"Home"

I've been home now for almost 7 weeks. That, at first glance, is a very straightforward sentence. But for me it carries a lot of mixed emotions and tangled thoughts.

The use of the word "home" to describe my parent's house in Indiana is no longer automatic. It still feels like home, mostly because of the length of time I've spent here in comparison with anywhere else, but it some ways it feels more like a home than my home. It's a place where I used to live and where people who I love very much live. But those are their lives, not mine. I am on the periphery, floating somewhere in between a child, sister, and adult house guest. In reality, I belong nowhere at all. I have no home because I have no place to call mine.

I've had many people ask me how it is to be back, to which my response is usually "it's good!", with a slightly uncertain look. It's not that it's not good to be here. It definitely is. I get to attend family events and hang out with my sister and make meals with my parents. I get to have long talk with good friends and not say a real goodbye at the end. I just underestimated the mental and emotional difficulties in finding my place among lives that I haven't really been a part of in 8 years while dealing with the loss of a place that I loved.

It was in many ways like moving from a literal and figurative desert to a literal and figurative... rain forest (ok, which I know Indiana is not, but if you saw how much it rained in October you get my point). The emptiness that makes the desert wonderful is also what makes it lonely, and the richness that makes the rain forest beautiful is also what makes it somewhat claustrophobia-inducing.

I realize that I don't have to live at home and that when I say it's hard, I feel like people look at me like "Well, if it's so difficult living with your parents, why don't you just move out? You should be grateful." I am grateful. I'm grateful that my parents wanted me to come home and that they are willing to partially support me financially right now. But please, don't look at this like it's easy. It's not easy to be able to not be able to fully support myself. It is not easy to deal with this level of uncertainty about the next step. It is not easy to be seen as a 26-year-old child. Trust me, it is not for lack of independence that I moved home, and that independence is what makes it difficult to be here.

Perhaps only for my own sake, I feel like I should explain what lead me to this place. I enjoyed my life and my job in Utah, but I felt like it was the right time for me to leave. As my time came to a close, I began looking for jobs similar to what I had done: jobs in non-profit organizations, located somewhere in the Midwest, who deal with feeding people or educating them about food/gardening in some capacity. These jobs are certainly not a dime-a-dozen, especially full time. In August, when I came home for a brief visit, my dad wanted me to go look at a restaurant for sale in Wolcott. As a brief background, I have for some years now said that I think I would enjoy owning a restaurant someday (someday was, for me, at like the age of 50, but nevermind that). To make a long story short, my dad purchased the restaurant with the intent of giving me more time to decide if I was interested in running it. Fast-forward a couple of months, and here I am. I moved home in part to spend time with family and friends that I haven't seen in two years, and in part to give myself some time to decide if I want to make this huge commitment and forego (at least for now) a career working for non-profits.

This restaurant thing can take up a whole other post- it's not the point. The point is to give some release to this little voice inside me screaming "I'm not a lazy mooch! I'm not trying to avoid adulthood! (however you define that)" I am just slow to make decisions, especially of this magnitude. I'm trying to enjoy being "home". And I need a little space to do all of that.

If you read this, thanks for indulging me.

Here are some pictures from my time back so far, including from our recent family vacation to the smokies.

Indiana, meet Green River melons.

Goodbye

I have always been inordinately attached to places. Places provide the context, not the merely the background, to our lives. Places give us beauty. They make us feel comfortable or uneasy, calm or anxious. They are the spaces where our memories are created and our every day beautiful lives are lived. By our use of them, they are transformed into more than the sum of their parts. Because of this, they never fail to deeply imprint themselves on my heart. I am becoming uncomfortably familiar with the feeling of needing a change and yet dreading it. In a perfect world, I would have it all- I could move my family and closest friends out to Utah, grow Green River just a bit, and stay. But, in case you missed it, the world isn't perfect.

This will be my last blog post from Utah. I don't know exactly what the future holds yet (to get that question out of the way). So if I see you in the coming weeks in Indiana, please remember that I'm probably experiencing some culture shock, heartache, and I won't be able to answer a lot of questions.

