11.23.09
Train trip
The little one turned six this week, and his birthday present was a train trip to Portland, OR.
Before we left, he unwrapped a miniature Starlight Express and hasn’t stopped playing with it since.
King Street Station is beautiful. The ongoing restoration project is very encouraging. Here is a fascinating slideshow of the station, past and present.
Of course, I’m not the only one with an opinion on Seattle’s train station. This is from the 18 Nov Seattle Times: “King Street Station sure to be a memorable eyesore
Within 90 days, Seattle will accidentally become host to thousands of Olympic fans, overflowing from Vancouver venues, eager to see what our city has to offer.
Many of them will take the train service from Vancouver to King Street Station, a poorly lit, rundown building with absolutely no amenities, and no connecting bus service — it’s a quarter mile to Metro and two miles to Greyhound. There is no hospitality center with directions to close restaurants or attractions, and here’s the kicker: no coffee — in Seattle, for god’s sake — in a place where people are milling around waiting for late trains.
King Street Station is an embarrassment to Seattle.
If this is the way we present ourselves to our guests, what does that say about us? Our Port of Seattle spares no expense at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, but in a time when more and more people are considering the train, here we are with King Street Station, the gateway to Seattle.”
— Rick Sullivan, Seattle
Good points, yet my impression is that good progress is being made, Rick. Anyway, Amtrak’s coach class is roomy and comfortable. If you’re traveling with young children, there’s a fair chance they’ll seat you in the car with other babies and kidlets, so if the crying gets to you, just take a lurchy walk through the cars to the lounge car. It’s a great place to watch the sunset (it feels like a moving conservatory, all glass windows and sunroof.
Also, the dining car is as great as everyone told us it would be. I really liked the pumpkin-cranberry pie.
A. got a kick out of playing with his toy train on the train.
Quick list of Portland highlights:
Hotel Monaco, a place for people who live through the senses.
Greek Cusina — great lemon potatoes, oregano chicken, garlicky hummus, great pita bread.
Typhoon –smoky lettuce wraps, great chicken paneng, pear and prawn salad.
Red Star Tavern — a good place to blow more than you wanted on breakfast. Seriously good food, though.
And Powell’s. Our backpacks and bags were twice as heavy as when we entered. Need I say more?
On our return, we reached Seattle 45 minutes ahead of schedule, so we stood outside Qwest Field and watched the MLS Cup on the Jumbo Tron for awhile. Go Salt Lake Real! Either way, we would have been cheering. Soccer on that level is heady stuff. 
10.23.09
What to do on a rainy night
Make brandied pear sauce:
approximately 8 pounds of ripe Bosc pears
2 oz brandy
1 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp ground cardamom
2 oz lemon juice
Peel and core pears. Put pears, brandy, cinnamon, and cardamom in a heavy stockpot and simmer until pears are soft. Add lemon juice. Pour into blender and puree, then pour back into stockpot to reduce for about 30 minutes. When it’s lovely and viscous, ladle it into containers (I’m going to freeze these jelly jars–which you can do if the jars are straight-sided).
With a scoop of vanilla ice cream, I bet this tastes like pear gelato. I’ll soon find out!
10.17.09
The Oikos, post 1
Hestia’s at her mirror here. Changes within the household abound, and this week posed a particular challenge.
S.’s been sick for more than a week beginning last Friday, the kind of sickness that recedes and leaves a bouncing, happy girl one hour and rears up to leave a languishing, glassy-eyed and coughing wreck the next hour. B. and I were able to share care-taking responsibilities for Friday-Sunday. Monday I stayed with her, Tuesday B. took off of work to be with her, Wednesday she came with me to Seattle (picking K. up from the airport, etc.), and then by Thursday she was feeling fine but hanging onto a cough. So I didn’t send her to school, but took her with me to UW. We loaded her up with cough drops and a thick scarf and she didn’t cough once on the bus. She read and did schoolwork while I was in class, and felt mighty grown-up.
I have a feeling that the question of what one does with quasi-sick kids will rear its head again.
The dinner routine has settled into much the same pattern as last week:
Mon: I man the panini press
Tues: leftover soup from B’s Sunday Soup pot
Wed: crockpot dinner
Thurs: hodge podge or another crockpot
Fri: pizza and salad
This Friday, we ordered take-out pizza from a new place here on Bainbridge, Modern Pie. We got ham and pineapple with black olives (not by a long shot the most interesting toppings they offer). It tasted like our homemade pizza crusts (I couldn’t tell that their pizza had been baked in a brick oven)–which is to say, good, but a bit heavy. They use a raw tomato sauce that’s really different and excellent (the fontina sticks tasted a bit like bruschetta).
