Snow and Spiced Christmas Coffee

Tuesday morning, we woke up to another soft dusting of snow.  I stepped outside and took pictures while my Spiced Christmas Coffee steeped in the French Press on the kitchen counter.

Barnaby supervised me out the front window.

I listened to the shivering high school students complain about going to school on a snow day

 until the bus arrived.  (Don't worry, school was cancelled for them the next morning for freezing fog.)

Then I contemplated the sad state of the cardoon.  Will it survive?

I adore the rugosa rose hips in winter.  They add a festive touch while the garden sleeps.  Or dies.  These low temperatures may have killed many of the new plants that I added this fall.  

I stepped out back and took pictures of the ligularia seed heads while Barnaby helped arrange them for me.  He's so helpful.

Barnaby wrestling with Gunner while Rivan looks on.

Then, I poured my Spiced Christmas Coffee into a thermos and we headed to the dog park.  By the time we returned from the dog park, the snow in our garden had melted.  

Spiced Christmas Coffee

by Laura Heldreth

I like to add some holiday spice to my coffee this time of year.  This coffee reminds me of my favorite spice cake recipe.  Don't forget to add the mace because its sweet spiciness pulls all the flavors together.   

• 4 cups boiling water
• 3 to 5 Tablespoons of your favorite ground coffee
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/8 teaspoon fresh ground nutmeg
• large pinch of mace*
• tiny glug of vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons of sugar (optional)
• cream (optional)

In your four cup French Press, pour the boiling water over the ground coffee and spices.  Let brew for at least five minutes.  Pour and serve or add some cream.

For an extra flourish, add fresh whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. 

*Mace is a spice.  It's the lacy sheath that covers the nutmeg nut.  You can find it on the spice aisle at most supermarkets.  I found my bottle at New Seasons. 

Braised Celery with Oven Roasted Tomatoes

My Victory Garden is shivering while it sleeps.  Brrr...

The temperatures dipped down into the single digits over the weekend and I'm wondering if the rosemary and bay are going to survive.  Only time will tell.

Last Friday, I whipped up our dinner with a nod toward Marcella Hazan and used some oven roasted tomatoes from My Victory Garden.  We both pushed aside the roasted lemon chicken to devour the braised celery with oven roasted tomatoes.  I was astonished.  Braised celery truly is a Genius recipe that surpasses its simple ingredients. 

I always keep a bunch of celery floundering in the crisper to munch on with peanut butter or hummus.  I'm going to give celery center stage more often, now that I know what it can become coaxed gently along with an onion, olive oil, pancetta, and oven roasted tomatoes. I plan on putting this dish on high rotation in my kitchen, perhaps even stirred in with some pasta and topped with parmesan.

You need to try this easy and fantastic recipe!  You'll never look at celery the same way.

Braised Celery with Oven Roasted Tomatoes

adapted slightly from Marcella Hazan's

Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking 

I riffed on Marcella's recipe by using what I had on hand.  This recipe stands up to different proportions of ingredients.  

• 3/4 pound of celery, cut into two inch chunks
• 1 onion, small dice
• 2 T. olive oil
• 3 ounces of pancetta, cut into strips
• 1/2 cup of oven roasted tomatoes
• 2 T. water
• salt

Heat the olive oil over medium heat then add the onion. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt. Saute until the onion starts to turn golden.  Add the pancetta and cook until it for a few minutes.  Then add the celery, water, and oven roasted tomatoes.  Bring to a simmer, stir well, add a lid, then lower the heat to keep it at a low simmer.  

Cook until the celery is tender and slumps in the sauce.  I cooked mine for approximately 45 minutes. Cook it until you sigh when you taste it. Enjoy!

Australia

When I was in grade school, our librarian read us the book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst.  In it the main character, Alexander, has a bad day from a build up of small irritants like waking up with gum in his hair.  I fondly remember the line, “I’m having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day…I think that I’ll move to Australia.”  Possibly, because our librarian built a small fort with a beanbag inside that she referred to as Australia.  She encouraged us to visit Australia and read a book whenever we needed a break.

We have entered The Holiday Corridor where I count down the days to the New Year.  I do not bask in the holiday glow.  I want to, I really do.  But, Christmas stopped being a magical time for me when I was still a little girl and now I simply try to get through the season as gracefully as I can.

I stay busy and tackle fun new recipes like the Turducken.  Such a dreadful name, I prefer Debbie’s suggestion of Duckturken.  And today, I’m going to tackle the Cherpumple, a crazy compilation of three pies baked into three cakes that I hope to bring to the band booster party tomorrow night.  Fingers firmly crossed.  I’ve learned that you need to make your own Australia.   

P.S. Have a wonderful holiday season!

And if you struggle with the blues and winter sadness, please know that you are not alone.

By the Thousands

Two blocks North of our home sits a huge field complete with an irrigation ditch and a massive oak tree.  A bald eagle screams down it's blood curdling cry whenever I walk there and blue herons, cranes, and geese are frequent visitors.

Every summer, corn is grown in the field and is harvested in one fell swoop, possibly for the dairy across the street.

Three weeks ago, the tractors arrived and harvested the corn.  

The next day, Canadian Geese started gathering by the thousands for a giant jamboree. 

They mucked about in the muddy field nibbling on fallen corn kernels and chatted about life like a group of senior citizens with their hearing aids turned off.  

Whenever anyone came too close, they launched into the air with a collective thunder of wings and flew in a pulsating cloud while yelling at the intruder.

Then the temperature dropped one night to 24 degrees and locked the corn kernels in the frozen mud and the Canadian Geese flew over our house in massive screaming V's.  Barnaby and The Assistant barked out the back window at the passing birds.  And I felt winter arrive with their departure.  

Our Happy Little Graduate!

Barnaby passed his obedience test! (Phew) Now he knows the basics of obedience.  This week, we begin our intermediate classes.  Hooray!

Being obedient is exhausting work.