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.

Johnny's Guyanese Beef Curry

When I recently asked my husband, Marc, about his first food memory, he thought for a second then said, "Eating off a banana leaf at a wedding in Guyana." 

Suddenly, I saw him as a boy with large, dark eyes, a mass of wild hair nearly overtaking his face, narrow hands holding an enormous green leaf. I imagined him wearing a look of concentration while his fingers gripped the edges of a vegetal plate weighed down by spoonfuls of curry, pieces of heat-freckled roti resting on top.

The ruckus of happiness, music, and laughter would have nearly swallowed him in this moment. Anyone who has spent any time at a party thrown by a bunch of West Indians knows that these affairs are loud and welcoming, full of joy.

These days, curry is still Marc’s favorite thing to eat, and I know he is happy that I'm sharing this dish. According to him, life is vastly improved when curry is part of it.

I don't disagree. I grew up with my Cantonese mother's curry, a whole chicken hacked to pieces and cooked with starchy potatoes, onions, madras powder and coconut cream, all of it swimming in sauce and drippings. It was rich and full of deep flavor. Even as a kid, I couldn't stop eating it.

While every West Indian cook probably has his or her own version of curry, each with its unique quirks, this is the one I learned to make from Marc’s younger brother, Johnny. I’ve made some minor adjustments, but this is essentially his, even though his one caveat the day he walked me through this was that he never makes it exactly the same way twice. 

For me, food is like invisible netting. It has the ability to keep me held together when all the loose parts and pieces that are memories and experiences, moments nearly forgotten, might otherwise go tumbling onto the ground.  

So each time I make this curry for Marc, I hope it takes him back to Guyana, to that time when he was a very small boy eating off a banana leaf, this dish holding him intact as the person he once was, now is and will one day become.

Johnny's Guyanese Beef Curry
A tip! Whenever we cook curry in our house, we make sure all the doors to the other rooms, especially the laundry room, are first shut tightly. The scent of curry can permeate everything! Though delicious, it's not always what you want to smell (or smell like), especially when you're putting on a just-laundered shirt.

With rice or roti, serves 6 hungry people

Ingredients
For the curry paste:
4 tablespoons madras curry powder
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon toasted ground cumin
1 teaspoon jerk seasoning paste, store bought or homemade

3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons coconut oil

2 pounds beef chuck cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 3/4 pounds waxy potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/4-inch chunks
3 onions, cut in half then thickly sliced
2-3 dried red peppers, such as chile de arboles
10 fresh thyme sprigs
2 1/2 cups beef broth or water, or a combination, plus more as needed
Salt and pepper

Instructions
Make the curry paste:
In a small bowl, combine curry powder, tumeric, cumin and jerk seasoning paste. Add enough water to form a thick paste. Set aside.

Make the stew:
Place a dutch oven or other large pan (with a lid) over medium-high heat. When pan is heated, add two tablespoons of coconut oil. Add curry paste and minced garlic. Stir quickly, allowing the paste to cook for a minute or two until highly fragrant. 

Add beef to pan. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Turn meat, allowing curry paste to sear onto all sides of the pieces and meat starts to brown. Some of the paste may start sticking to the bottom of the pot. Just scrape it up. Add dried chilis and onions, stirring. Some liquid should come out of mixture, but if it appears too dry, add a bit of water or broth to loosen the mixture. Cover and turn heat down. Cook on low for 25 minutes. 

Uncover pot and fish out the dried chilis and discard. Add thyme sprigs. Taste for salt, adding to your liking. Add the 2 1/2 cups of broth or water. Cover and simmer on low for an additional 35 to 45 minutes.

Add potatoes and adjust liquid as needed. If it seems too dry or you want more sauce/gravy, add more broth or water at this time. Cover and cook an additional 25 minutes, until potatoes are soft. 

Taste again for salt, adjusting as needed. Remove thyme sprigs and discard. Serve over rice, with roti on the side, or wrapped inside a roti.

Spelt Flatbread with Butternut Squash, Sage and Brown Butter

The other day around dusk, I was standing on a trail behind our house. I was feeling a little daydreamy, glad to have time to wander through the woods with the dog before dinner.

Beneath a spot full of vine maples, I waited while the dog finished sniffing a deer fern. Suddenly, I heard a strange, rapid noise. Click-click-click-click-click! Then again, and yet again. I looked up to see leaves the size of my palm vibrating against one another in the wind. Click-click-click-click-click!

