Tomorrow, my husband, Clif, and I will be heading to New York City for the weekend. As the title of this post indicates, we will be visiting our daughter, and we will also be checking out lower Manhattan and Occupy Wall Street. Being in the 99 percent that lately has gotten such short shrift from the top 1 percent, my husband, my daughter, and I feel a strong solidarity with this movement, and we all hope that positive change will come as a result of the protests. Our very own “Arab Spring,” so to speak. (Even though it’s fall.)
I had heard of OWS’s food tent, which accepts donations so that those who protest can eat without spending a lot of money. Since I would be making anise biscotti to bring to my daughter, I decided to make a double batch so that I could give some to the protesters. It’s not much, but it will be a little homemade contribution from Maine. I plan on taking pictures of this tent, and I hope to talk to a few people there to get a sense of what it’s like to be part of the protest and to feed so many people.
After that, we’ll to head to Chelsea Market with its many food vendors. I’ve read great things about this market, and I’ve wanted to go for a long time. If time and the weather allow, we’ll walk the High Line. If not, we might move on to a movie and dinner. Or go through some of the art galleries in Chelsea. Or browse at the Strand Bookstore.
It’ll all be grand, as the Irish might say, and I’ll be reporting back next week.
In yesterday’s post, I wrote about a Winthrop Food Matters meeting I went to at Margy and Steve Knight’s house in Winthrop, and I focused on some of the issues that are involved in feeding a community. Today, I want to touch on a less tangible role that food plays (or should play) in all our lives, and that is the role of fellowship.
Before going over to the Knights, I had gone on an eight-mile bike ride, and the day was brisk, typical of late fall in Maine. When I went into the Knights’ house, there was a wood fire burning in the little wood stove in their large kitchen. We were all invited to sit around the table. Steve made tea. I had brought homemade crackers and an olive and rosemary cream-cheese spread. JoEllen Cottrell, the executive director of the Winthrop Food Pantry, brought a walnut cake. Jenn Currier brought bread, and Margy had warm apple sauce simmering on the stove.
In that cozy kitchen—is there any better heat than that which comes from a wood fire?—as I sipped my green tea with honey, ate some walnut cake, and watched as the others dug into my crackers and cream cheese spread, I felt warm and relaxed, happy to be sharing food with these people who cared so much about feeding others.
Craig Hickman, who runs Annabessacook Farm Bed & Breakfast, is temporarily hosting the town’s Hot Meals Kitchen, and the food is served as take-away. Previously, the dinners were held at St. Francis Xavier Hall, where people could sit down and visit with one another as they ate. Craig is an accomplished cook, and I’m sure the take-away food is delicious, but he told us that people really miss the fellowship they had with each other when they ate together in the hall. (With any luck, the Hot Meals Kitchen will soon be back in the hall.)
Food nourishes the body, but it also feeds the soul. Eating together is immensely satisfying, and I suspect this is why so many holidays and celebrations revolve around food. (As long as we don’t eat as though every day is a holiday, these occasional indulgences will do our diets no harm.)
In her review of Richard Wrangham’s Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human, Christine Kinneally writes, “But what if the roots of who and what we are lie not in this restless and raw state of nature but in our discovery of the secret to a more sedentary life: the home-cooked meal? That is the bewildering, but brilliant, idea proposed by Richard Wrangham, a Harvard-based biological anthropologist.” According to Wrangham, cooking food in fire brought to early humans all kinds of changes, both physical—smaller jaws and stomachs—and psychological—the notions of trust and companionship that come with sharing a meal.
So let us gather around the table as often as we can, with family, friends, coworkers, and members of our communities. Everybody can bring something, and if you really want to impress the crowd, bring these homemade crackers along with a spread. Somehow, making crackers seems like a process best left to big manufacturers, but in truth, although they are a bit time consuming, these crackers are a snap to make. They also keep well in a tin, which means they can be made well ahead of time.
Homemade Crackers
Adapted from a recipe by Mark Bittman
Last Sunday, after a chilly October bike ride along Lake Maranacook and its russet-colored shores—somehow we have skipped the blazing colors this year—I rode to Margy and Steve Knight’s house for a Winthrop Food Matters meeting. Various members of the community came to the meeting, and they all were concerned about community, good food, and resilience.
