More Coffee, Please

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I’m not really sure when I first starting drinking coffee as a beverage choice and not milk, or soda, or even water. “I’ll have coffee, please, cream and sugar if you have it.”  It probably coincided with late night trips to Denny’s or some other local stop that served breakfast at all hours, after a night of partying with the boys. It could have been when I would pour a cup from Dad’s percolator after it had just finished, before it had a chance to turn dark and bitter from sitting on the counter on a Saturday morning. 

I do know I was an avid coffee drinker in high school and would sit up evenings with my sister-in-law’s Mom and friends, talking about life and what it was like to work in Reno’s casinos before Reno became—bigger. There were small cafe’s and coffee shops in town back then but this was long before Starbucks invented four dollar lattes and drizzled caramel on everything. Coffee came in a cup—one size only, though occasionally you could get it in a mug. 

One of my life goals has always been to work as a barrista. I don’t know why: I have a terrible memory and couldn’t possibly manage more than one order at a time. So it was with a pride verging on envy that I learned one of our family friends had started a coffee shop out in the Portland, Oregon area. Deb and I had an opportunity to visit soon after they opened and it was everything I could imagine a neighborhood coffee shop might offer. Comfortable seating, warm sunlight pouring in, an eclectic mix of furnishings and really nice staff, people who talked to you with more than a “got it” when you placed your order.

Insomnia Coffee Company, July 2007

Thirteen years later and Tyler, Evan and the crew now have five shops in the Hillsboro—Beaverton area. I’ve been to all of them, I make it a point to stop by at least one when we travel to Oregon, and I couldn’t be prouder of them. I’m partial to their shop in Cannon Beach but it could just be that the view makes the coffee taste even better. The times we are in now have been hard on everyone, especially small business owners. But knowing these guys and their commitment to the community, and coffee, I think they are going to come out of this even stronger. When they do, I’m ordering a coffee, make that a latte. A large one. 

I think Tyler was surprised to see us!

If you are in the Hillsboro area, stop by and support this local business. And you can always order their coffee online. http://insomniacoffee.co

Cooking by Color

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One of my favorite local restaurants has a dish that I just love: Hong Kong-style sea bass served over spinach with rice. But it isn’t a plate that will travel well as take out; and besides, a great part of eating out is enjoying the restaurant ambiance. What can I create at home that might be similar?

I found fresh salmon steaks at our local market. In the produce department they had a Swiss chard that I’ve never tried before, ruby red and absolutely gorgeous. Would it be possible to create a variation on their dish? Why not try? Salmon is quite a bit more affordable than sea bass and I love how easy it is to cook.

Incredible color, so crisp the stalks nearly snap off. After washing, into the pot with a bit of sesame oil, garlic powder, and ginger powder. High heat, then cover and set on low heat until the leaves cook down.

It always surprises me how much volume these leafy vegetables lose on cooking. Two bunches were plenty for four people. The sesame oil and ginger give a light Asian feel to the dish that I find appealing and a change-up from my usual “cook it with bacon” approach.

Two salmon steaks marinated in teriyaki sauce for 30 minutes. Cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes at 350. I’m a big fan of garlic so these got an extra sprinkle.

Teriyaki salmon served with ruby red chard and rice. And to keep the color theme going, strawberry shortcake for dessert. Enjoy!

Discovering Family Recipes

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Lately I’ve been on a sort-of comfort food quest. I suppose it has a lot to do with all of us being quarantined, our typical schedules disrupted and travel restricted. Usually when I’ve got an urge to try something new for dinner, we just get on Yelp and see what’s near us, what looks good and go.

These are different times and I really do prefer to try and make it at home rather than ordering curbside pick up or delivery. With that thought in mind, I’ve been in search of recipes from my wife’s Puerto Rican heritage, either foods her Mother used to make, or dishes we have enjoyed on our visits to the Island. This week I tried my hand at another family favorite, Pastelon. It’s  essentially a layered dish similar to a lasagne, though made with plantains, accompanied by red beans and rice.

I’ve acquired several cookbooks of Puerto Rican cuisine thru the years, the one I turn to most often is Puerto Rican Cookery. But like many guys with only rudimentary kitchen skills, I prefer a cookbook with more pictures, and definitely fewer steps to success. So I’ve turned to the internet, especially YouTube videos for a little help in the kitchen. From making mofongo with shrimp, to pasteles and now pastelon, these often-home-made videos are just the thing for a guy with a short attention span.

Another quality I’ve appreciated about this online cooking resource: I like recipes that feature process over precision. Too many measured ingredients, finessed or tricky processes aren’t for me. “Salt to taste” or “cook for about 45 minutes” are my strengths.

So, for your consideration, my picture-book recipe guide to pastelon. With a few brief explanations as needed. Let me know how you like it in the comments below.

