Spelt Tortillas and Using Your Hands

Late winter, nearly spring now. My hands are chapped as rough-hewn wood and my fingertips still don't want to be anywhere but snuggled inside a pair of wool mittens. 

Hands are our best tools, and tools are meant to be used. Hence, the current sad state of my palms and fingertips. Yet, it seems to me that most of us take our hands for granted. When, afterall, was the last time you actually said thank you to your hands?

Like, maybe never?

I know! I just realized this!

Some of you might find this weird or dorky, but since they work so hard, I think we ought to give our hands a shout out once in a while. Show our gratitute for all the little things they allow us to do every day.  

So, today I'm saying out loud, "Thanks hands! Thanks for letting me type this blog post! Thank you for holding my fork up so I could eat my lunch. Oh, and thanks for being there even before that when I was desperate to put that coffee mug to my mouth. Also, you totally deserve that cute, hands-together-gratitude-emoji! You're the best!"

I could go on, but you can see what I'm getting at. 

Yes, gratitude to the hands. No, not silly. Not at all.

Speak it; yell it into the wind. Then go and use them, the best tools you will ever have, to pat some pillowy dough into tortillas that cook up chewy-soft and perfect for tacos or quesadillas. 

Thank you hands!

Spelt Tortillas
Kingston and I made a batch of these the other day and filled them with a mixture of chorizo, potatoes and onions. But they are also delicious simply slathered with good butter, fresh off the skillet. If you're feeling like veggies, some sauteed greens and caramelized onions would be nice. We decided that these tortillas are our hands-down favorite, of all the versions we've made so far. 

Adapted from Serious Eats. Makes 8 8-inch tortillas.

Ingredients
200g (1 2/3 cups) all-purpose flour
100g (2/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon) whole spelt flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
36 g coconut oil
174 g (3/4 cup) warm water

Instructions
In a medium bowl whisk together flours, baking powder and kosher salt. Work coconut oil in with your finger tips to form a crumbly mixture. Add water, combining with your hands until everything comes together into a soft dough and no dry flour is left in the bowl. Cover dough with a dampened kitchen towel. Rest the dough for 10 minutes.

On a lightly floured counter, divide dough into 8 pieces. Cover with a damp towel and rest the dough for another 15 minutes. 

Pat out each piece of divided dough into a flat disk. Roll out into an 8-inch round, dusting very lightly with flour as needed. 

Preheat a seasoned, cast-iron skillet (I used my 10-inch one) on the stove or in the oven until it reaches 500°F. Basically, you want the skillet piping hot. If you have an infrared thermometer like I do, now would be a good time to point that thing straight at the bottom of the pan for a temperature check. 

Ease the dough into the ungreased, hot skillet and cook for 45 seconds to one minute, until bubbles form on top and the bottom starts to blister. Flip and cook for an additional 45 seconds to one minute. Remove from skillet and place in a kitchen towel, covering to keep the tortilla warm. Repeat until you've finished cooking all the dough.

Eat warm, filled with goodies of your choice, or simply buttered. 

Winter Activities and Nigel Slater's Sticky Malt Loaf

The New Year is off and I've been hurrying behind it outside in the freezing cold before slowing down again inside our toasty warm house, literally making piles of toast in the new doodad that my brother, Warren, sent over the holidays because he felt sorry for me having a fourteen-year-old toaster that only half worked.

Thank you, Warren.

We've been able to make lots of toast around here because I've been obsessively baking up all sorts of bread. There's Peter Reinhardt's Lean Bread, with its blistered, golden crust, which we now refer to as Crack Bread because once you start, you can't stop eating it.

Then, there are Sarah Owen's gorgeous breads, like Butternut Squash and Cherry from her beautiful book, Sourdough. With its golden crumb and easygoing sweetness, this is one of the most reassuring breads you can eat on a frigid winter's day. I can't leave out Ken Forkish's Bacon Bread (yes!), though, or his Field Blend #2 (whole wheat, dark rye), one of my very favorites. 

Gluten-free friends, wait. 