Patrice Putman, who works as director of employee development at MaineGeneral Health, moderated the meeting, and the first issue raised was food insecurity in our community. I have volunteered at the Winthrop Food Pantry for 13 years, and JoEllen Cottrell, the Food Pantry’s new executive director, was at the meeting as well. In addition, Craig Hickman, of Annabessacook Farm Bed & Breakfast, was there. His farm sponsors a private food pantry and is also the temporary home of Winthrop’s Hot Meals Kitchen, which serves free meals on Wednesday to anyone who wants dinner. (Until recently, the Hot Meals Kitchen had been in St. Francis Xavier Hall, which belongs to and is adjacent to the town’s Catholic church. Why the Hot Meals Kitchen is no longer there is a long story worthy of its own post.)
JoEllen, Craig, and I had all come to the same conclusion—due to the horrible economy, more and more people are struggling and therefore need our services. At the same time, inexpensive food from places such as the Good Shepherd Food Bank in Auburn is becoming harder and harder to get. This, in turn, puts a huge strain on the budgets of food pantries and hot meals kitchens as they must buy more of their food at full price from conventional grocery stores. (The lack of food from The Good Shepherd Food Bank, which has been Winthrop Food Pantry’s mainstay for as long as I’ve volunteered there, would be another subject worthy of an entire post on this blog. ) Craig Hickman put it succinctly: “The excess in the system is drying up.”
From there the discussion turned to having a licensed commercial kitchen in Winthrop, where donated fruit and vegetables could be processed and then given to the Hot Meals Kitchen and to the Winthrop Food Pantry. (Because of federal guidelines, the Food Pantry is unable to accept food canned or preserved by home cooks. Such food must come from a licensed commercial kitchen.)
Various homes for the Hot Meals Kitchen were discussed, from the Winthrop Middle School to an abandoned factory in town to a new building on a piece of land. Craig spoke of how the board of the Hot Meals Kitchen voted to investigate having its own place. “That way, we can control our destiny. We won’t be beholden to anybody,” Craig said. Craig’s feeling was that if everything went according to plan, the Hot Meals Kitchen would soon be back in St. Francis Xavier Hall, giving the board time and space to pursue its goal of building a community center focused on food. (I must admit, I love this idea.)
By the time the meeting concluded, there were plans of action. Margy offered to do research about food processing for food pantries in other communities; JoEllen, of course, will be devoting her time and energy into keeping the shelves stocked at the Winthrop Food Pantry; Steve volunteered to check into the Middle School about the possibility of of having a commercial kitchen there; and Craig and I discussed writing a regular food column for our local paper—the Community Advertiser—so that we could bring various food issues to people’s attention as well as provide seasonal recipes.
Even though the Winthrop Food Matters meeting ended on an upbeat note and the mood throughout was positive, one thing is certain. When it comes to food matters, there are many angles to consider—politics, resources (both food and money), time, and energy. Yet what can be more important than the food we eat and how communities are fed? Our health and well being are inextricably twined with food.
But there are lots of reasons to be hopeful. In Winthrop, the interest in local food has never been greater. Thanks to the many farmers in the area, Winthrop grows some of its own food, and the community makes an earnest effort to provide food for those in need.
Now, onward!
(Tomorrow’s post will be Winthrop Food Matters: Part II—Food and Fellowship)
Late fall. The trees are shedding their leaves, and when I’m in the backyard, it no longer feels as though I’m being held by the green hand of the forest. The warm afternoons of early autumn are over, and there is a decided nip in the air. Stubbornly, I bundle up in fleece and still have lunch on the patio whenever the weather allows.
But sunny or not, the time is soon coming when it will be too cold to eat lunch on the patio, and both the dog and I will miss it.
Until then, I’ll brush the leaves off the table, wear my fleece, and push it as long as I can. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to squeeze in another week or so.
From AlterNet: Why are the Danes so happy? Is it because of income equality? Perhaps, but Danish chef Trine Hanhnemann has another theory: Part of the reason the Danes are so happy is because they cook so much, both for themselves and for friends. I think she might be on to something. Even something modest and simple like, say, chicken soup, can bring about a wonderful camaraderie. People like to be fed.
From the Associated Press: Apparently, Jon Bon Jovi understands that people like to be fed. He and his wife have opened a pay-what-you-can restaurant in New Jersey. The menu includes cornmeal crusted catfish and grilled salmon with soul seasoning. And if you can’t pay, then there are plenty of volunteer jobs available for you to earn your meal.
