Author: kyce

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February Reckoning

Goodness, is it already time to tally up our monthly accrual of plastic waste again?

More milk caps, a lollypop wrapper, a plastic lined macaroni and cheese packet, some wrapping from something or other, rubber bands and plastic tags from produce (you can safely bet that there were a few more of these that got swept away during dinner cleanup).

Now is as good a time as any to bring up the butcher paper quandary. It’s surely plastic lined. We’re eating a lot less meat these days, but still, it’s not something we’re ready to give up completely (and no store will let me bring home raw meat in my own container). So that’s one area where I’m compromising. You don’t see that here because saving paper with raw meat juice on it would be a health hazard.

One other slip I had this month was buying fresh local lamb at the farmer’s market before I realized it came in a plastic vacuum sealed bag. Did I already tell you about that? It was a bummer.

Other than that, and the mail ordered yarn with plastic labels (it was wholesale!),  we seem to be doing well.

Now this pile is from our CSA. It has been an ongoing challenge for me to find ways to make the CSA experience a waste free one. This winter our CSA, which we otherwise love, has gone a little plastic bag crazy, pre-bagging just about everything. I end up carefully emptying the food from it’s plastic bags and putting it into my cloth ones. The plastic ones I give back, but sometimes they aren’t reusable–torn or dirty. Yes, it’s wasteful-ish. But I want to make the point that this is unwanted. The plastic shown in this picture is from things I couldn’t do that with — they had frozen veggies or fruit in them. I could have turned the food down, but I’d already paid for them and it’s a strange grey area for me. Would you say no to pomegranate apple juice with your name on it? On the bright side, a CSA is a great place to actually have an influence about changing wasteful practices. My voice has been heard and they are slowly making changes. And the benefits of the local, seasonal fare are worth fighting for. Besides, each of those baggies will get re-used about a hundred times around here, so they aren’t really trash yet.

Please note: This doesn’t represent all the plastic we threw out this month, only new items we purchased post 1/1/10 and have already used up. Not included are pre 2010 yogurt containers used to freeze food, many times re-used bread and produce bags that are just too funky to keep around, toothpaste caps, and other things from our pre-fast days that are just now leaving the home. Also not included are things given to us by friends–if someone brings a pint of fresh olives or a bag of chips to the house, we follow No Impact Man’s lead and enjoy the generous gesture and camaraderie, and take a break from tallying.

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Kicking Corporations Out of the Kitchen

Recently my friend Jenny and I were waxing poetic about cooking from scratch. We covered the joys of self-reliance and creativity, frugality and reduced waste, and then she reminded me that many health food brands are owned by corporate food companies. So I added “act of protest” to my list of reasons why the Lost Kitchen Arts matter so much to me.

Curious to know more, I did a quick search and found this interesting chart that breaks down ownership of brands that would be familiar to anyone who shops at health food stores. Hmm. Food for thought, indeed. I’m not going to try to interpret this information. Just putting it out there in case you, like me, want to know just what you are supporting with your grocery money.

I will say, though, that I now have one more reason to celebrate the beauty of mixing a few simple ingredients into as pure a form of edible love as I might ever find, all the while reclaiming my role as a provider of true sustenance.

And no, that’s not for sale.

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Homemade Crackers

(Oops, I accidentally posted this while still in draft form. Here’s something more coherent.)

I had an epic day in the kitchen this week, mostly involving my big sack of New Mexican whole wheat flour. As the snow swirled down outside, I puttered away, making bread and yogurt, then two cherry-peach tarts (with frozen fruit from last summer), then egg noodles and goat milk ricotta for ravioli. I figured while I had the big sack of flour out and getting all over the place, and the oven roaring, I should make some crackers, which after our long deprivation, we seem to inhale by the dozen. It was a day of creativity and sustenance, the steady rhythms of measuring and mixing fueled by inspiration and an adventurousness that used to find its powder day outlet in the mountains rather than in the kitchen with flour flying everywhere.

::

Maybe crackers seem like an obvious thing to make from scratch, but to me they were a final frontier. So necessary, and yet so…impossible. Or did I think them boring? But they’re lovely and oh so simple (how could they not be given that so many other things that have no business acting like crackers often do?). Best of all they contain only the ingredients I actually want to put in, rather than all the white flour and cane sugar and what all the store-bought ones contain. It should also come as no surprise that they are cheap. This recipe is a simple foundation, a blank canvas for your culinary genius. No part of it is set in stone, and everything is up for adaptation.

Whole Wheat Crackers

Sift

2 cups whole wheat flour, or flour of choice. (I like to add in at least a 1/2 cup of cornmeal or rye. Adjust accordingly.)

3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

blend

1/2 cup melted butter or oil

1 spoonful (you decide which spoon!) honey or molasses

2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar

About 1 1/2 cup of water, but not all at once.

Note: The right moisture content is key to happy rolling–add water in small amounts until the dough is smooth and elastic. My flour seems like a sponge, it takes in so much moisture (we’re all a little dry here in the high desert) so what works for me might be way too much for you. Do not attempt to roll out crumbly dough. It might make you cry in frustration and curse my name. If the dough becomes too sticky, sprinkle with flour.

Roll dough out thinly, and cut out with cookie cutters or into strips or squares.

They can bake at 400 degrees for 8-10 minutes, until golden. They might come out a little soft, but will turn crispy when cool.

