Simmering forever ...

Or:

To Broth Road ...

I couldn't decide.

So! Top of the afternoon to you my dear, lovely readers. I am doing something for the first time today. Something small. Something simple. Something beautiful. Something with nails.

I dare say, I would like to do many more somethings for the first time this year.  Small, simple and beautiful things. Perhaps not all with nails.

I have always known how monumentally important it is to me. To grow, to expand, to learn. I have not always known, however, how to carry on. This unquenchable thirst that lies inside constantly curious, demanding infornation, can be troublesome sometimes. It can be hard to reel in. It can be hard to focus and to complete things when every corner promises a teacher and a new adventure.

So I start small. I take it slow. And when I veer off a path, I remind myself to return. Gently. I take the time to learn, the new things I try fitting in on my journey. 

Things take a little longer this way. The opposite of how I used to be. This self imposed slowness is magical. Transformative. Fearsome. It requires cultivating patience, humility, compassion, focus and perseverance. It demands that you allow. More importantly, it grants me the ability to continue on the journey. No magnificent spark, furious, brilliant fire and quick, equally magnificent fizzle. It allows for the slow and steady flame. It is wonderful to take a stroll to the left or to the right, to look at the fragrant grasses and inhale their scent on the breeze. Then to just come back, and walk a little further ahead. The road is always different and has many teachers. I now just wait a little bit, take a breath, or ten, perhaps deviate a little more, and then come back, to carry on. Slowly but surely :).

This brings me back  (somehow) to something with nails. To Broth Road. I have made this broth many times before. I know its ins and outs. Its color and scent. When it gets finicky and clouds over. But this time it is different. This time, I am simmering forever.

Time to dish.

Bone Broth

 

 

 

I cannot even begin to explain how magnificent this broth is. In terms of health and nutritional value it is unrivaled. In terms of flavour, divine. If you want to know more about the nutritional (and way beyond) value of Bone Broth, read here at the Weston Price Foundation or here at Nourished Kitchen.

Now.

 

Here is what you need:

• Organic chicken feet, yes feet, don't freak out. Yes they have nails and look like hands, don't freak out.
• Organic chicken necks
• Organic Chicken carcasses
• Apple cider vinegar, about two tablespoons
• Spring water, I used about about 6 liters

 

Here is what to do:

 

1. Put all of your ingredients into a large stock pot. Bring to a boil and then turn heat to the lowest possible value, and simmer forever.

 

By forever I mean about a week :). Take what you need to eat, drink, make rissoto with, steam, sautee, freeze or whatever else your little heart desires to do with this magical liquid throughout the day and just make sure to replenish the broth you take out with more spring water as you go along. Make sure the water you add is hot. By the end of the week, you will have extracted all the incredible nutrients out of those bones and your body will be oh so happy. Then, start again.

 

I myself dear readers, intend to have a pot on the stove, simmering forever. Week after week. Mostly :).

 

Enjoy.

Obviously not mulled wine ...

I wanted to post this just in case we cease to exist tomorrow. Just kidding. Mostly.

Are you ready? It's a good one... I (drum roll please) am so totally doing a mulled wine recipe. Mulled wine! Hoorah! I know you're super stoked right?! It's a pretty crazy thing this mulled wine business. Heated in fact (pun!). Now, judge me if you will but I love mulled wine. Many people don't (killjoys!). Many people believe it is blasphemy to sully the noble grape in such a manner. I however, am not one of these naysayers.

So, down to business.

To Pinot or not to Pinot? That, is the question.

I'm not sure many of you know this but I stopped drinking alcohol for about a year and a half. Why on earth would I do such a seemingly ludicrous thing? Well, frankly, to give my hardworking little organs a break from my lush, indulgent, gourmet self.

Before this mega pause -- which when started was terribly daunting and I did not think I would survive ... I mean supper, no wine?! Going out, no Kettle One on the rocks with a heavy twist?! Brunch, no mimosa?! After work, no extra dry extra cold shaken not stirred martini extra olives please?! Aperitif, no Campari, heavy on the oranage peel?!!! Just because, no Lagavulin 16 neat with a drop of water?!! Pub time, no Guiness, no snakebite, no black and tan?! I could go on. I could fill page. after. page. --  I fancied big, bold, bring you to your knees in gratitude for the magnificent grape red wine. Reds that grabbed me and rocked my taste buds to their very core. So tannic and rich they brought tears of joy to my eyes. My darlings. My Cabarnets, Syrahs and New World Merlots ...

But.

Post mega pause - which incidentally I did survive and there was no too much lucidity induced armageddon - I, dear readers, completely switched. Completely. I took myself by total, utter surprise. After all those years of the bold and the brave I was now completely (and utterly) a Pinot girl. Gone were the desires for that punch. That intensity. Here were desires for beautiful pools of clear light red that I just want to bathe in, fruity soft beginnings that lead to smooth complexities and soft caresses on the tongue. Every sip is a revelation, a joy, an enlightenment. Amen! Pinot! Pinot! Pinooooot!

Ahem.

A lengthy road, perhaps, but we got here.

So, to Pinot?

Yes. Absolutely.

Most people prefer a more full bodied wine to make said extraordinary drink but for me it is too heavy. When you start with a tannic, full bodied, extraordinarily present wine and then add spices, herbs, something sweet etc .. it just becomes too much. So this is why a gorgeous Pinot is such a gem. You have that exquisite balance of acidity, fruits and blooms and when you add just the right touch of mulling ingredients ... I tell ya dear readers you are in for a luscious treat.