From the Portland Press Herald: Of course, to feed a lot of people, you need farms. But the high cost of land makes it difficult for young farmers to buy their own land. In Bowdoinham “George Christopher, a visionary farmer who has bequeathed his property to Maine Farmland Trust,” has begun leasing some of his land to young farmers. I can’t help, of course, but think of Winthrop’s own Farmer Kev and his desire to have a farm.
From inhabit: Think you can’t have a farm in the city? Think again. In cities, there are miles and miles of flat rooftops that get full sun. This slide show of one rooftop farm in New York City is nothing short of amazing.
Tuesday was a day that revolved around food and town. First, I rode my bicycle, Blue Beauty, to a Winthrop Food Pantry meeting where we discussed the ongoing problem of rising food prices. Simply put, cheap food is harder to get, and this, of course, is affecting all food pantries, not just the one in Winthrop. However, the Winthrop Food Party is lucky to have an energetic executive director, an equally energetic president, a board that is willing to work with them, and a supportive town. Despite the rising cost of food, the Winthrop Food Pantry will continue to provide good food to those in need.
After the meeting, I met my friend Claire for lunch at the Flaky Tart, a new little café that has opened in town. How I am beginning to love that place, and I am not the only one. Every time I go there, the tables are full, and there is a brisk business for takeout. Claire and I sat on the high stools at a table by the window, where we could see the comings and goings in downtown Winthrop, and I am happy to report that there were indeed people on the street.
For years, Winthrop, like many other towns, has struggled with a downtown that has seemed pretty lifeless. There were a few bright spots—Becky’s Second Time Around, a very nice consignment shop, and Apple Valley Books. The area phone company was also located downtown. I am happy to say that these three establishments are still there.
But lately, things seem to be picking up in downtown Winthrop. A few years ago, a branch of MaineGeneral Medical Center set up shop in an abandoned factory, and this has brought people back into town. Recently, a store called Potato took one of the empty storefronts and has since expanded to the adjacent space. Potato sells Maine crafts, and there is such a nice variety that it is just the place to go for a special gift for a special person. A little while after Potato went in, Pete’s Roast Beef came to town, and although the decor at Pete’s might be described as utilitarian, the place is very clean, the staff is friendly, and the roast beef sandwiches are incredible.
Now there is the Flaky Tart, a place so warm and pretty that it makes you want to linger over your soup or your quiche or your tea or your coffee. Claire and I have decided to meet there once a week, and perhaps other friends will join us.
“My mother taught me how important it is to support your community,” Claire said. “And when I give gifts or eat out, I always start in Winthrop.”
Good advice!
While we were eating, Rosa, one of the owners of the Flaky Tart, came over to show us a golden beet she had just cut in half. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked. “It’s from my garden.”
A golden beet
Indeed it was. I had never tasted a golden beet, and I wondered how it compared with traditional ones.
Rosa replied, “They are a little milder, a little sweeter. If you roast some of these, then who needs candy?”
Someday, I hope to try roasting golden beets.
After lunch, Claire and I went to Potato, where we both bought gifts for special people in our lives—our daughters.
I am planning to do as much holiday shopping as possible in Winthrop. In fact, when my daughter Dee, who lives in New York, comes home for Thanksgiving, I am hoping to persuade her to spend Black Friday shopping in Winthrop and to have lunch at the Flaky Tart.
Black Friday in Winthrop. It has a certain ring, doesn’t it?
On Saturday, team “A Good Eater” participated in the Walk for Hope, a fund raiser sponsored by MaineGeneral Medical Center for their breast cancer unit. My friend Alice Johnson, my daughter Shannon, and I were the original trio for team A Good Eater, and the three of us raised $678 for the walk. I had hoped we would raise at least $300, and I was absolutely thrilled by the generosity of family, friends, and coworkers. Many of the donations were small, and in my solicitation letter I wrote,”Times are hard, I know, but ‘many hands make the task light,’ and donations of $5 or $10 really add up.” Well, they certainly did, and I so appreciate the support we got. (Overall, the walk raised $95,000.)
The day of the walk was one of those glorious October days where the sky was a brilliant blue, the air was crisp but not cold, and it was a bit windy, but not unpleasantly so. At the walk, our team expanded to include Shannon’s husband, Mike; my husband, Clif, our dog, Liam; and our friend Debbie Maddi. Down the hill we surged, with about 800 other walkers, from the parking lot of Sam’s Club to the trails at the University of Maine at Augusta. There were lots of other dogs, huge swatches of pink, women, men, boys, girls, and babies. Just as I was last year, I was reminded of how breast cancer affects everyone, not just the women involved. When you consider that 1 in 8 women will get breast cancer, then that’s a lot of women and a lot of families.