Variations:

~ lightly press poppy or sesame seeds into top of rolled dough–we call these birdseed crackers

~replace water with apple juice and add a few dashes of cinnamon

~brush with olive oil and sprinkle on dried herbs and parmesan

~brush with egg and top with raisins and sliced almonds

~replace 1/4 cup butter/oil with 1/4 cup nut butter

~add a dash of  your favorite curry spices, and granulated garlic or onions

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Breaking Trail

It’s not always easy getting out the door and up the mountain

{inner and outer storms, missing mittens, spilled tea, etc.}

The adventure begins when we give in, and give way…

{I said Cora needed a nap, he said if we hurried we’d get first tracks.}

…When we learn to glide through the realm of what is.

{He was right.}

Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, we find our way.

{So was I.}

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For all of it

For the days of hard work and the sweet rest that follows;

for naps with my little one, and the time we spend awake before even the roosters next door crow;

for a return to pen and paper and the stories my heart wants to tell;

for the challenges of tension and hardness that gives way to connection and softness;

for the icicles crashing from the northern eaves of this home and the leaves poking from wet earth like the return of old friends;

for the cycles of creativity and fertility that move us from production to fallowness, and from speaking to listening;

for the mystery of all of this unfolding,

I give thanks.

::

I made this little scene with cutouts from a calendar years ago, and sadly have forgotten the name of the artist. Do any locals recognize the work?

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In Praise of (durable, necessary) Plastic

a couple of my favorite pieces of plastic…

and the places they take me.

Given this scheme of ours to not bring any new plastic into our home for four months (and beyond), you might have thought this was easy for me. You might have mistaken me for some kind of hard core enviromama with a baby in wool nappies, a kitchen full of sprouting trays, and a candle lantern glowing in the background. Well, I won’t say that I haven’t tried any of those things, but let me just remind you that a few short months ago, I did most of my shopping at Trader Joe’s. Enough said. For the sake of balance, (plastic gets such a bad rap on this blog!) I’d like to give all my favorite plastic things (at least the ones I know of no alternative to) a little shout out:

::  Gloves, ski pants, parka. You guys are the greatest. Backcountry skis and tele boots. Adjustable poles. Hell yeah.

:: Vauum cleaner. Especially the hose…

:: Helmets! Bike pumps and tires. Carseat. Car, too.

:: Water bottle sport cap, I can’t believe the level to which I love you. Please do not break or start leaking any time soon.

:: Camera, computer, pens. Guitar strings and tuning pegs. Oh geez, the stereo!

:: PLU diaper covers. Snappi. Nylon backpack.

:: Ziploc freezer bags full of apples, tamales, green chile.

:: Buckets. Diaper pail. Salad spinner. Toothbrush.

:: Oilcloth – you of the incomparable beauty and usefulness.

Plastic is, as you no doubt know, amazing. It has given us many wonderful gifts in the last sixty or so years. As a nurse, I’ve used it to save lives. As a citizen of the world, I know the time has come for me to see how far I can go without it, if not to save the planet, then at least to stop harming it in the simple ways available to me. This list is short, yeah?  Plastic is great, but it’s far from everything.

What’s on your list?

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Handful of Love

A handful of love from the land,

snow covered and sleeping, now,

but ever and always life giving.

That thick blanket of snow will soon give way

to rivers and returning birds,

to waking animals,

sprouting seeds and budding flowers.

—

The turning wheel pauses for an instant

as we look around with love struck eyes

at the bountiful lives we lead.


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Beginning Anew

Oh, friends, this life isn’t always easy, is it?

Here we are doing the best we can,

and then someone comes along and tells us to use less plastic.

Or to be a better mother.

Or   ____ .

Whew.

Maybe it’s ourselves doing the commanding, or maybe it comes from outside.

Maybe it’s an unwelcome burden.

Maybe it’s an opening and an opportunity.

Sometimes it’s both.

Either way, maybe this can help:

Beginning Anew means expressing our regret for mistakes we have made in the past coupled with a deep and transforming energy to act differently from now on. Because we know that we can act differently, we do not need to feel guilt.

The principle meaning of the practice of Beginning Anew is to bathe in the water of compassion.

–Thich Nhat Hanh Touching the Earth

::

May you –and I and we–know compassion for ourselves as we discover our capacity for Beginning Anew.

Again and again and again.


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Live and Learn Part II: The Vital Wheat Gluten Fable

The day came when I really wanted vital wheat gluten. I assure you it seemed absolutely necessary. At one store it was sold in plastic bags. So of course I didn’t buy it. At the next store I saw it in a cardboard box. Jackpot!

Not quite.

I’m not sure if it was my all consuming desire that blinded me to the fact that inside that little box would be a plastic bag (like 99.2% of food sold in cardboard boxes). I thought it might be like baking soda, or mac and cheese, you know. But of course it wasn’t, and I got twice the packaging I would have ended up with if I’d just bought the plastic bag.

Here’s the kicker. A week later, back at the first store, I found it in bulk. Ack! (True to my principles, I had looked for it in bulk, but at the second store, not the first. Confused? Yeah.)

Now, I don’t go beating myself up for these accidental transgressions. It just annoys me that my unintentional “slips” are for things like vital wheat gluten instead of, say, blueberries (which we are really missing these days).

So what is the takeaway message from this little goosechase? I’m tempted to say it’s don’t give up–Just say no! So, so many of the things we need, excluding printer cartridges and that sort of thing, can be found in a plastic-free form. But for me the real lesson was to just keep on keeping on…and not worry too much about my lack of x-ray vision.

Which reminds me that I’m still looking for a plastic-free source of wool stuffing. If you happen to know of anyone who offers it in a paper bag, do tell.