LUNCH WITH SHANE AT MIA LINA’S

On Wednesday, I walked into Winthrop to meet Shane, one of the town’s librarians, for lunch at Mia Lina’s. I am happy to report that spring has finally come to central Maine. The grass has turned a bright green, bird song fills the air, water rushes by in the ditches, and the maple trees are in bloom with lovely but modest red flowers. Spring is here, it is here. And even though the day was  gray and damp, the walk, filled with so much to look at and to see, was a pleasant one.

Mia Lina’s is a little pizza place on Main Street, but the food there is better than average. One of my favorite things to order is the chicken teriyaki salad, little chunks of nicely marinated chicken sprinkled over romaine lettuce mixed with other tidbits—cheese, peppers, and olives. A little drizzle of Italian dressing, and you have yourself a pretty good salad. I also love the Lina bread, fresh dough cooked with cheese and served with a side of tomato sauce for dipping. However, although I can eat a whole order by myself, I shouldn’t do so, and I only get Lina bread when I’m with someone who wants to share it with me.

Shane ordered the ravioli, which came with garlic bread, and he said it was tasty.

While the food was good, the conservation was terrific. Shane is about the age of my eldest daughter, but already he is a great conversationalist, a true gift that not everyone has. Shane talks, but he also listens, and because he is devoted to books and music, his mind is lively and interesting.

Along with a little personal chitchat, we talked about what we were reading. Shane just finished reading Swim Back to Me by Ann Packer. Shane spoke about how moved he was by this collection of two novellas and some short stories. As Shane described the opening novella and its two teenage protagonists, he certainly made me want to read it.

In turn, I told him about three books I’ve recently read, which all receive “stars” in my reading journal. The first is Elizabeth Tova Bailey’s The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, a short but soulful memoir about a debilitating pathogen Bailey contracted when she was young, and how, as an invalid, she found solace watching a snail a friend brought to her.

The second is Carl Safina’s The View from Lazy Point. Safina is a marine biologist who can write beautifully and affectingly about the oceans of the world. He also includes stern lectures about overfishing and global warming and controlling our appetites.

Then there is Joan Reardon’s As Always Julia: The Letters of Julia Child & Avis Devoto. The title is self-explanatory, and I hope to soon write a proper book review for this blog.

From there we moved to music—to the great singer/songwriters of the 1970s as well as the wonderful music of the 1990s.

All too soon it was time for Shane to go to the library to begin his shift and for me to return home for household chores.

But a little book and music talk can sure brighten a gray day.

SHANNON’S MOOSEWOOD BIRTHDAY MEAL

Salmon and riceOn Saturday, we celebrated our daughter Shannon’s birthday, and the tradition in our house is for the birthday “boy” or “girl” to choose whatever he or she wants for dinner. Shannon’s choice has remained steady for many years, and it is what she picked for this birthday—Asian fish packets, a recipe from one of my Moosewood cookbooks. This recipe can be made with any fish fillet—Shannon’s favorite is salmon—and it is simple but oh so good. You cook rice, make a soy sauce/ginger marinade, then on foil, put together individual packets of rice topped with fish and marinade. Close those little packets, put them on a cookie sheet, and bake for 20 to 25 minutes.

The tricky part is getting the marinaded fish and rice out of the packets so that the plated meal looks as elegant as it tastes. It’s best done with two people, and over the years, Clif and I have developed a technique where he scoops with a long spatula, and I slide the dinner plate under the fish and rice at what I hope is just the right moment.

The Moosewood cookbooks for my generation—late baby boomers—are what Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking was to an earlier generation. Just as American cooking “before Julia” was, shall we say, a little on the bland side, so was “before Moosewood” vegetarian cooking. In fact, there is a strikingly similar note between before Julia and before Moosewood. Not that there weren’t exceptions, but onion was about the only ingredient used for flavoring in both of the cooking eras before Julia and before Moosewood. No dill, no basil, very little garlic—heck, hardly any parsley. Forget about cilantro or chili peppers. And vegetarian cooking without spices is a pretty grim affair. Onion simply isn’t enough to overcome the bland heaviness of whole wheat flour and brown rice. It is from this time period that vegetarian cooking gained its bad reputation.

