Magic Eggs

There is magic in early childhood. Given the proper chance, it's a time when a child can know with certainty that the woods are full of underground creatures called gnomes, that ash trees growing together by the side of a trail are indeed a fairy house that can be climbed into, that sand and mud can be pushed into mountains with endless vistas into another domain. 
 
Young children see the world with such wonder. Even the smallest discoveries are huge and thrilling. To be reminded of how interesting the world really is -- that's one of the best side benefits of spending time with a small human. Since I live with a four-year-old, I'm a lucky person to be around that kind of excitement and magic daily (though admittedly between some rough patches typical of this age).

When I was thinking about this today, I wondered if Kingston's worldview has rubbed off on me a little. This is because I realized that I have developed a tendency to call many things "magic" or "magical," things which in adult eyes would seem utterly banal.

Somehow, for instance, I have started calling our dog "Magic Dog." He has taken to coming into Kingston's room with us to do the bedtime routine each night. If he doesn't, I find myself saying, "Come, Magic Dog! Time for bed!" He usually obeys and pads in after us.

If I had to tell you what is actually magical about our dog, well, I'm not exactly sure what that would be. He doesn't fly. He doesn't glow in the dark. He doesn't grant wishes. Maybe the fact that he is constant in his gentle mood and ever-loving toward us is magic enough. 

Even scrambled eggs have become magical in our house. It began by necessity. Kingston would only ever eat egg whites and not the yolk. Initially I saved them for other things, but there are only so many recipes for using up yolks. In my wiliness, I realized that if I called the eggs I cooked "magic," Kingston might actually eat them in their entirety, yolks and all. 

It's not just in the name, though. While these eggs may appear to be unexceptional, they are anything but that. The first time I made them, I turned to Marc as we sat down to breakfast and said, "These eggs are magical." He nodded in agreement, as he silently shoved another forkful into his mouth. I had cooked them with leftover Ethiopian spiced butter, or nit'er kibbeh, based on a version from Marcus Samuelsson. Originally, I had made the butter as I was getting ready to cook the Ethiopian chicken stew, Doro Wat (nit'er kibbeh is an essential flavoring ingredient for the dish).

The basic idea with nit'er kibbeh is to infuse flavors into unsalted butter by simmering the butter with onion and spices typical to Ethiopian cuisine, including turmeric, cumin and fenugreek. By the end of the simmer, you essentially have clarified butter with a beguiling aroma that provides additional layers of flavors to whatever you are cooking, be it a chicken stew, or in this case, scrambled eggs. Ni'ter kibbeh is worth making and having on hand for when you want to add a little magic to almost any dish. 

Magic Eggs
For these eggs, use a gentle hand, cooking on medium-low to low, and they will be magically irresistable to anyone, including a four-year-old.

Serves 1-2. Nit'er Kibbeh slightly adapted from Marcus Samuelsson.

Ingredients
For the nit'er kibbeh:
8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick), cut into pieces
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 cinnamon stick
2 garlic cloves, peeled
2-inch piece of peeled fresh ginger
sprig or two of rosemary

To cook the dish:
3 eggs, preferably organic
1 1/2 to 2 tablespoons Ethiopian spiced butter
salt

Instructions
First, make the spiced butter. Place butter, onion, turmeric, cinnamon stick, garlic, ginger and rosemary in a small saucepan. Turn heat to low. Slowly melt butter, then simmer very gently for 30 minutes. Do not allow the milk solids to brown. Let the butter sit for 5 to 10 minutes to allow the solids to settle to the bottom. Pour butter through a piece of cheesecloth or fine sieve to remove most of the solids. This is your ni'ter kibbeh for cooking the eggs.

Whisk eggs until well beaten. Place an 8-inch skillet over medium-low heat and then add the butter. Allow butter to melt then pour in the eggs. Allow the eggs to begin slightly setting then use a spatula to stir and scrape eggs from the middle. I like to sprinkle a small pinch of salt over the eggs at this point. 

Jiggle the pan so that the still-liquid egg from the other edges flows toward the middle. Cook for another minute or two. Scrape eggs and flip. Continue doing this until the eggs are cooked to your liking. I prefer my eggs quite soft, almost runny. Remember, they will still continue cooking after you turn off the heat. Serve garnished with some chopped herbs. Toast, which some would consider magical all on its own, is a worthy accompaniment.