I stood for a moment then glanced down at the dog, who was now waiting for me. Well? Shall we go on? his expression seemed to ask. I remained still, listening. 

In that moment I realized for the first time since living next to the woods these six years that the sound of the wind is not one entity, a single whoosh tearing through cedars and maples, thimbleberry and birch. It is made up of many small clicks, snaps and reverberations like that of the leaves now vibrating around me. 

Such a thing may seem small, not worth holding onto. But it was a reminder to me of what our former Washington State Poet Laureate, Sam Green, calls "small noticings." At a workshop of his which I was able to attend in June, he explained that these tiny, everyday details are what make poetry come alive.

I would also argue that these "small noticings" are a lot like catching fairy dust.. When we have these miraculous particles in hand and are able to fold them into ourselves, we inevitably become more alive.

Sam Green also spoke about his daily practice of writing at least three "small noticings" in a notebook. I think it's a practice worth emulating. Do it for a few days and I swear the noise around you will dampen down while what you'd otherwise miss comes more sharply into focus. 

Here's one thing I noticed today as I drove by the lake near our house:

The waves on the Lake, crinkles on a woman's dress. 

The dog and I eventually continued on. We looped around until we returned home, where it was time to get back to the flat reality of domestic life and finish cooking some dinner. I had soup ready, but I wanted a flatbread to go with it. 

The dough was already made and had been sitting on the counter while the oven heated up. I began peeling my squash, cutting it into thin slices while considering the wind and its many incarnations. Some, like these, whose very names impart magic...Papagayo. Mistral. Typhoon.

Spelt Flatbread with Butternut Squash, Sage and Brown Butter
A flatbread is just a flatbread, right? Not always. This one is sweet, nutty and savory, with crispy bits of aromatic sage. If food could be described as being as delicious as a poem, this humble Fall flatbread would be it. (No exaggeration!)

Dough barely adapted from Jim Lahey.

Makes two 12-inch flatbreads.

Ingredients
For the brown butter:
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 generous handfuls of large sage leaves

For the dough:
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (263 g)
1 cup spelt flour (123 g)
1/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 teaspoons fine sea salt
1 1/4 cup water

To complete the flatbread:
1 small red onion cut in half then thinly sliced
1 small butternut squash, peeled, cut in half, seeds removed
salt
freshly ground black pepper

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 500° F. If using a pizza stone, place stone on top rack.

Make the brown butter:
In a small saucepan, melt butter over low heat. Once barely melted, add sage leaves and allow to crisp. Remove sage and set aside. Keep a close eye on the butter, as from here it can quickly go from brown to burnt. When brown and nutty, remove from heat and set aside.

Make the dough:
In a medium bowl, whisk together flours, yeast and salt. Add water and mix together using a wooden spoon. The dough will appear quite damp. No need for alarm. This is okay.

Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap. I like to place a kitchen towel on top as well.  Allow to rest at room temperature for 18 hours, or until the dough has doubled in size. 

Divide the dough in half. On a floured surface take one portion at a time and gently fold it four times, starting with the right side and going around counterclockwise. Shape dough into a ball. Repeat with the other portion. Cover both with a towel while you prepare the topping.

Prepare topping and put it all together:
Very thinly slice butternut squash using a knife or even better, a mandoline if you have one. Make enough slices to cover the surface of a 12-inch round of dough (about 12-14 slices per, you may have extra depending on the size of your squash). Set aside. 

On a piece of parchment paper stretch out one round of dough until it is approximately 12-inches in diameter. The dough should be quite thin once stretched out.

Places slices of butternut squash on the round of dough. Scatter crisped sage leaves. Drizzle brown butter over the squash. Brush edges of dough with more butter. Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Slide onto pizza stone and bake for 11-12 minutes, until golden and crusty.

Repeat process with remaining dough. If you really want to live large, drizzle more butter over the finished flatbreads. 

And now, for a little poetry...

Senegalese Peanut Soup and A Soup Swap!

Well, that was a busy weekend. On Friday, we attended our first Michaelmas celebration. Since Kingston just started preschool three weeks ago, it was our first school festival.

As the grade schoolers gathered in a large circle, we sat at the edge of the wooded playground with other parents, friends and acquaintances eating our picnic dinner while we watched a dragon get slayed.

Because that wasn't enough excitement, Kingston helped use a two-man saw to cut a log into chunks. He then promptly went over to the hammering table and began putting 1-inch nails into a piece of wood he'd just cut. 

