All posts by Laurie Graves
Introducing Hinterland Photography
Today, I am going to toot my own horn. Clif and I are launching a photography website called—ta-da!—Hinterland Photography, where we are selling cards and prints.
Here is a blurb from the website that describes who we are and what we like to photograph:
“We—Clif and Laurie Graves—are a husband and wife team. Clif has been taking pictures since he was a young man, and he has many, many years of experience in graphic arts. He has designed posters for local businesses, and his photographs have appeared in Maine magazines and on websites. Laurie is newer to photography, but she has had the benefit of living with an accomplished photographer and learning from him.
We live on the edge of things, and we like it that way. Our photographs reflect this sensibility, and indeed most of our pictures were taken in central Maine, which is not exactly on the beaten track. We love the woods, flowers, trees, lakes, and nature in general. On rare occasions, we venture to the Maine coast, but most of our photographs were taken in Winthrop, the town where we live. Indeed many of them were taken in our very own yard. Our pictures capture the quiet beauty of central Maine, of a rural town and the surrounding woods and lakes, and the progression of the seasons.”
Here are some examples of cards and prints we are selling:
As the photos show, we go from winter to summer. (However, it seems to me that flower cards can be sent any time of year.) We also feature Maine images and library cards. We will soon be offering fall cards as well as a special section with photos that are an homage to Georgia O’Keeffe.
So if you like what you see, then please spread the word. And perhaps buy a card or a print?
By a Strange Coincidence
Today I am going to have a tooth pulled, so there is not much time to write. However, I did want to share a quotation from Hal Borland’s An American Year. (Borland was a nature writer who wrote for the New York Times. In upcoming posts, I hope to write a little more about this terrific writer.)
This quotation is a perfect example of what might be called a strange coincidence. A few weeks ago, I had never heard of tobacco hornworms and did not know that they turned into the enchanting hummingbird moths. Then I discovered the hornworm in my garden, did some research, and uncovered the Horrid Truth.
A week or so later, I came upon this passage in An American Year. “Those dark, swift wings hovering over the garden these August evenings are moths, not hummingbirds as they appear at first glance in the dusk. Hawk moths, some call them, or sphinx or hummingbird moths. They are easily mistaken for hummingbirds…But they are true moths, and at one stage of their development they have been voracious hornworms feeding on tobacco or eating the heart out of ripening tomatoes.”
Oh, isn’t that the truth! The fair Juliet is no more. All the plants have been pulled from my little garden. I threw them, hornworms and all, into the woods, where no doubt the hornworms will thrive and reproduce and return to torment my plants next fall.
But after examining hornworms so closely, I just couldn’t bring myself to kill them.
La Dolce Vita: Roasted Tomato Sauce with Peppers and Sausage
Yesterday, I groused about the extreme heat we’ve been having this September, but I must grudgingly admit that it is very pleasant to still be able to eat supper on the patio and to not wear either sweater or sweatshirt when doing so. This is especially true if you are eating roasted tomato sauce made with tomatoes you picked that very afternoon. Add sausage and peppers to the sauce. Spoon over the pasta of your choice. Serve with a salad made with lettuce and carrots from Farmer Kev’s garden.
What more could you ask for? A glass of red wine? Why, yes, indeed. A meal like that, eaten outside on a warm night, certainly fits my idea of la dolce vita.
This tomato sauce, which can really only be made once a year when the tomatoes are at their ripest, is so good that last night Clif said, “You would have to pay a lot to get a meal like this in a restaurant.”
That is high, high praise coming from my Yankee husband, whose usual comment is “pretty darned good.” Let’s just say that last night at the little house in the big woods, the cook was pretty darned happy.
I made the sauce using Juliet tomatoes, which Johnny’s Selected Seeds describes as a “mini-roma” that has a “[d]elicious, rich tomato flavor for salads, great salsa, and fresh pasta sauce. ” This description is no exaggeration. I’ve made roasted tomato sauce with romas, and the sauce is perfectly good. But with the fair Juliet, well, it makes even a Yankee husband go beyond his usual understated words of praise. However, I have looked at several recipes online, and non-roma tomatoes are also used. So any fresh tomato will do. (I have a huge bowl filled with Farmer Kev tomatoes that are just begging to be made into a roasted sauce.)
Now comes the big question: What to do with the skins and seeds? Neither Clif nor I mind the skin and seeds of Juliet, and I blend the roasted tomatoes just as they are. With larger tomatoes, I might remove the skins, but I would leave the seeds. For those who don’t like or can’t eat seeds, the sauce could be strained.
I have loads of fresh oregano in my garden, and I sprinkle a generous amount of the herb, along with kosher salt, on the tomatoes before roasting. Dried oregano could be substituted, but in lesser amounts.
After roasting, I blend the tomatoes in a food processor. The sauce is then sautéed with garlic and olive oil, and you could stop right there. However, last night, I added peppers and chicken sausage, but you could add zucchini or summer squash. Or onions. Or meat balls. Spoon the sauce over pasta or roasted eggplant. Or a thick, chewy bread.