Lapsang Hot Cocoa & Thoughts About Vulnerability

Many years ago, when I was a graduate student in psychology, I read about the work of the Italian researcher, Alessandra Piontelli, who had done ultrasound scans on mothers of fraternal twins. A number of times, she watched as one particular set repeatedly pushed against the thin membrane that separated them, reaching toward one another. 

Piontelli visited the various mothers and twins a year after they were born, including that specific brother-sister pair. She observed the now toddlers playing a game where they stood on opposite sides of a curtain, pushing against it with their hands, trying to locate one another. 

Though many years have passed, this is an image that still suddenly pops into my mind. Each time, I am surprised by the emotion that wells up in me. It feels like yearning, perhaps a simple recognition that the image has everything to do with the human impulse to be connected to another person -- an impulse so basic that it can appear even when we are in the womb.

The image also makes me think about vulnerability, which is essentially a reaching out toward another. This is not always an easy task and can stir up many emotions, including anxiety.  It can feel dangerous, an act of exposure. Yet, making yourself vulnerable and being willing to reach toward someone else without knowing what will come back to you is also the best way to ensure a deep connection to another human being.

I did just that a few nights ago, reached out, when at a post-New Year's get together with my writing group, I shared a personal essay. I was nervous because it was about some traumatic things that had happened to me as a very young child, not things either easily shared or taken in. Over time, though, it has seemed increasingly important to write about and share these experiences with people in my life.

As I began to read aloud, I knew that I was among sensitive souls with whom I felt safe. So I continued on, until I reached the bottom of the second page. My words and everything they embodied were accepted with empathy and kindness. 

I was grateful. The experience made me consider how vulnerability goes together with authenticity, being willing to reveal to others the truth of who you are. It felt good, a relief, to do this with my fellow writers. Afterward, I felt more solid in myself. Less a pile of wobbly little pebbles, more a mound of stones that mostly fit together without rolling away at the slightest touch.

By making yourself vulnerable, you give others the chance to feel what it is to stand inside your experience. It can feel a little strange and contradictory -- to feel more real, more anchored inside yourself, the more you are exposed. 

But this, I believe, is what we need more than ever -- to be willing to allow others to know what it is we know and feel, in order to create a world of greater compassion and understanding. 

This new year, let's not make generalizations about others or act in the belief that we already understand all there is to know about the world. Let's listen to what the people around us far and near have to say. Let's dare to open ourselves up. It's not impossible. Perhaps a first step can be taken by sharing a meal, a cup of hot cocoa or even a simple sip of tea.

Lapsang Hot Cocoa
I know it might sound weird to some of you, but the smokey taste of lapsang souchong is so delicious with the richness of chocolate. If you aren't familiar with it, lapsang souchong is a Chinese tea that has all sorts of myths and lore attached to it. It is essentially a black tea that is smoked over pine needles, absorbing all the aromatic flavors. If you want the smokiness to be stronger in your beverage, let it steep longer. I like mine to have a good balance between the tea and the cocoa flavors, so five minutes works just right for me.

Makes enough for two.

Ingredients
1 teaspoon Lapsang Souchong tea (loose leaves)
2 cups whole milk or milky beverage of your choice
4 tablespoons sugar
4 teaspoons high-quality cocoa
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
pinch of ground cinnamon
pinch of salt

Instructions
Heat milk in a saucepan until hot. Place tea leaves in a tea ball/strainer and steep in the milk for five minutes (more if you like a smokier taste). Remove tea then whisk in sugar, cocoa, vanilla and salt until everything dissolves and is slightly frothy. Divide between two cups and serve with a long conversation.

Cranberry Citrus Granola

I don't have any resolutions for the new year, just the desire to keep doing the best that I can in each moment. 

I came to the conclusion, when I began working as a therapist many years ago, that this is basically what is happening with each individual at any given time -- even if he or she may be making terrible decisions or questionable choices.

She's doing the best that she can right now.

For me this held true years ago as it still does now.

If you're scratching your head, wondering what I mean, well, I was trained to listen, to be fully present to another without judgment. If I sat there thinking, "Oh no, she could definitely be doing something else right now. He should be doing better. He should've known better," wouldn't that be stepping away from the present, to some alternate-present where something else altogether was happening, where this particular person I was sitting across from was living a different life? Not the one actually being discussed?

