Another smoothie gets its picture taken

My blender might be my first/oldest appliance, now that I think about it. It was the perfect college gift. If you had a blender in college, I figured, it meant you were healthy and liked to have fun, because it can be used for both nutritional smoothies and blended margaritas. That's how I intended to use mine, at least. But I was never really satisfied with the way it blended ice - it left large ice chunks in a watery mess. So I primarily used my blender for a smoothie concoction of cran-raspberry juice, yogurt, frozen berries and banana during my senior year of college. I did this a lot and felt healthy.

When I noticed my pants getting tighter and examined my diet, I realized how much sugar I was consuming each morning. Since then I've equated smoothies with dessert and consume them as such, i.e., almost never. For the last decade, my blender has lived in a dark cupboard and is used occasionally for blending soups and other odd-jobs.

Randomly, on Thursday, some online health food gurus began working their ways into my brain. I needed to get more greens with every meal, they said. Smoothies were the way. On Friday, I made a smoothie. But it was a grown-up one, with gobs of spinach, some blueberries, banana, kefir and maca powder. The gurus also said you really need a high-powered blender, but since I didn't add ice, my trusty Oster pulled through just fine. The result: kinda brown, not too sweet, a little nutty and tangy. Thick and luscious.

I'm not sure it's the answer to my weekday breakfast, because my stomach started growling an hour earlier than normal, so if I want to keep this up I'll need to experiment with things, perhaps adding more protein or eating something in addition to the smoothie, or just be more prepared to have a morning snack.

If you want to try my version, here's the approximate recipe. Both the kefir and maca powder were purchased at Trader Joe's. 

2 cups of spinach

1/2 c. frozen blueberries

1 banana

1 c. low-fat kefir

1 T. maca powder

1/2 c. cold water

Serves 2

Slap that sage: Milk Street's Cinnamon-Smoked Whiskey Sour

About a decade ago, we got into making cocktails. Like, really into it. We used to go out to bars in Spokane and hopefully but pointlessly ask for things that no one in our Redbull-loving city carried yet, like Fernet Branca, Cynar, genever, Aperol, Punt e Mes, St. Germaine, Luxardo and other assorted specialty gins and whiskies. When we traveled to Seattle or San Francisco, we sought out fancy cocktails and places to purchase these bottles and ended up with a really weird collection of booze over the years. Joel and I introduced friends to Aperol spritzes, capped off dinner parties with decadent layered shots, and collected descriptions of peoples' first tastes and impressions (mostly levels of disgust) of Fernet. With time, Spokane caught up a little with the opening of places like Bon Bon, Clover, Casper Fry and Durkins. We, in the meantime, joined a wine club and changed the focus of our drink snobbery. Mixing drinks is a rare occasion now and has mostly morphed into simple (or lazy, in my case) concoctions based on what we have in the house, no more than two ingredients, and often, just Maker's Mark or Fernet on ice. Our current joy is a little glass of vermouth on the rocks.

But this was New Year's Eve 2018, and I just received a recipe for Cinnamon-Smoked Whiskey Sours in an email from Milk Street. The ingredients were simple enough to procure on a moment's notice, and we had most of them except for the citrus. And the smoked cinnamon provided me an opportunity to light something on fire. I felt the spirit of 2010 - i.e., my enthusiasm for mixed beverages - working its way back into my soul. Part of the reason this spirit ever existed at all is because Joel is the actual cocktail maker. He's great at it. I make up the accompanying snack board. And, as the case may be, I light the cinnamon.

We sipped these while watching a slideshow of our photos from 2018, and I was filled with all sorts of nostalgia. It was a good ending to a year.

I'm sure this beverage would be great without the smoked cinnamon, but don't shortchange yourself. It really is a simple enhancement that goes a long way and makes things feel more festive.


Cinnamon-Smoked Whiskey Sour for Two
adapted from Milk Street

4 oz. bourbon
1 oz. maple syrup
1 oz. lime juice
3 oz. grapefruit juice
1/2 oz. orange juice, plus 2 strips of orange zest
4 fresh sage leaves
2 cinnamon sticks

Light one end of a cinnamon stick so it briefly catches on fire, then as it extinguishes, place it on a heatproof surface and cover it with your cocktail glass to catch the smoke. Do this with the second stick and glass.

Mix all the liquids in a cocktail shaker with ice and shake vigorously for about 15 seconds.

