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.

 

 

 

TEA AND COOKIES ON A RAINY APRIL DAY

Yesterday was a day of April showers. Actually, it poured. But all the better to take away the last bit of stubborn snow that clings here and there in our yard. Living in the woods is great during the summer, and we are protected from the worst of the winter winds, but it also means that on Narrows Pond Road, our yard is one of the last to lose all its snow.

cookies on plateMy friend Sybil came over for tea and chocolate chip cookies, and nobody can brighten up a gray day like Sybil. She had just returned from a trip to Chicago, where she had visited with her son and her daughter-in-law, who is a choreographer. Indeed, Sybil went to Chicago especially to see her daughter-in-law’s show, and Sybil said it was marvelous. Apparently, even the Chicago Tribune agreed, giving it a very good review.

In May, Sybil will be going to Cornwall, to visit a friend and stay (I think!) for 16 days. “I’m going to bring the Joy of Cooking so that I cook some meals while I’m there,” Sybil said. “That’s a long time to stay with someone. My friend will help me convert the measurements.”

“What a lovely time to be going to England,” I said.

“Yes, the bluebells will be in bloom.”

“Listen for the cuckoos,” I said.

“Don’t you think they sound a lot like our mourning doves?” Sybil asked.

“Maybe a little,” I said. “But it seems to me that cuckoos have a crisper call.”

“I’ll listen for them,” she promised.

From there, we moved on to discuss BBC, specifically Downton Abbey and Upstairs, Downstairs. Sybil recalled how during the 1970s, when Upstairs, Downstairs premiered, her children used to come running as soon as they heard the theme for Masterpiece Theatre. “Even my husband, Ray, eventually came to like the show,” Sybil said.

Good for Ray! Let’s just say that not all men like period pieces, and leave it at that.

From Upstairs, Downstairs, which I also loved in the ’70s, it was on to the current remake of Jane Eyre, which is playing at Railroad Square Cinema in Waterville.

“We must go see it before I go to England,” Sybil said.

“Yes,” I replied. An unsurprising note: Clif is not at all keen on seeing Jane Eyre.

All too soon, it was time for Sybil to leave. I packed some chocolate chip cookies for her. “Just give me four!” she instructed. “I have no self-control with those cookies.”

Well, my daughter Dee has said they are my specialty, and I have to admit those cookies are not too bad.

I gave Sybil five. “One for the road,” I said.

Sybil laughed. “One for the road.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EARTH WEEK ALERT: FILMS, FOOD, AND FARMERS

Earth day (April 22) is a week away, and various communities around Maine have events planned not only for the actual day but also for the whole week. This is certainly the case in Winthrop. My husband, Clif and I are helping with A Mostly Maine Potluck Dinner to be held on Earth Day at Winthrop High School, but there are many other events offered as well—films and workshops for both children and adults. The town of Winthrop’s website has a list of events. Readers in central Maine might want to check it out.

For those who live within driving distance of Portland, there is a Food+Farm series, featuring the movie The Greenhorns, which is about young farmers. There will also be a talk given by the food writer and activist Anna Lappe, whose most recent book is Diet for a Hot Planet: The Climate Crisis at the End of Your Fork and What You Can Do About It. The Food+Farmers series starts this Thursday, with The Greenhorns being shown on Saturday. Unfortunately, there just isn’t time in our schedule to go to Portland this Saturday. Otherwise, Clif and I would be there.

The subject of young farmers is one that is dear to my heart. In the United States, the average age of the farmer is 57. (I’ve written about this both for A Good Eater and for the magazine Maine Food & Lifestyle.)  After, all no farmers=no food, and with the price of land and the cost of health insurance, we better darned well be thinking about how we can help the next generation of farmers.

Anyway, lots to do in Maine for the upcoming week!

TO RI-RA FOR SHANNON’S BIRTHDAY

The bayYesterday, I drove to Portland to meet my friend Kate and my daughter Shannon for a birthday luncheon. We do this three times a year—for each of our birthdays—and Portland is a half-way point for both Kate and me. (Shannon works in Portland so it is very convenient for her.) The birthday “girl” gets to choose the place, and Shannon chose Ri-Ra, an Irish pub right on the water.

As befitting an Irish pub, the wood is dark—cozy rather than gloomy—and there is an upstairs and a downstairs. We like to eat upstairs, by windows that overlook the bay, and because we got there early, Shannon was able to pick a table that was not only by a window but also by the fire, which felt very good on a damp and rainy day. While we waited for Kate, Shannon and I looked out the window as we chatted.  Portland still has a working waterfront, and with its docks and boats and warehouses, the view is interesting rather than lovely, but nevertheless very pleasing to me. Shannon and I saw ducks—eiders, I think—swimming in the bay. We also saw a loon, still wintering on the ocean, but as soon as the inland lakes are clear of ice, I’m sure the loon will move to its summer quarters. (As of today, the ice is still on the ponds and lakes in central Maine. And no peepers yet.) The clouds moved across the sky, and patches of light shone here and there as the weather began to clear.

Kate soon joined us, and we had a good conversation and as well as a good meal.  There were little presents. Both Kate and I like to give homemade goodies as birthday treats, and she made some of her incredible chocolate cookies for lucky Shannon. With my husband’s help, I had made peanut butter balls—a whole pound of them—a favorite of Shannon’s. Then, along with the cookies, Kate gave Shannon some spices and barbecue rubs (I can’t remember the brand) that she especially likes. I gave Shannon some note cards made from pictures that my husband, Clif, had taken.

sandwich on plateThe food came—a rich seafood bisque for Shannon; a pastrami sandwich for Kate, which she proclaimed one of the best she’s ever eaten; and a grilled portobello sandwich with basil, fresh mozzarella, and roasted red peppers for me. My sandwich was so tasty that I started thinking about how I could make a similar sandwich for myself for lunch. (Clif, alas, does not like portobello mushrooms. Silly old thing!)

“I could broil the portobello for a quick lunch,” I said. “The other ingredients are easy to get.”

“Maybe marinate it in some balsamic vinegar,” Kate suggested.

“With chopped garlic,” I said.

“Maybe I’ll come over for lunch,” Kate joked.

Unfortunately, she lives too far to come over for lunch.

When it came to dessert, I decided it was high time to be stern. “Look,” I said, “here is how it usually goes. We order three desserts. I eat mine, and then because I am a glutton who can’t stand to see food go to waste, I finish both of yours as well.”

“Wait a minute!” Kate put in. “We always eat some of your dessert, too. You don’t eat it all by yourself.”

“Maybe I’m exaggerating,” I admitted.

“Just a little,” Shannon said. “As usual.”

“Still, I think we could make do with two desserts, don’t you?”

Yes, they agreed, two desserts would be plenty.

So with some very good Irish tea, we had dessert—chocolate cake and apple in puff pastry. And it was just right.

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