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.
Monday, 10 July 2017
Monday, 22 May 2017
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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 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)
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Do as I say, not as I do |
Tuesday, 11 April 2017
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
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
Sunday, 5 March 2017
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.
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.
Tuesday, 10 January 2017
The California Zephyr
As some of you know, I took the train back from Indiana to Utah on New Years Eve. 29 hours from Chicago's Union Station straight into Green River, Utah. Because it's not what you would call a typical form of transportation these days, I thought I'd tell you a bit about the experience. Just as a disclaimer, I traveled with Justin, who lives south of Detroit, so we both caught the train in Chicago. Everything I say is through the lens of having a travel buddy.
The most remarkable thing initially about the train is the utter lack of security. You could take knives, bombs, raw meat (which I would nevvvver do. never ever. whaat? me?), and really anything else your heart desired. And a lot of it. From my understanding, Amtrak allows you to have two checked bags (providing you're getting off at a station that allows checked bags, which Green River does not), two carry-on items, and two personal items. Phew. It's really more than you can carry. (and I would know) So if you need to travel somewhere with a lot of stuff and you don't want to drive, the train is the way to go. Depending on who you are, the lack of security can be disconcerting or a welcome perk.
Once you're on the train, you can exist within it's warmth the entire ride. The loveliness of that is not to be underestimated. They have smoking and stretch-your-legs stops, but I was always too lazy to get off. There are many conveniences that make your ride more comfortable, such as bathrooms (they make your ride muucchh more comfortable), a snack car, observation car, and dining car. The dining car food is edible, but I would recommend planning not to eat there. It's expensive microwave food, as our breakfast dining buddy put it. Luckily I have a wonderful mother who packed a large bag of food for me.
You can also pay to have part of a sleeper car, which I did not, but the seats themselves weren't bad at all to sleep in. Unlike airplanes, you have plenty of leg room, the seats recline far back, and a little leg rest pops up at the bottom to support you. There's a gentle sway to the train car that helped me relax and sleep. (in case you're not picking up on this, the train allowed me to be very lazy)
If you like chatting with strangers, you'll appreciate the train. The environment is relaxed, and there are always people getting on and off. Because I traveled with Justin, I didn't really talk to many strangers... which is probably how I would prefer it. People are also always in and out of the observation car, and it seems like a more talkative place. I probably wouldn't have enjoyed the experience quite as much if I had traveled by myself, although I'm sure it would have been a time for much fruitful contemplation and introspection. Providing I could get rid of all the talkative seat mates.
The observation car is quite obviously for observing the views. It has bigger windows, and the seats face outward rather than forward. There are also some tables for gathering and game-playing. For the first half of the ride (Chicago to the edge of Nebraska) the views weren't worth fighting over, but once we hit Colorado the observation car filled up right quick. For good reason. Traveling through the Rockies was gorgeous.
I noticed that the train seemed to be a popular choice for families. It makes sense- on the train your kids can roam, and you don't have to worry about driving so it's a great time to play games and talk. I think kids also get into the sense of adventure and the ability to explore.
An extra bonus, in my opinion, is that the California Zephyr didn't have wi-fi. Unless you love wasting data, that means disconnecting from the world a bit. It means hours of staring out the window, sleeping, eating, talking, and reading. Those are pretty much all of my favorite things right there.
So would I recommend traveling by train? If you have the time, yes. Why on earth would I subject myself to such slowness? Well... I recently bought a teapot that only holds 1 Liter. When it came I realized how small that actually is, I wondered aloud in the office if I should exchange it for a bigger size so we didn't have to refill it. One of my office mates, Abi, said, "nah, we need reasons to make life go slower, right?" My first reaction would probably have been- No, of course not. We need life to move efficiently. But the more I've thought about it, the truer that seems to be. We have so many tools to make our lives go faster... to the point where I think we need reasons to slow down. That's the best reason I can think of for taking the train. It's not as cheap as driving and it's certainly slower than flying, but it's just so pleasant. Take the train and remember that it's ok for life to move at a different pace.