If it’s warm enough, eat outside. If not, eat inside. Either way, it’s la dolce vita when you have a sauce this good.
Roasted Tomato Sauce
Adapted from a recipe from Epicurious
Ingredients
- 4 pounds of fresh tomatoes
- 3 tablespoons of olive oil and a little more for oiling the pans
- 5 tablespoons of chopped oregano (Dried oregano can also be used but in much lesser amounts, say, a teaspoon or so.)
- Kosher salt, enough to sprinkle on the tomatoes, about a tablespoon
- 4 cloves of garlic, minced, and about a tablespoon of oil for sautéing after the tomatoes have been roasted
- Peppers, sausage, zucchini, summer squash (These ingredients are optional and are sautéed with the garlic.)
Directions
- Arrange racks in the oven so that one is in the middle and the other is above it.
- Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
- Wash the tomatoes, dry, and remove the stems.
- Cut them in half and put them in a large mixing bowl.
- Stir the 3 tablespoons of olive oil into the tomatoes.
- Place the tomatoes, cut side up, on 2 oiled baking sheets.
- Sprinkle with kosher salt and chopped oregano.
- Place baking sheets on racks and set timer for 20 minutes. When the timer goes off, switch the sheets so that the sheet on the top rack is in the middle, and the sheet on the middle rack is now on the top. Roast for another 20 minutes or until the tomatoes are very soft.
- Let the tomatoes cool on the baking sheets. When they are cool, scoop the tomatoes into a blender or food processor and blend into a sauce.
- In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil. Sauté the peppers, sausage, and/or squash, if using. When the vegetables are soft, add the garlic and sauté for 30 seconds. Add the blended tomatoes.
- Simmer the sauce for at least a half-hour or until the sauce reaches a desired thickness. (Tomato paste could be added if the sauce seems too thin, but that should be a last resort. You don’t want anything to interfere with the lovely, fresh taste of the tomatoes.)
- Serves 4 or 6, depending upon appetite.
An Uninvited Guest
There. With the heatwave that started the first of September and shows no sign of abating, it is official. In Maine, September is the new August, with nights warm enough to eat on the patio, and no jacket required. The days are ridiculously hot for mid-September—in the 90s—and while I long to make soup, I will wait for cooler weather.
One warm evening a few nights back, as Clif and I were sitting on the patio, I glanced at my little garden and admired the bright red fruit of the fair Juliet. (What a wonderful variety of tomato!) Then I noticed something else not quite as admirable. The top of one of the plants looked as though it had been stripped of leaves.
“Now that looks suspicious,” I said to Clif.
“Maybe it’s just where you picked tomatoes.”
“Maybe,” I replied, but I was not convinced and decided to keep an eye on things.
A couple of nights later, my suspicions were confirmed—more stripped leaves. However, as it was my birthday, and Clif and I were enjoying cocktails on the patio, I was in no mood to go poking around the tomato plants and look for the culprit.
The day after that, I had dental work—at the crack of dawn by my standards—and I wasn’t in a mood to do much of anything, not even have a cocktail.
Today, I decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and look for the munching miscreant. It took me a while to find him (or her) but find him I did, in all his green and striped glory. (Fortunately, he seemed to be solo.)
At first, I thought he was a tomato hornworm, but upon doing research, I discovered he is, in fact, a tobacco hornworm. They look similar, but the tomato hornworm has a black “horn” and the tobacco hornworm has a red “horn.” Also, the stripes are a little different, with the tomato hornworn having more of a V pattern. The adult of both species is a large brown moth, again very similar in appearance. I also learned that, as a rule, tobacco hornworms are happy to eat tomatoes but don’t usually come this far north. (I’m convinced it’s that darned hot weather we’ve been having. Lord only knows what else is going to make its way north.)
Naturally, I had to take a picture, and I have to admit that a closer look led to a certain fascination—the red horn, the white and black stripes, and the small “eyes” dotting the side. And with that fascination came some sympathy. After all, the little creature is just trying to make a living, albeit on my tomato plants.
Sentiment, of course, has no place in the garden, and when I went out later to pick tomatoes, I had resigned myself to dispatching him. But, as I picked, I couldn’t find him anywhere, and eventually I gave up looking. I had a nice basket of tomatoes for a roasted sauce. (There will be a recipe tomorrow.)
And not to put too fine a point on it, but the tomato plants are not exactly looking their best. Every year, a late blight hits my tomatoes, and that’s exactly what has happened. Fortunately, the blight always comes after most of the tomatoes have ripened, so it’s not a serious problem. I’ve picked most of the tomatoes, and I’m thinking of pulling the plants.
I know. I shouldn’t let that tobacco hornworm live to create more tobacco hornworms, and I’ll probably go out again with a jar of soapy water.
But for today, anyway, the tobacco hornworm has had a stay of execution.
