Category Archives: People

A Christmas Surprise

December 18, 2014 Laurie Graves 1 Comment

Another gray day, but instead of rain there is light snow. This meant that the dog and I took to the woods this morning. Good for him and good for me. We are both homebodies, but there is a limit to how much we like staying inside the house. In the woods, after all the rain, the water was running—not very seasonal for Maine in December, but lovely in its own way.

Yesterday was a very productive day. I made ice cream pie, yeast bread, and cooked two pumpkins. Today, I’ll make the pumpkin bread. Count down to Christmas.

During this busy season, I got some news that made it even more exciting. I found out that Saranya, who is from Thailand and who stayed with us during her senior year in high school, will be coming to New York for ten days. I haven’t seen Saranya for seventeen years, not since she left Maine to return to Thailand.

Shannon and I are hoping to meet her in Boston for lunch and a long, long chat. Ever since I heard the news, I’ve hardly been able to think of anything else.

A walk in the woods, pumpkin bread, and the possibility of seeing Saranya. My day will just hum along. Life can bring many surprises, and what a nice thing when the surprise is good.

cooking, People, Recipes

Cheddar Cheese Soup and a Gathering of Friends

December 16, 2014 Laurie Graves 5 Comments

Last Saturday, we had two sets of friends over for dinner, and it was one of those special gatherings that brings a happy glow to the cook. We’ve known these friends for many, many years. Our daughters are the same age and graduated from high school together. So perhaps part of the reason for the glow was that we are all so comfortable together.

Then there was the beer and wine. Clif had an assortment of beer from Craft Beer Cellar in Portland, where our son-in-law works. Craft Beer Cellar sells hundreds of different kinds of beer, which has become as specialized as wine. Not all of our guests are beer lovers, but the ones who do like beer were impressed with Clif’s selection. For the wine lovers, there was a nice bottle of a white wine called Viognier, from Meridians in Fairfield. There’s nothing like good wine and beer to bring a happy glow to a party.

Flickering candles and a tree with blue Christmas lights provided an actual glow in the little house in the big woods. While perhaps they weren’t essential, candles and tree surely set the stage for the food and the wine.

The centerpiece of the meal was cheddar cheese soup—creamy and rich and adapted from a Moosewood recipe. This soup is a favorite with the family, and it’s one I make for the holidays. For gatherings, I put the soup in a crock-pot, and nearby I have big bowls of cooked broccoli and tortellini so that guests can serve themselves. That way, they can have exactly how much they want of the soup, broccoli, and tortellini.

“Very, very good,” was the consensus about the soup. There were seconds for some of our guests and requests for the recipe. Now that surely brings a glow to the cook’s cheeks because one of the chief delights of cooking is to feed and please people.

To add to the meal there was also the brie appetizer that one friend brought and the chocolate and coconut squares from another friend. Surely they contributed to the happy mood of the party.

In the end, I truthfully I can’t say whether it was the beer, the wine, the candles, the soup, the appetizer, or the dessert that made this gathering such a success. Whatever it was, there were kisses and hugs as everyone left and a promise to get together after the holidays.

All in all, it was some party, as we Mainers like to say.

Cheddar Cheese Soup Recipe
(Six hearty servings by itself; Eight with the addition of broccoli and pasta)

10 medium size potatoes, peeled and diced
2 large carrots, peeled and chopped
1 large onion, chopped
2 tablespoons of oil
2 large cloves of garlic, cut in thirds
6 cups of water
2 teaspoons of dried dill
8 ounces of cream cheese, sliced in four or five segments
2 cups of grated cheddar cheese (Go for a good, sharp brand and please do not buy the pre-shredded cheese. The taste of this soup hinges on the quality of the cheddar.)
Salt and pepper to taste. (I use two teaspoons of salt and liberal grinds of the pepper mill.)

In a large stockpot, heat the oil and sauté the potatoes, carrots, and onion for 5 minutes or so. Add the garlic and sauté for 30 seconds, then add the water and the dill. Let simmer for 45 minutes or an hour, until all the vegetables are really soft.

