Teaser

Mount Rainier. Snowshoeing pictures are coming soon.

A Bike Ride, a Snow-pocalypse and two Squash

A Bike Ride

We expected a cold and possibly rainy ride on Saturday morning, ride two of the Winter Training Series. What we got, however, was a frigid, slushy, sleety slog-fest. I am glad we finished and no one got seriously hurt, but if I had known the conditions we would be riding through, I probably wouldn’t have gotten out of bed in the morning: die another day.

The start of the ride was warm and dry to the point where I was cursing myself for dressing too warmly. My hands were downright hot in my ski gloves and liners; I unzipped my rain jacket so that it flapped behind me like the Wicked Witch of the West in Wizard of Oz.

Wizard of Oz

Finally, I decided to stop and shed my outer head covering. This marked the beginning of the end in terms of the pleasantness of the ride. As Ben and I waved the rest of the group on, we finished stripping and stowing gear. When we eventually rolled, we were a good five minutes behind the group – a doable chase, but we never saw them again. I popped my back tube yet again (third time in a week); this time the culprit was a shard of brown beer bottle. The complication that further delayed our roll was a rear wheel wobble. This happened a month ago and Ben used a wrench to tighten the cones and locknuts to fix the problem. Thankfully, Ben is one strong dude and was able to tighten the cones by hand so that I could finish the ride, but we did so on our own - two bikes in a sea of cars and…SNOW.  

That’s right, my friends, the weather turned and we found ourselves riding through freezing sleet. It was so cold that Ben’s mud flap acquired road sludge icicles! Right about this time, we lost the route and let me tell you, it is awfully disheartening to be riding through sleet and LOST. All you want is to be warm again and that probably won’t happen until you finish the ride and you can’t even make progress towards that because you have no idea where in the Sam Hill you are!

It was a dark day in bike land, but we persevered. Despite being completely unable to find even a single coffee shop in the little town of XXXX, we did eventually find I-5 and that was our ticket back on route. The sleet slacked and we cranked our way out into the picturesque countryside. My favorite memory from this section of the ride was when we got shot at…sort of. The rapport of a shot gun startled us and I spotted a duck wildly flapping an escape. Several more shots left the hunters skunked and the duck far away. Tee-hee-hee-hee. 

The weather didn’t hold for long, however, and we knew we were in for it when we started seeing cars approaching us with thick layers of snow blanketing their hoods. Additionally, the road turned hilly and zooming farm trucks occasionally splashed road sludge on us as they zipped past. This was when I began wanting to ask Ben, “Are we there yet? How much further?” I refrained and we slogged on. Soon we met a rider going in the opposite direction. “Are you with the Randonneurs?” he called. “Yep!” “Great. Can I follow you home? I am cold and confused.” He was a tough old man, but cold and confusion are a deadly combination. We gladly accepted his shadow and shepherded him home.

Finally, I broke down and had to ask how close we were getting, “10 miles.” That’s a manageable distance, I thought, but hot damn! Those last ten miles stretched on FOR-ever. They started with the steepest downhill section I have ever ridden on a bike, not to mention on sludgy roads, with numb fingers and wet brakes. It was treacherous. I skid out at one point when I mashed the brakes too hard and gravity refused to release my bike from its iron grip; I thought I was going down, but somehow recovered. My fingers were cramped into claw hands by the time the grade eased and I sighed a long stream of cloud as I unclipped at the next stoplight.

Ben navigated us back to the Burke-Gilman Trail and we knew it would be an easy four mile ride from there because we wouldn’t have to compete with traffic or traffic lights. Nevertheless, the cold was making us loopy. Numbness was creeping from the extremes of my extremities up my forearms and calves. My lips had lost some muscle control and my cheeks felt awfully funny. It was hard to focus on pedaling because I was so preoccupied with wiggling my toes and fingers and making faces to keep as much blood as I could flowing through my coldest bits. I’m sure the middle-aged couples out for an afternoon stroll thought we were mad: Ben was grunting on every pedal stroke and I was puffing my cheeks and roaring like a lion.

Getting to the car was supposed to mean we were safe and would soon be warm, but the opposite occurred. As soon as I dismounted I realized I didn’t bring an extra set of dry clothes and that’s when I started shivering. I didn’t think I could get colder than I was while riding, but I most certainly did. I didn’t bother removing my helmet or gloves while we quickly stowed the bikes and I stuffed large handfuls of trail mix into my gob hole. Our old man biker friend disappeared into his car with hardly a goodbye – it was too cold for pleasantries. We couldn’t figure out where the rest of our crew was: surely they beat us home. We had stopped multiple times and got lost. But just as we were heading into the bookshop to get warm, they rolled up. No one could figure out how we had beaten them home and we stood around in the cold trying to figure it out for some time before we realized that that wasn’t the best plan. (We were all a little too cold to think straight.)