I could never fully express how much my time here has meant to me. Here, I have seen and experienced and belonged to a world so different from what I have ever known. Felt the wind of the west and watched the tumbleweeds roll. Climbed mountains and buttes and hiked many miles through the desert. Learned about place names and public lands. Called it all Home.

I've built a solar irrigation system from scratch and perfected my PB&J skills. I've successfully written grants, grown plants from desert soil, and won a few hearts- big and little. I've raised beautiful chickens and resurfaced floors and put countless little pieces of myself into this place. It will go one just fine without me or it won't, and neither of those feel great.

I know that some day these two years will feel like just a blip, but I want to imagine that some part of my heart will always be here, still sitting on the river and shimmying through canyons.

I know that it's time. I'm just not ready to believe it.

Fruit Squishies

The internet has a conspicuous lack of good fruit snack recipes.

It's true. I'm convinced it's some kind of conspiracy. It's not that they don't exist... it's just that they're all almost exactly the same and none of them are like real fruit snacks. Suspicious.

So, for personal and professional reasons, I embarked on a journey to create a decent homemade fruit snack. It was a journey fraught with gelatin pit-falls, and I can't say that I've reached the destination. But, for the sake of you granola moms and food adventurers out there who might find this useful, I will relay what I've learned:

1. You cannot create a realistic fruit snack using just gelatin. It's just like extra hard jello (duh). None of that chewy texture.

2. You cannot create a realistic fruit snack using a lot of normal corn starch. It's just... starchy. And weird. Which leads me to...

3. I'm not going to be able to replicate real fruit snacks. Partly because I don't have easy access to modified corn starch. Partly because of the great Fruit Snack Conspiracy that prevents me from learning how they're actually made.

On the plus side, these little Fruit Squishies are pretty tasty in their own way and make a very fun activity for kids (of all ages). I created this recipe by working backwards from a Welch's fruit snack label. However, mine don't really feel like them at all and they have a lot less corn starch (and less sugar). You're welcome to change the fruits if you want. It could affect the outcome due to different pectin levels in different fruits, but it shouldn't matter all that much. For further experimentation, I would suggest leaving the fruit snacks out for awhile on the counter (uncovered) or dehydrating them for a bit and see what that does to the texture. You could also try to find a high-amylopectin (waxy) starch, as this should form a firmer gel.

Before you attempt this, purchasing a set of candy molds and some syringes will make your life easier (and awesomer). You can get boring molds, or culturally-relevant molds that will make you the "fun mom" (or dad, aunt, grandma, cousin, etc).

Fruit Squishies
1 1/2 cups whole grapes
3/4 cup strawberries, chopped
1/4 cup honey (I also tried this with corn syrup, but it just didn't have as much flavor as I wanted it to)
1 teaspoon corn starch
2 pkgs plain gelatin (0.5 oz)

1. Set molds on a small tray or baking sheet. Spray evenly with a thin layer of cooking spray or oil.
2. Add the grapes, strawberries, and honey to a blender or food processor. Blend until smooth as possible.
3. Pour about a cup of the mixture into a small bowl. Sprinkle gelatin evenly over the top of the surface and set aside. When the gelatin mixture looks wrinkly and the gelatin has "bloomed" (absorbed liquid and softened), whisk to incorporate.
4. Meanwhile, to the remaining mixture in the blender, add the corn starch and blend until smooth. Pour into a saucepan set over medium heat. Heat until bubbling, stirring occasionally, and cook for another 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.
5. Add the gelatin mixture to the hot corn starch mixture, whisking until smooth and gelatin has dissolved (if you rub it between your fingers, it shouldn't feel gritty).
6. Push the mixture through a fine mesh strainer to remove pulp/peel, which would clog the syringe.
7. Use a syringe to fill the silicone molds to the top with fruit squishy mixture. Let set for about 2 hours in the fridge, until hardened. Pop out and enjoy!

Note: it might seem like there are extra steps in here ("why can't I just throw everything in a blender, cook it, and call it good?"), but I assure you that they're necessary. Getting gelatin too hot can weaken its ability to gel, which is why it isn't blended in with everything else and cooked. You also cannot add gelatin powder straight to a hot mixture, it will "cook" the gelatin before it dissolves and create clumps, which is why it is first dissolved in the cup of fruit puree.

