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."

Tasty Morsel

So, you probably want a juicy update, don't you? I'm inclined to blather about our stunning Sunday hike near Snoqualmie Pass, but I'll give you a few scraps to chew on rather than wax poetic about a yellow maple.
































I started a part-time internship at the Seattle Art Museum today. I'm working in the development department, spearheading a fun, new corporate membership project. I should mention that this new internship complements my part-time work at the University of Washington and my other part-time work at a charming restaurant in Ballard. For those of you who aren't great with numbers, three part-time jobs = a lot of work.

When I walked into the museum this afternoon, it smelled of peanut butter sandwiches and wet tennies. I rounded the corner to find a herd of fourth-graders, lounging on the steps and feeding from rumpled brown bags. It sounds odd, I know, but I envied those students and their squishy sandwiches!

I made my way up to the 5th floor and met Jeanine, my supervisor. She showed me to my glamorous cubicle. It's quite nice, actually, save the enormous computer monitor that makes my eyes jitter and twitch. Once I got settled, Jeanine took me on a grand tour and introduced me to the whole cast of characters, the people who make the Seattle Art Museum tick. It's good to be there and I'm happy to be connecting another group of interesting Seattleites.

That's your morsel for this week. Almost as tasty as PB&J from a sack lunch you didn't have to pack. I know.

Close of October

It's nearly the close of October and fall just keeps on coming. The trees are blazing with color; everything underfoot goes "crunch, crunch."













Peter and I spent the weekend close to home. Our free hours were filled by long walks around the neighborhood, making a few prints from collected leaves, weeding the small strip of garden next to our patio, potting some evergreens and chatting with neighbors.













Linda (aforementioned neighbor and Open Mic organizer) has a friendly exchange going with us. After she lent us her stock pot for our tomato endeavor, we returned it with a jar of sauce and a note of thanks. A few days later we found a squatty silver pot and a note on our door step: "Thought this would help with your cooking addiction. Lids are 99 cents at Goodwill." Yesterday afternoon, she brought over a little boxwood, some grasses, and a spidery climber from her backyard.

Clearly, now it's our turn to reciprocate with a neighborly favor. Perhaps, dear reader, you have a good suggestion. Toss out an idea and I'll keep you posted on this budding relationship.

Fall Visitor

I'm back. While Seattle saw rain, this blog saw a serious drought. The reason for my distraction? We had a visitor! My sister, Ann, was here for two fabulous weeks. If you ever find yourself in the Pacific Northwest with a dear sister (or brother, mother, father, or friend), I highly recommend the following agenda:

1. Cut yourselves some slack. Sleep in.

2. Take lots of hikes. Collect leaves of elephant proportions, as well as other interesting specimen you may find along the way (moss, lichen, branches from a monkey-tail tree).















3. Go for a run in the rain along Salmon Bay - you'll feel like a true Seattleite once you're drenched.

4. Head to Pike Place Market and buy the freshest, best-looking salmon and veggies you can get your hands on.













5. Find a happy hour location that boasts good micro brews and live coverage of the vice presidential debates.



















6. Take a ferry to Bainbridge Island. Wander through town to find the Harbour Public House. Get out of the rain, cozy up under the outdoor umbrella and order yourself a tasty beer and some fish and chips.





























7. Drive north along the Chuckanut Trail toward Bellingham. Along the way, enjoy the craggy coastline and stunning views. Pull over at the Oyster Bar for a delicious lunch and the best Puget Sound views in the state. May I suggest that you a) look fancy or b) bring a dramatic scarf to divert the other diners' attention away from your hiking boots and dirty pants? It'll make everyone more comfortable. Trust me.















8. Pick fresh apples at one of the many orchards near Samish Bay. When you get home, throw a crisp in the oven. Nothing nudges you into fall more gently than the smell of cinnamon and apples bubbling in the oven.

9. Stay up late, dream good dreams, and, with a little reluctance, send your lovely visitor home.