I've been working on my skills there too. What a challenge! I'm still chugging along with this even after Kingston made awful faces the other day while trying to eat some sorghum and brown rice soft pretzels I baked. Soft, they definitely were not. (There were, in fact, some jokes made about chucking them into the pond and hurting a duck. Nick Hornby fans out there, you know what I'm talking about.) And okay, I'll admit here that I made some faces too. Horrible ones. 

“What’s that floating next to it?” Will asked. “Is that the bread you threw at it?”

Marcus nodded unhappily.

”That’s not a sandwich, that’s a bloody french loaf. No wonder it keeled over. That would’ve killed me.”

— Nick Hornby, About a Boy

Though I've been making a variety of breads, I've mostly been using my trusty liquid levain, or starter. It has become, over time, practically invincible, doing its job with a consistency and joy that we should all strive toward if we want to feel truly alive. Because, what is the point of doing anything unless we put our full energy and conviction behind it? Do it like you mean it, I say. And, so what if I happened to learn this this from a goopy mass of wild yeast and bacteria?

We've also been ice skating a lot lately. Until this winter, I'd pretty much forgotten about it as an activity. It was one of those things I did every now and then as a kid at Pickwick Bowl in sunny Burbank, California.

Then a few weeks ago, some parents at school mentioned ice skating, an outing was organized, and there I suddenly was mincing about the rink, a bunch of little humans circling me. I watched as they took turns falling with a splat -- here, there, everywhere -- before getting up and continuing on again. Such little heroes.

Kingston and I have been back on the ice many times since then. This makes a lot of sense because one of the best ways to feel like a kid again, full of motion, freedom and complete joy, is to put on a pair of ice skates and go! Do some backward swizzles while you're at it.

In the meantime, if things get hard, as can happen in skating and in life, then, whether you're wearing skates or not, it's best to do what Kingston's teenage skating teacher suggests.

Here it is: When you think you're going to fall, slow down, put your hands on your knees and stop. When you are ready, stand up straight and feel the strength in your legs and your body. Start again. Go.

I'll add that when you're done at the rink and back at home, you should promptly toast up a piece of Nigel Slater's sticky malt bread, which I'm sure you'll have wisely baked ahead of time. Put that toasty goodness to your mouth. Devour it. Then feel it warm your belly.

NIgel Slater's Sticky Malt Loaf

This bread is best after aging for at least two days. It just keeps getting better and is completely worth the wait, so stay disciplined. Don't cut into it! Around here, we like this well-toasted. What happens is that the sugars from the fruit, molasses and malt extract start to caramelize and you end up with a toasty-roasty piece of bread that is at once sticky and chewy, melty and crusty. One more note: I used liquid malt extract from our local brew store, which sells it in bulk. Malt extract is a grain-based sweetener, usually made of barley. The grains are processed with water and the starches removed to create a liquid sweetener. I had a pile of it left over after making Renee's Rye Bread from the third Tartine book and decided to use some for this. 

Mr. Slater's recipe, translated for the American masses. Makes one loaf.

Ingredients

2/3 cup liquid malt extract (150g)
1/4 cup light brown sugar, tightly packed (100g)
2 tbsp unsulphured molasses
1 cup, plus 5 teaspoons all-purpose flour (250g)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup prunes, pitted and roughly chopped (100g)
2 large eggs
1/2 cup black tea, lukewarm to room temperature (125ml)
1/4 cup golden or Thompson raisins (100g)

To finish:
A teaspoon or so more malt extract

Instructions
Line a large loaf pan with parchment paper. Preheat oven to 325°F. 

In a small saucepan, combine the malt extract, light brown sugar and molasses. Without stirring, warm mixture over a moderate heat until the sugar has dissolved.

In a large mixing bowl, thoroughly combine the flour, baking powder and salt.  

Pour the warm malt and sugar mixture into the flour, together with the tea. Break the eggs into a small bowl, beat lightly with a fork and fold into the batter with the chopped prunes and the raisins.
Scoop the soft mixture into the prepared pan and gently smooth the surface. Bake for 1 hour until lightly springy, then remove from the oven and leave to cool in the tin. While the cake cools, brush the surface with a little more malt extract. After it cools, wrap well. Now wait a day or two, if you can, before eating!

