Sourdough Mindset

Okay, let me start at the beginning.  Thirty years ago, I wanted to learn to make sourdough bread.  I researched everything about making the starter.  Just when I thought everything was going great, we had an ice storm and were without power for over a week.  Needless to say, the starter died.

I am otherwise an exceptional cook and baker.

Several other times over the years, I tried again.  Somehow the Sourdough Gods were against me.  My ego was crushed.

Now I've got the urge to try again and THIS TIME, come hell or high water, I will succeed!

I found a good sourdough support page on facebook and I've scoured YouTube videos.  I'm going to try to make my own starter from scratch.  I will give it two chances.  If neither works, I will swallow my pride and buy a dehydrated starter from King Arthur Flour.  I think one reason I may have failed, I've learned recently you should use filtered water and not tap water, since most of us have chlorine water in our towns.

I've always loved to cook and bake.  But it's more than that for me.  Have you seen the price of a quality loaf of bread in the grocery store?  And so often a loaf has already started to go stale by the time I open it up.  I yearn for that soft, fresh taste of bread right out of the oven.  And who doesn't just love the "tang" of sourdough?

Do I fly or drive???

This is one I really struggle with!  Once a year, I go to Alabama for a cousins' reunion.  And for the last two years, I have gone to Virginia over the holidays to visit with my son and his family, along with other family members from points North and South!

The cousins' reunion has been a tradition since 2009 that we all look forward to.  Until the last two years, I drove down.  Ten to eleven hours on the road for two days both going and returning.  Yes, it was very tiring. . . and stressful, going through several large cities, which I seem to always hit during rush hour.  Both my kids and my cousins had been after me almost from the beginning, "Why don't you fly?"  One year, my daughter-in-law even sent me a proposed airline itinerary.  I deleted it.  No, I am too independent and territorial to deal with airline policies and procedures.  My skin crawls at the idea of strangers going through my luggage.  And, what do you mean, you are taking my carry-on bag from me at the airplane door to store underneath the plane???  The ground crews toss your bag around like it is a rubber ball.

And what about those huge, HUGE airports, crowded with people and little kids pitching temper tantrums right in front of you as you are desperately trying to get to your next gate in time to board your flight???

Last year, I was supposed to have a two hour layover in Philly on my return from Virginia, plenty of time to catch my next flight, right?  WRONG!  When all passengers were seated on the plane in Virginia, I noticed they had not closed the airplane door.  What does that mean?  Then the announcement came. . . "We are sorry for the inconvenience, but all passengers need to deplane and go to gate. . ."  I made a quick call to my daughter-in-law (she has traveled all over the world extensively and knows all the ins and outs).  "You aren't going to make your connecting flight in Philly. . . "  NOT what I wanted to hear.

She did some research and called me back.  "Okay, there is a flight to Rochester at 9:00 pm tonight.  See if you can get on that one."  

What?  Twelve hours in a huge and crowded airport?  I'll go nuts.

Although this year's flight went reasonably well (keyword here "reasonably") I still found myself thinking maybe I will drive next time.

In the end, I know, given my age and how my body and brain shut down once I get really tired, it is better for me to fly.  And I've learned to accept the fact that things are going to go wrong and won't go smoothly.  Once I learned that, it is somewhat easier for me to deal with that monster known as airline travel.

Little things mean a lot

Sometimes it is the little, unexpected things that bring joy.

Earlier this week, I had lunch with four friends that I used to work with.  We get together on occasion for lunch and it is a fun time.  We don't exchange Christmas gifts.  But one in our group, Carol, walked in with a bag from Bed, Bath, and Beyond.  At the end of lunch, she gave each of us a candle.  But these weren't just any candles!

The were glass enclosed and each one had a different title on them.  Mine said "Baked with Love."  She had chosen each candle based on the interests of the one receiving it.

"How did you know I like to bake?" I asked.

"From your facebook posts!" was her answer.

We were in awe that she had taken the time to find such unique gifts!

It made my day!

Quote for the Day

All of us could learn a lesson from the weather. . . it pays no attention to criticism.

Memories of the Adirondacks

 

Back in my younger days, in the 80’s, 90’s and 2000’s, I spent many pleasant times in New York State’s Adirondack Park.  It was my playground.  In the summer and fall there was canoe camping, car camping in some of the fantastic state campgrounds, day hiking and backpacking, and in the winter there was cross country skiing and snowshoeing.  My mind is racing, as I write this, of all the fun times I had there.