On Food

Awhile back, I was hanging out with a group of friends, and I was asked this question:  "Amber, with all the people in your family, how many refrigerators did you have?"  "Just one", I responded.  "Oh wait, no, we had another one in the basement that we used for overflow".... several seconds later.... "Wait, there was the walk-in cooler and freezer too".  And finally, "Oh! There was also the condiment fridge by the kitchen table".

I grew up with a father who would drive to all the Krogers in Lafayette if he couldn't find what he wanted, cater his own office parties, and fill the house with ridiculous amounts of produce because "it was a good deal". My mother prepared amazing food for a squad of people breakfast, lunch, and dinner (and supported my father in all of his crazy dinner schemes). Deliciousness was never sacrificed.

Is it any wonder, really, that I turned out the way I did?

I have few interests relative to the people I spend time with in Utah. Not only fewer, but less intense interests. Except for food. (Which just so happens to be something that everybody loves because everybody eats. Translation: I'm really just kind of lame. But I'm a lamo who will happily make you dinner.)

I don't think either of my parents ever set out to teach me about food, or cooking, or eating well, or even agriculture and gardening. But the message was implicitly woven throughout my growing-up years. While other children were watching Tony the Tiger on TV ads, I was picking sweetcorn with dad (not always because I wanted to) and watching mom make biscuits. We ate breakfast and dinner together almost every single day. Our Christmas plans were really "What are we having for Christmas dinner?" plans. The two pretty fool-proof topics of dinner conversation at my house: food and farming. Even the coupon-clipping days in my early childhood, marked in my memory by cream of mushroom-filled casseroles, it was clear: food is important. It is important enough not to waste. Important enough to spend time and money on. Important to try and important to like. And whether a hot dog or a filet mignon, important to appreciate.

I would say that when I went to college most the people I interacted with had grown up in a similar way to me. But the more time I spent in food policy and nutrition classes, the more I realized that I had had a very privileged food childhood. It's not that I believe that everyone should grow up just like I did. I do believe, however, that every child should experience homemade food. They should see the eyes sprout on a potato and they should know that you harvest apples in the fall. I believe that every adult should have the experience of making food. Which means that they should have the access, knowledge, and skills necessary to plan a nutritious meal, purchase those ingredients, and prepare that meal. Why does it matter? If convenience foods can offer us equivalent nutrition to homemade foods, what's the point? Because food touches so many areas of our lives. When we eat a meal that someone has prepared for us, we receive their love and hospitality. When we grow food or make food for other people, we give of ourselves. It requires our knowledge, creativity, patience, and practice. In return, it gives us a rewarding sense of accomplishment. One of the best feelings in the world (surpassed maybe by like birthing a child or something- I wouldn't know) is successfully making a delicious homemade loaf of bread.

Sometimes I look back and wonder why I studied food science- the degree of the people who gave us pop tarts and easy mac and took away our desire to make our own food. But it taught me so much, and I have a real appreciation for the food industry. They also gave us sour cream and cheddar Ruffles, mustard pretzels, and Wheat Thins (not to mention American Cheese), all of which I have difficulties imagining my life without. I firmly believe that every food has it's place. I studied food science because I love food. The reason I didn't join the food industry after college is simply because my passion does not lie in providing people with mass-produced food.

I've spent almost two years now in Green River, Utah, and things haven't always gone like I've planned. The non-profit world is not always fun or easy, personally or professionally. Sometimes though, Flor begs to make fresh fruit popsicles again, or I hand off a box of fresh produce from the garden, or I watch Brian run to the chicken coop to gather eggs, and I'm reminded of the thing that explains all the things I have done and will do:

I believe that making food and eating it with others is an essential part of the human experience. I believe that it connects us to God, to each other, and to a deep part of ourselves. In so many ways, I believe it's worth spending a lifetime on.

Amber's Guide to Hiking in the Desert

I've had wonderful visits from family and friends throughout my time in Utah. Every time I have visitors, it seems like I keep repeating the same instructions on how to prepare and what to bring. So, I'm putting down my thoughts for any inexperienced adventurers who plan a trip to Utah (or really any hiking destination).

