Magical Pork Pie

Change has been the general theme for us around here. There's been the start of school with a new teacher in a new classroom to adjust to, a bit of travel thrown in, and of course there's the weather which is being its usual Pacific Northwest self: predictably unpredictable.

I've been realizing more and more, though, that that's okay. To have things shift around, make you suddenly crazy-busy or just feel crazy. To not be sure if it's going to rain downpourishly for the five days or not. We just can't predict much of it, but we can adjust to the changes as they happen.

One of the main reasons why I've been thinking this way, in addition to the above mentioned stuff, is that we've had a lot of incredibly challenging moments recently with Kingston, in terms of his behavior. It is absolutely developmentally normal for kids of his age (four going on five) to want to say just what they think (often in a less than kind way), assert themselves boldly and completely ignore what you or any other grown up asks them to do.

This is hard.

Okay, that was an understatement.

It is terribly, terribly hard. But I've learned, with the help of some very smart and loving people in my life, that it's okay to feel that it's just awful and that what a kid who is not behaving and even being aggressive needs more than anything is a combination of empathy and authority. Hold the boundaries! Set limits! But do it with warmth and love.

One person even described it to me like this: "You're the benevolent queen...Act like the benevolent queen."

After she said that, things just clicked. Kingston and I started to get along better. As the queen of my kingdom, I said enough when it was enough (Um, like, no, we can't put "Froggy Went A' Courtin'" on a loop so that it's the only song that plays for every single second of the day just because that's what you want even if you scream about it.).

And things have started slowly to change. My little minion (said lovingly, of course) seems to be getting that I'm firmly saying no or correcting him because I love him and don't want him to grow up to be a narcissistic terror of a person. Or maybe, he doesn't understand it that way, per say; he just knows that mama loves him. Period.

Underneath that sometimes tough queenly benevolence, good things have come to the surface for us. I've been feeling cautious relief. Especially when we have moments like yesterday, when we lay in bed in the morning and drew tons of spider webs together in an old notebook. Or, later the same afternoon, when we sat at the table and drank hot chocolate together, addressing one another as Mr. Dog (him) and Mr. Cat (me).

Life reminder: when you can ride through the changes, the really difficult moments, allowing the stuff underneath to rise to the surface, you'll be surprised, maybe even grateful. Oh, and don't forget that you are the benevolent ruler of your own little kingdom, indeed.

“In his dream he had gone to the pantry to fetch someone a slice of magnificent pork pie. But when he cut the pie open he found that there was very little pork inside it. Most of the interior was taken up by the city of Birmingham. Within the pie crust forges and smithies smoked and engines pounded. One of the citizens, a civil-looking person, happened to stroll out from the cut that Stephen had made and when his glance fell upon Stephen, he said...”

— Susanna Clake, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

Speaking of what lies beneath the surface... I don't know why it took me so long to read Susannah Clarke's wonderful novel, but an 800-page book about magic and fairies and spells to summon anyone you want through time and space... Well, that was a good, escapist thing to be reading while going through my ups and downs with my child. One day, snatching a few minutes to read while locked in the bathroom (okay, other parents, feel free to admit that you have done this), I came across the above passage and decided I had to make my own pork pie. Nothing, nothing at all like an English pork pie, which is packed to the limit with various incarnations of pork products so that it's actually more like a crust-encased terrine. Nope, this is my version, which probably more closely resembles a sort of pot pie and is packed with potatoes and apples instead. Magical in its own way. Enjoy!

Magical Pork Pie

Ingredients
One recipe for double-crust pie, such as this one.
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium red onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 lb. ground pork
2 1/2 tablespoons fresh sage, minced
1/4 teaspoon of dried red chili flakes
3/4 lb. potatoes (about 3 medium), peeled and cubed
1/4 cup water or broth
2 medium apples (such as Golden Delicious), peeled and cubed
salt and pepper

To finish
1 egg yolk
tablespoons water

Instructions
Roll out half of pie dough into a 14-inch diameter circle. Place in glass pie pan. Trim so that there is a 1-inch overhang. Wrap well and place in fridge. Roll out top crust in same manner and place on a baking tray. Cover well and place in fridge. Crust should be chilled for 2 hours to overnight.

