Crispy Jalapeno Rice Balls Over Spicy Three-Bean Chili (Sew. Bake. Dr. Who. Hike. Repeat.)

These little jewels made our little bowl of chili a great big winner in our hearts. I had very little in the reserve tank for cooking earlier last week. Just recently getting my strength back. (Even canceled guitar again as I did not want to risk exposing myself to "little people germs" just yet--and there are a lot of little people traipsing in and out of my lesson place, trust me). When the inclination for food finally found me--I headed right back in the kitchen (starving) and did what most normal recovering women might do: reach for the frying pan. This chili wasn't going down with the traditional food stuff (corn bread). I was thinking really spicy, crunchy. I had picked a boat load of jalapeno peppers that morning in the garden. (Still picking them. The only tried and true, drought-resistant veggie apparently.) Quite honestly these rice balls demand another meal pairing. They were that good. And simple. I'll forgo the usual recipe at the bottom of the post here and jump to the way these came about. Oh, and for chili--just use your favorite recipe. It matters not, just know that the crunch factor combined with a little bit of heat and the yummy must-have guacamole and viola. Dinner.

Vegan Lemon Cornmeal Pound Cake (This is How 102 Feels, Almost Fifty and . . . On Going Gray)

Well, I suppose I should start with this lovely cake. This insufferable summer has caused my cake cravings to be put on hold. (Of course now we are in the middle of Hurricane Isaac weather--so far I've personally measured a rainfall amount of an inch and a half. Much needed rain.) I was worried about my sweet tooth issue. Nights would pass and not a single crumb of dessert could be found. I jumped in with a few batches of chocolate chip cookies--keeping the dough in the freezer for an occasional nibble, but other than that, nothing. I was confounded by this. My thoughts tended toward the "dark" side. (Or the hormonal.) Where had my sweet tooth gone?

I'm a woman, I live in Missouri and I vote. . . Akin

I've let two days pass. Thank god I live in a country where freedom of speech is granted, but never to be taken for granted.

I was appalled to open the paper and read yesterday's headline in the Post-Dispatch regarding the "legitimate rape" comment. No, let me restate that, I was trembling mad. I re-read the piece twice just to be sure I hadn't missed any detail. 

What I cannot come to grips with is this: Republicans can't seem to release themselves from wanting to legislate a woman's body. 

Get out of our bodies.

I make no apologies for being a woman. A strong woman. A woman who was always told by her mother to stand up for her rights. Don't ever be afraid. Don't ever allow intimidation influence your opinions. Stand tall.

 I was a kid who aspired to be an attorney. In grade school, I took pen to paper to write a letter to President Gerald Ford expressing said hopes and--received a letter back! The local paper ran a column about my letter. 

The world I was entering was slowly reckoning with the fact that women were no longer relegated to being second class citizens--submissive "types". My generation would have more choices than any female generation prior.

I don't need to elaborate or dredge up my own personal scars, or explain why I had such a visceral reaction to this unseemly comment. I simply need to vote. And I will. And because we live in a democracy and because other great women before me fought for this right, I will absolutely take the only action I can in the face of this insult. 

As of my writing, an apology has been issued. 

Apology not accepted. 

  

Sourdough: The Unveiling of My Daniel Leader Whole Wheat Sourdough Miche Inspired by Pain Poilane (Plus: "Dog Patch" Moments)

Looking back, this whole sourdough making experience was a lot easier than I had anticipated. Most of the work took place with me having to do nothing. Well, there were observations as there are with all experiments. But aside from that, it's a fairly hands-off sort of deal. 

However. The week it took to get my formula right had its moments. I have a little "reading" problem, as in, my eyes skip lines, skip pages and skip in general. I've had trouble with this for as long as I can remember. I just wrote it off as being someone with bad eyes and being blonde. After having been "in glasses" since I was six years old, I've always had to work a bit harder to "read". I am generally aware enough of this issue and just deal. 

Vegan Coconut Macadamia Nut Shortbread Cookie Or Beige Food Stuff from My Kitchen (Caution: sourdough starting AND crochet wrapping included!)

I've been in a rut lately. This is our third batch of these coconut shortbread cookies. I'm finding it difficult to "move on". They're the perfect beige food. (I have this overly obsessive nature--thus the "three batches" thing.) It all started with a cookie craving. I had to have a cookie with a long shelf life, and one that would step in as a late night dessert. These cookies aren't fussy. They have a light crumb--and I find the added coconut with macadamia nuts to be as close to heaven as you can get if chocolate isn't happening for you. (Rare. I know.) 

Indian Spiced Quinoa Patties with Farmer's Market Corn Medley (OMG: It's Raining!)

I wanted to write about these quinoa patties we'd had for over a week now. But the heat had stifled my writerly self to the point of such despair that I'd contemplated shunning "The Blog" for the remainder of the season until my heart and mind could once again muster the strength to put into words food stuff and my ramblings. Then I had that chocolate moment last week and that sort of broke the spell. Thank. God.

Chocolate Chip Oat Bran Muffins (Garden Dispatch: 110 Degrees)

Yes. I baked. Out of necessity. Out of the need for comfort, for kitchen time, for sanity . . . for chocolate. It was not a difficult decision for me. This baking moment. I wanted to bake to heal. 

What's wonderful about being a cookbook lover is that in the midst of all that is awful in the world right now, I need only enter the small space that is my kitchen, place a hand on the spine of a book and therein lies emotional recovery. I chose the path of chocolate for mine.

Heirloom Tomato Pot Pie with Biscuity-Thick Crust

I hadn't turned my oven or stove on in over a week. I felt like a ghost in my kitchen. My dear oven sat unused. My stove beckoned. My heart craved pastry. I had twelve pounds of tomatoes taking up some valuable kitchen real estate. No complaints. I'm just saying. Actually, I'm tickled to death over my abundant tomato harvest this year. I'd even go so far as to say "giddy". The rest of my yard, however, is sporting beige tones. Sigh. I promised myself I'd abstain from whining about this godforsaken summer.  

Jam Sessions ("A Little Nina Simone Would Do You Good" And My Summer Drought Harvest)

When I heard the temps would be in the "dangerous/triple digits" range for an undetermined period of time, I made a mad dash to the store for provisions: canning jars, Bing cherries, Rainier cherries, plums, blueberries (two pounds each), sugar, lemons and chocolate. If things were going to get bad, really bad, I wanted: bread, homemade cherry plum jam, Pandora (my Nina Simone station!), chocolate and my favorite espresso--Lavazza. I pretty much lived off these things the past few weeks--give or take.