Wanting to...

I read a blog called Orangette, written by the lovely Molly (last name here) who has a book published now called A Homemade Life. You should go read them both. I just discovered her, or rather my mother discovered her and then passed her knowledge to me, this past summer. Now, I am catching up by reading her entries from 2004. They are so lovely, I can't figure out which thing she makes me want to do--cook like she does, or live in Seattle, or write like her, or have her friends and family.

But then I realize, oh so happily, that I have all those same happinesses. I don't even have to worry about it, because I too have wonderful memories of friends and food, and all have been just as wonderous as hers even though most have taken place in Kansas.

Lately I have been remembering my endlessly amazing friends from high school, whom I miss with the same ferocity as I did when we first left Topeka for schools spread out across half the country. It is overwhelming--the mixture of gratefulness and happiness I feel when I remember the times we've had, and sadness I feel because they've already happened. It always make me think of that Joni Mitchell song--"don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone"--which is so true and seemingly inescapable. But it is also these friends who defeat all the scariness of life by proving they will not disappear, that this is not yet over. Ah, the joy of knowing there are good things to come!!

Unrelated-ly...

Last week, I was having a very bad day, and I just wanted to come home and cook something. I have been wanting to make banana bread ever since the week before I moved out of my house in Lawrence and tried to make time to use the 38 or so frozen bananas we had for bread but failed. Luckily, my parents and current roommates also have frozen bananas. Much to my dismay, however, I remembered upon sifting my mother's banana bread recipe out of my file that it calls for BUTTERMILK. BUTTERMILK. Let me tell you, one of my least favorite things is wanting to make something fairly ordinary like banana bread and not being able to because you lack something like BUTTERMILK. Which is so close to being regular milk. Which no one ever has in their refrigerator. Which you can buy, but rarely do you need all of it for the recipe you are making.

But, this banana bread is special. To me, it is special simply because it's the banana bread my mother has always made and I will never think any other banana bread is as good. To her, it is special because the late great Emily Carmona, a feisty friend of hers who died suddenly a few years ago, gave it to her. Isn't it funny how significant a recipe can become under these circumstances? I have thought of making other banana breads, just for the sake of trying them, but I never feel like it would be right to do at my parents' house. Here, Emily lives on in small things like banana bread and found pennies. They become instilled with this higher function of reminding us to appreciate and remember. Is this a rare way of thinking? Ideas like this one are what make it hard for me to be vegetarian or vegan or any kind of restricted eater.

Anyway, apparently BUTTERMILK IS used in other things, because there is now a half-used bottle in my fridge. And tonight, it will be taken out, mixed with other things, and after they all cook together, I'm going to cut them up and dunk them in coffee and be grateful.

The Catholics

I was trying to fall asleep tonight, having just compiled a mix CD for the garage sale I am helping my mother and aunt run tomorow, and I realized something. Tonight at my Lawrence Fair Trade meeting, we were talking about a grant we applied for through Catholic Relief Services last year, which we didn't get. The reasons we didn't get it were because we don't do very much with catholic groups, and we don't have a strong relationship with CRS. Tonight, a couple of comments were made about catholics, similar to comments which have been made before--we're talking mild, but still. I didn't say anything. I didn't even think about saying anything.

There are two reasons this is a problem. First, the meeting I was at was at the ECM--which stands for Ecumenical Christian Ministries. The whole point behind this place is that it is an open community space. All are welcome. I go there, but I have never gone there to be religious. That's why I like it. And that's why it likes itself. Second, most of my family is catholic. I went to catholic school for nine years. So a great many of the good people from my childhood were catholic. I always felt like we were a pretty good bunch. I don't go anywhere to be religious now, but I think I am pretty open-minded, and I think that is because of the way I was brought up. So....what the hell?

As soon as this thought entered my head, the entire space up there became clouded with overlapping issues and problems, all of which shake me to the core. This seems to happen far too frequently for me. I feel pretty certain that it all boils down to a lack of self confidence, which I know is probably behind a lot of my other problems, such as frustration over not knowing what to do now that I have graduated. And this is annoying because I know that I will have to get over the first thing before I can get over any of the others.

I have been thinking about starting a blog for a while now. I always feel that it's a little weird, blogging. I don't know why it isn't enough to write in a journal. But for some reason, it isn't.

I read a lot of food blogs. There are several young, lady food bloggers who seem to me to be very much enjoying themselves. Reading their writing and recipes gives me a feeling of serenity. So, this will be mostly a food blog, as well as a way of ...yes....finding myself. And if that is a made up idea that is actually impossible or inaccurate, well I am just going to have to deal with that outcome when it comes. Because for now, all I can see is that something must be done.

So, here it is. I have decided I will not delete this entry, even if it does start out with two paragraphs about catholicism. I will start here. And the first recipe will be: Eggplant and Tomato Pasta.

Two nights ago, I wanted to make a dinner with lots of vegetables because I had yet to eat any that day. However, I was a little limited because we already had some vegetables, and they were all locally grown and just asking to be used to their full potential. So, I turned to my Italian for Dummies Cookbook. Not a very glamorous start to this food-bloggin' business, I know. But this cookbook has really been wonderful. Everything I have made out of it has been easy, has made good use of fresh ingredients, and has left nothing desired. I also really like it because, not having gobs of experience cooking, I usually have to call some parents or former roommates in the middle of a cooking venture to ask them to please clarify some point. With this book, the answer is almost always there somewhere. Finally, the titles of things are pleasingly blunt. The last time I made something out of it, everyone was very impressed and asked intriguingly, "oooo what is this called," and I said with a smile, "Shrimp with Beans."


Eggplant and Tomato Pasta

1/4 c olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tsp dried red pepper flakes
1/4 c white wine
1 large eggplant, cubed
1 14 oz can tomatoes or 2-3 c fresh tomatoes, in large chunks
1 tsp thyme, chopped
2 tsp oregano, chopped
1/4 c basil, chopped
1 tbsp parsley, chopped
salt and pepper to season