Take a moment to smell how good the cinnamon smoke is when you lift up the glasses. The cinnamon sticks can now be discarded, or perhaps you can use the other ends for future drinks.

Double strain the shaker liquid into the glasses. Garnish with orange zest. Slap the sage leaves and drop into the cocktails.

Enjoy.

Holiday tonic

A number of fun, important things happened at our house in recent days. One was Thanksgiving, our first time ever to host, and the first time ever to seat more than 8 people around our table (a total of 11). Another was getting our parents (Joel’s and mine) in the same place long enough to share a meal and get to know each other in person for the first time in 8 years. It was a sweet evening that meant a lot to us. And another was paying our first sizable vet bill after our very playful cat accidentally - I'm being gracious here - snagged our sweet, trouble-avoidant dog, right on the eyelid. That doesn't really fit in the "fun" or "important" category, but it happened when everything else did. After some stitching and dental work while they were at it, she’s OK now, off drugs and no longer wearing the cone of shame.

But I'm still basking in the afterglow of those first two things. The Thanksgiving menu was something we planned for at least a month. As soon as we knew we were hosting, Joel got on a jag of thinking outside the turkey. At first I resisted (my one chance to roast an entire turkey!), but then I realized it might be kind of fun. So, for instance, instead of preparing a whole bird, we opted for several boneless breasts which we slow-roasted and glazed using this recipe. Instead of mashed potatoes, Joel whipped up one of our now-favorite risottos with caramelized fennel and onion. There were more traditional pairings in the mix, too, including these rolls, and though we worried there wouldn't be enough food, or that people would be disappointed that there were no sweet potatoes on their plate, everything turned out just fine, and I'd be happy to do it all over again. Thinking back on all of the planning, I already have sweet memories of the occasional argument over whether or not we should have potatoes, and the moment we discovered that slow-cooked onions just kind of taste like bland onions, and the feeling of being a good team in the kitchen. 

But what I'm here to tell you about now is drinking, of the somewhat healthy but festive variety. In the midst of dreaming and scheming our Thanksgiving plans, I came across an article in Rodale's Organic Life about fall shrubs. This has nothing to do with the plant variety, but the ultra-trendy, hipster tonic variety. I committed myself to making the apple shrub on a Saturday, which was simply a matter of slicing several pounds of Granny Smiths, covering them in brown sugar and cinnamon, refrigerating them for several days, stirring them each day, then straining on a Monday and mixing with apple cider vinegar. Best part, you can then snack on the apples or use them to bake into a quick dessert! The article described handing these refreshing apple shrubs to guests as they came in from the cold, either mixed with sparkling water or bourbon…or both. 

Unfortunately, a week later, this cozy image was quickly forgotten on Thanksgiving after we’d decided cranberry mimosas would be a festive morning drink for everyone. Oops. But who can go wrong with a festive mimosa?

Not to worry, though! Snow is in the forecast and I'm coming in from the cold each day and can mix up one of these refreshing tonics for myself. Depending on the hour, bourbon is added. And/or ginger ale. This sounds good. Experiment with your own, or come over and help me drink mine.

To our health!

Apple Shrub
from Rodale's Organic Life

9 Granny Smiths, washed and sliced into 8 slices each
4 c. loosely packed brown sugar
2 T. ground cinnamon
1 c. apple cider vinegar

Place all ingredients except the vinegar in a very large bowl or container. Stir for 5 minutes, then cover and place in the fridge. Stir the mixture again the next day, and one more day after that. After that (the third day), get your biggest strainer or colander and dump the mixture into it over another large bowl. You'll probably find some large gloopy chunks. Take a fine strainer and strain those out. Place the apples aside for snacking (I did this for about 3 days) or put into a baking dish and sprinkle your favorite topping over it and bake for dessert. Pour the apple cider vinegar in the strained liquid and stir to combine. Place in a jar and store in the fridge for up to a month.

Catching up

I've written, like, five posts about why I haven't been blogging lately and they're all crap, and I'm realizing that blogging about not blogging is the number-one reason I haven't been blogging. Because it's really boring.

The short version of those scrapped posts: insomnia is the pits. I've spent over a month now with an epic case of insomnia that is just now starting to become manageable, thanks to a book with a super-cheesy title and a supportive partner. I have almost gotten to the point now where I'm actually thankful to have to face this - particularly the root of it - because it's teaching me a lot about stress and anxiety and life beyond insomnia. I'm meditating and changing my internal dialogue and all sorts of other calming things with the power of my mind. Better yet, all this introspection and mindfulness seems to be building a tremendous urge to be creative and active and social and to open myself to new things, if only to refocus my energy and attention on that which is life-giving, and to prevent myself from Googling insomnia forums.