Go on the hikes!
Whenever my family went on vacations that included national parks or scenic areas, we pretty much did the drive through version. It's great, but we barely scratched the surface of what's there. So, even if you think you're old or really out of shape or whatever, go on the hikes. Trust me, I've seen all sorts out on the trail.

Do your research

If you're going to a national park such as Arches, make sure you attempt to go at a time that won't be extra busy. I mean, Arches is a madhouse from early spring into late fall, but there are still times that are worse than others. For example, Moab's annual Jeeping festival. Don't do it. Or the NPS free-entrance days. You'll save money, but you'll pay for it by fighting the other thrifty hikers.

There are ways to save money on your accommodations. If you want to rough it, you can camp on any BLM land that's at least 100 ft away from the road. Free and easy. If you're more the hotel type, look into staying places that are a little further away from the main attraction (like Green River!) at least part of the time. You might drive an extra 45 minutes, but you can easily save a few hundred bucks.  

The main reason that National Parks are so popular is because they have been set aside to be protected and promoted. That doesn't mean you can't find really cool hikes in surrounding areas that will be far less crowded and probably just as cool as the national park. In fact, all the pictures included in this post are from non-national park locations. Find local websites that provide hiking guidance. That being said, make sure you pay attention to the type of vehicle required to access the hike. Several sites in my area are only found down rocky high-clearance roads. And I've found that sometimes people overestimate how cool hikes are, so check out some pictures if you're questioning. 

Also be on the lookout for changes in hours and other announcements that may affect where you're planning to go. For example, the Narrows in Zion are often closed in the spring because the river flows too quickly.

Kanarra Creek falls

Dress for the hike

There is a range of attire that is appropriate for any given hike, but here's a couple of ground rules: Don't wear jeans. Don't wear flip flops. Don't be the dork that brings your trekking poles for a 2 mile hike (unless you're gaining significant elevation per mile or you're 80 years old. If you're hiking at 80, you can do and wear whatever you want).

The Utah sun is intense! For summer hikes, I prefer to wear loose-fitting clothes that cover a lot of skin to avoid weird tan lines and stressing about sunscreen (don't forget to sunscreen the hands... my hands are so much browner than the rest of my body). Some lightweight pants will keep you a lot cooler than leggings, even cropped leggings. That being said, if I do a hike that requires any scrambling, squeezing in tight spaces, or getting wet, I prefer a pair of non-cotton leggings. In the spring and fall, wear layers. It might get down to 50 at night but be 85 during the day. Even when it's 85, you might get to the top of something and be cold in the breeze.  

For many hikes, especially the typical hikes in National Parks, a sturdy pair of tennis shoes will be just fine. The main reasons to get hiking boots, in my mind, are for traction and ankle support. It might be worth getting a pair if you are planning to do a fair amount of hiking in the future.

Crack Canyon

Be prepared

You don't need to go out and get a nice new hydration pack for a week vacation. That being said, they are very nice to have. (:  If you are buying a pack, make sure you go to a store and get fitted/try some on. Packs do come in different sizes, and different brands will fit differently. Pay attention to the capacity you need as well. Day packs are usually around 20 L, while overnight packs are usually 50+. [Promo: REI is a magical place]  

Having a first aid kit probably isn't necessary if you're just doing the national parks, but if you're hiking in more secluded areas having a small first aid kit will give you some piece of mind. Even just in case you need Band aids for blisters or you get a splinter or something. And ladies (sorry gents), make sure you have tampons handy in the car or in your pack. There's nothing worse than starting your period on a hike.

Even if you feel like your hikes will be between meal times, always carry a couple of granola bars. There's also nothing worse than hiking hungry. And you never know when you'll fall off a ledge and get trapped for days (... kidding! mostly).

Take more water than you think you need. The general rule is one gallon per person for a day of hiking. This is where having a bladder can come in handy because carrying all that water in bottles is a bit cumbersome. 

Get to your hike as early as you can

The majority of people are not early risers. 'nough said.