 

I have climbed 17 of the 46 High Peaks, including a few on snowshoes in winter.  My friend, Nancy Lauterbach and I, who unfortunately passed away some years back, spent many great times all over the place up there.  One trip, in particular, stands out as truly splendid.  We were spending a long weekend at a B&B in Keene Valley.  The innkeeper helped us shuttle cars, dropping us off first at our ending to leave a car and then taking us to our beginning.  We spent a wonderful day ski touring the Jack Rabbit Trail from Lake Placid down to Keene Valley.  The weather and snow conditions could not have been any nicer.  For most of the day we had the trail all to ourselves.  The scenery went from snow covered evergreen trees on a flat trail to rolling terrain through a forest of barren trees.  In the middle of the day we stopped at Mt. Van Hoevenburg to enjoy a lunch of hot bowls of chili before continuing on our way.

 

On that same trip, on another day, we decided to climb Cascade Mountain.  What a fiasco!  The snow conditions that day required full crampons on your snowshoes.  Our snowshoes only had a V-shaped metal piece underneath – not crampons.  We struggled along since turning back was not in our vocabulary.  We weren’t doing too badly, albeit slow going, until we came upon an incline, close to a 45 degree angle that was a sheet of ice.  “That’s it, I’m not going up that!” Nancy swore. 

 

“Oh, come on, Nancy, we can figure this out!”  She wouldn’t budge and neither would I.  We were so close to the summit and I wasn’t quitting.  Finally I realized if we held on to the small evergreen bushes/trees along the side, we could pull our way up.  Nancy wasn’t buying it!  I started up without her.  “Hey, this isn’t hard at all!”  I called back to her.  You can do it!  Piece of cake!  It took me maybe ten minutes to get to the top unscathed.  I turned around and tried to talk her into coming on up.  Finally she started up, cussing me and calling me every bad word she could think of along the way.  I had to go behind a bush so she couldn’t see me laughing at her.  She made it to the top and then glared at me, “Just how do you expect us to get back down this death trap?” 

 

“I don’t know.  We’ll figure something out,” I laughed.  As usual, the view from the summit was well worth all our struggles to get there.  On our way back down, we ran into a young man with a full backpack.  We asked him how to get down “that icy spot.”

 

“Oh, that is the fun part!” he smiled.  “I’ll show you”

 

He had an ice pick that ice climbers use.  He taught us to sit down with the pick to your side.  If you wanted to go down slowly, you pushed the pick harder into the ice.  If you wanted to go faster, you put less pressure on it going down.  He demonstrated, then quickly climbed back up, gave the pick to Nancy, who by this time was beginning to think this could be fun!

 

She laughed all the way down and couldn’t wait to get back up to the top to try it again.  After her second trip down, I said, “Hey, Nancy, mind if I get a turn?”

 

That young man probably told everyone he knew about these two crazy women he ran into on Cascade Mountain that day!

 

Rollins Pond Campground is a very popular state run campground that offers miles of paddling opportunities.  You could spend almost a week there and paddle a different destination each day.  One night, the boys were in their tent asleep, thankfully our dog was in her cage in the van.  It was just me and my husband sitting around the campfire.  Suddenly this large animal walked through our campsite and behind our fire pit.  It took a few seconds to realize this was no dog, but a bear, not even 8 feet away from where we were sitting.  “Don!. . . Bear!”  Those were the only words I could get out.  Seconds later we heard a loud crash.  The bear ran into our canoe at the edge of the pond.  That is one night I will never forget!

 

I led many outdoor trips for the local chapter of the Adirondack Mountain Club over the years.  You listed your hike/paddle/whatever in the newsletter and people signed up.  While I did try to screen the participants to ensure they would be able to handle the trip, that was not always fool proof.  Sometimes their definition of their skill level and my definition were not always on the same page.  Take Charlie (not is real name) for example.  It was February and my canoe trip was not until May.  As soon as the trip was announced, I got a call from this older gentleman.  He was so enthusiastic.  He had bought a brand new Wenonah Kevlar canoe and was anxious to get it in the water.  “Oh, yeah, I can handle myself well in a canoe,” he assured me.