Since my last blog entry, a lot of life-giving summer has happened. We enjoyed a weekend of baseball and family time in Seattle. While there I got to visit both Essex (for cocktails) and Delancey (for pizza), which had long been on my list due to my appreciation of all things Molly Wizenberg. I picked a bunch of cherries, completed my first (and only, so far) canning project, and made bread with my own sourdough starter. I visited my family in Boise. I went to a David Bazan show, and an art opening for my friend and former professor. I finished knitting a pair of socks. I read "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler while finding the title hilariously ironic since I read most of it during sleepless nights. We over-nighted at the lake; we picnicked by the river. We rode our bikes to Sunday brunch and around downtown. We celebrated many family birthdays. I embroidered a shirt for my dad. I planted dahlias, which are now blooming, and tomatoes, which I'm now harvesting. We started watching Stranger Things. We revisited our favorite spots at Bowl & Pitcher. We went to friend's wedding, and to a beer festival. I invented new recipes with my CSA haul. We've taken many walks at sunset, and have driven along the Palouse. We are watching the summer Olympics.

David Bazan

Home from our morning walk - magical June when both peonies and roses are blooming

I love the smell of my hands after touching a tomato plant

A bottle of wine and a piece of river to ourselves

Sourdough starter

Pizza at Delancy

Father's Day present

Making cookies with my niece

Cocktails at the lake

Bing!

Luna loving life

Classic

Boutique pensione bathroom in Seattle

 A few things yet to happen: a roadtrip with the dog (Boise again), a river float/paddle, swimming (!!), and a Spokane Indians baseball game.

Aside from that, there's that festering need to be creative I mentioned above. The other day I challenged myself to commit to a Creative Hour each day. It could be 20 minutes, too, but an hour is a good goal for me. This helps me think about my creativity each day and gives me freedom in how I want to explore it, depending on my mood. This could be anything from trying a new recipe to picking something from a Pinterest board to continuing on the sweater I've been working on. To be honest, I probably already spend an hour on a lot of these things without really thinking of it, but having that "creative hour" lens really makes me feel that much more intentional and willing to branch out.

So that's that. I hope to check in here a bit more, use a camera that is not always my phone, and show proof of my work. That's what I always intend to do, but in summertime, it's sometimes nice to let these things just sit in reflection mode a bit longer. Speaking of reflection, Joel said something perhaps unintentionally profound to me the other day when we came home after a bike ride. He said, "You can ride up any hill as long as you're in the right gear." I thought about this later and how much that spoke to what I'm going through right now. I've had to do a lot of adjusting lately to account for variations in sleep and energy, but I feel like I'm finding a mode and frame of mind that is helping me get through this chapter, however long it lasts. Our ability to adapt is a gift.

The week in photos: Nov. 23

I picked up my camera again this week in an effort to capture the beautiful and the blahs. A few phone photos thrown in for good measure.

We decided to bring champagne cocktails to Thanksgiving dinner. But we had to test a few variations first, of course. We ended up keeping it simple with a cranberry mix, triple sec and Brut with cranberries for garnish.

It's been really tricky taking my daily walks around campus after Windstorm 2015. Destruction everywhere.

It snowed this week so I took the bus to work. It's fun to be downtown.

My trivia team. We play to win. (We even won that Reese's bar.)

Moonset on Thanksgiving morning.

You can't make this stuff up.

Roll dough. I have made Oma's rolls for years and this week I'll post a modernized version of her recipe after trying to decipher my notes along her very basic instructions.

The best spot in the house on a sunny afternoon.

My brother has masted the art of turkey.

Oof

Upon the purchase of our house, my eldest brother told us - in a congratulatory way, I'm sure - that we would never have a free weekend again. Ha, ha. I went away for a few days earlier this month for a conference, and when I returned, Joel had done all these little projects that brought me much joy - everything from hanging up a coat rack to touching up paint inside and out. A new doorknob for the bathroom, too. He repainted the front steps this past week. And me? I'm doing the one thing I know how to do right now: weeding. And looking up how to right all the wrongs of sprinklers, landscape lighting and deck railing...and the number of my nearest handyman. But let's not bore you, eh?

Joel aglow from the reflection of primer.