Lemony Banana Bread Bites and Thinking Small

It's been kind of noisy around here. 

Lately, whenever I step outside, I can hear things like the red-naped sapsuckers calling from the woods. Leaves clicking together in the breeze. A two-foot garter snake we've taken to calling Eek (as in "Eek! There's a snake!") slithering across the backyard through piles of dessicated leaves from last Fall. I always hear its rustle before I see the quick movements of its yellow-striped body.

Then, I jump!

There's also the bullfrog who lives in the pond behind our house. He's come back this Spring and let me tell you, he's about as loud as a foghorn. When we first moved here and I was still a city girl, I used to curse his incessant bellowing, his vocal alert to the ladies in the area, reassuring them that he was, indeed, available. But what's to curse, really? He's just searching for a little happiness. 

Aren't we all? 

"Eek" the snake slithered away before the camera lens could catch it!

These sights and sounds have had me thinking about the small things and how if you don't pay attention, you can move through your day and miss out on them completely. How sad this would be!

Maybe it's because I live in a place with easy access to the natural world, but I find that shrinking the tangle of my mind down enough to make room for "small noticings," as the poet Sam Green calls them, makes my every day life richer. 

So wherever you might be at this moment, dare to move a little more slowly. Do look up to the sky. Pause when something catches your eye. Look at it. Really look. If you take the time to "think small," you just might see --or hear-- some truly magical things.

Lemony Banana Bread Bites
These little snack bites are inspired by Heidi Swanson's Lemony Olive Oil Banana Bread, which I make often since it's a favorite in our house. But this time, I didn't want a whole loaf, so I downsized them. They're tender, not overly sweet and are great for sharing. If you want to send them more into the treat territory (versus just snack), you can make a lemon glaze and spoon it over each one and let it set before eating. For the glaze, use equal parts brown sugar and powdered sugar, then stir in freshly squeezed lemon juice until it gets to the thickness of your liking.

Makes 2 dozen.

Adapted from The Sprouted Kitchen.

Ingredients
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup mashed, very ripe bananas
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

3/4 cup oat flakes
3/4 cup oat flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1/2 cup sesame seeds, plus more for sprinkling on top
1/2 cup chopped bittersweet chocolate

2 tablespoons turbinado sugar

Instructions
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, whisk together oat flakes, flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, salt and brown sugar. In a separate bowl whisk together egg, vanilla extract, olive oil, maple syrup, banana and lemon zest. Add wet ingredients to dry and stir to combine. The mixture will be fairly wet. Cover and refrigerate for 20 minutes to allow it to firm up slightly. While the mixture rests, preheat oven to 375° F.

Use a small ice cream scoop (or a spoon) to scoop and drop dough onto the prepared pan. Sprinkle with sesame seeds and turbinado sugar. Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, rotating halfway through. The bites are done when you feel a bit of resistance when you press down lightly on them with a fingertip. 

If using glaze, cool completely before spooning over each bite. 

...And speaking of small things, you can't get much smaller than the amazing creatures living inside a teaspoon of ocean water...

2016 Oscar® nominated Best Original Song "MANTA RAY" written and performed by Academy Award® nominated composer J. RALPH and Academy Award® Nominated artist ANOHNI (F.K.A.

Herbed Soda Bread

Every year, right around Thanksgiving, my brother sends me one or two cookbooks. This is to get me in the mindset for COOKING with him when he arrives a few days before the big event. Cooking with Warren is an all-caps activity for sure. 

Call it sibling bonding, but being in the kitchen with him once a year is a real highlight for me, something that I start looking forward to months ahead of time. Before he gets here, texts with menu ideas start flying between us. Smoke the turkey or not? --Sure. Apple Pie with Bourbon Caramel? --Yes!

Warren cooks with intensity, creativity and passion. He always makes his sticky rice stuffing jammed full of Chinese pork-and-duck sausage (a crowd pleaser), but last year there were a lot of Ottolenghi-inspired dishes, like the savory cheesecake he re-created after tasting one during a recent trip to NOPI.

