I'm in love...with lemons

I seem to be developing a love affair with lemons.  Yep, lemons.  Growing up, the only lemon thing I liked was lemonade.  But the more I cook, the more I've learned that lemon just does something to a recipe, whether in cooking or baking.  Today I tried a new GF treat: berry oatmeal bars. The original recipe called for raspberry jam, but I had just been blessed with a jar of homemade blueberry jam and I thought it would be perfect sandwiched between layers of oats and butter.  (Note I said it was GF-gluten free - not fat free!)  When I checked my pantry I remembered that I was out of vanilla and just haven't made it to my favorite herb/spice store to replenish.  What to do, what to do?  So I tried pure lemon extract because I know blueberries and lemon are a good combination - the lemon brings out the sweetness of those blueberries - and the recipe already called for lemon zest.

I cannot even describe the aroma filling my home right now.

Side note here:  Two things on which you should never compromise in cooking: extracts and zest.  Always buy pure extract; yes, you'll pay a bit more but you'll use a little less and the flavor is worth it.  And if a recipe calls for lemon/lime/orange zest, don't skip that step!  (You can grate your citrus zest and freeze it in 1-tsp batches or in an ice cube tray; you don't even have to defrost it before you toss it in a recipe!)


On its own, lemon isn't really a star.  It is, well, let's be honest: it is a sour, acidic fruit.  Yet when you combine a lemon with other ingredients, something changes.   When mixed with oil and herbs, it becomes a dressing or marinade.  A squirt of lemon keeps apples, avocados and bananas from turning brown, and a slice adds brightness to an ordinary glass of water.  In the hands of a cook, a lemon becomes a catalyst for change to the flavors of a dish.

I don't know about you, but there are some "sour" things about me.  My attitude can be sour.  My mood can be sour.  My thoughts can be sour.  But if I allow it, these "sour" things can become a stimulus  for change.  In God's hands, my sour attitude becomes sweet as He teaches me to display the fruits of the Spirit in my life rather than the fruit of my flesh.  He gently points out my acidic tone with others; those times when my words cause the hearer to pucker from the taste - then skillfully combines that with His Word to render a conversation that brings healing and encouragement.

The next time you slice a lemon for your tea or to squeeze over a piece of fish, take a moment and ask God to take what is "sour" in your life and use it to change the flavor of your future.

The day after

I feel compelled to address the tragic events that we witnessed yesterday in Boston.  For many of us, it brought back memories of 9/11 or Oklahoma City.  Sadly, the words "Boston Marathon Bombing" will soon become as commonplace in meaning.

The aftermath of tragedy brings both unimaginable sorrow and beauty.  "Beauty?" you say.  Yes - for it is in these most difficult times that we find a sort of unspoken understanding in our communities and as a nation.  As you left your house this morning, you probably waved at your neighbor, took the time to actually look into the barista's eyes as she handed you your morning coffee or let someone merge in front of you in traffic.  Days such as these find us living our lives a bit more kindly - and that is a thing of beauty.

Crisis drives me to cook.  When calamity strikes someone I know, my first question is usually, "Can I bring you some dinner?"  In stressful situations, cooking a meal is the last thing on someone's mind; and while I can't solve his or her problem, I can do something, the one thing that I know will mean one less thing to worry about.  Everyone needs to eat.  For me, food equals comfort.  It is the thing to which I run in times of stress, sadness, celebration.  I realize that can be problematic (yes, a story for another day), but it's how I've lived my life.  Preparing and sharing food means that I am sharing part of myself.  I guess you could say that it is one way that I show love.

You may not love to cook like I do.  But what is it that you like to do, that you could share with others?

"Small things done with great love will change the world."

-Mother Theresa

Sweet potatoes and books

My husband and I have recently made a habit of visiting farmers markets on the weekends.  Since we became "school year empty nesters" (our youngest son left for college last fall), Glenn and I have had a lot more time to spend together.  A lot.  It's been quite a journey for us so far, trying to figure out who we are as a couple and what we like to do.  I was already a parent when we got married (a story for another day) so having this kind of unlimited couple time is new for us and one of our adventures has been finding these markets in our area.