Before I could head to the bookshop, I wanted to trade my clipless shoes for my other shoes (house slippers), but I a tough time. I had duct-taped clear-plastic vegetable bags from the grocery store around my socked feet in an attempt to form a wind and rain barrier and I couldn't seem to tear the tape. I can’t believe that I didn’t stab myself as I wildly wielded a pocketknife with numb claw-fingers. After freeing my only slightly damp feet, I followed the crowd to the bookstore. It was a long trudge, not by distance, but by time. My brickfeet kept slipping out of the slippers and refusing to step when I asked them to. My hair was drenched and dread-like tendrils were escaping my do-rag to asymmetrically and unflatteringly frame my wind-burned cheeks. My rain pants were both hiked up far past my bellybutton and cinched tight mid-calf, effectively giving me balloon pants that stopped above tall blue hiking socks and mud-splattered house slippers. I was a mess. Needless to say, some considerate patron held the door open for me as I boldly walked my dirty, tired bones into the warmth.

It was an adventure: 50 miles through sleet. I feel like I more than earned some sort of foul weather merit badge. You know, the one you always knew you never wanted. I’m glad we lived to tell the tale. I don’t even know how we could have aborted the ride midway through – we were alternately in the boondocks and towns far outside Seattle. How does one call a cab to a farm road? How do you stash two bikes in a cab? Will a cab take you from a farm town into the city? These all seemed insurmountable at the time, but if the roads had turned icy, I’m sure we would have surmounted them.

On the way home, the clouds broke and for the first time I felt angry when I saw the day  brighten into an astoundingly sunny, gorgeous afternoon – it seemed to negate the hellish ride we just dominated. Oh well.   

<<Improvements to Consider before Next Ride>> 

          1. Rig a way to reference my own cue sheet

          2. Patch and/or buy more tubes, possibly new tires 

          3. Diagnose cone/locknut issue and carry appropriate wrench 

          4. Stash food in a ride-accessible place 

          5. Bring a camera in the car 

          6. Remember dry clothes for after the ride

          7. Consider glove/shoe improvements, possibly involving HotHands warmers 

          8. Attach a rear mud flap for a pack-friendly spray

A Snow-pocalypse

At 7am on Sunday morning, I cracked an eye and saw white rooftops. I closed my eyes and the snow melted into a warm summery day. At nine, I peeked out to find the snow was indeed real and that it was piled high and falling in great big, puffy flakes. SNOW DAY! I started the kettle to boil for hot chocolate and made a snowman, grinning like a two-year-old, cracked out on birthday cake. 

Picasso

Realism

Later

The snow didn’t stop falling until late in the afternoon and it was awesome. Nothing transforms reality like mountains of white powder. As if God upended a giant bag of flour, every branch and rooftop became a magical scene. I spent most of Sunday with two hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate spiked with coffee and my chin resting on a windowsill, gaping. We have lots of windows in our house and I had to visit them all periodically marveling at the slightly different views they afforded.

The branches collected a lot of snow.

View from the Front/Back Room

Blue Sky?

View from Ben's picture window

Spiderweb

Two Squash

Although our larder is getting low and it was hardly a day for grocery shopping, I dug two squash out of the back of the pantry and made three new recipes during the Snow-pocalyse. The original plan was just to make butternut and acorn squash soup, so I roasted and de-seeded one of each. This yielded twice as much squash as the soup recipe required and a mound of seeds bursting with potential. The seeds were painstakingly separated from the strings then roasted with garlic and parmesean, while the remainder of the squash was used to make squash spaetzle. Triple score. 

This is what the squash looked like before I ate it.

The curried squash soup recipe was taken from Mollie Katzen’s The New Moosewood Cookbook. Unfortunately, I discovered that I don't particularly enjoy curried squash soup and thus will not pass on the recipe.

The seed roasting procedure was taken from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian and the buttery, garlic Parmesan flavoring was a tip from here. 

Garlic and Parmesean Flavored Squash Seeds

Clean and dry the seeds. Spread them into a single layer on a baking sheet. Drizzle them with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and stir them to coat. Bake at 375F for 5-10 minutes, until you hear the first seed pop or they start changing color. Add as much butter as you are willing to eat in one sitting, sprinkle with garlic powder and Parmesan cheese (shredded and not from a green plastic container, preferably). Stir to mix as the butter melts. Return to oven for five minutes.