Respect Nature
"Leave No Trace". Stay on the trail, don't litter, and pick up other people's litter if you see it. Don't climb on things that you're told not to. Don't bust the crust. The beauty of Utah's landscape is partially in its fragility.  

Be safe 

Don't climb up anything without thinking about how you'll get down. (see "The Lessons of Misadventures")

Don't attempt things beyond your skill level or what you're comfortable with after a logical assessment of the situation. It might be a rush, but probably not worth it.

Don't hike in slot canyons if there's a chance of rain. You will get chlamydia. and die. (or just drown in a flash flood)

Do as I say, not as I do

  

Bananas for this bread

The next installment of the baking saga...

I love banana bread (and really anything with cooked bananas), but I've never had a go-to recipe. Which means that every time I make it, I scour the internet for what looks like the best version. Apparently they are never really memorable enough for me to save. I may be a wee bit picky in my banana bread standards: It needs to be moist and oh-so-soft on the inside, with no nuts or chocolate chips or anything breaking up the texture.  I want it a little crispy on the outside with a chewy caramelized sugar topping. I prefer a buttery bread over one made with olive oil- there's just something about that dairy. Most of all, it needs to have that scrumptious cooked banana flavor.

Awhile back I made banana bread for a Family Game Night that we have every month at the community center where I work. I wanted a recipe that picky children and parents alike would enjoy. In my customary internet search, I found this recipe that Epicurious claimed as their favorite. Golly. We ate it still warm and steamy from the oven, and it was nothing short of perfection. This is not your semi-healthy-I can justify-eating-the-whole-loaf banana bread. You'll note that there is a stick of butter in here. But do me a favor. Make it once in it's all of it's delicious, Calorie-laden glory. Then, if you just can't handle the decadence, do your tweaks.

"Our Favorite Banana Bread" from Epicurious, with a few modifications:

Ingredients
4 ripe medium bananas, peeled and mashed (about 13 ounces- for me this was 3 med/large bananas)*
1/4 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter (1 stick), room temperature*
3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature

2 Tablespoons packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Directions
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 9x5 loaf pan with butter and dust lightly with flour.
2. Combine the mashed bananas, sour cream, and vanilla in a bowl. Sift together the dry ingredients into another bowl (flour through salt).
3. Beat the butter and brown sugar together until light and fluffy (about 3 minutes). Add eggs one at a time and beat until fully combined.
4. Add banana mixture and beat until just combined. Add dry ingredients in two batches, mixing until just combined. The less you mix, the less gluten will form, and the softer your bread will be.
5. If you're adding nuts, chocolate chips, etc., now is the time to gently fold 1/2 cup in.
6. Pour the batter into your prepared pan and smooth the top with a spatula. Mix together the packed brown sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle on top.
7. Bake, rotating halfway through, until the batter is set, top is dark brown and starting to crack, and a tester inserted into the center comes out clean- 60 or so minutes.
8. Cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then use a butter knife to loosen the edges before tipping over to release the loaf. Transfer to a cooling rack or cutting board and let cool completely before slicing. (or, if you're impatient like me and you have a group who can eat the whole thing, just cut it open after another 15 minutes or so. If you're planning to save part of it, don't cut into it until it's cooled.)

*I think one of the keys to good banana bread is not using those super over-ripe brown bananas. You get better flavor with ones that are just very ripe. Keeping your bananas in the fridge when they start to turn will prevent super-browning for a week or two. If your bananas aren't as ripe as you want them to be, you can just microwave them for a bit before mashing. Works like a charm. 
*I always use salted butter because I don't feel like buying unsalted. From what I understand, people use unsalted butter so that they can better control the salt levels. But I've never minded a little extra. (: 

Now if you must go and make this bread healthy, here are a few suggestions:
- use 1/4 cup vanilla yogurt in place of sour cream (and reduce the amount of brown sugar)
- substitute 2/3 cup whole wheat flour for 2/3 cup of all-purpose
- cut down on the butter and sugar just a tad- maybe 6 T of butter instead of 8 and 1/2 cup of brown sugar
- adding 1/2 cup of walnuts or pecans won't reduce Calories, but it will add a little extra nutrition

