Zip-a-dee-doo-dah!

photo by Grouse Mountain zipline photographer

Last weekend, two of my oldest friends (as in longstanding not long in tooth), Grace and Linda, and I took a trip up to Vancouver to celebrate our birthdays.  On the agenda, besides stuffing our faces, was ziplining on Grouse Mountain.

The ever enterprising Grace arranged a house swap with a friend and so we ended up staying at a condo right in the heart of downtown Vancouver close to Granville Island and Yaletown for the two days we were there.  It was a great homebase in between all the eating and running about we did.

We got in Friday night and the next day, started off with brunch on Granville Street at the Twisted Fork.  Unfortunately I have no photos of the meal but let's just say that Americans aren't the only ones with huge servings.  The eggs bennies and the French toast were decadent and delicious, and we followed up brunch with a much needed walk around Granville Island where we visited the Public Market and looked longingly at all the various foods we were too full to eat and people watched. 

We couldn't have asked for a more perfect day for ziplining.  It was a sunny 65 degrees with clear blue skies.  We had feared that it would be raining and with advertised speeds of up to 50 mph, unbearably cold.  Happily, there was absolutely no need to worry.

We began with suiting up--harness, helmet, and our personal trolleys.  After a quick explanation of how to stop (arms straight out, legs bent, knees lifted up), we went on a practice run.  It's a good thing we had the chance to practice because in the 3 seconds it took to get from one side to the other, I'd already forgotten how to stop.  Luckily each zipline ended with several plastic discs designed to absorb the shock of crashing to a stop and I eventually got the hang of it. 

Grouse Mountain's 5 zip lines took us over a small alpine lake and up to the top of the mountain (we took the ski lift up) where we zipped over several valleys.  The views from the top were amazing: all of Vancouver disappearing toward the horizon, sparkling waters framed by snowy mountains and evergreens, clear skies that allowed us to see for miles in each direction.   The whole experience took about two hours and was a lot of fun.  The guides really ham it up, and I always enjoy seeing folks who really seem to love their job.  We also got to ride the ski lift both up and down to reach the last two ziplines so that was also a lovely way to enjoy the view.

Overall, it was a great trip with the highlight for me being the chance to experience the ziplines and the beautiful views from the top of Grouse Mountain with my lovely gal pals.  But the food was a close second.

photo by Grouse Mountain zipline photographer

I played around with the video that we shot of ziplining and below is my first attempt at video editing.  If you watch in fullscreen mode, we end up looking a bit like we're in the witness protection plan due to the low resolution of the video and it ends rather abruptly but I hope it gives you a feel for the experience!

From Ocean Shores to Lake Quinault

We went on a weekend retreat to Ocean Shores, WA, and took a day trip out to Lake Quinault Lodge and the Quinault Rainforest.  It was unusually sunny and mild for the rainiest spot in Washington, so we were blessed.  We checked out the razor clams at Ocean Shores but resisted the urge to take them home (tho' I'll definitely be back someday when it's open razor clam season!).

We saw a flock of brown pelicans at Damon Point hunting for their lunches.  It was fun to watch them soaring and swooping gracefully above the ocean only to end with a rather awkward ker-plunk drop and splash into the water.

The Lake Quinault Lodge where Teddy Roosevelt visited back in 1937 had a really lovely rain gauge--the record level of rain recorded in one year was 15 feet!  13 feet was recorded in 2011.  I guess we really shouldn't complain about rain over here in Seattle.

We finished the day with a pleasant 4 mile loop walk around the lake, seeing the various native flora and fauna.  My personal favorites were the ferns (sans spores, of course!)--lovely green fiddleheads just unfurling--and forget-me-nots as well as a visit to the world's largest Sitka Spruce.  Almost a thousand years old, it had a circumference of almost 59 feet that we could only hug but not encircle with our arms.  Lunch on the lawn of the Lake Quinault Lodge afterwards is de rigueur!

 

A Big Ol' Goose Egg

The other day, my student Matthew asked me if I like eggs.  When I replied that I did, he told me he'd bring me some goose eggs since his neighbor had a goose and would give him more eggs than Matthew knew what to do with.  (Some people have all the luck!)  The next day he gave me four goose eggs.  I had never seen one before; pickled duck eggs and canned quail eggs are about as exotic an egg as I've ever had.  When I took it out of the bag, I was amazed by its size.