If you don’t have an immersion blender, buying one before you make this soup would be a very good idea. Immersion blenders are not expensive and are ever so much easier to use than one with a glass container. Directions for an immersion blender: Place the stockpot in the sink and blend the potatoes, carrots, garlic, onion, and water. When this is smooth, add the cream cheese in chunks and blend until smooth. Return the pot to the stove and on a medium heat, add the cheddar, salt, and pepper. At this point, the soup must be kept warm enough so that it is hot but low enough so that it doesn’t boil. No matter how careful you are, it will probably develop a skim on the top. No need to worry. Just stir it into the rest of the soup, and the skim will melt.

Directions for a blender with a glass container: In four batches, blend the potato, carrots, onions, garlic, water with a slice of cream cheese that has been quartered. Be sure not to fill the container too much and to cover the top with some kind of cloth as you blend. This soup is hot, and it will burn you if it spurts out the top and onto your hand. I speak from experience from my pre-immersion blender days.

Any kind of pasta can be added to this soup as well as broccoli. I serve them on the side so that the pasta and broccoli don’t swell or get too mushy in the soup.

Happy holidays and happy anytime that you have this soup.

cooking, People

Thanksgiving approaches and so does the storm

November 26, 2014 Laurie Graves

Early afternoon at the little house in the big woods. It is snowing. The storm started, ever so slowly, when the dog and I were on our walk, and by the time we came home, Liam’s back was wet with snow.

As far as preparations go, everything is right on track. The green bean casserole, minus the butter-crumb topping, is ready. (The butter-crumb topping will be sprinkled on top just before the casserole goes in the oven.)

Green bean casserole, made with Farmer Kev's frozen beans — Green bean casserole, made with Farmer Kev’s frozen beans

The sweet potato casserole—complete with a brown sugar, butter, flour, and nut topping—is ready.

And so is the gravy, cold and solid now from having been in the refrigerator. But it will heat up to a lovely consistency, and how nice to have this piece of Thanksgiving done ahead of time.

To further add to Thanksgiving convenience, Shannon has borrowed an electric roaster, which she will use for the turkey, thus freeing the oven for the various casseroles and dishes that need to stay warm. I’m not sure it would be worthwhile to buy an electric roaster—most meals during the year don’t include so many different side dishes—but the roaster certainly makes life easier on Thanksgiving.

I have several more items on my to-do list: make homemade bread, vaccuum the house, and make peanut butter balls—Clif will help with these when he gets home. Have I planned too much? I usually do.

Finally, Dee was unable to change her travel plans. She anticipates no problems on the train from New York to Boston. The touchy part will be with the bus from Boston to Portland. To hedge her bets, she’s booked a seat on the Downeaster, which for some crazy reason doesn’t offer any trains between 5:40 p.m. and 11:00 p.m. What’s up with that?

Now, if only Dee can make it safely to Maine.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, and I hope those who are traveling reach their destinations safely.

Community, Food for Thought, People

Thank You, Farmer Kev

November 20, 2014 Laurie Graves 4 Comments

Frozen vegetables and a Farmer's Cookbook — Frozen vegetables and a Farmer’s Cookbook

Thanksgiving might not be here yet, but yesterday felt like Christmas at the little house in the big woods. Our own Farmer Kev has started a winter CSA (community supported agriculture) program, and we received our first delivery yesterday. Oh, the vegetables Farmer Kev brought—garlic; micro-greens and arugula; bean sprouts; romaine lettuce; broccoli; squash; potatoes; frozen green beans as well as other frozen vegetables. He even included a Farmer Kev cookbook.

Such an abundance, and all grown in the Winthrop area, only miles from where I live. And, to top it off, Farmer Kev delivers.

Last night, Clif and I had fresh salads made with Farmer Kev’s greens. There was such a variety of greens that aside from the bean sprouts and some sunflower seeds, no other ingredients were needed.

I’m going to be honest—Clif and I had to scrape to come up with the money for the winter CSA, but yesterday’s delivery confirmed that this was money well spent. Not only are we getting vegetables that are fresh, fresh, fresh, but we are getting them close-by from a region not plagued by drought.

Best of all, perhaps, is that we are supporting a hard-working young farmer who is trying to make a go of it. Farming is not an easy way to make a living, and the high price of land makes it especially difficult for young farmers. With climate change bringing many, many challenges to this country, to this world, Maine needs a lot more farmers like Kevin. In the years ahead, they might be instrumental in feeding the state.