This time, before I received anything from Warren in the mail, he sent a text: "Let's make bread this year."

A couple of days later, a cardboard Amazon box landed next to the front door. Guess what was inside? Yep, two bread books. One by Ken Forkish and the other by Josey Baker of The Mill in San Francisco. 

The Ken Forkish book is beautiful -- thoroughly informative, down to a section on protein levels in flour and a description of him going out to one of the Eastern Washington farms that belongs to the Shepherd's Grain collective, which is where he gets his flour. Cool.

After reading the Forkish book with a great sense of reverence (which is what naturally crept into me as I went along), I was a little startled by Josey's very casual, user-friendly tone (see I'm even calling him by his first name -- he makes you feel like you should be on a first name basis). Ugh, not for me, I immediately thought. 

But then I kept flipping through, reading, and it occurred to me. What's wrong with a casual tone? Being user-friendly? With an emphasis on no special equipment needed?

Um, like, totally nothing.

Josey starts you out from the very beginning, with making loaves of bread using packets of active dry yeast. You eventually graduate to making your own sourdough starter, from which you can make a pre-ferment and hearth breads with a much deeper flavor and longer shelf life. The real thing, in other words.

I got my starter going immediately and it's been fun tending to it. Kind of like a low-maintenance, non-complaining friend or pet sitting on the counter. It couldn't be easier. It's also pretty neat that it pulls wild yeast from the air and into itself, becoming something else entirely.

The starter will be ready to go when my brother arrives, though I'll bake a few practice loaves in case I need to make the necessary adjustments before he gets here.

While tendng to the starter and reading through Josey's book, I remembered making Irish Soda Bread a long time ago. In my memory, the loaf was squat and stodgy. But, I decided to give it a fresh try, which turned out to be fun and worthwhile.

Soda bread is so incredibly easy to make that a child can do it. And, in fact, Kingston and I have been making variations of this bread lately where he gets to be in charge of nearly the whole process, from weighing the flours to mixing it all up. The only thing he doesn't get to do is slash the loaves and put them in the oven. He is, after all, only four. 

If you are thinking about becoming a bread baker and are at all nervous, this is the one to make. You will, without barely breaking a sweat, develop complete confidence. Soda bread is also the closest thing to instant gratification when it comes to baking anything bread-like.

It's utterly basic in the best sense of the word. It doesn't rely on yeast and gets its lift from the chemical reaction that happens when baking soda meets the acidity of buttermilk. (Remember that grade-school volcano experiment where you mixed baking soda and vinegar and out flowed "lava?")

Always rustic, baking up a little bit different each time but never in any way less than delicious, this fine-crumbed bread will leave you feeling like a satisfied and accomplished baker.

Bread this year? --YES! Please.

Herbed Irish Soda Bread
Have this with some soup for lunch or dinner. It's also great toasted the next day.

Barely adapted from Super Natural Every Day.

Ingredients
2 ¼ cup spelt flour (283 g)
1 ¾ all-purpose flour (221 g)
1 ¾ teaspoon baking soda
3 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs such as parsley, sage, rosemary and/or thyme (I used a mixture)
1 ¾ teaspoon salt
2 cups buttermilk 

Instructions
Place a pizza stone on middle rack of oven (you can also use a cookie sheet if you don't have a stone). Preheat oven to 400°F. 

Whisk together the two flours, baking soda and salt. Add herbs and whisk. Make a well in the center and pour in buttermilk. Stir to combine. Dough will be somewhat tacky. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Knead for about 30 seconds just to bring the dough together. Place dough on a sheet of parchment paper. Brush top with buttermilk. Generously sprinkle flour over loaf. Make two deep slashes in an “X” pattern across the top of the loaf. You may make more slashes if you like. More slashes gives the finished loaf more crusty surfaces. Slide the bread and parchment onto the pizza stone. I typically do this with the back of a cookie sheet. 

Bake for 45-50 minutes, until well-browned and loaf sounds hollow when you tap on it. Let it cool, then slice and slather with butter. Best eaten within a couple of days.

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.