For the picadillo, simmer bell peppers and onions, then add ground meat (I prefer ground pork) and plenty of Adobe, sofrito, oregano for aromatics. This dish is all about the contrast between the sweet plantains and the savory meat layers. Red beans and rice are a great accompaniment. For this size of dish (9″x 9″ baking pan) I used four ripe plantains.

Slice the plantains and fry until golden, drain on paper towels, then start your first layer. An egg wash will help bind the ingredients. Similar to a lasagne, I layered grated mozzarella cheese over the meat layer.

A layer of plantain, egg wash, a layer of meat, and then a layer of cheese. Repeat for a second layer. I topped off with mozzarella and grated cheddar cheese to provide a little color. Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes.

The final dish, served with the red beans and rice, is incredibly satisfying. It was more work than I had expected, which might explain why Yolanda only prepared it on special occasions. The aroma of sweet plantains and I’m longing for another visit to Puerto Rico. Enjoy!

If you enjoy YouTube cooking videos, here is the link to the one I watched. https://youtu.be/Ri-U8-95CG0

An excellent cookbook, I highly recommend Puerto Rican Cookery, by Carmen Aboy Valldejuli

We’ve Been Through This Before

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For the past three weeks I have been house-bound, self quarantined would be today’s expression, not from any result of Corona virus but as I recover from knee surgery.

During that time, I have tried to follow online the progress of the US response to increasing numbers of afflicted individuals and communities across America. School closures, limiting the size of groups, church worship services going to online streaming rather than meeting in person, work schedules allowing for telework, and job loss: all of these have affected our family as well as countless families in our communities.

But what has struck me personally have been the food shortages at our local grocery. While the President has urged Americans to use restraint, not to hoard, that there is plenty of material in the supply line, it still seems as if many of the items we put on our shopping list are not available. Who would have thought that, along with toilet paper, there wouldn’t be any ground beef or milk, let alone bread, in the grocery aisles?

WWII rationing from The Ames History Museum. https://ameshistory.org/content/world-war-ii-rationing-us-homefront

Which in turn got me thinking of rationing and the days during World War 2 and America’s response during that time period. The Greatest Generation stepped up with a resilience I’m not sure we are seeing yet in our people. While President Trump has said that we are in a war with an invisible enemy.


“I do, I actually do, I’m looking at it that way,” Trump told reporters during a press briefing at the White House when asked whether he considered the U.S. to be on a wartime footing. “I look at it, I view it as, in a sense, a wartime president. I mean, that’s what we’re fighting.

“To this day, nobody has ever seen like it, what they were able to do during World War II,” he continued. “Now it’s our time. We must sacrifice together, because we are all in this together, and we will come through together. It’s the invisible enemy. That’s always the toughest enemy, the invisible enemy.”

https://www.politico.com/news/2020/03/18/trump-administration-self-swab-coronavirus-tests-135590


I asked my Mom, who was 12 at the start of WWII, what she remembered about the time, especially how food rationing would have affected her family. Her responses really had more to say about the change in America over the past 70 some odd years than any individual shortage of TP.

“We were not allowed to read newspapers nor listen to the radio. What money I made baby sitting and house cleaning for other people, Mother kept. She did send me to the store once  to buy Snowflake Soda Crackers for 31 cents.  I know leather was rationed, but we only got one pair of shoes a year, so that was no problem.  Meat was rationed , but we could not afford it anyway, sothat didn’t affect us. We had cows, so lots of milk;  we had chickens so we did have chicken on Sunday; usually with a soldier or two, or sailors.

The Arrowhead Springs Hotel in the foothills beneath the big bare arrow head on the mountain had been turned into a naval hospital.  Mother would call the USO and have them send a couple of guys out for Sunday dinner.   And we had plenty of eggs.  Mother did not tell us what anything cost, nor whether it was difficult to get anything.  We didn’t go shopping; Mother made most of our clothes…at least  the girl’s.

Mom (third from right) with her siblings.

I don’t think we were affected all that much by the rationing.  We got hamburger and made spaghetti…big pots of it.  We grew vegetables, had a small orchard of fruit trees, orange and lemon and a few others. (They were living in Southern California at the time.)

From the time I was about eight, we had dancing and music lessons; we sang in the children’s choir at church, played in the children’s orchestra on Wednesday at the high school, and on Saturday at the high school during the summer.  We belonged to the Y, and had library cards. We were really very busy.” Lora Lea Willis Chamberlin

For an interesting perspective on rationing during that time, take a look here: https://ameshistory.org/content/world-war-ii-rationing-us-homefront

We Met a Neighbor

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We met one of our neighbors over the weekend. Which, on the face of it, shouldn’t be that unusual. But we’ve been in our townhome nine months now and so far we’ve only met the couple who lives next door to us. And that was only after I knocked on their door to offer our parking place (they appeared to be planning for a party, which turned out to be a baby shower).