Every Saturday or two - and the occasional Sunday - we head to a market or at least a sizeable produce stand to load up for the week, usually looking for something new to try or try again.  I will admit when we started going, I didn't even know there were so many different kinds of eggplant.  And I'm Italian!  A few weeks back we were eyeing some beets.  I don't like beets and neither does Glenn, but they looked so fresh and springy!  When the produce guy came over with some advice on how to choose and cook them, his offer to enjoy a bunch for free convinced us to take those ruby beauties home and roast them to perfection.

We still hate beets.

Lately I've discovered just how much I love sweet potatoes - not the ones covered in marshmallows - just baked sweet potatoes in their skins with a little butter and cinnamon inside or stuffed with black beans and garlic.  (Unless I'm at Buddy Freddy's, in which case I eat them mashed with brown sugar and pecans.  But I digress.)  As a child, I didn't like sweet potatoes, but every so often I'd take a little taste just to see...and today I am indeed a fan of those beta-carotene-packed hunks of goodness.

Which brings me to my students.  I teach teenagers who, for a variety of reasons, are at risk academically and some, physically.  They are unwillingly placed into my Intensive Reading class because they have not shown themselves to be proficient readers on our state test.  Whatever.  The fact is, they hate to read, they hate books and most of them daily remind me of this.  But I keep making them do it, working to find that "just right" book that will grab their attention, exposing them to a new book I've found or an author I think they'll like.  Before a new book goes into my classroom library, I usually give a little talk on it, pass it around, and try to build some interest in it.  Today, as I was offering up some fresh titles complete with a brief explanation of the plots, my students scrambled to grab the books before anyone else could - then sat and read for thirty minutes.  Not that fake-reading they usually try to get away with, but the real reading where you actually get lost in a book and when the period is over you try to convince your teacher to let you keep reading - "just to finish this page" - even though you'll be late to your next class.   Class after class, I wanted to cry.  Just like my repeated exposure to new vegetables and fruits helped me to develop a taste for them, pressing a new book into my students' hands over and over, all year long, finally paid off in tickling their reading palates - even just a little.

And we can apply this to our own lives.  What is it that you don't like doing?  What are you afraid of doing - or being?  Is there something you know you should at least try, but you haven't yet?  Start where you are.  Don't bite off more than you can chew, but take a taste of that new behavior, or attitude, or way of thinking.  Pretty soon it will be a habit in your life, just like eating your veggies.

It's only the beginning...

If you are reading this, you are part of an exciting new journey!  I've contemplated blogging for some time, but it was only this week that I decided to take the plunge.  Inspired by my friend Michele (check out her blog here) and provoked by another friend who told me, "Blog, woman, blog!" - here I am.  Thanks for joining me.

Over time, you will learn more about me, but for now let me start with this.  I love to cook.  I love to bake.  I love being in the kitchen - and it is there, in the solitude of stirring, mixing, creating, that I often learn a lesson about life.  Or relationships.  Or about myself.  Is there something in your life that brings you those moments?  Just a couple of days ago I was steaming some eggs to enjoy throughout the week.  (Yes, I said "steaming," not boiling - turns out the best way to hard cook an egg is to steam it, then plunge it into cold water.)  Pulling each one from its icy bath, I tapped, cracked, and peeled to get to the good stuff: the smooth cooked egg.  Slice it, hit it with some sea salt & cracked pepper, yum! So I was careful to remove every bit of shell in order to avoid an unwanted crunch while gently handling the egg so it wouldn't break.

That's when it hit me.  In God's hands, I'm the egg.  When I allow Him, He removes every bit of my "crunchiness" - that hard shell exterior in which I sometimes encase myself for protection.   He knows that the "good stuff" is on the inside, and He must peel away the shell to expose it.  Peeling eggs is a process that cannot be rushed, or you'll break the egg.  In the same way, God takes His sweet time with us, tenderly removing the attitudes, mindsets, and behaviors that make us brittle and resistant to His use.  This peeling process is painful; it sometimes feels like something is tearing away rather than being gently peeled.  Painful, but necessary, if you and I are going to become the women God created us to be.

So what can you expect here?  A little something to think about or to encourage you, along with some practical kitchen tips thrown in occasionally for fun.  Stop by often - and invite your friends.