Then along came Moosewood Restaurant, which opened in 1973 in Ithaca, New York, and specialized in vegetarian cooking that was decidedly not bland and boring. It was as if they took Julia Child’s principles and applied them to vegetarian cooking—ingredients that were fresh and of high quality cooked with skill as well as with herbs and spices.

Moosewood is a collective, and on their web page, their description of the collective and the restaurant is very impressive. Do read it if you have a chance. I especially liked “[w]e recognize that we’re not all equally good at everything, nor do we have to be. We find ways to accommodate our differences and play to our individual strengths, while keeping opportunities open and accessible.” My philosophy exactly.

From the restaurant came the many cookbooks that guided my generation toward vegetarian cooking that was pleasing to the palate as well as good for the planet. I have three of their books, and I use them often.

According to their website, “Moosewood was named one of the thirteen most influential restaurants of the 20th Century by Bon Appetit magazine,” and this recognition is well deserved. Even though my philosophy is to stick close to home, I would love to make a pilgrimage to Ithaca to visit Moosewood. Perhaps I will someday.

In the meantime, we will cook from their wonderful cookbooks, not only once a year for Shannon’s birthday, but throughout the year as well.

Addendum: The recipe for the Asian Fish Packets can be found in the Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home, book we have featured in this post.

EARTH DAY POTLUCK

Earth day potluck foodYesterday was a busy day getting ready for the Earth Day potluck dinner sponsored by the Winthrop Green Committee. My husband, Clif, and I agreed to help with the dinner, and on Narrows Pond Road, it was a flurry of cooking and getting things ready—quiche, chili, apple crisp, napkins, cups, pitcher for water. The list goes on, but I will stop.

For the quiche’s crust, we bought whole wheat pastry flour, made from wheat grown in Maine, and yesterday was the first time I have ever made a crust with anything other than unbleached flour. Although I prefer the taste of unbleached flour (we couldn’t find any that came from Maine),Earthday potluck I was pleased with the results. The crust had the “heavy” taste that comes with whole wheat flour, but it was flaky, and it actually meshed nicely with the smoky cheddar cheese quiche. However, rolling the dough was not easy. This flour does not have the elasticity of unbleached flour. A novice pie maker would have been saying more than a few bad words while rolling out the crust, which had a tendency to tear and stick. Fortunately, I have rolled out many, many pie crusts in my time, and I was able to produce a decent-looking crust, albeit with a few patches.

PiesBetween 25 and 30 people came to the potluck, and overall it was a success. The food was delicious—we “green beans” are good cooks. Along with what Clif and I brought there were mashed potatoes with goat cheese, a cabbage slaw featuring Maine apples; mussels; deviled eggs (one of my favorites); and lots of desserts. In fact, this potluck was dessert heavy, always a potential with a dinner where people bring what strikes their fancy rather than what they are assigned. Never mind! Dessert is good. I especially enjoyed Rose Dawbin’s pear cobbler made with the pears from a tree in her own backyard.

There were a few snafus, which inevitably come from the first time of organizing an event. If Clif and I help with next year’s Earth Day potluck dinner, we will keep them in mind. (No doubt, other little things will crop up. That seems to be the way of such things.)

After the dinner, we showed the movie Fuel, which was excellent. Really, one of the best environmental movies I have seen in a long time and one of the few that has really made me reconsider my position on an environmental matter—biofuel. Basically, the movie charts the filmmaker Josh Tickell’s personal commitment to biofuels—from the early days when it seemed like an unalloyed good thing to the present, where many environmentalists have turned against biofuels.

Tickell is still a fan of biofuels but acknowledges there is good biofuel—algae and fast-growing trees—and bad biofuel—corn. He makes a convincing case that it must be part of a green energy mix—that large mobile equipment such as tractors, trailer trucks, and planes simply cannot run on electricity. (We’re all waiting for Mr. Fusion, but until that day comes…)

The second realization I had while watching the film is that unlike the era of oil, which I hope will be ending soon, the next era (the green era?) will not have one major answer to take care of our energy needs. It will involve many components, ranging from conservation, solar, wind, geothermal, biking, walking, and yes, even biofuels. This is a radical departure from our current dependency on oil as a primary energy source. (There are other sources of fuel, but nothing is as portable and as powerful as oil.)

