Today I'm on a time limit. I have an hour left. An hour left on my wireless connection at The Coffee Studio, an hour left on my laptop battery, an hour left before heading back to relieve the once-a-week babysitter I allow myself. An hour left to write. Most of the time, I'm found during those precious three-hour stretches running errands without a 23-month-old on my back and a 3-1/2 year old at my side. But today I've given myself an hour of that for precious ol' "me" time. So let's get on with it. (By the way, if you checked out the link to The Coffee Studio, you'll see a picture of me and a 3-month-old Ettu on their home page. You can see us only from the back, but the striped hat is Ettu. Needless to say, this has been our home town coffee shop for quite a while now, since it opened the same month that picture was taken.)
Last weekend we went to our first outdoor farmer's market of the season here in Chicago. We were gone for a good month in the early spring, but from what I hear, the weather was not too accommodating; now, it appears, spring has sprung. Shortly after coming home from our veggie venture, Nooa came down with high fevers and the next day, Sunday, was a dreadfully rainy day. A good weekend to stay put, to say the least. Luckily, we had just done our weekly grocery shopping and had all these great greens, radishes, rhubarb, and other fun finds at the market. I made a hearty potato, kale, and pinto bean soup, mildly based on this recipe (although I did forego the completely vegan plan and used whole milk instead of almond milk; I also used pinto beans instead of butter beans, opted out of the miso, since I didn't have it on hand, and I decided not to puree the veggies at the end, instead leaving the soup nicely chunky). Oh, and I did make homemade croutons out of some left-over onion buns we had with hamburgers the previous night. While the soup was simmering, I cut up the stalks of rhubarb for a pie. Normally, I am not a pie person, but I can't resist a good rhubarb pie. I had a pie crust in the freezer, which was rare and perfect for such an occasion.
I used this recipe as a foundation (super simple!). I did use the crumble top recipe and added pure vanilla to the rhubarb mixture. I must confess, I forced Nalin out into the rain to buy some vanilla ice cream. I just couldn't resist.
There is something so primal about cooking around what we have gathered (ideally from our own gardens, in this case from someone else's!). Michael Pollan, in his book, In Defense of Food, makes a simple and provocative statement: "Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants." This is not always easy or possible, but it makes a lot of sense. Yesterday, I needed to make something for an event at Ettu's school. Normally tempted to go out and buy something or at least buy groceries to create something, I rather gave myself the challenge of finding everything in my pantry or fridge. What I came up with was a fairly simple pasta salad: penne with a few cherry tomatoes and olives remaining in my fridge, some shredded asiago and parmigiana cheese found in my meat and cheese drawer, a saute of mustard greens, red spinach, garlic and spring onions added to the mix (all from the farmer's market), a bit of chopped sage that came back in our deck pots from last year, some toasted almonds, a little balsamic vinegar, and a healthy douse of olive oil. Et voila. A perfect al fresco dish.
Nalin and I were talking this morning about "eating our seeds today." In other words, investing in tomorrow by not indulging in today. This is a spectacularly hard concept for me to put into action. It is, in my estimation, my worst flaw. But this resonates on so many levels. And it is something that I hope to achieve in little ways every day. And now I see my time is up. So okay, a little indulgence (in this case my time and some precious hours of babysitting), is not always so bad. Perhaps it is even an investment. Let's all hope.