In the midst of all this, I have been very careful to not let my life get too consumed with my new to-do list. Here are some non-house things I can share that might have some morsel of intrigue for you. Maybe not.

Knitting this Strathcona scarf, in turquoise. This will be my summer scarf.

No more stovetop kettle for me!

Making hot water for coffee and tea with my Bonavita electric kettle, which I bought with birthday money - one of those where you can set the temperature - with a gooseneck spout for dainty pouring. Joel says I'm becoming a temperature snob (and he's right), but truly, I love drinking green tea now because of it.

Reading All the Light We Cannot See.

Making desserts from this gem of a cookbook called Flourless (so far almond-butter chocolate chip cookies and strawberry rhubarb maple cake, which we consumed so fast that I didn't think to take pictures) - thanks, Mom!

Poppy surprise!

Between Two Lilacs

Mourning William Zinsser. Since first reading his On Writing Well in high school, the mere mention of his name reminds me to cut the clutter from my writing. He is also the primary reason it takes me as long as it does to compose an email. Or anything, really. This tribute is touching.

Working out at the bar, which is a really fun thing to tell people. But seriously, it's a workout.

Watering my plants, and recycling my wine bottles, with Plant Nannies. 

A new year

Here we are, at the end of my two-week vacation, and here's a small sampling of what I have to show for it. 

A few weeks ago, Joel came home with a surprise bottle of Calvados, not knowing that I had also purchased a surprise bottle of Laird's Apple Brandy - the stuff you have to order all the way from New York City. 'Twas the season to indulge in these things that often start off as gift ideas for the other person but are clearly meant to be shared.

I know that photos like the one above are not entirely appetizing under harsh lighting, but if you're looking for a delicious chicken katsu curry recipe, take my word for it, this is indeed one. I was hoping to cook more interesting stuff like this over the last two weeks, but this was just one of a few dishes that wasn't leftovers of some bigger, tried-and-true dish (rouladen, roast, prime rib...I ate more red meat in two weeks than I'd eaten all year).

 Are you catching a theme here? It's always about what I ate/drank. I did try a new cookie recipe this Christmas - an America's Test Kitchen recipe for real ginger gingersnaps, which calls for browned butter and pepper and everything you'd ever want in a gingersnap, including the extreme snappiness that calls for hot tea.

We were on our own on Christmas Eve. We watched "Home Alone" for the first time in ages. It's such a snarky comedy - and I couldn't believe what a jerk Kevin was to his parents, or how dumb those burglars were to not look before they took a single step. And yet, the musical theme always makes me a little teary-eyed. The night before we watched "Adventures in Babysitting" - a classic I had never seen. We were truly on a roll.

Yesterday (Jan. 2) we celebrated our second full year with this cat. I love remembering the day we got her and the tiny "meows" she made as she explored each new area of the house, and how excited I felt when she found little spots to curl up and sleep. Then there was the moment when we realized that cats are little terrors in the night who knock things over and howl, who walk across your legs when you're in the middle of a wonderful dream. Alas, she's a cat. But she is kind of the best.

And now we are in a new year. Despite the crazy way we celebrated it - leaving a casino a few dollars poorer, but just in time to catch the fireworks rain over downtown - it feels like the most anticlimactic start to a new year I've ever experienced, and I think it is partly because I started some good new habits at various points last year to counteract the bad ones that kept creeping in. Nevertheless, it should be no surprise to you, after viewing the display of food and drink above, that I'm looking forward to leaner months with more tea and fewer cookies. I'm devoted to writing more things by hand, spending far less time on my personal Facebook account (usually just on Fridays, for about 10 minutes) and far more time on at-home daily routines (I'm a sucker for things like this) and getting better at my job. I borrowed a friend's copy of Zero Waste Home and am trying to incorporate a few of her practices in my ongoing quest to consume less. (I'm also really glad to have people around me who are good at this.) I want to travel more this year (like every year) and already have a few trips in mind. I hope to have more people in my home this year for impromptu drinks or dinner or dessert or tea. I have oodles of craft projects in mind, and am venturing into sewing clothes with knit fabrics instead of stiff cotton ones. In summary, those who know me know that my 2015 resolutions are pretty standard Liz fare. Either way, I'm bound and determined to make something out of them. Cheers to this bountiful year!

Hot evenings were made for this.

Disclaimer: on days like this, we should all drink more water. Drink water all day long. As long as you've done that...

...you've earned one of these when you come home.