Finally, it struck me that right now, if we’re careful, with our current technology, we have the means to live sustainably and comfortably and reverse global warming. (Please note that by comfortably I don’t mean that we can consume mindlessly. We who live in rich countries absolutely need to conserve and control our “appetites.”) Other countries such as Germany and Sweden are showing how it can be done. Unfortunately, the oil companies have such a grip on this country that the battle for green energy will be long and hard as it involves subsidies and incentives from the government. And let’s just say that oil companies are not into sharing.

But we can do it. We have to do it. And I don’t think I’m overstating the case that it’s up to us–to me and you and the many—to be on the right side of history.

Anyway, if you get a chance, please do watch Fuel. It will boost your spirits. It will give you hope. It will encourage you to act. And, as I noted in a previous post, action encourages optimism.

 

 

EARTH DAY 2011

Earth Day is here, bright and sunny, and that means it’s my daughter Shannon’s birthday as well. Happy birthday, Shannon! How cool is it to have a birthday on Earth Day?

As I’ve noted in previous posts, I’m part of the Winthrop Green Committee, which celebrates Earth Week in a big way. My husband, Clif, and I are doing our small bit by helping with a mostly Maine Potluck Dinner to be held at Winthrop High School from 5 -7 p.m. This, of course, means that much of the day will be spent getting ready for the big event.

I’ve already written about how I plan to bring quiche and apple crisp, both of which will be made primarily with ingredients that come from Maine, thus qualifying them as “mostly Maine.” Clif is only working half the day so that he can come home and make a blast-your-head-off chili, using Maine beans and beef as well as hot, dried little red peppers from a friend’s garden.

Last night I went to Jenn’s house—she’s the prime organizer of Winthrop’s Earth Week—to gather pussy willows, hyacinths, and heather from her yard. Soon I’ll be making a few arrangements to go on the serving table. Her husband, James, very nicely cut all the clippings for me, and we had great help from their sweet little daughter, Sarah. For Clif’s chili, James also gave me two pounds of Maine beef donated by Farmers’ Gate Market in Wales, Maine. Thank you Jenn and James and Farmer’s Gate Market!

I also went to Craig Hickman’s farm to get eggs for the quiche. Craig and his partner run a bed and breakfast called Annabessacook Farm, which, as the name suggests, also has plenty of animals—hens, sheep, horses, and goats—as well as big gardens. I love buying eggs from people who have small flocks of hens that get to run and scratch outside and live good hen lives. Somehow, I just feel better when I eat eggs that come from hens that are well cared for.

Craig’s hens live this kind of life, as do my friend Monika’s hens. And when their hens are laying, I like to get my eggs from either Craig or Monika.

So off I go, to get ready for the big event. Happy Earth Day to all of you! And to paraphrase from A Christmas Carol, may you keep Earth Day in your hearts all through the year.

ACTION ENCOURAGES OPTIMISM

In yesterday’s post, I wrote about Mark Bittman and Ted Danson, both of whom are committed to the environment and to the well-being of our planet. Danson has no patience for pessimism, and Bittman noted that “[T]here is always plenty of good work to do.” I’d like to expand on this a bit, both, in general, with the environment, and in specific, with food, which is completely twined with the environment.

Within the environmental movement, there is, as a rule, an enthusiasm for action and projects, which can include gardening, cooking, buying locally, composting, and any other number of green activities. But sometimes “Sir Doubt” comes calling, causing environmentalists to wonder just how worthwhile personal action really is as Earth continues to heat up, plastic pollutes our seas, and the fish population plummets. It really is hard to argue that things are improving overall. (The local food movement is the bright exception.) Then comes the nagging question: What good can one person do?

What difference does it make if one middle-aged woman hangs her laundry, cooks from scratch, recycles, buys locally, limits how much she drives, and tries very hard to control her penchant for adding more clutter to an already full house? If I bring my own cup and fork to the Red Barn, a very casual local restaurant, how much, really, am I doing for the environment when everyone else is using plastic forks and cups, which get tossed into the trash? I will admit that at times I feel as though I am a lone salmon swimming upstream in a culture of carelessness and waste. And, yes, sometimes it can get discouraging.

