One of my favorite things about living in Alaska was the blueberries. Blueberry picking was like a liturgy for our family- every single year anticipating the trips to our favorite high places -secret berry patches I found in the hills as I scavenged the highways or begged favor from friends- worshiping God’s breathtaking handiwork as we picked, transported to a plane of peace and delight, never wanting to leave. During the few weeks of blueberry season we spent as many evenings and weekends possible picking berries before they were gone- usually in the company of good friends- or just soaking in some peace and quiet. It was an annual revival of the soul that helped me survive the winters. The only thing better than a bursting blueberry patch was catching a salmon run. I’m getting homesick just thinking about it!
Grandma’s Blueberry Torte
This dessert is full of nostalgia for me. I was hooked the first time my new grandma, Josie, made this torte. At eight years old, I was and enchanted by her quiet, sweet ways ( not yet old enough to appreciate her wealth of wisdom.) When I married, she arrived a week ahead of time and quietly served- cooking, cleaning and doing dozens of other little jobs I wasn’t even aware of. We enjoyed some time in the kitchen as she coached me through four pans of blueberry and cherry tortes for the rehearsal dinner ( I baked bread and dessert- she did everything else.) She traveled up to Alaska and visited while I was pregnant with our first baby, disposing a little bit more of her vast knowledge of herbal remedies, gardening and natural medicine. I was just becoming interesting at this point, but sadly I didn’t get anymore grandma time- she passed away far too soon. I’ve missed her over the years and often yearn to enjoy another delightful and informative chat with grandma. After her death I was somewhat consoled by the introduction of Google- it wasn’t near as comforting as calling up grandma Josie, but at least someone could answer my questions!
Refining Fire
Last month, my closet pyromaniac husband gleefully eliminated a long standing task on our farm to-do list: burn the brush piles. These weren’t your average “let’s have a bonfire” brush piles; the previous owner stock piled wood and brush from job sites over a period of years, building the larger one to over eight feet tall and forty feet in diameter. I was determined to somehow recycle the material as desperately needed organic matter in the garden and orchard, but we couldn’t find any viable options. Chippers are expensive to buy or rent, and the time required was out of the question. Most of the larger pieces were rotten and no use for our wood stove. The only bio char set up I knew would have been as equally time intensive (since then I learned how to burn a brush pile in certain ways to glean bio-char and we will be doing this with the remaining piles ) Mr. Pyro patiently waited for me to give in to the burn option.
Spaghetti Pie
I promised you a fun and easy recipe for leftover spaghetti sauce . Of course, you are free to use a jar of sauce as well (a little doctoring goes a long ways here- fry up some sausage or burger, garlic, onions and peppers…) I usually double the recipe and bake it in a 9×13 pyrex pan.
Christmas Eve Spaghetti
Most of my childhood, this was our Christmas eve dinner. I continued the tradition, many years bundling five excited children and a crock pot of spaghetti sauce for a long, cold car ride to our best friend’s home on Haystack mountain. Each year the children acted out the Christmas story as the eldest, Kristen, created last minute costumes and organized the chaos. The nativities began with one toddler and two babies between us, and now there are eight wonderful adults/teenagers. We live thousands of miles apart now and the children are scattering all over the country, but this thick and spicy spaghetti sauce brings us back together, if only in our hearts and bellies.
Indian Fry Bread
After a crazy day at work and then torturing myself with grocery/christmas shopping on the way home, I used my last fifteen minutes of stamina to make dinner. For real- it was fifteen minutes start to finish and then I immediately donned my fluffy pajama pants (wish I could live in them) and collapsed into bed to watched an episode of The Crown while slurping tea (like a good American) and munching Christmas chocolates (sorry sister- I opened your package early!) This is my idea of a perfect Friday night. I’m officially old.
Anyways, point of this story is that Indian tacos are not only delish – they are quick and easy which means you can put your pajamas on earlier! Yay!
What is God’s Will?
Recently a young woman whom I greatly respect wrote to me in frustration saying, “I would love to respond in obedience to God’s call on my life- if only I had any idea what the heck it was!” I understand her angst, as I also spent too many years struggling with this sidetrack. Don’t misunderstand me- I believe the will of God is of utmost importance, but many times religion has muddied the matter beyond recognition and left many of us wallowing in despair and confusion, missing the simple and powerful truth in front of us. Religion taught me (directly and indirectly) that God’s will involved behavior above the heart and location above presence.
Peppermint Meltaways
Scott and I grew up with mothers who were equally crazy about Christmas. Sometime during adolescence my siblings and I made a rule that Mom couldn’t start blasting christmas music before Sept 1 (this was the best we could do.) They would start stashing presents during the after Christmas sales and sometime in June the countdown would start all over again. A crucial aspect of the holiday for both of our families was a long list of traditional Christmas cookies, many of the recipes written down by German and Swedish grandmothers and great grandmothers. My mother in law passed away just a few years after we married, and most of my fond memories with her were around Christmas baking. I wanted to keep Karen’s memory alive by baking her favorites each year (see Swedish Cardamom Coffee Cake) and of course I had long list from my side of the family. Pepperkokker, snickerdoodles, scottish shortbread, brown pfeffernuesse, white pfeffernuesse, cream cheese cookies, peppermint melt aways, Weiser lebkuchen, candy cane cookies, biscotti, sandbakelser- for years I made them all, one batch each night the first couple weeks of December. Since leaving Alaska we have simplified the holiday; I take a survey and pick the top three (someone please convince Scott that chocolate chips cookies are not a Christmas specialty!) and peppermint meltaways are always included. They are similar to melt in your mouth shortbread, but even more simple to make. We suffered through eating a double batch of these last week so y’all could have a picture to go with the recipe. You are welcome.
Aunt Linda’s Sweet Potato Casserole
My sweet auntie shared this recipe twenty four years ago and we’ve indulged several times a year ever since. She lives in North Carolina so it’s a bonafide southern dish, but I have to admit that I “northerned” it up a bit by cutting out quite a bit of butter and sugar (there is still plenty left- trust me!) Last week over lunch I shared with my co-workers my dismay at how much butter and sugar southerners put in sweet potato casserole – I watched as shock and confusion flashed through their faces before they fell off their chairs laughing at me. I may not recover from this one…..
Haley’s Mom’s Peanut Brittle
FIVE batches of peanut brittle were required for the posting of this recipe- that would be due to the fact it kept getting nibbled up before I could reach for the camera! I had hoped to make this year’s peanut brittle with the peanuts I grew in the garden, but a little bunny came and munched most of the plants; then the chickens scratched up and gobbled the few peanuts that managed to survive Peter Rabbit. Oh well. Next year!