Farms and farmers don’t spring up over night. They take years to develop, and along the way, those farmers need our support. Our own contribution may be small, but Clif and I are doing what we can to help local farmers.

This Thanksgiving my gratitude goes to Farmer Kev, to his parents, and to everyone else who has picked, weeded, cleaned, and frozen.

People, Recipes

A Macaroni and Cheese Tale

November 13, 2014 Laurie Graves

I have a husband who really, really loves macaroni and cheese. By his own admission, Clif could eat it once a week—twice, actually, if you consider leftovers, which we certainly do at the little house in the big woods. Over the years, I have developed a simple but tasty recipe that includes using a good tangy cheddar, a bit of nutmeg, and a fairly thin cheese sauce that will allow the macaroni to swell and still be saucy. Fresh bread crumbs for the top? But of course!

Because the macaroni and cheese is baked, I seldom make it during the summer. But summer is over, and as soon as fall came, Clif began hinting that he might like macaroni and cheese for supper. Soon, I promised, soon. Somehow, though, when fall came, I made other things for supper, and macaroni and cheese never made it on the menu. Until last night.

Every once in a while, procrastination is a good thing. A couple of weeks ago, from none other than Mario Batali, I picked up a good tip for making a white sauce, which always requires a fair amount of constant stirring. (When you have creaky knees, cutting down on stirring time is a good thing.) His suggestion was so simple that I wondered why in the world I hadn’t thought of it myself. That is, heat the milk so that it is hot before adding it to the flour and butter roux.

Last night, I fulfilled my promise to Clif and made macaroni and cheese for supper. I heated the milk, as Batali suggested, and it worked like a chahm, as we Mainers would say. The heated milk cut the stirring time in half, and my knees were grateful.

When it was done, I said to Clif, “Use some restraint. I want enough mac and cheese for two suppers.”

“Fat chance,” Clif promptly responded. “I have been macaroni-and-cheese deprived for too long.”

I couldn’t argue. After all, I hadn’t made macaroni and cheese since spring. Clif, however, did use some restraint, and we have enough left for our supper tonight.

And the next time I make a white sauce, you can bet I’ll use Mario Batali’s tip of heating the milk first.

Here is my recipe for macaroni and cheese. Although I have posted it a couple of times, I figured that for new readers it would be convenient to post it again.

Macaroni and Cheese

9 oz. of uncooked macaroni
2 1/2 cups of milk, heated
2 cups of grated cheddar
3 tablespoons of butter
3 tablespoons of flour
1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg
1 teaspoon of salt
1/4 teaspoon of pepper

Butter a casserole dish. Cook the macaroni until firm in a big stock pot. Drain when done, and pour the macaroni into the casserole dish. In a big sauce pan, using medium heat, melt the butter, add the four, and whisk until bubbly. Whisk in the hot milk, the salt, pepper, and nutmeg, and then stir until thickened. The sauce is done when it leaves a line across the back of a wooden spoon. Add the cheese and stir until smooth.

Pour the cheese sauce over the macaroni. This mixture will look very thin, almost like a soup, but I promise it will bake into a perfect mac and cheese. I always like to tear up a few pieces of bread into crumbs for the top. Bake at 350° for 30 minutes or until the mixture is bubbly at the edges.

Food for Thought, People

An Apple Crisp Kind of Weekend

November 10, 2014 Laurie Graves 4 Comments

This weekend was a busy one where we visited with friends and family on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. And with each visit we had apple crisp—two that I made and one that our friend Judy made.

“Too much apple crisp?” I asked Clif before making the second one to bring to Shannon and Mike’s home.

“I could eat apple crisp every day,” Clif promptly replied.

Quick as can be, out came the apples, cinnamon, cloves, butter, sugar, and flour. I use a recipe from an old New York Times cookbook, and it has a pleasing ratio of crunch to spiced apples.

Judy, on the other hand, used oats in her topping, and Clif and I concurred: When it comes to apple crisp, it’s all good.