It's funny how little it takes to throw our sense of perspective out of whack.  One goose egg is about the equivalent of 2-3 chicken eggs and though I eat chicken eggs all the time, I didn't know quite what to do with these guys so I asked around and the most common answer was to scramble them, so that's what I did.  I added a little milk, some salt and pepper, and scrambled them up, then put them in tortillas with some sauteed mushrooms and greens.  The flavor was mild and tasty and surprisingly, not so different than chicken eggs.  I did do a little more sleuthing about on the Internet to see what other things people did with goose eggs and came across this British site called Clarence Court that sold goose, duck, turkey, rhea, and ostrich eggs to name just a few.  They also have a really great recipe index with such interesting sounding dishes such as "Deep fried turkey egg with Asian herbs" or "A bloody good egg nog."  Maybe next time around.

To end, I thought I'd share another Billy Collins poem, this time about perspective and how one thing can change our whole point of view:

Bonsai

All it takes is one to throw a room
completely out of whack.

Over by the window
it looks hundred of yards away.

a lone stark gesture of wood
on the distant cliff of a table.

Up close, it draws you in,
cuts everything down to its size.

Look at it from the doorway,
and the world dilates and bloats.

The button lying next to it
is now a pearl wheel,

the book of matches is a raft,
and the coffee cup a cistern

to catch the same rain
that moistens its small plot of dark, mossy earth.

For it even carries its own weather,
leaning away from a fierce wind

that somehow blows
through the calm tropics of this room.

The way it bends inland at the elbow
makes me want to inch my way

to the very top of its spiky greenery,
hold onto for dear life

and watch the sea storm rage,
hoping for a tiny whale to appear.

I want to see her plunging forward
through the troughs,

tunneling under the foam and spindrift
on her annual, thousand-mile journey.

--Billy Collins, Picnic, Lightning

Fresh From the Farm This Week!

It's asparagus season out at the farm with these lovely green spears growing skyward.  Each time I go out there, I get to gather a handful or so.  Two of my favorite ways to cook asparagus is sauteed with garlic and lemon butter and most recently, simply roasted with olive oil and salt and pepper.

Due to all the rain and cool weather, the lettuces and Swiss chard have also been doing well.  I cut two heads of lettuce this week, leaving the roots so that they'll grow back again.  The rhubarb is also still flourishing.

The kale and collards that wintered over seem to be bolting already, so perhaps it's not such a good idea to try to keep them going another season.  I harvest what leaves are left, cutting down the flower stalks as well, and have been pulling up the plants that have gotten too spindly and replacing them with seedlings that I planted earlier in another bed that were getting too crowded.  So fun to have fresh, homegrown veg again! 

Asparagus with garlic and lemon butter

1 1/2 pounds asparagus,with any tough parts snapped off
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tablespoon butter or olive oil
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
salt & pepper

Put enough water in a saucepan and add salt and bring to a boil.  Place asparagus in boiling water and cook until tender.  Drain and in the meanwhile, put butter or olive oil in a pan on medium high and briefly sautee garlic until fragrant.  Add the asparagus to the pan and add the lemon zest and juice.  Season with salt and pepper.

Roast asparagus

asparagus, with tough parts snapped off
olive oil
salt & pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  (I use my toaster oven when I just have about a half pound or so to cook.)  Clean and snap off tough ends of asparagus and dress with the olive oil and generously season with salt and pepper.  Roast for about 15 minutes or check when you begin to smell the fragrance of roast asparagus.  It doesn't get any simpler than this!

Miracle Fair

 

Miracle Fair

Commonplace miracle:
that so many commonplace miracles happen.

An ordinary miracle:
in the dead of night
the barking of invisible dogs.

One miracle out of many:
a small, airy cloud
yet it can block a large and heavy moon.
Several miracles in one:
an alder tree reflected in the water,
and that it's backwards left to right
and that it grows there, crown down
and never reaches the bottom,
even though the water is shallow.

An everyday miracle:
winds weak to moderate
turning gusty in storms.

First among equal miracles:
cows are cows.

Second to none:
just this orchard
from just that seed.

A miracle without a cape and top hat:
scattering white doves.

A miracle, for what else could you call it:
today the sun rose at three-fourteen
and will set at eight-o-one.

A miracle, less surprising than it should be:
even though the hand has fewer than six fingers,
it still has more than four.

A miracle, just take a look around:
the world is everywhere.

An additional miracle, as everything is additional:
the unthinkable
is thinkable. 

by Wislawa Szymborska
translated by Janna Trzeciak

Happy Friday--have a miraculous weekend!

The 9 Word Diet

As spring reaches its peak and summer begins to be more than just a distant memory, a woman's thoughts naturally turn to her winter flab as in how to tame Squishy (doesn't everyone name her fat?!) into submission in preparation for the ensuing shorts/tank top/swimsuit season.  This was a particularly stellar year for me in the fight against fatness with my foot doctor telling me that it wouldn't hurt to lose 5 pounds as that would be 5 less pounds each time I step down on my poor overworked plantar.  (He really meant 10.)  It's a good thing I have a thick skin about these things.