But the other night, my husband, Clif, and I watched a documentary called Escape from Suburbia, a mostly mediocre movie with a few very good flashes, one of them being Guy Dauncey, a writer, speaker, and activist whose books have been endorsed by Bill McKibben and Jane Goodall. If Sir Doubt has visited Guy Dauncey, then he has been roundly vanquished by this ebullient environmentalist. In the film, Dauncey spoke of the “layering of solutions” that must be put together, that we need all kinds of people, with many different talents, to work on the vast problems that climate change and peak oil are bringing to this planet. Then he said something that really caught my attention. That is, “action encourages optimism.”

Dauncey is right. Doing things, however small, that are good for the planet can bring a feeling of optimism, a feeling of hope that maybe, just maybe, enough people doing the right thing will actually make a difference. And what’s the alternative, really? Giving in to pessimism? Saying, oh the hell with it, let’s just trash the planet and make it unlivable for our children and grandchildren?

No, this I refuse to do. Danson, Bittman, and Dauncey words and actions are examples for the rest of us to follow. On this advent of Earth Day, I will take their messages into my heart as I continue to hang out my laundry, recycle, and do all the other myriad of little actions that are not only good for Earth but also help spread optimism, something we will especially need as the planet continues to get warmer.

So readers, I hope you have a very optimistic Earth Day filled with environmental action that extends throughout the year.

BE BOLD. ASK QUESTIONS

In the opinion section of today’s New York Times, Mark Bittman’s column is about Earth’s oceans, which are endangered by overfishing and acidification. The overfishing speaks for itself, and those who love to eat fish must follow the actor Ted Danson’s advice to “Be bold. Ask questions.” It means that we have an obligation to to find out which restaurants serve fish that are not being overfished, that are caught sustainably. The same, of course, is true for the fish we buy at the grocery store. Sometimes we feel foolish doing so, and indeed, in a conversation with Mark Bittman, Ted Danson acknowledges that he sometimes feels foolish, too. But we must get past this embarrassment, which can extend to other green activities, such as bringing your own cup or spoon or napkin to places that serve ones that are thrown away. After all, why should we feel embarrassed about not using things that must be thrown away? But we do, and I have. It’s a strange world we live in.

However, I am digressing. Bittman’s second point about the acidification of oceans is perhaps less well known outside of “green circles.” Simply put, the CO2 that modern societies produce in such abundance not only leads to global warming and climate change, but also creates carbonic acid in the ocean, making it, well, more acidic. This is not good news for ocean life, especially for mollusks. The acidification makes it hard for them to build their shells, and what affects them “trickles up” to other marine life. Truly, everything is connected.

The link to the conversation with Ted Danson is included in Bittman’s column. It’s only five minutes long and well worth watching. Danson’s activism and optimism are inspiring. Indeed, Danson has no patience with those who are pessimistic. I was also moved by one of Mark Bittman’s comments: “There’s always plenty of good work to do.”

Yes, there is. And what better time to keep this in mind than during Earth Week?

 

EARTH WEEK BEGINS: THE MOVE TO SOUTH PORTLAND

Painting the dining roomYesterday, my husband, Clif, and I went to South Portland to help our daughter Shannon and her husband, Mike, paint their new apartment. As Clif put it, “We’re definitely doing our bit for Earth Week by helping them with their new apartment.” Yes, we are. Right now, Shannon and Mike’s daily commute is an hour from Farmingdale to Portland and then they must come back again, of course. While we will miss having them “right around the corner” in Farmingdale, South Portland is exactly where they should be. It is true we will now have to drive over an hour to visit them, but it will be once a month or so, much less than their current daily drive. A real savings in carbon emissions. So, clan Graves/Mulkeen is definitely doing its part for Earth Week.

Shannon and Mike’s new apartment fills the whole downstairs of a gracious old house. While the apartment needs painting and cleaning—not to put too fine a point on it, but the previous tenants were far from meticulous—it has wonderful bones, including a built-in China hutch in the dining room, French doors, wood floors, and a fireplace in the living room. The young landlord, who is also Mike’s cousin, had planned to spend a couple of months working on the apartment before renting it, but because Mike is his cousin, he let Mike and Shannon have it sooner. As it is, Mike’s cousin has done substantial renovations, including a new ceiling and a wall.

What a difference a coat of paint makes! In truth, even a coat of primer does a lot to brighten shabby walls. We painted the dining room and the living room, and we’ll be heading down tomorrow to give those rooms a second coat.

