let my electric mixer do this job.) Don't overbeat. In separate bowl, beat milk and buttermilk, yolks and melted butter until foamy - about a minute. Add milk mixture to flour mixture and give a couple of good stirs, but don't overmix. Fold in egg whites and stir until batter is just evenly colored and smooth; the lumps are okay.

Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add butter, heat just past white foaming stage, then add batter. Drop walnuts onto batter rounds. Cook until bubbles form and pop, about 1-2 minutes. Carefully flip and cook until well-colored. Keep them hot in the oven while you finish the rest of the batch.

Serve with a bowl full of colorful fresh fruit... or caramel-y sauteed apples, as we did yesterday. Please don't skimp on the maple syrup. And if you're feeling decadent, whip some cream and add a generous dallop to your steaming heap.

Full-Time Thanks

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I'm feeling the urge to give a little thanks.

I'm delighted to report that I accepted a wonderful job offer yesterday... at the Swedish Medical Center Foundation. In my new position, I'll be working on a variety of events that support one of Seattle's most well-respected and established medical centers. I'll be tied closely with the brand-new Center for Advanced Brain Tumor Treatment, and a fascinating pianist-turned-neurosurgeon named Dr. Greg Foltz.

I was pleased to hear from my dad (I wonder how many other Minnesotans read the Seattle news?) that there was a lengthy article about the new Brain Cancer Center in today's Seattle Times! Click here to view the article.

I'll look forward to sharing more details soon. But for now, I just have to say, "thank goodness."