The most remarkable thing initially about the train is the utter lack of security. You could take knives, bombs, raw meat (which I would nevvvver do. never ever. whaat? me?), and really anything else your heart desired. And a lot of it. From my understanding, Amtrak allows you to have two checked bags (providing you're getting off at a station that allows checked bags, which Green River does not), two carry-on items, and two personal items. Phew. It's really more than you can carry. (and I would know) So if you need to travel somewhere with a lot of stuff and you don't want to drive, the train is the way to go. Depending on who you are, the lack of security can be disconcerting or a welcome perk.
Once you're on the train, you can exist within it's warmth the entire ride. The loveliness of that is not to be underestimated. They have smoking and stretch-your-legs stops, but I was always too lazy to get off. There are many conveniences that make your ride more comfortable, such as bathrooms (they make your ride muucchh more comfortable), a snack car, observation car, and dining car. The dining car food is edible, but I would recommend planning not to eat there. It's expensive microwave food, as our breakfast dining buddy put it. Luckily I have a wonderful mother who packed a large bag of food for me.
You can also pay to have part of a sleeper car, which I did not, but the seats themselves weren't bad at all to sleep in. Unlike airplanes, you have plenty of leg room, the seats recline far back, and a little leg rest pops up at the bottom to support you. There's a gentle sway to the train car that helped me relax and sleep. (in case you're not picking up on this, the train allowed me to be very lazy)
If you like chatting with strangers, you'll appreciate the train. The environment is relaxed, and there are always people getting on and off. Because I traveled with Justin, I didn't really talk to many strangers... which is probably how I would prefer it. People are also always in and out of the observation car, and it seems like a more talkative place. I probably wouldn't have enjoyed the experience quite as much if I had traveled by myself, although I'm sure it would have been a time for much fruitful contemplation and introspection. Providing I could get rid of all the talkative seat mates.
The observation car is quite obviously for observing the views. It has bigger windows, and the seats face outward rather than forward. There are also some tables for gathering and game-playing. For the first half of the ride (Chicago to the edge of Nebraska) the views weren't worth fighting over, but once we hit Colorado the observation car filled up right quick. For good reason. Traveling through the Rockies was gorgeous.
I noticed that the train seemed to be a popular choice for families. It makes sense- on the train your kids can roam, and you don't have to worry about driving so it's a great time to play games and talk. I think kids also get into the sense of adventure and the ability to explore.
An extra bonus, in my opinion, is that the California Zephyr didn't have wi-fi. Unless you love wasting data, that means disconnecting from the world a bit. It means hours of staring out the window, sleeping, eating, talking, and reading. Those are pretty much all of my favorite things right there.
So would I recommend traveling by train? If you have the time, yes. Why on earth would I subject myself to such slowness? Well... I recently bought a teapot that only holds 1 Liter. When it came I realized how small that actually is, I wondered aloud in the office if I should exchange it for a bigger size so we didn't have to refill it. One of my office mates, Abi, said, "nah, we need reasons to make life go slower, right?" My first reaction would probably have been- No, of course not. We need life to move efficiently. But the more I've thought about it, the truer that seems to be. We have so many tools to make our lives go faster... to the point where I think we need reasons to slow down. That's the best reason I can think of for taking the train. It's not as cheap as driving and it's certainly slower than flying, but it's just so pleasant. Take the train and remember that it's ok for life to move at a different pace.
Tuesday, 29 November 2016
For Her
I don't get to hug her very often, and I'm not good at calling. For all she's done, I tell her far too infrequently how special she is.
She is not overly demonstrative, dramatic, or affectionate. Her love is solid and quiet, displayed more in actions and less in words. Her life has been filled with a husband and seven children whose needs she put above her own. She gardened and canned and cooked three meals a day. She sat in my bed and read Laura Ingles Wilder and Bernstein Bears until her eyes fell shut and I shook her awake. She made us our favorite birthday dinners every year. She cleaned the house and tolerated us as we threw our bags by the door and tracked in mud.
Within her is the softest of hearts tempered by firmness and consistency. She convincingly chased children to the stairs under the threat of a wooden spoon with no real intention of using it. When I tattled on my brothers for pinning me to the ground, she asked, "Did you deserve it?". She cried for me as I shook with nerves the mornings of cross country meets. She patiently raised ornery, sensitive, stubborn, and dramatic boys and girls. She has witnessed our choices and mistakes, but never hovered or condemned.