Time to dish.


Mulled wine ... cheers dear readers, to your health and happiness. All my love.

Obviously not mulled wine but she's so cute, right?

Here is what you need:

• 1 bottle of awesome Pinot (I love Ninth Island from Tasmania ...Grrrrrrr )
• 1 fresh rosemary sprigs
• 2 whole cinnamon sticks
• 3 whole star anise
• 3 whole cloves
• 5 whole peppercorns
• 1/2 teaspoon of coriander seeds
• A few slices of ginger
• Peel of one orange
• Honey or maple syrup, as sweet as you like it (also get a mild honey/syrup otherwise it will overpower the wine...

Here is what to do:

1. Combine and boil. Hard right?
2. Seriously. That's it
3. I swear.
4. Once you've done that, simmer for about 2 - 3 minutes and then let the whole glorious concoction sit in your fridge overnight, overday, whatever ... and then if you like you can spike it with vodka but I like mine straight up. Neat. I always was a classic kinda girl...ish ...

Life on toast ...

The words still hesitate, but photos peek through.

The tomatoes for the sauce ...

The spirit of Fall. It warmed my heart as people passed by, stopped and smiled for a moment in their day. I would watch them from the window...

Lunch one day ...

A peek through the houseplants ...

Roasted tongue sandwich on pumpernickel ...

Love.

Sleeping angels on earth ...

More sleeping angels on earth ...

Crystal chandeliers that let in the prism every day ...

Peace and love and hot tea ...

Lunch another day ...

Life on toast ...

Just me and the tomatoes ...

Holy crap does the time ever fly. Yes yes, eloquent, I know. I've been laying low. I am also an expert at stating the obvious. And writing in broken sentences. Ummm, yeah, there I go again with the whole stating the obvious thing. Alright...ahem ...focus ... it's been a while... So this low laying business was so low, I had not even realized how the time has passed.

I'm going to tell you something dear readers. Something that I probably should not be telling you because I mean, what kind of writer (especially of a blog) thinks such things or even worse, says such things but ... well ... the thing is, I've wanted to keep it to myself for a while. The cooking, that is.

To hug it close to my heart and not share it with anyone. It's strange, I suppose, but I have wanted to cook on my own, just me and the tomatoes and the grassy olive oils. Me and the peppers bubbling in the pan while I gently coaxed them into a beautiful paste. I've wanted to hang the herbs and the flowers I have collected for the teas and to not take one single photo of anything.

Instead, I have been gallivanting around and want to share some other photos with you. Here's some of what I've been up to this last little while ...

Time to dish. Dish up some photos that is.



Camping by the sea and looking through tent skylights ...

Lounging lazily by eastern beaches ...

Camping not by the sea in this too authentic teepee freezing my butt off while pregnant spiders dangled in my face. Quelle horreur. I'll tell you about it.

Reminding myself ...

Massaging ...

Travelling back in time ...

Finding hearts ...

Losing it a bit with my first lobster bib ...

Creating counter carnage art ...

Eating the best blueberry pie of my life. Period.

Watching my baby get cleaned by the cutest parrot ever. She was licking his stubble. Yep. It happened.

Reading...

This is what made me lose it with above mentioned bib. I just could not contain myself.

And of course, taking pictures of Napa...

Lots of them ...

Because she is just so cute. And precious. And I love her.

And I just want to squeeze her. Bebek.

Tomorrow, I have a recipe.

Happy Fall dear readers.

Summer sadness...

It is eight in the morning on a corner, at this cafe. The world has stopped. It is completely still. Not one thing is moving. Not one leaf sways on a branch. Nothing flutters except my heart. The rich, creamy, ebony espresso which I shouldn't have always makes me jittery. The air is heavy with moisture in a sky still carrying rain. The morning fog oppresses the mountain and the sun hides behind billowy, blue dense cloud, but I know he's there. He scorches my skin and fills my nostrils with hot, still, heavy air. My cheeks are hot. My heart beats faster. My summer sadness. I need the wind. Things must move. I pray for downpour and the gray, soft beauty in the aftermath.

And tonight, I make bomba.

Time to dish.

Marissa's Bomba recipe

Here is what you need:

• Cherry bombs, aka hot cherry peppers, chopped. Leave in the seeds baby!
• A clove of garlic, smashed.
• Coriander, just a handful.
• Sea salt and good olive oil.

Here is what to do:

1. Get your lovely pot out and get everybody in there. Cook on a low heat for about half an hour. After which, pound it all in your mortar and pestle or buzz it in the processor adding oil as needed. Until dear friends, you have a rich, red, spicy bomb!

Should be enough to get things moving...

My intersection ...

Some days, all I can do is wait to feel normal. For the sharpness to pass, for the winds of change to die down. They always do, you know. It's something I keep reminding myself. On these days I sit on corners. I watch people intersecting while I wait for my selves to merge. They cycle and walk and run and glide. Trying to avoid one another. Trying to avoid collision. Trying to get across safely.

I watch one of the travelers run by and read her t-shirt.

Stay calm, and slay the dragon.

I sit and watch, and wait. I wait for the answers to appear, for the awkwardness of life to pass and for another moment.

My stormy desert. My intersection. My calm.