We watched the fifth grade parents work the apple press to make cider using fruit collected from all the families. We shared an abundance of home baked bread slathered with butter.

Then all the way home, Kingston chanted, "Michaelmas, apple sauce!" Just because.

But Saturday was a new day as we put our Friday adventures behind us. It was our Fall Soup Swap and it was a good one. 

If you have never been to or hosted a soup swap, maybe it's time to join in and make one happen. It is the best reason to gather a bunch of friends and neighbors together and a chance to fortify everybody when the weather starts to take on a chill.

All of the soups we had were delicious. Butternut squash and curry, carrot yogurt, Tuscan white bean, pumpkin and Jerry Traunfeld's herbed black bean concoction. I made Senegalese peanut soup. Everyone brought containers and filled them up before they went home.

Lately, I've been on a soup kick and I can't help it. Soup in all its incarnations is one the greatest things a person can cook or eat. It's not usually complicated, it's nutritious and you can generally feed a lot of people with a single pot. 

Our soup swap underscored all this plus more. People love sharing. People love trying out new flavors. They love taking home quarts of soup that they didn't have to cook. They are happy to know there will be a meal or two they won't have to make, other than heating something up. There's also the bonus of getting to visit with one another. 

Senegalese peanut soup is one of my favorites. The best version I've had is the one that Jim makes at The Rhody Cafe and the Farm to Market Bakery (next door to the cafe) down in Bow-Edison. If you ever find yourself driving south from Bellingham down Chuckanut Drive, you will see it on the left side just before you get to Bow Hill Road.

Jim's version is full of shredded chicken and is warming and complex. It's offered every day both at the Cafe and the Bakery, served with pieces of the Breadfarm's most perfect baguette.

But circling back to Michaelmas, it is a festival that has been celebrated since at least Roman times, if not earlier. There are different stories related to it including that of St. George slaying a dragon to save an entire village. 

It's a reminder of the personal dragons we each have and the need to find the courage to tame them. Gathering together, finding strength through community by sharing something as simple as soup is one small way to shore ourselves (in these northerly parts especially) against the darker months ahead.

As our school newsletter states, "Let's use the energy and focus of the Michaelmas season to resolve to be courageous -- which means 'take heart,' subdue our inner dragons and serve the good. Celebrate our inner strength and courage and let Hope and Love prevail."

Or, as Kingston says, "Michaelmas, applesauce!"

And as I say, "Soup Swap!"

Senegalese Peanut Soup
This soup happens to be dairy and gluten free, vegan and vegetarian. It does, however (and unavoidably) contain plenty of peanuts, as the name suggests.

Slightly adapted from Soup Club, a book that celebrates friendship, food and sharing through a soup club in New York City.

Makes 4 quarts.

Ingredients
2 cups roasted, salted peanuts
2 tablespoons coconut oil
2 small red onions, cut in half and sliced thinly
5 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
4 oz. fresh ginger, peeled and finely minced
1 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons mild curry powder
pinch of red pepper flakes or cayenne
1 28-oz. can of diced tomatoes, with their juice
2 lbs. sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 13.5 oz. can of unsweetened coconut milk
1 bunch cilantro, divided
1 cup unsweetened natural peanut butter, well-stirred
8 ounces swiss chard leaves, sliced into wide ribbons

To finish the soup
additional salt
black pepper, freshly ground
chopped cilantro
crushed or whole roasted, salted peanuts

Instructions
Use the side of a large knife to crush the peanuts.

In a large pot, heat the coconut oil. Add the onions, ginger and garlic. Saute until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the salt, curry and red pepper flakes. Cook for 2-3 minutes longer until the spices are fragrant.

Stir in the tomatoes then the sweet potatoes. Cook for another 2-3 minutes, stirring. Roughly chop half of the cilantro and add to the pot. Add 4 1/4 cups water and the coconut milk then give the soup a good stir. Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes, until the sweet potatoes are tender.

Remove from heat. Into another container ladle out 5 cups of the soup, including chunks of sweet potato and pieces of tomato and onion. Set aside.

Stir peanut butter into the remaining soup in pot. Use an immersion blender to puree until peanut butter is incorporated and soup is fairly smooth. Return the unblended portion to the pot. Add the chard and stir. Allow chard to wilt. Adjust soup for salt and add pepper as desired.

Serve in bowls garnished with cilantro and peanuts.

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.