On all three visits, we talked about the election, and everyone was as broken hearted as we were about the results. This post, I hope, will be one of the last where I dwell on the election. I much prefer writing about rural life and environmental issues. The people in this country and this state have voted, and I have to regain my balance. Moping and being depressed serve no purpose.

Still, I am moping, and I am depressed. Last night I even dreamed that Winthrop had been captured by Nazis, and that I was a prisoner. What a relief to wake up!

Now, I know it is a cheap shot for my unconscious to equate the current political situation to Nazi Germany. But the unconscious is not subtle, and it goes where it will.

Soon, I hope, this country, this world, will wake up to the fact that we are running out of resources, that climate change makes the situation even worse, and that we are heading for some very rough times if we don’t learn to work together, on both a personal level and on a political level. Once upon a time—say, two hundred years ago—there might have been some merit in the rugged individual pulling himself (or herself) up by the bootstraps. But those days are gone, and many of the problems we face are too big for individuals to tackle on their own. From medical care and research to public transportation to alternative energy—to name a few—we need an active government leading the way and providing subsidies for worthwhile projects that will help people and the planet. (On the other hand, do the oil companies, which make huge profits, really need tax breaks? )

As Kurt Vonnegut might say, “So it goes.”

And so it does.

People

“Making” Paper at Dragonfly Studio

October 16, 2014 Laurie Graves 4 Comments

Last Saturday, Clif and I went to Readfield to visit Dragonfly Studio, which was participating in Maine Craft Weekend and was therefore hosting an open studio. Tom and Christine Higgins—a painter and paper maker, respectively—share the studio near their home in Readfield. Dragonfly Studio is tucked into the woods and overlooks a distant, glimmering Torsey Lake. A studio with a view, that’s for sure.

First we looked at Tom’s paintings—vibrant landscapes, some of which were painted right outside Dragonfly Studio. Clif and I both liked Tom’s work very much, and if our budget were bigger, then there is a high chance a painting would have come home with us. There was one, in particular, that really caught my attention—an autumn painting with a bright blue sky and brilliant flashes of fall leaves. (We did, however, buy a pack of Chris’s lovely cards, one of which will be used for a wedding card this week.)

Then we looked at Chris’s work—prints, fiber containers, sculpture, and paper on panels. After we admired her work—earthy yet snappy and appealing—she asked, “Do you want to make some paper?”

Why not? I’ve never made paper before. We went outside where Chris had a large pan of water with floating fiber that had been ground in a big machine she keeps in a nearby storage shed. The main fiber was sweet Annie, but Chris had something else mixed with it. Unfortunately, I foolishly didn’t take notes, and I don’t remember what else was used.

I donned a big plastic apron, and with my hands, I swished the fibers back forth, as instructed. When the water was sufficiently churned, a screen was dipped to catch the fibers and strain the water. I lifted the screen, and by gum, I could see the birth of paper unfold before my admiring eyes.

The newborn paper was tapped onto newspaper and blotted. (In one sense, it remind me a bit of working with pie dough.) And given to me, still wet, to take home.

“What am I going to do with it?” I mused, not wanting this beautiful, fragrant paper to be stored on a back shelf and forgotten.

“You could write on it or cut into shapes,” Chris suggested.

I could. Or I could try to make a fiber container. I really admired Chris’s, which were filled with dried flowers.

“I could mould it over a plant pot,” I said.

“There’s not enough paper,” Chris said. She gave me two small plastic cups. “Try these.”

And that’s exactly what I did when I got home. I wrapped the wet paper around the cups, crimped the edges a bit, and tied a bit of twine around the bottom, both for looks and to hold its shape. Even wet, my little fiber container looked really good. Perhaps not as good as one of Chris’s, but good enough for me, especially on my first try.

Over the next day or two, I diligently checked my little fiber container as though it were an incubating egg. (It was in the guest bedroom, with the door closed to keep out curious cats.) Every so often, I would touch the container gently, to see if it was dry. When it seemed dry enough, out came the plastic cups, and there was my fiber container, just the right shape and just waiting for a small bottle with some dried clippings from the garden.

Not only was I very, very pleased with how my container came out, but I started thinking of ways to make them on my own, not from scratch, the way Chris does, but in a more streamlined way with pretty paper and paper mache. Clif even suggested using brown paper bags.