Garlic and Parmesan Flavored Squash Seeds

 The squash spaetzle recipe is from Hank Shaw’s Hunter Angler Gardener Cook blog. Too much nutmeg though.

Cheesy squash spaetzle on a bed of sauteed kale

Dinner Journal:

Tuesday: Cheese Enchiladas from Homesick Texan (added roasted poblanos and black beans), Cilantro-Lime Rice (left it too long in the rice cooker == GUMMY), Tomatillo-Avocado Salsa adapted from Mark Miller’s Tacos.

Tomatillo-Avocado Salsa
First set of ingredients:
1 pound Tomatillos (husked and quartered)
1 small white onion (quartered)
2 cloves garlic
2 serrano peppers (seeded) -- pepper content is flexible
2 jalapeno peppers (seeded)
1.5 cups H2O

Second set of ingredients:
1 bunch cilantro
2 tbs lime juice
1 tbs salt
1 large avocado

• In a sauce pan, add first set of ingredients.
• Boil until tomatillos and peppers are blanched (about 5 min)
• Transfer to a blender and add second list of ingredients (maybe go easy on the salt if planning to eat on salty chips).  Blend.
• Can eat warm or cooled.

Wednesday: Tacos made from the enchilada fixins’ leftovers

Thursday: Mushroom Casserole from Heidi Swanson's 101 Cookbooks blog (made by my friend Shannon)

Friday: The Veggie Chimichurri burger from Schultzy’s bar

Saturday: Porto Risotto from Coastal Kitchen (dinner with Libby and Taylor!)

Sunday: Curried Squash soup

Monday: Tortilla Soup from Amanda McGlothlin's Little Kitchen and Hindu-ritos and Short Chuck's Tall Sauce

First Training Ride and Steamed Buns

Imagine being in a parking lot the size of half a football field and instead of cars it is full of bikes. People on bikes, wearing all manner of crazy colors and spandex and clippy shoes and goofy helmets and tiny rear view mirrors attached to their helmets. I was one of those people and it was awesome. Now - here comes my favorite part of the entire ride: after an anonymous call, "Roll Out!", we all begin clipping our shoes into our pedals and our peloton left the parking lot en masse. The incessant and arrhythmic clipping made my heart smile. 

I have never been part of such a large group of cyclists, nor have I ridden as far as we did last Saturday. I was riding with the Seattle Randonneurs on the first Winter Training Series ride. The goal of this 8 week series is to ride a century - a 100 miles. Ambitious, but not insane. This first ride was 38 miles through exquisitely beautiful east of Seattle near the town of Redmond. I wish I had had that camera implanted in my eyeball so I could show you what it was like, but my insurance wouldn't cover it. Instead imagine the pungent smell of manure, a tall leafless tree full of cowbirds, a rutted dirt farm road, and fog enshrouding the distant hills. Another section of ride was on winding, hilly roads alongside moderate traffic, a light misting drizzle adding just enough water to the air to make it COLD. (I couldn't feel my feet after the first five minutes of the ride.) 

Despite the cold, 2.5 flat tires (on my bike alone), and dragging my shin down my pedal, I was enamored of the ride and plan to continue the series with gusto this coming Saturday on this ride. Nothing compares to unclipping at the end of the ride, clacking into the bike shop, filling a small Styrofoam cup with steaming water, dropping in a sachet of black Eary Grey tea, and chomping down on the best pastry I have ever tasted. Ever. Triangular, encrusted with large granules of sugar, and filled with a mix of apple pie filling and vanilla pudding. Unholy. Thank you Pacific Coast Bakery.

Since I failed at taking a single picture on the ride, I made a short picture montage demonstrating how I dress to ride in the winter cold and drizzle:

Switching gears, I also made a first attempt at homemade steamed buns. I found the recipe on use real butter, a well-photographed, well-written food blog. Robert and I ate these at least once a day while in Vietnam (a YEAR ago, time travels so quickly), so the bar for this recipe was set high. Ben's contribution to the effort was sweetened black sesame seed paste, which he made from a recipe on The Fresh Loaf, inspired after having them at Din Tai Fung in Bellevue, WA. Although my bun shaping and sealing skills need some work, I was wholly satisfied with the pillowy texture of the dough and the incredible flavor of the sweetened black sesame paste filling: black gold. 

Cooking Notes: I initially thought the dough was too dry and went a little overboard adding water; next time I will try to stick closer to the recipe and/or be more conservative with my additions. We made three fillings: curried peas and carrots, red bean paste (purchased from Uwijamiya), and sweetened black sesame seed paste. The black sesame seed paste was a little too runny, making it difficult to contain in the dough pocket - less oil next time. When forming the buns, gather as little dough as possible to seal them - I gathered and twisted too much dough together, accidentally forming a large ball of dough at the bottom of the bun, forcing the filling to spread into a thin layer just under the top skin of the bun. It didn't affect the flavor, but the aesthetic was slightly off.