Prepare filling. In a large pan, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add onion and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Sautee until softened, 8 to 10 minutes. Add garlic, cook for another minute then add pork, breaking up with wooden spoon. Add another 1/2 teaspoon salt. Sautee until pork is browned. Add sage and chili flakes. Give the mixture a good stir then add potatoes, stirring to combine. Add water and remaining salt then cover, turning down heat. Cook on low for 10 minutes. Uncover, then add apples, cooking for additional 10 to 15 minutes.  Add freshly ground pepper. Taste and adjust for salt as well. Remove filling from heat. (I like the filling to be at least lukewarm when putting this into the crust, but it will also work if you're in a rush and filling is hot. Just work quickly!)

When you are ready to put the pie together, preheat oven to 450°F. Spoon filling into prepared bottom crust. Cover with top crust, cutting vent holes for steam release. Beat egg yolk and water together. Brush egg wash over top crust. Place pie on middle rack. Bake for 15 minutes then turn temperature down to 400°F. Bake for an additional 45 to 50 minutes, until crust is golden. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Nectarine Bourbon Galette & A Galette Party!

Recently, Kingston and I threw a little party for a couple of preschool friends that he's stayed in touch with and seen often this summer.

Everyone needs friends, but before I had a child, and a boy no less, I didn't spend much time thinking about how children actually develop relationships with one another. It's been fascinating, though, to watch Kingston -- and his often rough-and-tumble guy buddies -- create relationships filled with a lot of visible tenderness.

It's been an important reminder to me of how real, sustained connection with others allows us to truly thrive. To kick your feet and swing together toward the sky, laughing and calling out to each another with joy. Or, to hold hands just because you're happy to see each other. Does it get any better than that?

The day of our party, the boys came over with their moms and we quickly got going. I had set up three stations on our dining room table where we could work together. Mamas paired up with their boys to roll out dough that I had made ahead of time. Sure, there was some manhandling involved. Dough was squished with warm hands and much enthusiasm. But, it was all okay.

We filled our rolled-out dough with different types of fruit: blueberries we'd picked together a few days earlier at a farm in Ferndale, pears that one smart mama had preserved with a dash of brandy last summer. Then, we made a couple of galettes with nectarines from Eastern Washington.

Which brings me to the nectarine. Why is it that I've never heard anyone gush about eating the "perfect" nectarine? Usually, that sort of praise is reserved for summer peaches and jewel-toned plums. I mean, listen to Mark Bittman in his book, How to Cook Everything. He writes, "The peach is not only delicious. It can be downright erotic. Nectarines, good as they are, are not in the same league."

Pretty gushy.

But the nectarine! Let's not forget about its virtues. I get woozy from their sweet aroma as they sit nonchalantly on the kitchen counter. The smooth-skinned fruit doesn't have to be peeled like its fuzzier relative. When I eat a juicy nectarine out of hand, I don't wince when I eat the skin, like I do with many types of plums. In my mind, it is equal to any peach.

But back to the dough squishing.

I have to admit that I was very surprised once I pulled our first tray of goodies out of the oven. The "well-handled" dough had become transformed into golden, flakey crust. What a surprise! 

To me, this proved a couple of important things. First, that anyone can bake a beautiful free form galette or tart. And second, that if you are going to let anyone, including a bunch of preschoolers make pastries, this is a good dough recipe to use.

Even if you are only four years old, baking and creating together offers a lot of positives that go beyond pleasing the palate and the belly. Our activity that afternoon let both kids and grownups work and learn together in a joyful, fun and tactile way. It also gave us a chance to strengthen connections and deepen friendships.