Every time Joel, or in this case, I, make a Paloma (that beautiful beverage pictured above), I am stricken with the worst earworm of a German pop hit from the late 1990s by the Ö La Palöma Boys. It was extremely popular when I was over there in high school, in a similar way that Weird Al's "Amish Paradise" was in the states.

I suffer through it because this drink is worth it. It's cold, bubbly and citrusy, and perhaps my favorite vehicle for my least favorite alcohol: tequila.

In most cases, tequila is the same thing as a bad idea: the last-minute, "Why not?" shot that pushes you over the line. In other cases, it's brainlessly paired with Mr. & Mrs. T's Margarita Mix, which has so much sugar you're guaranteed a headache. It wasn't until recently that I drank a margarita without a mix - with real lime juice and triple sec - and realized that tequila is not the enemy I always thought it was. It's still not my favorite flavor, but it is unlike anything else, and I guess that's enough to make me enjoy it on occasion.

The Paloma is on Joel's slate of go-to party beverages: it's easy to prepare and has a perfectly balanced taste, as long as you have grapefruit soda on hand, which is almost never the case. It's become one of those things that I see at the store and think, "Oh yeah, we need grapefruit soda for something..." but can't remember what.

This is what.

La Paloma

2 oz. tequila
pinch of salt
1/2 oz. fresh lime juice
grapefruit soda (I like Izze)

Combine the tequila, salt and lime juice in a high-ball glass. Add ice, top with soda and stir.

Spring exit

Growing up in Boise, rain was exciting. We didn't get it nearly as much as we do in Spokane (or so it seems to me). I have such vivid memories of sitting on the cement with my best friend Laura, watching the drops soak in around us and singing "It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring." Poor old man. He was missing out on a weather event!

At school, the rain didn't often deter our recess unless it was hailing or something, and it was always fun to be out with my see-through umbrella that had a Mickey Mouse pattern on it.

I especially loved rain in the summer, and those times I could float around in the pool while big drops hit the water. Who cares if you get wet? You're already wet.

I still love the smell: mulchy and sweet; the lamp light that warms up the room in the daytime; the hopelessly optimistic rainy-day music it inspires me to think of (besides the aforementioned "Old Man" song) - "Singin' in the Rain," or my favorite, Shirley Temple's "I Love to Walk in the Rain."

It rained for almost two days straight this past week, and I couldn't help but think of old Shirley again (R.I.P.) and feeling "wonderful when the skies above are thunderful." (Here's the clip. Sweet, if a little racially uncomfortable, as was typical of these old musicals.) I wouldn't say that my love of rain is nearly as strong as it was when I was a kid, or if you could even call it a love of rain. In fact, I usually moan about it because it is often followed by dry, gray days around here. But in weeks like this one, when the forecast shows a solidly upward trend toward sun and warm weather by the weekend, I can certainly appreciate the free watering of my garden.

By Wednesday evening, the sun had returned.

 Luna's not really a huge fan of the rain. She needs vitamin D, too. Also: your eyes are not playing tricks on you - there is indeed a fanny pack in the picture. He totally rocks it, too.

I love these furry catalpa leaves.

(Another reason these old neighborhoods are the best: the street names are etched into the sidewalks.)

The eve of summer happens to be about the time Joel and I commemorate the first time we went out as a *couple* instead of just pals, and shortly thereafter launched just about the funnest summer anyone could have. It's time to bring on another. My summer journal begins on Saturday.

Summer Journal: Week 7

 Done and done.

Way to be professional. I haven't let nail polish get this bad since, oh, kindergarten?

Glorious leaves of green and skies of blue.

At Jones Radiator. The neatest little venue we took way too long to check out.

Saying goodbye to my longtime college friend, Crystal, who lives in Louisiana these days. We got to have her back in Spokane for the week.

These are my go-to, lightening-fast, semi-healthy, oatmeal raisin breakfast muffins. This is the recipe I use.

How you know you're in Post Falls, Idaho. (from the White House Grill)

Have you Inland Northwesterners started down the ale trail? We have a bunch of great breweries around this area and as of this weekend they've all been compiled into this lovely map and even incentivized: visit 10 of the breweries and you get a mini-growler. Selkirk Abbey (pictured) was probably our favorite of the day (though we only went to a couple other places). Our Belgian-beer-loving hearts were warmed with each sample.

 Beautifully simple and obvious signage for an auto body shop.

Pixelated but oh, well (phones...). From another place on the Ale Trail: Slate Creek Brewery.