She did it all so quietly that we hardly noticed. Without buying anything expensive or extravagant, she made us the luckiest of children. We had the gift of a wonderful mother.
Happy Birthday Mom. I love you.
She is not overly demonstrative, dramatic, or affectionate. Her love is solid and quiet, displayed more in actions and less in words. Her life has been filled with a husband and seven children whose needs she put above her own. She gardened and canned and cooked three meals a day. She sat in my bed and read Laura Ingles Wilder and Bernstein Bears until her eyes fell shut and I shook her awake. She made us our favorite birthday dinners every year. She cleaned the house and tolerated us as we threw our bags by the door and tracked in mud.
Within her is the softest of hearts tempered by firmness and consistency. She convincingly chased children to the stairs under the threat of a wooden spoon with no real intention of using it. When I tattled on my brothers for pinning me to the ground, she asked, "Did you deserve it?". She cried for me as I shook with nerves the mornings of cross country meets. She patiently raised ornery, sensitive, stubborn, and dramatic boys and girls. She has witnessed our choices and mistakes, but never hovered or condemned.
She did it all so quietly that we hardly noticed. Without buying anything expensive or extravagant, she made us the luckiest of children. We had the gift of a wonderful mother.
Happy Birthday Mom. I love you.
Thursday, 20 October 2016
The Victoria Sandwich
I've never been a baker. I love cooking. I love throwing things together, adjusting as I go, using what's on hand. It's the best. But combining things in exact ratios and sticking in an oven where I just have to wait and it might be ruined at the very last second when I turn it out of the pan- that's the worst. My sister Andrea has always been more of a baker, and growing up I was always perfectly content just to eat her 4-H practice trials. My mom was also a wonderful baker. She didn't make a lot of cakes or sweets for everyday dinners, but she put the effort into making homemade things like biscuits and breads and rolls and coffee cakes... Midwestern German mom cooking... mmmm. Somehow the things she made just always seemed to turn out well. I can't remember ever seeing her flop.
Cake was just about the only thing my mom didn't make from scratch. So like most people, my childhood was filled with Betty Crocker cake mixes on my birthday (but beautifully decorated with her perfect handwriting). Eventually I reached this age where I decided I didn't even like cake very much, so I started requesting more non-traditional birthday desserts. My high school self was even determined to not have cake at my wedding. Maybe cheesecake, or a layered trifle pudding, but none of those boring one-dimensional sheet cakes. My views on cake and baking remained pretty firm, until one day...
I watched the Great British Bake Off. And everything changed.
I want to just put in a plug for this show. The BBC knows how to do television. For starters, the contestants are so nice to each other and so helpful. They clearly care about winning, but their competitiveness is at the "I just want to do well" level, not the "I want to take everyone out" level. The show is actually about the baking itself, not about some drama that was cooked up for entertainment's sake. The challenges don't require big twists and gimmicks because baking is enough of a challenge in itself. And BRITISH ACCENTS. Need I say more?
As I watched the first season and learned all this fascinating history on cakes and scones and sandwiches and the like I began to appreciate how lovely they really are. Their stories are integrated with the development of society as we know it. And to think that at some point people figured out that mixing ingredients in certain ratios will give you all kinds of these fluffy, chewy, buttery, flaky, sweet things just amazes me.
So how is it that cake- this thing that the British would eat for a casual tea time- turned into this super sweet treat that we only pull out at birthdays and weddings and only make from boxes or buy from a store? Like most packaged food stories, I'm sure it dates back to the 1950's, but I think it's really unfortunate. And because I feel sorry for the state of cake in America, I decided to attempt a classic British sponge cake: the Victoria sandwich.
(oh, an aside, one of the other reasons I love the GBBO is that I get to learn British terms for baked goods, which are often quite or slightly different than our versions. And I've never heard the word "sponge" used so often as I do on this show.)