It's not always easy to be present to another in daily life, as I am constantly reminded by my own scattered mind, with its voice that says things like, "Oops? What did he tell me? I only caught the last part!"

You can't fake it. Yes, yes, I heard you. 

Because people know. Especially the people who know you. And they get so disappointed when you're not really, fully there. 

So stop. Be present. Make that a resolution, if you must make one.

Besides the ongoing desire to do the best that I can in each moment, my other plan for the new year is to make more granola. For me, granola has become a sort of kitchen metaphor for playing and having fun. This is, I know, a far cry I know from granola's roots in the 19th century Seventh-Day Adventist tradition of eating healthily so as to maintain one's physical "temple." Despite its devout origins, though, granola is just plain fun to make. 

In the past year, I've learned a lot, especially in my home kitchen. One of the most important things I've focused on is understanding ratios, primarily so that when I look at any recipe, I can break it down to the basics and then do some experimenting. For me, ratios have made cooking truly fun, like playing in the kitchen.

One of my favorite recipes to play around with has been Nekesia Davis' Olive Oil and Maple Syrup Granola, the hands-down favorite in our home. For the cold months, I decided to mix it up and add citrus (both zest and a bit of juice) and honey as well as dried cranberries.  

After the New Year arrives, I'll be fiddling with the basic components of it more and making other varieties, but this particular granola is delicious and should get us by for now.

Cheers! May your new year be filled with the usefulness of ratios, discovery, fun and living fully in the present. 

Cranberry Citrus Granola
I use toasted nuts and seeds sometimes, while at other times, I don't bother toasting. For me, both versions taste great. You can decide on what you prefer.

Adapted from Nekesia Davis.

Makes 7 cups.

Ingredients
3 3/4 cups rolled oats
1 cup pistachios
1 cup sunflower seeds
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1 cup coconut flakes/chips
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup loosely packed brown sugar
scant 1/2 cup wildflower honey
2 tablespoons of orange juice, freshly squeezed
zest of 1 orange
zest of 1 lemon
1/2 cup dried cranberries (the orange-flavored ones from Trader Joe's are great here)

Instructions
Preheat oven to 300°F. Line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, mix together oats, pistachios, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, coconut and salt. In a smaller bowl, whisk together olive oil, brown sugar honey, orange juice and the two zests. Pour over dry ingredients and mix well with a spatula, making sure all the dry ingredients are thoroughly coated. Divide mixture between the two prepared baking sheets. Place in oven and bake, gently turning the granola with a heat-proof spatula or wooden spoon every fifteen minutes until golden brown, a total of about 45 minutes.

Cool on baking sheets without disturbing. The granola will clump together, into large pieces. If you like chunky granola, this is good. Leave it chunky. If you prefer, break up the granola more. Add the dried cranberries to the cooled granola. 

Serve with plain yogurt, any milk or your choice, or just eat it without anything else. Sometimes (when no one is looking, shh!) I like to dunk a spoonful of Nutella into the granola then shove the whole spoon into my mouth. It's the perfect midnight snack.

Apple Buns & the Specialness of Boys

The day started out in a mood, the fog thick and low to the ground. 

Though some might find this objectionable, I always welcome these cool, damp mornings. It's as if Mother Earth has something to say.

She speaks at low volume, so we tilt our heads and open our ears, listening. We might hear whispers or nothing at all. But it's still important to try and keep our hearts open. On this particular morning, her every breath exudes mist that swirls in barely visible droplets. I only really notice it when I look up at one of the kid's faces.

We've gathered out at an apple orchard just north of Bellingham, about five miles from the Canadian border. It's Kingston's preschool's first field trip of the year and we're here with the children, their families, Ms. Sarah and Ms. Gregory to pick the last of the Jonagolds. 

Ms. Sarah explains that with our hands, "we twist, then pull," to remove each apple. Almost as soon she finishes speaking, it seems her wagon is nearly filled to capacity with fruit from her eager helpers.

The fog has an odd effect. The light remains bright yet diffused. Sounds seem muffled or distant yet immediate and close. I'm not sure how the science of this works, but there is something both magical and vaguely unnerving about it. You can't see or hear clearly. You remain slightly disoriented.