Adding black gold (aka sweetened black sesame seed) paste to a nascent steamed bun.

Begin pinching the dough together to make a pocket for the filling.

Gather the dough together at the bottom. DO NOT make your dough look like mine. I have WAY too much extra dough at my pinch.

Here are a few of the buns waiting to be steamed. From noon to nine, red paprika = sweetened red bean filling, yellow turmeric = curried peas and carrots filling, black showing through thin dough = sweetened black sesame seed filling, swirl = empty.

Dinner Journal:

Tuesday: Lettuce + buckwheat soba noodle miso soup

Wednesday: Grilled eggplant and feta cheese

Thursday: Catered Indian food at Ben's MSTP event: palak paneer, rice, naan, mint and tamarind chutneys

Friday: Ethiopian Food at Assimba (veggie combo plate, gluten free injera)

Saturday: Homemade, gluten-free pho 
       
       (Broth: 1 onion (quartered), 1 thumb of ginger (halved and smashed with knife butt), 2 cinnamon sticks, 3 star anise, 3/4 a Johannes Brau Dunkelwisen (beer), water to fill most of stock pot,3/4 T Chinese 5 spice powder, small dose of sugar, tamari and salt to taste (needs a fair bit since I started from beer and water instead of pre-made broth); inspiration drawn from: Gastronomy and Running With Tweezers.

Sunday: Fresh coconut, steamed buns, tomato + feta salad, steamed whole artichoke

Monday: Steamed whole artichoke, grilled eggplant, part of Ben's zombie omelet: veggie chorizo, cilantro, Thai basil, jalapenos, sauteed onions, rice cakes, 4 eggs and matchsticks of Parmesan.   

Bonus Feature: How to Harvest Coconut Water and Meat from a Mature Coconut

I bought a couple of coconuts to play with. This type of mature coconut has three "eyes" on one end. One of these "eyes" is softer than the others and can easily be gouged out with a screw driver.

Gouge and then drain the coconut water out. Can you tell which coconut I let mold? (Note to self: remove coconuts from plastic bag and store in the fridge.)

To harvest the meat, you need to first crack the dang thing open. I accomplished this by banging the 'nut a few times on the cement stairs in front of my house.

It is so dreamily white on the inside!

   

I can't offer a good explanation of how to get the meat out of the shell -- it was hard work. I also don't want to reveal that I used a kitchen knife (prized and revered for their magical powers in my household and not to be abused) to pry out the meat. The interweb can show you some tools that are made just for this purpose, perhaps you can try heating it in the oven, or perhaps you are a better pryer than I. All I can say is: good luck! If you have a juicer or food processor, you can grate the coconut. If you are kitchen-machine-poor, like I, you can munch on the shards of raw coconut until they turn into crumbly wood chips in your mouth! YUM. (I highly suggest further processing, but I refuse to let my hard earned coconut meat go to waste.)

Ka-POW!

This is a blog post in five acts. Why so many? You know the answer -- I have been remiss and a lot has happened since I last posted. Furthermore, I am completely skipping two momentous events, namely my first snow shoeing excursion and a trip back to Texas for the holidays. Some One took the memory card with those pictures to the dark land of the Arctic, so those posts will be POST-poned for a bit. 

Act 1: Hot and Sour Soup

Upon returning to Seattle after the holidays, my first order of business was to make hot and sour soup from my new cookbook. 

I've never attempted this type of soup and was sad to have missed getting some from Thai Kitchen while I was in Austin (despite the fact that they are not Chinese, they really do make the best hot and sour soup in town). My friend's Amanda and Adam have long pursued a good recipe for this soup and either I got extremely lucky or my tastes are not quite as discerning as theirs. Katzen's recipe yielded amazing results. It helped having an excellent Asian grocery store (Hau Hau Market) a few blocks away. I was able to stock up on a few staples and get all the ingredients I needed for a mere $11!

Clockwise from top left: Sriracha, Soy Sauce, Bamboo shoots, Chinese black mushrooms, cornstarch, tofu, scallions, my favorite knife and chopped Chinese black mushrooms. (Not an exhaustive list of ingredients and some of these were unused in the recipe.)

Apologies for no picture of the final product. While it was delectable, the pictures are so unappetizing I can't stand posting them. 