This cake was lovely. To make and to eat. It tastes like a buttery sugar cookie in cake form. Of course, true to my baking luck, it sank in the middle, which could have been due to a variety of factors. Hooray for bread knives to slice off the top and fluffy frosting that covers all ills. Here's the recipe, straight from Mary Berry. I made it using a food scale, so I'm not sure how things come out if you use weight/volume conversions. A Victoria sandwich usually is just dusted with powdered sugar, but that's no fun. So mine had a whipped filling and topping made from 1 pint of whipping cream and 1/2 cup of powdered sugar.
Aside from this cake, I've been on a bit of a baking kick that's included cornbread, biscuits, baguettes, pizza dough, and a few types of cookies. That probably doesn't sound like a big deal, but these are strides for this non-baker. Through all this, I've realized that the real harsh reason I probably don't like baking is that I don't like failure. I don't like that I can put a whole bunch of work into something and it may not turn out. As anyone who knows me pretty well teases me about- I just want things to go right the first time. Don't give me any of that learning through mistakes nonsense. I don't want to make mistakes. Well, this year has probably been one big lesson in getting over that. Not that I'm over it yet. But baking therapy sure helps.
Cake was just about the only thing my mom didn't make from scratch. So like most people, my childhood was filled with Betty Crocker cake mixes on my birthday (but beautifully decorated with her perfect handwriting). Eventually I reached this age where I decided I didn't even like cake very much, so I started requesting more non-traditional birthday desserts. My high school self was even determined to not have cake at my wedding. Maybe cheesecake, or a layered trifle pudding, but none of those boring one-dimensional sheet cakes. My views on cake and baking remained pretty firm, until one day...
I watched the Great British Bake Off. And everything changed.
I want to just put in a plug for this show. The BBC knows how to do television. For starters, the contestants are so nice to each other and so helpful. They clearly care about winning, but their competitiveness is at the "I just want to do well" level, not the "I want to take everyone out" level. The show is actually about the baking itself, not about some drama that was cooked up for entertainment's sake. The challenges don't require big twists and gimmicks because baking is enough of a challenge in itself. And BRITISH ACCENTS. Need I say more?
As I watched the first season and learned all this fascinating history on cakes and scones and sandwiches and the like I began to appreciate how lovely they really are. Their stories are integrated with the development of society as we know it. And to think that at some point people figured out that mixing ingredients in certain ratios will give you all kinds of these fluffy, chewy, buttery, flaky, sweet things just amazes me.
So how is it that cake- this thing that the British would eat for a casual tea time- turned into this super sweet treat that we only pull out at birthdays and weddings and only make from boxes or buy from a store? Like most packaged food stories, I'm sure it dates back to the 1950's, but I think it's really unfortunate. And because I feel sorry for the state of cake in America, I decided to attempt a classic British sponge cake: the Victoria sandwich.
(oh, an aside, one of the other reasons I love the GBBO is that I get to learn British terms for baked goods, which are often quite or slightly different than our versions. And I've never heard the word "sponge" used so often as I do on this show.)
This cake was lovely. To make and to eat. It tastes like a buttery sugar cookie in cake form. Of course, true to my baking luck, it sank in the middle, which could have been due to a variety of factors. Hooray for bread knives to slice off the top and fluffy frosting that covers all ills. Here's the recipe, straight from Mary Berry. I made it using a food scale, so I'm not sure how things come out if you use weight/volume conversions. A Victoria sandwich usually is just dusted with powdered sugar, but that's no fun. So mine had a whipped filling and topping made from 1 pint of whipping cream and 1/2 cup of powdered sugar.
Aside from this cake, I've been on a bit of a baking kick that's included cornbread, biscuits, baguettes, pizza dough, and a few types of cookies. That probably doesn't sound like a big deal, but these are strides for this non-baker. Through all this, I've realized that the real harsh reason I probably don't like baking is that I don't like failure. I don't like that I can put a whole bunch of work into something and it may not turn out. As anyone who knows me pretty well teases me about- I just want things to go right the first time. Don't give me any of that learning through mistakes nonsense. I don't want to make mistakes. Well, this year has probably been one big lesson in getting over that. Not that I'm over it yet. But baking therapy sure helps.
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