This suits me fine, as lately I've been in a reflective mood. Today happens to be Kingston's fourth birthday and I've been thinking a lot about him growing up, about what kind of boy and eventually, young man, I hope for him to be. 

It's been on my mind a lot because the past month has been especially challenging. Throughout most of it, I couldn't help but think about a friend of mine who said that when her son was around this age, there were days when she was ready to run away and join the circus.

I get it. 

The time between the tail end of three and the start of four has been the toughest. That will! And the force of it! The assertion of independence. The quick change of feelings and volatile behaviors. 

At times, walking a tightrope or flying through the air on a trapeze seemed like it had to be easier than this.

And yet, it was all basically normal, what these boys go through trying to make sense of a world where so much is new and beyond their understanding. It's as Ms. Gregory puts it, an awakening. 

I have a lot of empathy for boys. When I worked as a child therapist, the "wild," under-fives were the ones I really enjoyed.

I was that little girl who was always expected to sit still and be quiet (basically, to act like I didn't exist) while the adults were speaking. So, as an adult, I came to love the boldness of these boys. Their willingness to just be who they were and act upon every feeling as it occurred -- that felt like freedom to me.

I knew it was so hard on their parents and I felt for them, but I still cherished the spirit and physicality of the boys. I still do. But as a mom in the thick of awesome displays of preschooler power, I've had to pause and remind myself of the specialness of these little guys.

I've had to rememember that in their early years, their right brains - the side focused on spatial concepts - are much more richly developed than the left side. This explains their interest in the way blocks and pieces fit together and why they need to spread out their toys (AKA a big, huge mess!) over a large area. They just need more room to play, to move.

It also means they tend to take longer to develop verbal skills. Girls are way ahead here. There have been times when watching a group of little girls chatting and holding hands would elicit a feeling of envy in me because my child wasn't one of them. A girl.

I know how it sounds, but I would guess that nearly all parents have had some similar feelings during the course of their child-rearing careers. I've had to learn to accept these sorts of passing thoughts in myself.

The main thing I have learned from our three-going-on-four experience though, is just how much our little boys need us. The caring, loving adults who can remain solid with them when they are stomping their feet, hurling hard objects, or shouting angrily at the world.

When I say solid, I mean non-reactive. Ever-patient. Wise enough to know that this moment will blow over and that afterward we'll have a calm chat about it, exploring different ways to handle our feelings next time no matter how overwhelming they are.

For a little guy to know that it is okay to fall apart, to feel sad, confused and yes, fragile, is just about the greatest gift we adults can offer up. If we can also demonstrate that we will still love them, even like them, not in spite of who they are but because of it, that's even better.

It's taken a lot of reflection on my part to understand that I have to be willing to weather the storms with Kingston if I want him to grow into a young man able to cope with what's inside. I want more than anything for him to live authentically, fully in touch with himself. Deeply connected to the people in his life.

Apple Buns
These are simple and comforting, just what is in order during quiet moments of thought and reflection. They are toothsome and not too sweet with apple flavor brought out by the addition of lemon and cinnamon. These are to be enjoyed by all, whether wild boys, well-behaving little girls or bewildered parents. No matter what, a bite of this will set everything to rights again.

Adapted from Bon Appetit.

Makes 10 buns.

Ingredients
1/2 cup whole milk, warmed
1- 1/4 ounce package (2 1/4 teaspoons) of active dry yeast
4 large egg yolks, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1/3 cup natural cane sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup spelt flour

Filling and Finishing
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
2-3 medium apples (about 1 pound), peeled and cut into 1/4" chunks
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons natural cane sugar
1 teaspoon lemon juice

A smidge of all-purpose flour for work surface

2/3 cup whole milk yogurt
3 tablespoons maple syrup

Instructions
In a medium bowl, whisk together the two flours. In a large bowl combine milk and yeast. Set aside for 5-10 minutes, until mixture is foamy. Add egg yolks and vanilla, combining well. Stir in butter, then salt and sugar. Add the flours into the wet mixture and combine until a shaggy dough forms. 

Turn dough onto a floured surface. Knead for 5-10 minutes until the dough is no longer shiny. Form into a ball and return to bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, then a kitchen towel. Set aside in a warm spot for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until the dough is twice its original size.

In the meantime, toss apples with cinnamon, sugar and lemon juice. Set aside.