After everyone ate, helped clean up and then went home, I found another round of dough in the fridge, along with extra nectarines. I rolled out the dough, sliced the fruit and tipped in a bit of Kentucky bourbon. As I put my own grown-up galette into the oven, I felt content. Full of the sweetness of fruit, buttery crust and the tender kindness of friendship.

Nectarine Bourbon Galette
Here's my ode to the nectarine. Since I was going for quickly making a lot of dough for the party, I used my food processor. You can use the food processor method here or also make this by hand. If you want to make a larger quantity of dough to throw your own party, simply multiply the amounts. In my 14-cup food processor, I am able to make up to four times the amount of the dough below.

Makes one large galette.

Ingredients:
Crust
1 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup spelt flour (or use all-purpose)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup butter, cold, cut into small cubes
1/4 cup ice water

Filling
5 cup nectarine slices, about 1/4 to 1/3 inch thick
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest, finely minced
1 tablespoon bourbon
1/4 cup natural cane sugar, plus 1 tablespoon
1/4 cup natural brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/3 c almonds, coarsely ground
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar

To finish
1 egg white
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons turbinado sugar

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 375°F. Prepare a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a food processor, pulse together flour(s) and salt. Add butter, pulse for no longer than 10 seconds. The mixture will look like coarse cornmeal. Turn processor on then add water in a steady stream. It will become incorporated within 15 to 20 seconds and you'll see the dough come together. Don't process it longer, or your dough may become tough. Remove dough from bowl of processor and onto a lightly floured board or counter top. Form into a flat round, about 1 1/4-inch thick. Wrap tightly with plastic wrap and place in refrigerator while preparing the filling.

In a large bowl, toss together nectarine slices, bourbon, sugars and salt. Set aside. In a small bowl, mix together ground almonds, flour and sugar. Set aside.

On a work surface lightly dusted with flour, roll out chilled dough. Use light pressure, rolling from the middle toward but not all the way to the edge. Give the dough quarter turns as you go. When the dough is about 10 inches in diameter, dust lightly with flour then flip over. Continue rolling your circle of dough until it is 12 inches in diameter. Fold dough into quarters and transfer to prepared baking sheet. Spoon almond mixture onto the middle and spread into a thin, circular layer. Spread nectarine mixture on top, leaving a 3-inch edge of uncovered dough. Fold edges of dough over the filling, leaving the center part exposed, and forming a more or less circular shape.

Beat together egg white and water. Brush egg wash all over the dough. Sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Place on center rack of preheated oven. After 20 minutes, rotate the galette and bake an additional 25 minutes, or until crust is golden to golden-brown and juices are bubbling.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Chickpea Salad with Herbs and Feta

Our dog, Perry, died six weeks ago. For the past five weeks, I was writing a post in dribs and drabs about him, my sadness and how I was cranking up the oven in the middle of summer to bake loaves and loaves of bread in which to drown my sorrows. 

Perry and I were together for over a decade. He saw me through moving to another state, getting married and having a baby. He was a good, old guy. The best. But believe me when I say I am sparing you by not publishing that post. I think writing it was really just for me, a way to muck through my feelings about losing my dearest beast friend.

Perry and I back during our days of adventure. Here we are making a pit stop on our way to the Wildflower Triathlon in Paso Robles, CA. He was such a handsome fellow.

The thing about being sad is that it's really hard to dwell on it when you are busy. While our family had some down time right at the end of June, things quickly sped up to the point where I've had a hard time keeping the days straight. This is probably a good thing.

Our days lately have been filled with trips to San Juan Island and Lummi Island, parades, birthday parties, graduation celebrations, farm camp, nature camp, play dates, potlucks, war canoe scrambles, helping the local triathlon club to put on an Olympic-distance race, and so on.