Act 2: Queso

At a New Year's Eve party I had the distinct pleasure of introducing a group of new friends to Queso. To the uninitated, this is a Texas standard, made my melting Velveeta "cheese" with RO*TEL tomatoes and green chilies. Usually, I am the kid hovering over the bowl with elbows out to dissuade competition, but this time I was content to watch my Northern friends inhale their new favorite snack at break-neck speed. I swear the party migrated from the living room to the dining room table when I set the queso down, no one willing to move more than an arm's length away from the bowl. Proud.

Photo Credit: http://ballparkbiz.wordpress.com

Act 3: Birthday Feast

Since my birthday falls ambiguously betwixt two days, Dec. 31 and Jan 1, I get to choose how to celebrate. Heretofore I have not enjoyed competing with New Year's Eve, a holiday too fancy for my tastes, so this year I decided that I wasn't going to compete. I moved my birthday solidly into New Year's Day and threw myself a dinner party, inspired by none other than the aforementioned cookbook. Ever ambitious, I planned to make seven brand new recipes -- a robust Greek Mezza. 

Menu: 

Stuffed Grape Leaves (Dolmas)

Felafel (mashed chickpea patties)

Bulgur and Lentil Salad

Balkan Cucumber Salad

Wicked Garlic Dip 

Vegetable Walnut Pate ("It really does taste like chopped liver." -MK)

Pita Bread

The day broke beautifully and Seattle gave me shadows in the shower for my birthday. I know I am acclimating to living in Seattle because my heart smiles when I see shadows - evidence that Mr. Golden Sun is out in full effect.

I donned clothes, covered them in an apron (Thanks, Ma!) and scuttled into the kitchen. The day was full of cooking, hot tea and friends - much better than sparkles, champagne and fireworks.

Pita bread dough rising in the oven. Thanks to Ma and Martha for contributing to this endeavor!

Shannon and Nicole rolling dolmas.

Grape leaves taste like pickles if you ask me. These are full of rice, sunflower seeds, onion, celery, mint, parsley and lemon juice (Thanks for the lemon squeezer, Ma - it works like a champ!).

The pita was truly a group effort. I started the dough, Shannon kneaded and Ben finished them off.

Here is Nicole's bulgur and lentil salad. The fresh herbs, feta and olives made this dish sing.

The one low point in the menu. I didn't cook the chickpeas long enough, making their mashing damn near impossible and their texture too crunchy.

 

  We finished off the meal with a game of Cranium, which brings me to my next act...

 

Act 4: It wouldn't be a good birthday if it didn't make you feel old.

During Cranium, I had the distinct pleasure of having to impersonate a character that my teammates then had to guess - similar to charades, except that I could talk. My character was easy enough - or so I thought. I confidently stood up and started fake punching bad guys, saying "Ka-Pow! Ka-Blammo! Splat!" My wine addled brain got stuck on this one clue, so I failed at redirecting and simply had to continue fake punching bad guys and uttering onomatopoetic exclamations with increasing urgency and exasperation. Who was I? 

After two excruciatingly long minutes, no one had any idea who I was. Ben (who was not playing) had a giant grin on his face and as the sand finished falling he exclaimed, "It's before their time!" Alas, my new friends are much younger than I.  

Act 5: Future Blogging Plans

My time off was filled with cooking, my Christmas presents were full of cooking implements, my first adventure back in Seattle was to cook a new soup from a new cookbook, my birthday present to myself was a day of cooking. I think it is time to stop pretending that this blog can be anything but a record of my adventures in the kitchen. Amusingly enough, the night after I privately resolved to jump with both feet into cooking blog territory, Robert sent me the following email:

http://lunch.thecanalhouse.com/

I think I want to start a blog like this when I am home but of course not as often as them.

<his reference is to a cooking blog> 

So here goes: You can expect one post each week, every Tuesday (like clockwork). You can expect each post to include an anecdote, a recipe from the past week, at least one original photograph and a dinner journal. Possible additions to the regular format include restaurant reviews, guest bloggers (anyone have a recipe to share? can you keep a dinner journal for a week?), and archives that collect the best recipes we use again and again. That is where we are now. We will see how it develops. Finally, Robert and I are collecting recipes and pictures for a homegrown cookbook due out six months from now - let's call it Robert's birthday. 

As a show of good faith, here is my first dinner journal:

Tuesday: Buckwheat Noodle Soup

Wednesday: Black Bean Nachos, Queso + Cumin Lentils, Guacamole, UT Football

Friday: San Choy Greens and Rice

Saturday: Queso and Champagne (Happy New Year!)

Sunday: Greek Mezza

Monday: Queso Compuesto + Greek Leftovers

(Yes, friends, I had queso three nights this week. Don't judge.)