Shape dough into a 15-inch log, then roll into a rectangle 6 inches wide and about 1/4 inch thick. Spread butter over dough. Spoon the apple mixture evenly over the rectangle. Roll lengthwise away from yourself to form a long log. Pinch seams to seal.

Cut log at 1 1/2 inch intervals. Separate pieces and place on a parchment-covered baking sheet. Some apple chunks may fall out. Just press them back in. Cover with plastic wrap then a towel and set aside in a warm place for 1-2 hours, until they are about 1 1/2 times larger. 

Preheat oven to 350°F. Mix together yogurt and maple syrup. Set aside.

Uncover buns and place on middle rack of oven for 35 minutes until golden, or slightly darker if you like. Allow to cool slightly then spoon yogurt mixture over the buns. 

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Teff and Coconut Waffles

Since I got my hands on Kim Boyce's Good to the Grain a few years back, I've been interested in using wheat-alternative grains and flours. But it wasn't until last year that I really started playing around with a wider variety of them.

See, a good friend of mine was coming up to visit us from California. Briana is the world's best pediatric occupational therapist (OT), a person who is always smiling and shining her light out onto the world. I had the opportunity to work with her and learn so much about helping traumatized children with sensory issues.  

She was also diagnosed with MS several years ago. When Bri told me she and her family were coming to visit, we talked about her health. She told me that cutting gluten out of her diet was helping her to feel significantly better on a day-to-day basis.

They were going to be with us for a few days and I wanted Bri to feel good while she was with us. So, I started to do some deeper exploring.

With further guidance mostly from Alice Medrich, I baked enough to feed the neighborhood using alternatives such as rice and oat flour, teff, buckwheat and sorghum. I handed out "extra" scones, cookies, cakes and biscuits to those willing to take them. 

One grain I came across during my exploring and experimenting seemed especially interesting: teff. I recalled that it was used to make the spongy, fermented Ethiopian bread, injera. 

The grains are tiny, about the size of poppy seeds. Because they are so small, they are ground whole to make flour, keeping all the nutrition from the bran and germ intact. They are loaded with high amounts of calcium, vitamin C and amino acids, as described here. 

The teff flour I found locally was a light brownish-slate color and slightly gritty to the touch. But I soon found that when cooked whole, it could be made into a porridge resembling polenta. It could also be added to soups and stews as a thickener. 

While Bri was here with her husband and kids, we enjoyed lazy days at the lake, dangling our feet from the dock and into the cool water, chatting and catching up with one another.

We cooked and ate plenty too, including Pacific Northwest salmon and blackberries picked from around the neighborhood. I even made her a birthday cake (coconut flour) filled with plum jam. But I forgot about using the teff I had!

They're planning to come back next year, at which point I will pull the flour jar out of the freezer to make these waffles just for them. 

Teff and Coconut Waffles

This recipe, adapted from Alice Medrich, is free of both dairy and gluten. You might feel that it's a bit of work to separate the eggs and beat the whites separately. However, the fluffed up whites do give the waffles lightness that I find worth the effort. The shredded coconut adds texture, and the coconut oil provides crispness. If you prefer to use butter instead, go for it! I am a staunch member of the I Love Butter Club. Just make sure you eat these waffles while they are warm and crisp. That is when they are at their very best.

Makes 5 large waffles or 8 smaller ones.

Ingredients
1 cup teff flour
1/4 cup dried, shredded coconut (unsweetened)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 large eggs, separated and at room temperature
1 cup warm coconut milk (or, substitute whole milk or other milk of your choice)
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
2 tablespoons coconut sugar (or, substitute brown sugar)

Instructions
Preheat oven to 200°. Prepare a baking sheet and set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together teff flour, coconut, baking powder and salt. Add the two egg yolks and milk, stirring together until combined and no flour lumps remain.

In a clean, dry mixing bowl place egg whites and cream of tartar. Beat until egg whites start to form soft peaks. Sprinkle in the sugar and continue beating until the sugar is incorporated and the whites just start to form stiff peaks but are not dry.

Fold egg whites into flour mixture, using a light touch, until just combined.

Pour batter into waffle iron and cook according to the manufacturer's instructions. Place waffles on baking sheet and keep warm in the oven as you cook the remaining batter. 

Serve warm with the topping of your choice. We're plain sorts around here when it comes to waffles. Or, call us purists, as our household preference is for a generous pour of maple syrup.