Inside, I can still feel that thread to Perry flutter whenever I have a quiet moment. I miss him. No matter what, he had the ability to shake things off, live in the moment and feel joy in the little things, like having his ears scratched and his belly rubbed. Or, taking a quick walk through the woods. I've decided to honor him by moving forward in that spirit, trying to keep it simple and enjoying the small moments.

In addition to spending all that time writing the aforementioned "Horribly Sad Post," I found myself doing a lot of reading. Maybe it was a way to distract myself, who knows. Whatever it was, none of my summer reading so far probably makes much sense in terms of being either beachy or breezy. Here's a partial list:

1. In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson - Pre-WWII Berlin, Hitler's rise to power.
2. Regeneration by Pat Barker - WWI, the effects of trauma on British soldiers and officers. Truly, one of the most outstanding books I have read lately. Ms. Barker, you certainly outwrite the best of them.
3. About a Boy by Nick Hornby - Not exactly breezy, but so funny and filled with heaps of pure heart. About how friendship and connection from unexpected places can transform you.

Like others around here, we've also been getting out to see friends. With summer being so much about backyard barbecues and potlucks, I thought I'd include a salad that we've been eating a lot of lately. It's from my all-time favorite cookbook, Tessa Kiros' Falling Cloudberries. I love salads that contain both cooked and raw elements like this one. It is so full of freshness and flavor. I hope you'll try it and even bring it to your next get together. 

May your summer be full of friendship, love and well-constructed salads. Here's to holding onto memories of our dearest friends past and present, enjoying small pleasures and reveling in the simple moments. Cheers!

Chickpea Salad with Feta and Herbs

The herbs here add a fresh punch while the chickpeas and feta make it savory and satisfying. You can cook the onion-and-garlic mixture a day or two ahead. If you do that, you can throw the dish together in no time. The salad also keeps well for a couple of days once it's made. I've mostly just made adjustments to the quantities of the original recipe so that it could feed more people. Otherwise, it's pretty true to the original.

Serves 12 as a side dish.

Ingredients
3 1/2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked overnight then cooked OR 2 15-ounce cans chickpeas
1 cup olive oil
2 medium red onions, chopped
10 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon red chile flakes
1/4 teaspoon salt, plus more as needed
6 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
6 scallions, green part only, chopped
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
1 bunch parsley, chopped
juice of 2 lemons
black pepper, finely ground

Instructions
Drain and rinsed cooked/canned chickpeas. Place in a large bowl and set aside.

Heat 3 tablespoons of the olive oil in a medium skillet and saute onions. When they become translucent and are starting to take on a golden color, add salt, garlic and chile flakes and cook for another 1 or 2 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to completely cool. 

Add onion and garlic mixture to the chickpeas, stirring together. Add feta cheese, scallions, parsley, cilantro, lemon juice and remaining olive oil. Combine gently. Taste and adjust for salt. Add black pepper to taste. Serve at room temperature, or cold.

Douglas Fir & Smoked Tea-Cured Salmon

Where did the past few weeks go? As soon as Memorial Day hit, the days just shifted into one big blur. 

First there was our town's biggest annual race, Ski to Sea, a seven-leg, multi-sport journey from Mt. Baker, with its ten-thousand-foot altitude start line to Marine Park at sea level for the finish. It's been going on since 1973 and is an event that celebrates our area's easy access to mountain, river, ocean and many other spectacular spots in between. This year, Marc raced the road bike leg for Tony's Coffee, our favorite local roaster, so we got out and did some cheering for them. 

Then, there were the birthdays! Three in one week, including mine, which meant eating a lot of cake. Something, if I am being perfectly honest, I don't mind doing, especially when I am offered a Pure Bliss cupcake.

We've also been experiencing the lowest tides of the year, so Kingston and I have been out with friends exploring the beaches and tide pools here in Bellingham as well as around the county. We've been seeing so many wondrous things! Dungeoness crabs mating, saddleback gunnels squiggling through the tide pools, banks of sand dollars seemingly multiplying before our eyes, purple starfish glinting in the light, squishy anemones that shrink at the touch. 