It hardly needs to be said that food opportunities abound in southern Maine. After all, not long ago, Portland won the Best Small Town Foodie Award (or something like that!) from Bon Appétit. While Portland might be Maine’s foodie epicenter, the foodie effect spills out to the surrounding communities and even, somewhat, to the rest of Maine. So while our main focus was definitely on the apartment, from time to time our minds did turn to food matters. A few days earlier, I had read about Scratch Baking Co. in South Portland and how delicious and reasonably priced its food was. Shannon mentioned that a coworker has seen customers line up outside the shop before it even opens. It just so happens that Scratch Baking Co. is only a little over a mile from the the new apartment. Eager to see what the food was like, we stopped there before we even went to the apartment. Disappointment! Scratch Baking Co. is closed on Monday. Ah, well, we said philosophically, there will be other times.

Instead, we got some good sandwiches from a shop—can’t remember the name—just down the street, and we sat on the long front porch as we ate. Our dog, Liam, was hitched to one of the posts, close enough to be in begging proximity. The house is only a mile and a half away from the ocean, and there are birds everywhere—cardinals, ducks, chickadees, even pigeons, which I do not mind at all. When I took Liam for an afternoon walk, I walked by a marsh, and I heard a bird song of such astonishing melody and variation that I had to spend some time looking for the bird. I found it—a medium-sized bird with a slender beak and no distinguishing marks. As far as I could tell, it was shades of brown, gray, and white, and it was fairly plump. But what a song! I’m assuming this bird was a male who was trying to attract a mate. I was bedazzled by the the bird’s song, and I hope he was successful in finding a partner.

After a day of painting, we had all worked up an appetite, and we decided to stop at Stonyfield Café, formerly O’Naturals, in Falmouth. We were all in the mood for one of their noodle dishes, and the great thing about Stonyfield is that their noodle dish is a mix and match kind of thing. Clif got his with peanut sauce, chicken, peppers, and snap peas; Shannon had beef, chickpeas, teriyaki sauce, and snap peas (I think!); and I had mine with chicken, snap peas, mushrooms, and carrots with a sesame-ginger sauce. The noodles, served in a big bowl, each came with a generous piece of their brick-oven flat bread. We all cleaned our plates and felt properly nourished, primed for more painting in the days to come.

Note: Mike was sick that day and had to stay home. But he’s feeling better and will soon be ready to help paint.

 

 

WEEK 14: THE LET THEM EAT BREAD REPORT

Bread CartoonThe Project: To bake and give away at least one loaf of bread each week in 2011.

The Reason: A personal protest against the rampant selfishness of our society.

The Bonus: It’s good spiritual practice.

 

On week 14, I gave a loaf of bread to a young woman named Jenn Currier, who belongs to the Winthrop Green Committee and has been instrumental in organizing the many upcoming Earth Week activities that our town will be offering. (Here is a list of events.) My husband, Clif, and I are helping with the “Mostly Maine Potluck Dinner,” to be held on Earth Day, April 22 at the Winthrop High School. What will we be making for the dinner? A quiche made with smoked cheddar—with the eggs, the milk, and the cheese all coming from Maine. And an apple crisp—apples and butter from Maine. If we can find a good source of dried beans from Maine, Clif would also like to make a chili to bring, and it will include Maine beef, which we know we can get.

But I digress. Jenn Currier is an extremely energetic woman (ah, youth!) with two young children and a big, old house to take care of. She does this with aplomb even while she apologizes for the state of the house. “It’s a house with kids,” she explains. While there are toys in each of the main rooms, Jenn’s home is clean and organized. In other words, there is no need to apologize. In addition to being an integral part of the Green Committee, Jenn works part time at two shops in town—Apple Valley Bookstore and a gift shop called Potatoes.

“My goal is to have a key to every store in Winthrop,” Jenn deadpanned.

“Winthrop domination,” I added.

“That’s right,” she said, laughing.

Last week, there was an Earth Week meeting at her house. Clif and I are a one-car family, and as the meeting was going to take place while Clif was at work, Jenn very nicely offered to come and get me. Who better, then, to receive a loaf of homemade bread? Nobody that I could think of.

 

 

 

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