We’ll see. In the meantime, thanks to Chris’s generosity, I have my own fiber container, and every time I go by, I gently touch it and admire it.

Animals - especially dogs, People

Columbus Day, 2014: Grilled pizza, Rice Krispies Squares, Yellow Jackets, and Shots in the Woods

October 14, 2014 Laurie Graves 1 Comment

Yesterday, Columbus Day, was sunny and warm, a perfect day for a visit from Shannon and Mike and their two dogs—Holly and Samara. Because of his work schedule, we haven’t seen Mike for quite a while, not since he started his new job at Craft Beer Cellar. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to state that Mike is a beer connoisseur, and he has developed quite a discriminating palate. He is currently studying to get his cicerone certification, at which point Mike will be a true beer expert.

As I listened to Mike talk about the various types of beer he has tasted and sells, it occurred to me that beer has become as nuanced—and as pricey!—as wine. We’ve come a long way from the days when there was a limited selection of beer at the grocery store, and Heineken was pretty much as good as it got.

Full disclosure: I really don’t like beer at all, and if someone insisted I drink a whole glass, it would be hard to maintain a pleasant expression. Nevertheless, it was fascinating to hear Mike talk about his new job, which he loves, and all the aspects of beer. On the other hand, Clif likes beer, and every time Mike comes, he brings a different variety for Clif to sample. Clif and Mike both know that beer is best enjoyed in moderation, and they never have more than two bottles each any time we get together. On our next trip to Portland, Clif will visit Mike at Craft Beer Cellar, get the official tour, and, of course, buy some beer. Shannon, who also doesn’t like beer, and I will stay behind and take the dogs for a walk.

On Monday, because the day was so fine, we had planned to spend most of it on the patio, but unfortunately, yellow jackets have taken up residency in one of my gardens out front. As soon as the beer, flavored water, chips, and dip came out, the yellow jackets joined us. It’s not much fun swatting yellow jackets and trying to avoid being bitten, so in we went to finish appetizers in the dining room.

However, grilled pizza was on the menu, so we went out with Clif while he grilled it, to keep him company. All of the sweet food stayed inside, and the yellow jackets didn’t bother us much at all. We ate the pizza inside, and when it was done, we decided to try having dessert on the patio. It was late afternoon, and significantly cooler than when we had started with appetizers. We figured it was too chilly for the little biting buzzers.

Our hunch about the yellow jackets was right. It was too cool for them to be buzzing about, and they left us alone as we drank tea and ate Shannon’s Rice Krispies treats. Spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg, layered with roasted marshmallows, and dipped in chocolate, these were certainly deluxe Rice Krispie Treats, and they were utterly delicious. Clif and I couldn’t stop with just one.

As we finished dessert, we heard a blast of gunfire from the woods. It’s bird hunting season, and someone was out there trying to rustle up the ultimate free-range supper. Hearing gunshots so close is always disconcerting, and the sound of gunfire set the dogs off into a chorus of barking. Holly, in particular, has a deep, guard-dog bark, and she was quite concerned.

“Let them bark,” I said. “That way, the hunter will know he is not far from a house.”

“This is the one time of year I’m glad I don’t live in the woods,” Shannon said.

I understand how she feels. I don’t like hearing gunshot, either, especially when it’s close. But we’ve lived here for thirty years, and so far no bullets have come whizzing toward the house. When deer season is upon us, I dress in orange and bring the radio outside, cranking it as loud as it will go on a classic rock and roll station. I want hunters to know we are here.

Pizza, Rice Krispies treats, yellow jackets, gun shots. No one was bitten, no one was shot. The food was good, and the company was even better. I would have to say the good definitely outweighed the bad, but I’ll be glad when the yellow jackets go away, and hunting season is over.

People

A Visit from Darling Baby

October 10, 2014 Laurie Graves

There are two darling babies whose lives I follow on Facebook, and they are both under a year old. The babies are the children of young women I have known since they were little girls. It is such a pleasure to watch them become parents and to see the development of their own daughters.