26 years

I'm sure those of you who read my blog have noticed that my posts have gotten less frequent as my time in Utah has gone on. Part of that is due to a degree of laziness, yes. I was not one of those people who could spit out a 5 page paper in the two hours before class. Sometimes I slowly change, rearrange, and add things to a post for weeks before I post it. All that to say these posts take a fair amount of thought and editing for me. The other main reason for this is that my life here is really quite tranquil on a day-to-day basis. I go on some fun weekend adventures every now and again, but I detest play-by-play blog posts (except, of course, when it's a really good story). When you first move to a place, there's so much to observe and describe, and after you've been there for awhile, it's just your life. I'm sure it would still be special and different to people who aren't experiencing it, but it becomes harder to see it through that lens.

So really my goal for the past year or so has just been to post at least once a month. In my mind, it's probably just enough to let you know I'm still alive while allowing me to not stress about posting (you know, in the midst of my busy Netflix schedule).  It seems, though, that I'm failing at even that because I missed February. It was one of the first months where I felt I had nothing to share. No posts simmering on the back burner, sitting there with little pieces of thoughts waiting to be connected into something cohesive. When I look back on February, the most obvious event was turning 26. I had a lovely, simple birthday, but that's not going to be the point of this post.

In February, I learned that life is not fair. It's a phrase that you always hear and that I've always particularly resented. Even as a child, I felt that it was wrong to sit back and accept that life isn't fair- we should try to make it that way. We should strive for justice and inclusiveness and making sure that everyone has the same chance at big and small happiness in life. So here I am, at 26, finally learning that in spite of all efforts, life still isn't fair. Without going into a whole lot of detail, the event that led me to this conclusion was a situation with an agency whose support is vital to the nonprofit I work for. They were going to end their support of us based on some hearsay about our organization- information that they made very little attempt to look into or verify. They were very uncooperative and uncommunicative about the issues. At the end of the process they agreed to continue to work with us, but I would call our renewed relationship tenuous at best. One that can be broken with the slightest infraction on our part.

The whole process left me feeling confused and powerless. For the first time, I felt like the victim of a system that put something important to me at the mercy of others. I have latent expectations that people will be thorough and fair and that in America, you are innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around. It's a sad thing to lose some faith in people and organizations that are supposed to be doing good things, but the fact that I'm just realizing these things is an indication of the privileged life I have led. The system has always worked for me, not against me. Until now, I have never had to lose sleep because something was wrong.

Other people have dealt with this their entire lives. They've experienced things that no one ever should. There's the really big ones, like being imprisoned for 10 years for a crime you didn't commit, but there's also the really every day stuff. There's a child with a single mom who's on drugs and has a boyfriend who beats her up. Or even just a child with two parents whose love looks like expensive presents and junk food and plenty of TV allowance, but not the things a child really needs. It's not fair. And it's no wonder that both of those children would grow up, get a minimum wage job, never go to college, and start the cycle over again. Sometimes people sometimes try really hard at things that should work, and for whatever reason, they don't. Sometimes everything is fine and then the floor drops out. Sometimes people who have power just make bad decisions, and sometimes they abuse their power because they can.

If it sounds like I'm trying to convince you to start taking anti-depressants, I'm not. But for those of us who can't understand why people need welfare and food pantries and struggle to keep jobs- remember that you have been sheltered from the cruelest parts of life. You haven't been kicked when you're down. You've experienced the benefits of our American economy, not the injustices that accompany it. You have a sound mind and family and friends and there was probably never really any doubt that you were going to be fine. If those things aren't true for you, but you finished your education, got more than a make-ends-meet job, and started a stable family, then congratulations. You have more will and determination than anyone I know. Either that or you had some powerful help along the way.

What I'm asking you to think about is nothing new. Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes. I'm also saying that understanding that man is not enough. There is nothing wrong with being privileged, and it would be silly and ineffective to try to reverse that. But if you think for a moment that you've earned or deserve what you have, you're wrong. To me, the price of privilege should be helping those who aren't in whatever way feels meaningful to you. The world is not a kind or fair place, but it doesn't mean we all can't continue to work on that.

Preaching over. I promise to talk about happier things next time.