When we moved into the culdesac of townhomes, I was certain we would soon get to know all the neighbors. After all, being retired I’m home most of the day, I walk up to get the mail at the community mailbox, I take the trash out twice a week. Surely we would be getting to know our neighbors soon, even if this is a community in which everyone seems to work during the day.

Our previous home was a single family split level in a small community. For a time I had served on the Home Owners Association. Whenever there was a major snow storm or other weather-related event, the neighbors would all be out either shoveling driveways and sidewalks, or walking thru the neighborhood looking for storm damage. And as an association member, I met a lot of people at our community festivals. It seemed natural to me then that we would soon know everyone in our new community. Not so.

Deb and I were napping in the living room when I heard a knock at the door. We have a doorbell so I just ignored the sound. But a few minutes later, they nocked again, a little louder, a bit more insistent. Since I’m not very mobile while recovering from surgery, Deb had to get up and check the door. She was met with a woman standing there holding several plastic bags, her purse, and something covered in a dish towel. 

Allison, our neighbor three doors down, explained that she had been wanting to meet the “new neighbors” for sometime now but hadn’t found a convenient time. She explained that she hadn’t seen us for several days and thought perhaps something was up? 

Dish towel

But this really floored me: she handed us a fresh-baked loaf of sourdough bread, carefully wrapped in a towel, as a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift. Who does that anymore? I asked if she was from the Midwest but she said no, from the Seattle, Washington area. That explained the sourdough bread, which she explained was her “go-to” bakery gift item. My favorite, I exclaimed!

She stayed for twenty minutes or so, we learned about their family, shared about what drew us to the area and why we were downsizing, and expressed how we hoped to be better neighbors. 

We got a chance to really meet a neighbor, and as life would have it, they are getting ready to move. 

“The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:31

Dear Younger Me

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Me at 26, posing with one of my acrylic paintings.

The group Mercy Me had a song back in 2014 titled “Dear Younger Me.” Reflecting on the distance between our present and the possibilities of our past, the second verse goes like this:

Dear younger me
I cannot decide
Do I give some speech about how to get the most out of your life
Or do I go deep
And try to change
The choices that you’ll make cuz they’re choices that made me

I’m 26 at the time, had graduated from college four years before and then moved to Southern California. I had originally intended on attending graduate school in San Diego. I got a job, found an apartment, changed jobs a couple of times. It was several years later that I realized I had given up on the idea of graduate school and ever pursuing a career in art. A fork in the road I never saw coming.

Thirteen years out of high school I joined the Army. Enlisting at 31 was a challenge I was physically up for, but one I wasn’t really mentally prepared to take on. Nearly everyone I served with was younger than me, including the lieutenant in charge of our platoon. I settled in to my job as a cartographer, relished my time in Germany, but decided that a career in the military was not for me. I got out of the service and decided to stay in the Washington, D.C. area. Another fork in the road, though this time I thought I knew where it would lead. I was hoping for a job at the Smithsonian: that never happened and I settled back into a career in graphic art production.

I’ve lived in Virginia over thirty years now and looking back at some of those early decisions, I’ve often wondered what would have happened differently? Had I stayed in Nevada; had I gone on to graduate school and not moved to California; had I not joined the Army; had I moved back to the west coast and stayed there?

The Old Testament Book of Jeremiah has a verse that many people have committed to memory. “I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.” Jeremiah 29:11

It seems we’ve gotten so good at looking at out GPS maps on our phones, planning out the way we should go to get to our destinations, always looking forward, that we’ve lost a desire to turn around and look back from where we’ve come. A verse like Jeremiah’s begins to make sense when we take the time to look back and nod, “Oh yes, now I see how that turn in the road led to this decision. How that move opened up the door to this experience, which lead me here today. How even in the small decisions, God was guiding me to Him.”

“Do I go deep and try to change the choices that you’ll make cuz they’re choices that made me?” No, but I wish I could tell Younger Me how to get the most out of our life. To enjoy the hills and valleys, sharp turns and mountain views, knowing that God really does have a hope and a future prepared for us. I know it would take some of the anxiety out of life, just knowing that He’s got this, that it’s going to be OK.

“Dear Younger You: Trust Me. It really is going to be OK. I’ve got this.” God.

“Many, Lord my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us.” Psalm 40:5

Listen to the full music video from Mercy Me here

Painting Goals

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Still life
Still life with oranges, lemons, and limes.

For much of my elementary school years I was known as the boy who liked to draw. I was also known as the boy who needed glasses, but that’s another story. As far back as I can remember, I would be drawing, usually skies full of clouds, eagles flying over mountains, or dead trees in the desert. And quite often I would be one of the students chosen to help the teacher decorate the classroom bulletin board. From about second grade on, all I wanted to do was Art.