 

Fast forward to May.  We were paddling from Blue Mountain Lake down into Utowana Lake and camping at a leanto.  As we all parked our cars, unloaded our gear, Charlie was ahead of us.  This was the first red flag.  His canoe was sitting on a dock, fully loaded with gear, NOT in the water.  We gently told him it might work better if he loaded it in the water.  I had paired him with an experienced paddler who was very patient with him.  Soon we were off and paddling down the lake.  I remember thinking everything was going to be fine.  The weather turned sour and it was either raining – which kept the black flies away – or the rain stopped and the black flies were out in force.  Most of us had prepared to deal with the black flies and we had rain gear. . . then there was Charlie. . .

 

The next morning, I crawled out of the tent to a sunny day.  The only person I saw was Charlie.  “Good Morning, Charlie!”  I smiled.  “How are you?”

“TERRIBLE!  When is the next train out of here?”

 

Oh well, you win some and you lose some.

 

Over about a ten year period, I hiked the 120 mile Northville-Placid Trail.  I have many fond memories of those days on the trail, some over weekend trips but mostly over weeklong trips on the trail.  Some with close friends, Nancy among those, and others with folks that signed up for my trips through the ADK.  I had the pleasure of introducing a few people to the joys of backpacking who were ever so grateful to me for.

 

On one of those trips, it was just Nancy and me, for a week long trek.  She brought along a 2 pound roll of German sausage.  Now 2 pounds on a backpacking trip is a lot of weight!  I didn’t really care for it, although I ate some of it with crackers.  It really was way too much for the two of us.  We talked about ways to get rid of it, but truthfully, throwing it away on the ground, or in an outhouse was just more than we could justify.  About the third day out, we ran into a couple who were hiking the trail end-to-end over three weeks.  For that kind of trip, you REALLY have to pack lightly!  We struck up a conversation with them and immediately, it was clear, these guys were GERMAN!!!  I looked at Nancy and she looked at me.  Finally, I think it was her that asked them if they would like to have our German sausage.  Their faces lit up with joy!  They had been eating rice cakes, dehydrated food, and crackers.  You would think we were giving them a treasure chest full of gold!  They were happy to get the sausage and we were glad to get rid of it!

 

I love all kinds of cooking and baking and learned to do camp dutch oven cooking with my canoe and car camping trips. . . kind of hard carrying a heavy cast iron oven on a hike!  As much as I love camp dutch oven cooking, even more so did I thrill to the response I got from campers who didn’t know what that was all about and were not expecting a delicious meal cooked over hot coals deep in the woods!    Years after one of those trips, I ran into one of the participants. . . I had actually forgotten about him, but he remembered me!  He raved about how he remembered that dutch oven meal and what a big surprise it was for him.  That was his first ever canoe camping trip!

 

These and so many more precious memories will stay with me for the rest of my life.  I have truly been blessed by my experiences in the outdoors of the Adirondacks

Dogs

 “A dog doesn’t belong in the house.” . . . . “Dogs carry germs.”. . . . “Stay away from strange dogs, they could bite you.” . . .

Growing up in a house where I heard these comments over and over from my father, it is a wonder I grew up to passionately love dogs.  I realized at an early age that he had a lot of strange beliefs, not just on dogs!

I do love dogs very much.  I have often said I love dogs more than some people I know.

Dogs have an enormous sense of what is going on in your mind and your heart.  They know when you are heart broken and respond by cuddling close to you and licking your hand and looking at you with those eyes that say, “I’m here for you.”  Bring a newborn baby into the family and they will wag their tail and show a protective nature toward that new bundle of joy.

Don’t bother remembering when it is time to feed them.  They will let you know with that look of anticipation in their eyes. 

I have owned a Labrador Retriever since 1985 – five of them.  Teri, Cash, Molly, Morgan, and Bailey.  I still have Morgan, age 11, and Bailey, age 8.  To my way of thinking, the Lab is the ONLY breed in the world!  They are just so loving and so adaptable to your lifestyle.  Feed them and give them a good home and you have a loyal friend for life.  There is something undeniably special about a Lab that sets them apart from other breeds.

 

An absolutely, fantastic, wonderful read!

I am a voracious reader.  Nothing destroys stress and emotional pain in me more than a good book. . . and there have been hundreds of them throughout my life.

Enter Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese.  Wow!  I was not prepared to be totally gripped by this story.  It is not a book I would normally be attracted to.  But I have a habit of seeing someone with a book and asking them what they are reading.  This man's face lit up as he began telling me about this book.  Either he was a good actor or he had led me to something I should look into!