When you walk through the shallows, it's a completely different experience from just gazing out at a body of water from a distance, the dark blue vastness of it stretching out as if one entity. You see life teeming at your feet, even in a few inches of water and muck. Then there's all the stuff that can't be seen by the naked eye. It's all in there. I've often thought of the ocean as Mother Nature's womb -- the original starting point, a container for life that is so rich and varied that most of us can recite only a handful or two of its inhabitants' names. 

The beaches here are completely different from what I grew up with in Southern California. Washington beaches tend to be narrow, disappearing with the rising tide, then rocky with its waning. Coastal forest often abuts these types of beaches. To me, they are moody places full of hidden mysteries meant to be uncovered with careful attention and a spirit of awe, as we step lightly through them wearing of course, the proper foot gear. 

A dungeoness crab moves through the tidepool...Do you see it peeking out?

The other day, Marc, Kingston and I headed up to just such a place, the Point Whitehorn Marine Reserve, about 25 minutes north of us on the Georgia Strait. It's such a special place, with 54 acres of mature, wetland forest.

At the trailhead, you start along a path that meanders through the forest and takes you over wooden footbridges until you arrive at the stone and rock-covered beach. There are over two miles of public access beach to explore. That day, as we emerged from the forest, I gazed out at the ocean and thought about all that is sacred and worth protecting, like the woods, the waters that surround it and everything that lives here. 

When we got home, I wanted to make something that would embody the beauty of both the Pacific Ocean and our local forests. We've been out foraging a lot this spring and the light green tips of the Douglas Fir tips have been really inspiring me in the kitchen. They have a lemony flavor and if you stuff a bunch of them into your mouth and chew, first you get a hit of citrus then a hint of the tree's pine aroma, which lingers. I've been experimenting with the tips in all sorts of concoctions, including here in this version of cured salmon which is citrusy and smoky, woodsy and briny. 

Sockeye. Chinook. Coho. Pink. King. Chum. Steelhead. Salmon are synonymous with the Pacific Northwest, and are sacred to the Salish Coast people. But these creatures have so much stacked against them, from loss of habitat and pollution to inhospitably warm waters due to hydroeclectric dams and global warming. This makes them all the more worth valuing, protecting and celebrating.

Douglas Fir and Smoked Tea-Cured Salmon
I used wild sockeye, but other varieties will work as well. Just opt for wild over ocean-farmed, which contributes to concentrated areas of pollution. Learn more about best choices available to you from Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch. Lapsang souchong is a type of Chinese black tea traditionally finished through smoking over pine needles. As far as tree tips go, you can use other types such as those from spruce trees, though I find spruce to be a bit resinous for my taste.  

Adapted from Tasting Table.

Makes enough to feed six to eight.

Ingredients
One 1 1/4 lb. piece salmon, skin-on and preferably center-cut
1 1/2 tablespoons lapsang souchong tea
1 cup Douglas Fir tips
1/4 cup kosher salt
3 tablespoons natural cane sugar

Instructions
In a mortar and pestle or spice mill finely grind the tea. Finely mince the fir tips. Place both in a small bowl and add salt and sugar. Combine well.

On a tray large enough to hold the fish, spread out half the curing mixture. On top of this, place the salmon skin side down. Spread the remaining mixture on top of the fish, making sure it is evenly coated. Tightly wrap and place in the refrigerator for 8-10 hours. 

When cured, remove salmon from tray and rinse under running water without rinsing the little bits of rub that remain on the fish. Pat dry with paper towels. To serve, slice very thinly against the bias. This is great served on a good bread, such as pumpernickel. 

Rhubarb & Wild Rose Galette

However damp the days are here, they have also been sweet with the fragrance of wild roses. About three weeks ago, the buds began their ephemeral bloom, first slowly and shyly, before unfurling their petals all at once in a show of pink exuberance. 