One darling baby lives two states away, and this unfortunately means that I don’t see her very much. But her father, who is a stay-at-home dad, is a fine photographer, and I have the pleasure of seeing many pictures of darling baby as well as some videos.

The other darling baby only lives twenty minutes away, which means I see her on a fairly regular basis. Beth, her grandmother and my friend, has retired and is taking care of this particular darling baby while the parents work. Lucky parents to have such a loving, competent, and energetic person to take care of their child.

Today Beth and darling baby are coming over for a visit. It’s a fine day, and we’ll be taking a walk to the Narrows. We’ll make quite a procession—Beth, darling baby in her carriage, Liam on his leash, and me.

I’ll be making muffins, either bran or chocolate—I haven’t decided. After the walk we’ll come back for muffins and cider. Darling baby can’t crawl yet, and I won’t have to use the child gates to stop her from tumbling down the cellar stairs, which are open. But that day is soon coming, and when it does, we’ll barricade ourselves in the living room, where all breakable things will be moved to higher ground. Babies love to grab, and it seems to me that the best solution is to just move everything out of reach. That way, there is less fussing and less chance of darling baby breaking something.

I can’t wait until darling baby is old enough for a snack of her own—animal crackers or some other little treat that her parents approve of. I’ll have them ready for her. I might even nip a couple myself.

One of the good things about having animals is that it really doesn’t matter how many crumbs or uneaten pieces of cookies fall on the rug and floor. I’ve cleaned up worse. Much worse.

But having animals means I have to vacuum frequently, and off I go to get the house ready for darling baby and her grandmother.

A wonderful start to what promises to be a beautiful weekend.

Nature, People

Some Thoughts on a Mostly Gray October Day

October 3, 2014 Laurie Graves

A chilly, gray October day. Yesterday, thinking it would be sunny—as forecasted—I foolishly hung laundry on the line. Let’s just say that the laundry is still a little damp, and if it’s that way by the end of the day, I will take the clothes off the line and put them on racks in the basement. I’m also cancelling my plans to go on an afternoon bike ride. Too cold! Instead, I’ll spend some time on the exercise bike as I listen to the Diane Rehm show and her Friday round-up of the news.

No doubt some of that round-up will include a discussion of the man who brought the Ebola virus to Texas. I try not to get too anxious about the virus, but I must confess that the Ebola virus, like flesh-eating bacteria, completely freaks me out. In the global world we live in, it was and is inevitable that the disease should spread. I only hope our medical system is better able to cope with it than the systems in West Africa. If ever a case could be made for a strong, concerned, and humane government to become involved in the welfare of its people, then this is it.

Pushing thoughts of Ebola virus away, I am planning ahead for the weekend. Tomorrow morning, Clif and I will be going to Railroad Square to screen a movie—The Longest Distance, a Venezuelan film. Clif and I are part of a committee that plans and hosts a film series called Cinema Explorations. Either at home or at Railroad Square, we watch screeners that have been sent to Railroad Square and then discuss our reactions through email and meetings. Clif and I have been on this committee for about ten years, and we so enjoy the whole process of watching, discussing, sometimes arguing, and then selecting six movies that we hope will appeal to the general public.

After the movie, we have to zip back home so that I can make an apple pie for a potluck we’re attending. Our friend Margy, who throughout the year hosts potlucks at her home, is hosting this one for Craig Hickman, who is running to be reelected to the Maine house for District 82, which comprises Winthrop and the neighboring town of Readfield. Craig will be bringing signs, and we’ll gladly take one to put on our lawn.

When Craig ran two years, against a very nice man who is from the area, I wasn’t sure if he would win. Craig is most definitely “from away” as we say in Maine, and I wondered how clannish Winthrop and Readfield would be. However, Craig, who is both outgoing and hard working, soon become involved with the community—with the soup kitchen, with Rotary, with the Theater at Monmouth, to name a few organizations. To know Craig is to like and respect him, and although he is a Democrat, he appeals to both parties and, of course, to Independents.

How nice to live in a town where both parties are respected, and voters frequently vote for candidates who are not in their party. This tolerance, along with the natural beauty of the area, is one of the things I especially love about Winthrop.

As I finished writing this piece, the sun came out. Maybe there is hope for my laundry after all.

Notes From the Hinterland