Addendum: Son of a biscuit! In doing further fact-checking about tobacco hornworms, I found out that the adult moth is no other than the hummingbird moth, which I adore. There’s been one fluttering among the flowers all summer, and I’ve been trying to take a picture of her. Guess I know where the little creature in the tomatoes came from.
Wordless Wednesday: Beautiful Coleus
My Birthday—A Day of Sun, Bright Blue Skies, and Gratitude
Today is my birthday, and what a beauty it is. I decided to give myself the day off—more or less—so that I could take pictures, have lunch at a Chinese restaurant a couple of towns over, and later have drinks on the patio with Clif.
Birthdays, especially as you get older—and at 57 58, I certainly qualify as older—are often a time of reflection. This birthday is especially significant as five years ago, almost to the day, I had surgery for breast cancer. I was lucky. My cancer was lazy—a good thing for cancer to be—and not aggressive. And here I am five years later, feeling ever so grateful to be writing and taking pictures, to be living in Winthrop at the little house in the big woods. Better still, I have a wonderful family and terrific friends.
This is not to say I don’t have worries and troubles. Of course I do. Everybody does. But all in all, I am one lucky woman.
Birthday Pictures:
A Trip to Rockland
Our vacation is over. Yesterday, we dropped off Dee at the bus station and bid her a sad farewell. We had a busy but oh-so-fun week, culminating with a Saturday trip to Rockland, which is on the Maine coast.
Once upon a time, say, when I was young, Rockland was what you might call a gritty place—my mother actually called it “tough.” There was a sardine factory right in town, and the harbor was a working waterfront. But then the factory closed, as so many did in Maine, and as an entry in Wikipedia puts it, “Since the early 1990s, Rockland has seen a shift in its economy away from fishery and toward a service center city.” In other words, Rockland had to reinvent itself.
Being on a lovely harbor helped. A lot. Those from away, as we Mainers call non-natives, were drawn by the area’s natural beauty, and many of those who settled in Rockland are affluent. The same is true for a lot of the tourists who come to visit.
Since the 1940s, the town has been anchored by the Farnsworth Art Museum, and gradually, over the years, art galleries followed. So Rockland went from being a gritty place to being an arty town, which, like so many things, has its pluses and minuses.
But in this post, I am not going to get into the pluses and minuses of what happens when a working-class town becomes arty. Instead, I’m going to share some pictures I took of the town and the lovely harbor. I do want to note that we saw a broad range of first-rate—albeit expensive—art. Yes, there were seascapes, but there were also abstract art, minimalism, and everything in between.
Here are some photos of Rockland.
Now it’s back to work as I try to catch up on all the things that were put on hold while Dee was here. (Library minutes, here I come!)
We Got the Beet!
A busy, busy week but a fun one. Dee is visiting from New York, and as she is a movie buff, we’ve made quite a few trips to Railroad Square Cinema in Waterville. They’ve had a terrific line-up of movies, and all four that we saw were good. (We saw Mr. Holmes, Mistress America, A Walk in the Woods, and Phoenix.)
With all this fun, there hasn’t been much time for blogging, but I did want to slip in a recipe, as promised. This week’s—a beet fajita—is a quick one that incorporates the egg technique used in the fried-rice recipe I posted a while back. That is, make a well in the center of the ingredients, pour in the beaten eggs, let the eggs set, scramble them, and blend them in with the rest of the ingredients, which have been sautéed until soft.
Like most fajitas, this one is easy to prepare, and it doesn’t have many ingredients—beets, corn, garlic, egg, and cheese. For a smoother flavor, I dry roast the garlic in a skillet before peeling and chopping the clove. (I also do this for any recipe that calls for raw garlic.)
Another good point about this recipe is that even if—ahem—beets are not your favorite vegetable, they are tasty prepared this way. These fajitas didn’t get a “pretty darned good” from Clif, but that is his highest praise reserved for only a few special dishes. The fajitas did, however, merit a “not too bad,” which means he liked it well enough to go back for seconds.
Not too bad, indeed, for a husband who is not too fond of beets.
Beet Fajitas
Makes 4 fajitas
Ingredients
- 1 medium raw beet, peeled and grated
- 1/2 cup cooked corn
- 1 egg, beaten
- 1 clove of garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil for sautéing
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 1/2 cup of grated cheese (Monterrey Jack is my favorite for fajitas.)
- 1/4 cup of chopped parsley, for a garnish (Optional)
- 4 fajita tortillas
Directions
- Heat the oil in a skillet. Add the corn and the grated beets and sauté until the beets are soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and sauté for 30 seconds.
- Make a well in the center of the ingredients. Pour in the beaten egg, let set, and then scramble. Once the egg is scrambled, mix it in with the beets, corn, and garlic.
- Warm the tortillas according to the directions on the package.
- Spoon the beet mixture into the tortilla shells and top with grated cheese. Sprinkle with parsley, if using.
- Rice is a good side for this meal.
Silent Saturday: September 5, 2015
Notes From the Hinterland 