My co-worker Greg gave me his 9 word diet plan, which pretty much  distills the whole sordid process down to the essentials.

It begins with the 3 word diet:

eat less food.

Then you advance to the 6 word diet:

walk long distances.

Finally, when you're ready, you work up to the 9 word diet:

lift heavy things.

So forget the Paleo Diet, the Atkins Diet, South Beach, etc.  9 simple words are all it takes.  And if it doesn't work, that's okay too because as my other co-worker Thom says, the bigger we are, the closer we'll all be to one another.

Tiptoeing Through the Tulips

After a few gorgeous days of 70 degree weather, we're back to our usual "liquid sunshine."  I comfort myself by rationalizing my plants need it.   But truly, without the wet stuff, we wouldn't have the sort of lovely flora we have out here.  Exhibit A: tulips

Last week we took advantage of a break from rain showers to visit Tulip Town out in Mount Vernon in the Skagit Valley.  Even without the blue skies, the flowers were impressive, as always.  Nothing says spring like tulips!

 

Fresh From the Farm Begins Again!

I was super excited this week to harvest my first crop of the season: curly kale and some lovely rhubarb!  The kale I planted last winter and the rhubarb I inherited from the previous owners.  Definitely signs that spring has sprung.

I chopped up the kale and sauteed it with some olive oil, garlic, and red pepper flakes, my standard for these kinds of veg.  Because it was so young and tender, the kale didn't have any of the bitterness that is usually associated with the more mature leaves.

As for the rhubarb, it's a funny plant.  It puts out these huge, luscious leaves which are poisonous to human consumption, so the only parts that we can (and should!) consume are the stalks.  

Strawberries and rhubarb are a natural pairing and so pretty (and tasty!) together.  I decided to put together a fruit crumble, which when eaten warm and topped with vanilla ice cream, is just a spectacular combination of textures and flavors--sweet and tart, and warm and cool.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crumble (adapted (barely) from Smitten Kitchen)

This is a simple recipe that uses melted butter so you don't have to spend a lot of time cutting it into flour.  Also, the use of baking powder cuts down on the need for additional butter (many recipes I looked at took 11/2 - 2 sticks) so with the fruit inside, this can almost be considered health food! :)

For the topping:
1 1/3 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
4 tablespoons sugar
Zest of one lemon
1/4 pound (1 stick or 4 ounces) unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup chopped nuts (optional--I used walnuts but any kind would do)

For the filling:
1 1/2 cups rhubarb, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 quart strawberries plus a few extras, hulled, quartered
Juice of one lemon
1/2 cup sugar
3 to 4 tablespoons cornstarch
Pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 375°F and chop the fruit.  Mix the rhubarb, strawberries, lemon juice, sugar, cornstarch, and salt and put the filling into a deep pie pan or oval baking dish.

Prepare the topping by mixing together the flour, baking soda, sugar, lemon zest, and melted butter until you get small and large clumps.  Pile the topping evenly on the fruit filling and pinch together some crumbs for variation in size on the topping.  Put into oven and put a baking sheet in the tray underneath to catch any bubbling fruit juice.  Bake until the crumble is golden brown and the fruit is bubbling beneath, about 40 minutes.

Serve warm with French vanilla ice cream.  It doesn't get much better than this!

Spring Babies

Babies are cute, no question.  And baby animals, like baby llamas and baby chicks are pretty darn cute, too.

 But have you ever considered how cute baby seedlings are?  Look at these little guys coming out of the dirt--they're adorable!  (Yes, I believe I've entered that annoying space called "Proud parent of a plant.")

It's definitely planting season out here at the Farm and this year, having ignored my little garden all winter, I went out there to see what was still growing and found a bunch of lovely surprises: the lettuces had come back as well as all the brassicas: kale (Siberian and Tuscan), collards, and broccoli rabe.  The Swiss chard was back as well (yodoleheehoo).

A bunch of the chrysanthamums had reseeded itself and were growing quite swimmingly in the sea of weeds that had taken over the beds during winter.  Although the bees were humming happily amongst the purple blossoms, I had to get rid of them.

As I loosened up the soil again and begin uprooting all the weeds, the dark rich soil revealed all the lovely worms within working away to make the soil loamy and fertile.  I planted some peas, carrots, beets, and other cool weather crops I usually plant too late.

After a couple of days of weeding, wacking, digging, and replanting, the beds are starting to take shape again.  Yay, spring!   I can't wait to eat the fruit of my labor in the coming months!  (Uh oh, this is starting to sound a bit like a Greek tragedy...)