With so much good company, the walk seemed to be over in a twink, and I could have walked twice as far. However, we still had lunch to enjoy together. On Friday, I had made chicken soup, cornbread, and brownies so that team A Good Eater could have a warm meal after the walk.
We have a relatively small house, but we are lucky to have a good size dining room and an old table that can be expanded. Around the dark table we all sat, eating soup and cornbread, and we didn’t talk about breast cancer at all. Instead we talked about movies, books, and, especially, libraries. Joel, Alice’s husband, was unable to join us for the walk, but he was free to come to lunch. He made the observation that many libraries constructed in the early 1900s were built to resemble sacred spaces, and we all nodded, agreeing how appropriate this was for a place that held books. On the other hand, Debbie Maddi spoke of the library in Ashland, Maine, where she grew up, and how even though it was over a hardware store, the library was still a beloved place. I noted that the same was true for my childhood library in Vassalboro, which was in an ice fishing shack with a small addition. Clif grew up in Bangor, where the stacks were so crowded and dangerous that patrons were not allowed in them—only the staff. But, oh what a collection!
Libraries big, libraries small. So many stories about the importance of libraries, of how they are places where everyone is welcome, and it doesn’t matter how much money you make or who your parents are. As long as you take good care of the books and return them in a timely fashion, you are welcome.
On this happy note, the meal ended, and we all agreed that this chicken soup luncheon should become a tradition after future Walks for Hope.
“And next year we’ll all bring something,” Alice said. “So that you don’t have to do all the cooking.”
From Yahoo! Health: Stay away from KFC’s Chunky Chicken Pot Pie. With over 80 ingredients, this pie is a nutritional nightmare.
From the New York Times: This piece by Mark Bittman is from a couple of weeks ago, but it is worth reading. Bittman writes about the cost of healthy eating vs. the cost of eating junk food. Even though I am a proponent of organic food, I especially like the following quotation: “In comparing prices of real food and junk food, I used supermarket ingredients, not the pricier organic or local food that many people would consider ideal. But food choices are not black and white; the alternative to fast food is not necessarily organic food, any more than the alternative to soda is Bordeaux.”
Again from the New York Times and again from Mark Bittman: In this piece, Bittman goes farther afield, so to speak, and writes about the Wall Street protests. Very much worth reading.
From the Portland Press Herald: Russ Parsons extols the virtues of hosting a party where there is a bruschetta bar. Count me in. Parsons also instructs readers in how to pronounce bruschetta: the ch is apparently always pronounced like a hard c in Italian, so the proper way to say it is “brew-SKET-a.” Now you know, and so do I.
From Epicurious: Growing rice in Vermont! I love potatoes as much if not more than the average person, but the thought of (relatively) local rice makes me almost dizzy with delight.
This summer, my husband, Clif, and I joined Farmer Kev’s CSA program. (Click here to read a piece from my archives about Farmer Kev.) Starting in June, each week Farmer Kev delivered—that’s right delivered—a crate of freshly picked, organic vegetables. How we loved it! I will admit that early in the season it was a challenge to keep up with the plethora of greens—spinach, lettuce, Swiss chard—but we rose to the challenge and found such good recipes that we’ll be making them again next year.
The deliveries stopped in September, and Clif and I both felt somewhat at a loss. After feasting on such wonderful organic abundance, we were both reluctant to go back to buying vegetables at the grocery store. Then I had an idea. Why not ask Farmer Kev if he would sell us some of his keeper crops—potatoes, squash, carrots, beets, and garlic—if he had a surplus? I asked, and he did.
So we ordered and bought 50 pounds of potatoes, 10 pounds of carrots, 10 heads of garlic, 10 pounds of beets, 4 pounds of green peppers, and a bushel of squash. Since we don’t have a root cellar, the potatoes and squash are stored in baskets in our bedrooms, which tend to be quite cool in the fall and winter. The carrots, peppers, and beets are squished in our refrigerator.