It is the story of a beautiful nun from India who falls in love with a British doctor and their union produces twin boys.  She dies bringing them into the world and the father disappears for the next 30 years.  There are so many plots and characters to this story.  The reader is taken from Ethiopia to New York and back to Ethiopia again.

Verghese is a phenomenal storyteller and you will be grabbed from the beginning pages.  

Those who know me will tell you I rarely rave to others about a book I have read.  This one is an exception.  It is an unforgettable story of love and betrayal, medicine and ordinary miracles, and two brothers whose fates are forever intertwined.  A definite page turner!

On smoking meat

 I get it.  We live in a fast paced, dog eat dog world.  It is a struggle just to get by in a minimum sort of way.

It is easy for me to say, “Slow down. . . take time for YOU.”  My sons are adults and I am long past the constant running here and there, keeping up with their sports and school schedules.  But, SLOW DOWN!  Take time for YOU!

Enter smoking meat into my life.  I had wanted to try it for quite a few years before I took the dive.  It seemed so difficult.  What if I ruined a piece of meat?  And how do I go about finding the right smoker for me? . . . there are dozens of models out there.

About ten years ago, I turned “thinking about it” into “just do it.”  Before I knew it, my 18 inch Weber Smokey Mountain smoker was spread out all over my living room floor and me wondering if I could really put this thing together.  An hour or so later, it was standing up, fully assembled in my living room and the dogs sniffing and marveling at this thing Sherry brought home.

With the help of the internet and cookbooks, I was on my way.  I smoked a whole chicken first, the easiest and idiot proof.  I admit to being a bit nervous at first but I was overjoyed at the way it turned out.

Then I discovered a whole different side of this new interest that I never saw coming.  Aside from the excitement of preparing the chicken for smoking and getting the smoker up and running, I felt a sense of joy and contentment sitting by the smoker, letting my mind go blank as I stared at the puffy white clouds in the blue sky above, watching the dogs chase each other around the yard.  I would get up once or twice every hour to check the thermometer on the lid of the smoker and if needed, adjust the bottom vents to control the temperature.  My body had slowed down, my mind wasn’t crowded with endless pressure.  Why did I wait so long before doing something that brings me so much joy?  The aroma coming from the smoker was just divine.

Over the years I ventured out from a whole chicken to baby back ribs, even a brisket, pork, and a roast beef.   Not once have I ruined a piece of meat!  Instead, I have had some of the best tasting meat you could ever imagine.  Every year I say I am going to do a Thanksgiving turkey.  But honestly, when there is snow on the ground and winter has set in, I lose interest in firing up the smoker.  Someday. . .

I am a strong advocate of a charcoal smoker with chunks of wood (apple, hickory, cherry, even wood from old wine barrels).  You get the best flavor that way.  Leave the pellet and electric models to those with a “fix it and forget it” mindset.  The Weber Smokey Mountain comes in three sizes and is used by beginners and professionals alike.  It is easy to use, a snap to assemble, has no moving parts to break down, and a large water pan that adds moisture.  

Carrot Soup with Nutmeg

As summer winds down, I begin thinking of my many soup recipes.  This one definitely is a favorite.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

2 tablespoons white wine

about 4 cups carrots, peeled, and sliced thin lengthwise 

2 cups chicken broth

1 teaspoon salt

pinch of ground nutmeg

1 - 1 1/4 cups whole milk

2 teaspoons minced fresh mint or parsley for garnish

Heat the olive oil in a dutch oven over medium high heat.  Add onion and cook about 5 minutes.  Add the wine and carrots, stirring constantly, until the wine evaporates, about 30 seconds.

Add broth, salt and pepper to taste, and nutmeg to the pot and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer, covered, until carrots are tender, about 20 minutes.

Add milk and process with a hand blender until mixture is smooth, adding more milk if needed to thin the soup.

Ladle into soup bowls and garnish with mint or parsley as desired.

This can be stored in the refrigerator up to 3 days and reheated just before serving.

Taco Salad

Although I'm into Mexican cuisine, I've never made Taco Salad.  Found a friend that had a recipe and made it.  DELICIOUS!!!

Ground beef cooked and sprinkled with Taco Seasoning

Chopped romaine lettuce

Cherry tomatoes chopped in half

Grated cheddar

Catalina dressing

Fritos corn chips, original flavor, loosely crumbled

Combine all ingredients and serve.  It's best to add the corn chips just before serving so they don't become soggy.  I make a big batch of this, refrigerate or freeze in serving size containers and add the chips at serving.