There are two varieties that I've seen growing right behind our house, at the edges of the woods and along trails all ever town: Woods' Rose (Rosa Woodsii) and the Nootka Rose (Rosa Nutkana). These flowers grow wild (and tall, up to four feet) around the Northwest, including along the Columbia River, in areas traversed by Lewis and Clark. In fact, these sweet, old-fashioned blooms, always demure and never too showy, are mentioned in the journals of their expedition.

Meriwether Lewis writes on June 10, 1806 that "there are two speceis of wild rose both quinquis petallis and of a damask red..." with quinquis petallis referring to the bloom being five-petaled rather than many-petaled like the cultivated roses we are more used to seeing.

The petals of the Woods' Roses are a much deeper pink than those of the Nootkas, which at times can be found in a blush hue so pale that it seems merely a variant shade of white. It seems to me that the flavors of the darker blooms are stronger in taste as well. I discovered this a few days ago when I was walking the dog, tasting the velvety petals as I came across them.

That's when I thought the roses might be perfect combined with rhubarb. They could add dimension to rhubarb's enthusiastically sour flavor, which I've always found to be one-note on its own. I think rhubarb does best in the company of friends, like a scrape of vanilla bean, a handful of strawberries or strands of citrus zest.

I decided to gather some petals and blooms before they were gone. I climbed onto a cherry log pushed up against our back fence and reached outward and upward toward a Woods' Rose shrub that was growing from the highest part of the drop where our retaining wall ends. Somehow I managed to pluck whole blooms and catch petals in my bucket without falling overboard! Success. 

You'll want to make this galette as soon as possible to catch the end of the wild roses and rhubarb. Or, if the bounty where you live stretches into June, you can wait until the 10th to commemorate Lewis and Clark's first encounter with these beautiful roses in 1806.

Rhubarb and Wild Rose Galette
Tart, sweet and aromatic with each bite, you can adjust the rose flavor with the amount of petals you use. Just be sure not to overdo it! You can also make this with petals from cultivated, pesticide-free roses, though you'll have to play around with how much you use. For a gluten-free version, use this crust from Aran, and then substitute white rice flour in the filling.

Adapted from Alice Waters. 

Makes 1 galette.

Ingredients
Dough for 1 pie or tart, such as the one here.

For the filling:
1 lb. rhubarb, all leaves and ends trimmed off
3/4 cup natural cane sugar, divided
generous pinch of kosher salt
6 tablespoons unbleached all-purposed flour, divided
1/4 cup almond meal
2 to 3 generous handfuls of wild rose petals (depending on how much rose flavor you want)

To finish:
1 tablespoon melted, unsalted butter
1 tablespoon Turbinado sugar

Instructions
Preheat oven to 400F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Wash and dry rhubarb. Cut stalks into pieces 1/4" thick and about 2" long. In a bowl, toss with 2 tablespoons of the flour, 1/2 cup sugar and the salt. Set aside.

Roll crust out to 1/8 inch thickness to form a 14" circle. Transfer to prepared baking sheet to finish assembly of galette. 

In a small bowl combine remaining 1/4 cup sugar and the almond meal. Spoon mixture onto the middle of your circle of dough then push out toward edges leaving a 1 1/2 inch border uncovered. Place pieces of rhubarb at the edge of the circle of dough and roll the dough over the rhubard and crimp, turning the pan as needed to form a rim which will prevent juices from flowing out of your galette during baking. 

Toss rose petals over the almond meal mixture. Place the remaining pieces of rhubarb on top, in whatever pattern you like, covering everything up to the edges. Brush rim with melted butter then sprinkle with the Turbinado.

Place in middle rack in oven. Turn tray after 15 minutes of baking. After another 15 minutes turn again. Do this again a third time, for a total of 45 minutes of baking time. 

Cool competely then sprinkle with more rose petals, if you like. Serve alone or with a dollop of whipped cream.