These vegetables will probably not see us through the winter, but they will at least take us part of the way through the season. Already, we are enjoying roasted squash with sage butter; baked potatoes sometimes served with just butter, sometimes stuffed with chili; carrot tarragon soup (Here’s the recipe!); and, of course, the garlic in many things. In Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian there is a beet gratin recipe that I’ll be trying, and I’ll be poking around for other dishes that feature beets. My friend Kate Johnson has enthused about the joys of roasted carrots, and we’ll soon be roasting some of Farmer Kev’s carrots.
Between the CSA and the extra vegetables, Clif and I paid Farmer Kev $290 this year, and we agree that this was money very well spent. Not only were those organic vegetables delivered to our doorstep, but they were also incredibly clean and fresh. (Apparently, Farmer Kev has quite the system for cleaning vegetables, and next year I hope to get pictures of it for the blog.)
While I plan to expand my own little gardens, I also know that there’s a limit to what I can grow on this shady lot. Someday, perhaps, we will open up the land so that we can get more sun. Nevertheless, I will certainly continue buying vegetables from Farmer Kev. Not only are we doing our part for local agriculture, but we are also eating pretty darn well.
This morning, I got on my bike—Blue Beauty—and pedaled to downtown Winthrop, about a mile away. I had arranged to meet my friend Judy Johnson at The Flaky Tart, a new, funky café that sells muffins, cookies, scones, whoopie pies, and light lunches. The Flaky Tart only has a few tables, but it’s such a warm place—both the atmosphere and the colors—that all kinds of people are meeting there for lunch or for tea and dessert.
Although Winthrop has more than its fair share of places to eat, The Flaky Tart, right in the middle of town, is just what this town needs as a comfortable meeting place for family and friends to gather. In fact, it seems to me that every town needs a café like The Flaky Tart to bring cohesiveness to its community, to make the town more than a mere collection of houses connected by roads. Or even worse, a place you only drive through to get someplace else.
I left home a little early so that I could check out the shops—we only have a few—and perhaps find some birthday and Christmas presents. My first stop was Apple Valley Bookstore, where I did indeed find a gift, which I won’t reveal as family members read this blog. I also found a book that might be a gift or might very well go on my own bookshelves. It’s called Patience & Fortitude: A Roving Chronicle of Book People, Book Places, and Book Culture by Nicholas A. Basbanes. In his prologue, Basbanes writes about Dr. Otto Bettmann, “the creator of a vast archive of photographic material that he had furnished” to publishers of all kinds. Bettmann was also an author and a musician.
Here is what Bettmann had to say about books: “The Chinese have a saying that one picture is worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I believe that one word can be worth a thousand pictures….only reading allows you to penetrate the world. That is the power of the book.”
Yes, it is, and a reminder that the life of the mind is just as important as the life of the physical world. This is not to say that one is superior to the other; merely that both are necessary for human creativity and understanding.
Now, with a quotation like that, how could I resist Patience & Fortitude, which, by the way, are the unofficial names of the lions outside the New York Public Library? Clearly, I couldn’t.
After the bookstore, I went to the Flaky Tart, where Judy was waiting for me, and I had tea and the sweetest little scone—gone in two bites—that I have ever had. The scone was a perfect late-morning snack, small enough so that it wouldn’t interfere either with lunch or with trying to lose weight.
I hadn’t even settled down with my tea when another friend—Debbie Maddi—came in. She had gone for a walk and wanted to see what the Flaky Tart was like. We all chatted a bit, and Debbie left.
Some more people I knew came in, and I must admit I just love being in a place where people drop in for a while before heading on their way.
Judy couldn’t stay long. She and her husband, Paul, are moving into a brand new home at the end of this week, and Judy had many things to do.
Off I went, to a shop called Potato, which sells Maine-made crafts, and I found several gift possibilities. Then, it was time for my daily bike ride, me and Blue Beauty zipping down Memorial Drive and by Marancook Lake, today a gray reflection of the sky. But along the edges of the lake, there were blazes of yellow and orange to brighten the overcast day.
A blog about nature, home, books, movies, television, food, and rural life.
Tomorrow, my husband, Clif, and I will be heading to New York City for the weekend. As the title of this post indicates, we will be visiting our daughter, and we will also be checking out lower Manhattan and Occupy Wall Street. Being in the 99 percent that lately has gotten such short shrift from the top 1 percent, my husband, my daughter, and I feel a strong solidarity with this movement, and we all hope that positive change will come as a result of the protests. Our very own “Arab Spring,” so to speak. (Even though it’s fall.)