So it seems strange to me looking back that I don’t remember having taken any art classes during those years. Yet once I got to middle school and art was an elective, I took as many classes as allowed. The same in high school. In college my major was studio art. My entire life I had expected that I would eventually be a professional artist, or at least have a career in the arts. And for the most part I did, having spent more than 25 years in the graphic arts and art production fields. 

However, at no time had I ever taken an art education class. In fact, as much as I endorse the arts in school, it’s been a mystery to me how teachers actually encourage and develop any child’s interest in art. Walking thru school hallways decorated with student artwork, I had no idea what it takes to get a nine year-old to settle down and actually paint, with a brush and paints, a still life in front of them. 

Several weeks ago I had the opportunity to spend an afternoon giving “art lessons” to my young niece and nephew. They arrived with paints, brushes, and canvases ready to create. For my part, I had snacks for the kids and a bowl full of fruit we set up as a still life. For two hours we worked at seeing the subject in front of us; drawing the outline of oranges, lemons, and limes in a bowl; mixing paints and getting used to the effects of different-sized brushes. It was a grand experiment in finding out how little I know about actually teaching others. 

When their Mom came and retrieved them later that day, I experienced a sense of relief mixed with fatigue. I can’t imagine what school teachers go thru to prepare lessons and keep the attention of a room full of children, even when it’s something they like to do. I had my hands full keeping one nine year old boy focused on not getting paint all over himself and his sister while working on a project they could take home. 

Imagine my surprise then to learn from their Mom how they thought the afternoon had gone. A few days later she had texted me this report: “The whole car ride home was all about how amazing it was and how much they learned – especially about using water and mixing the paints!”

And I’m OK with that. I learned that you have to tailor your goals to the age of the participant (dolt! Of course). And if all we did that day was learn how to mix a nice lime green, then that’s OK too. Next time I’ll be ready: more snacks and bigger brushes. Smaller goals and time spent encouraging young people to learn as they go can be very satisfying at any age.

“Then Moses said to the Israelites, “See, the Lord has chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills— to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood and to engage in all kinds of artistic crafts. And he has given both him and Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, the ability to teach others.” Exodus 35:30-34

Downsizing

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I’ve been thinking a lot about downsizing recently. Not in a “Honey, I Shrank the Kids” kind of way, or a “let’s sell everything and live in a yurt” way either. More along the lines of “do I need a crockpot and an instapot, along with two types of coffee makers and a water seltzer machine” kind of way.

Tiny house, Portland
Tiny House, Portland (creativecommons.org)

As we were putting away the ornaments from this year’s Christmas tree, we began asking each other questions. Smaller tree, fewer ornaments , which ones do we think we’ll use next year, what to do with the ones we won’t? At dinner with the kids that week we asked them, and got the answer we were expecting: no, but thank you.

How many of our possessions and collections of things accumulated over the years have just been taking up space in our homes and in our lives? Bought for a purpose at one time or received as gifts, but now adding to the massive truck load of Stuff that gets boxed and stored each time we move. It seems as if new things come and take up residence in our lives on an ongoing basis, joining old things that never seem to move out. 

A brief Google search returned an overwhelming number of blogs dedicated to simple living. With so much written on the topic, one would think we were all living in tiny houses, growing fresh herbs in our pocket gardens while we shop local at the Farmers Market. Somehow, I don’t think that is the case with many of the people I know. But for what it’s worth, simplify and minimize sound like attractive goals in our materialistic, fill up the house with stuff, lives.

Most of the blogs started to sound alike: 8 Essential Rules For Living With Less; 22 Ways to Simplify Your Life and Make Time for What Matters; 19 Ways to Simplify Your Life…you get the picture. More rules than any of us have time for, really.

An online article (www.wsj.com) at least gave us a place to start.

  • Find someone who can help you sort things out, who doesn’t have the emotional weight of ownership and can help you make hard decisions. A friend or coworker perhaps who can Help Organize. I found this extremely helpful at work when it came time to pack up my office.
  • We are all familiar with the Keep, Give to Family, Donate, Throw Away rubric. Whether you place it into bags for donating, or simply mark it with color-coded stickers for action later, the goal is to make a decision now.
  • Don’t tackle it all at once. When we decided to move to a smaller home, we took the three months prepping the house for sale to also begin pruning our stuff. Much of it went to Salvation Army. Some of it we sold online. But truthfully, a lot of it went to the dump.

It’s hard to fight the urge to buy new; we are constantly being fed media messages to replace, acquire, increase, purchase: a steady diet of materialism. In our case, we know that one day we will downsize again. But with each move, I’ve found even more freedom from the grasp of our possessions. We actually can live smaller, and enjoy it too.

“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” Matthew 6:24