Because of this week’s particular demands (including me being in Seattle all day Tues, Wed, and Thurs), the old homestead is in sad shape and the weekend has never felt so welcome. Saturday cleaning, here we come!
10.16.09
The Grapes of Ash
It’s pretty easy, though time-consuming, to make grape juice with a steam-juicer.
1. Wash grapes and load into steamer compartment
2. Fill bottom pan with 3 quarts water and steam grapes for 1 hour
3. Meanwhile, sterilize jars and lids, then fill and seal. No need to process further. Feel very gratified when you hear the little pop of those jars sealing themselves.
4. Major cleanup of various purple ponds and puddles, and of course the little sticky, staining grape juice spots that had an itch to travel and see the world beyond your workspace.
10.13.09
Campus crush
Crush of students, crushed rose petals perfuming the path, my crush on the physical campus of UW growing with every visit.
Having traipsed my shivering way through the city today, I think I’ll document how lovely my past couple of afternoons at the university have been.
Lunch outside the Guggenheim building, with rose-scented breezes and chatting students strolling around the grand fountain. Almost ideal. I’m trying to find the perfect yogurt, and this greek-style is good until you read the fat content. By Zeus, the stuff has 17 grams. Cannery Row, on the other hand, is fat-free with lots of pith and fiber for the old noggin to chew on.
10.11.09
Stretch Island
Yesterday we visited some friends who live on Stretch Island, about an hour’s drive away. They live amidst acres of Eden: grapes, hazelnuts, pears, and a late flush of flowers everywhere. The kids got to cut the grapes off the vine and sit on shoulders to pick the Bosc pears.
These grapes are a variety bred especially for Stretch Island, called Island Belle. There’s a fascinating history of them here. I’m going to put my steamer-juicer to work, and we’ll have gorgeous grape juice in no time at all.
You have to be careful around friends like V. I exclaimed in delight over her delicate October blooms here and she promptly dug up an armful for me. These are Kaffir lilies, and now I’ve got some of V’s blooming in my yard. They’re in glad company with some of her rosemary, yellow lilacs, and sage I’m rooting in.
10.08.09
Of Mountains and Molehills
Now that I’m climbing some metaphorical mountains in my life, it turns out that the mundane details also rise up into greater relief. Perfect fodder for blogging, right? Stuff like dinner has to be thought out and planned for in advance, and I’m interested in seeing how our diet changes as I’m away from home more. I’m also interested in how the housework tedium gets allocated, and how much of it the kids (11, 9, 5) can take on.
But for now, just a quick post documenting this week’s dinner menu and responsible parties.
Monday: panini night (kids eat before B. and I do because he works late Mondays)–I manned the panini press.
Tues: crockpot spaghetti sauce (I put it together before heading to Seattle for the day). B. cooked the pasta and garlic bread when he came home.
Wednesday: chili (leftover from a big Sunday pot of chili–thanks for the Sunday soup idea, Adam Gopnik!) and homemade applesauce. That one was kinda everyone heating up as much as they wanted.
Thursday: crockpot Thai coconut curry (I just put it together, never having done it in the crockpot before. We’ll hope for the best.)
1 can light coconut milk
some water
some brown rice
2 tsp red curry paste
2 tsp condensed chicken stock
carrots
potatoes (lots of those baby ones from the garden)
green beans
peas
Friday: pizza and salad night. B. makes the pizzas, I make the salad.
09.13.09
Autumn vignette
Making applesauce on a Sunday afternoon with my husband, multi-tasking and teaching my daughter to use the hand-cranked food mill while crisping up some corn tortilla strips for tortilla soup, I find that olive oil has a surprisingly low flash point. Clap on the lid, out goes the smoking pan, with screams of horror and glee behind me. Open all the doors and windows. Abandon applesauce, abandon dinner.
Retreat, retreat!
Why did I just feel compelled to smell my arm? Varnished smoked arm hair.
09.07.09
Tillicum village
We visited Blake Island’s Tillicum Village tonight–a fantastic experience with a traditional salmon-bake dinner, a performance of native dances, and time to stroll around outside in the rain-fresh air afterwards.
The salmon are baked around an alderwood fire for about an hour.
The dancer told me the headdress he wears weighs 40 lbs.
Outside, there’s a totem garden, deer grazing nonchalantly, and a little girl trying to give her mama a maori princess chin tattoo.
06.27.09
The Idaho in me
My potato patch:
I should have grabbed A. to be my scale reference–these vigorous monsters are up to his shoulders. I’m thinking they like the bunny-dropping fertilizer I treat them to.
I dug some of the new potatoes, both reds and golds, and made potatoes and peas in chive cream sauce for dinner. Was there ever a happier gardener? I don’t think so.
