Move Over Turkey!

It's Thanksgiving time again, and turkey is on everyone's mind. Oh, for the love of stuffing, what's a vegetarian family to do?

Well, for the first year of our marriage, we tried to keep it somewhat traditional and had tofurky with all the usual trimmings on the side. How was it, you ask? Um ... I think it's enough to say that we didn't do it again the next year. We were still eating some fish very rarely then, so for the next few years we made a special occasion of it with some small pieces of salmon. And then ...

(Dal with homemade cheese (paneer) and peas; homemade naan, apple salad, and the potatoes-with-gravy that I'd choose over the mashed kind any day)

... and then! One fateful year my husband decided to try cooking Indian food. It was an instant success, and that's what we've done every year since then. It's so much fun to cook, and it fills the house with the yummiest smells, and the kids roll up their sleeves and pitch in too - which means no one person is stuck in the kitchen all by his or her lonesome - and I love this tradition so much that even if the world turns upside-down and we go back to eating meat, I think we'd still make Indian food on Thanksgiving.

(Making the Naan, Thanksgiving 2008)

And so. For your reference and inspiration, here are some of our favorite books to get ideas and recipes from:

Truly, if you're going to try cooking a different cuisine - besides Mexican or Italian - Indian is the most fun and the easiest, I think, by far. I dare you to give it a try!

And for dessert, as long as we're being non-traditional, we've also abandoned pumpkin pie for this:


Which is my bunt-pan take on this cake, which I blogged on just about a year ago, right here.

Please, Will You Come to Dinner?

Sometimes I wish we could all just sit down together and have dinner. Everyone. The whole planet. There's just something about sharing a meal ... I wonder if we could get a few of our collective issues resolved that way, and get to know each other in the process. Wouldn't that be lovely?

But since we can't actually sit down together, here's a little glimpse of what it would be like if I could invite you all to my house for dinner.

The table is all set. (We hope you don't mind that the place mats are wrinkled.)

Candlelight is a must, even though we're down to our last candles and they don't match. A few months ago we started lighting these candles at dinner time to encourage good table manners. If anyone in the family is caught being rude or inconsiderate at the table, one candle gets blown out. If we have any still lit at the end of dinner, we can all have dessert; if they're all blown out, no dessert. It's been working out amazingly well!

Our dining room is also my sewing space ...

... and those baskets are where we keep our napkins (which we use every day) and napkin rings (if we're feeling fancy) and our best silverware. I think it's a shame to let good silverware sit unused in a box, so I've decided we'll use this set every Sunday in addition to holidays and other special days.

Our dining room is also home to part of our library, and all the kids' art supplies ...

... and usually a napping cat or two.

And what's on the menu? Tonight it's Spicy Tofu Bento Bowl from Vegetarian Times magazine. Please make sure to press your tofu first! For dressing, the one in the recipe makes things too spicy for my taste (but my husband prefers it, so it all depends on who's making dinner!) so I use Brianna's Ginger Mandarin to sweeten the deal.

What's for dinner at your house tonight? And if you try the recipe, I'd love to hear what you think of it!

Pumpkin Pie Who?

Did you ever have something so incredible that you just wanted to share it with everyone you've ever met and even some people you haven't? I have something like that. Emily Luchetti's recipe for Cranberry Pecan Upside Down Cake. We make it every year, at least once, for the holidays. I wish I could just make it for you, and we could all sit down together and eat it with cups of caramel rooibos tea or tall glasses of cold, cold milk.

Oh, I hope you make this, and enjoy it just as much as I do!

Creatures of Habit. With a Purpose.

This is the bowl I always rise the bread dough in, and the cloth I always use to cover it.
Somehow, it matters.

For most of my sophomore year in college, I was completely broke. Oh, I had a job ... as a lunchtime waitress at a hole-in-the-wall Filipino restaurant, where we were paid in cash weekly and the health code seemed all but nonexistent. While I wasn't desperate - I had good friends and the support of my family - I was determined to make it on my own, and the chances of success often seemed pretty grim. I even found myself selling my books - my beloved books!! - to buy groceries. And yet, somehow, there was always in my budget, a little money every week for three flowers (inexpensive daisies, one for me and each of my roommates) and an Italian soda (Irish cream, no whipped cream, and please whatever you do, don't stir it). Always. When my cupboards were bare and I wondered how on earth I was going to make it, there was need for this small indulgence, this ritual I had every week. It gave me something tangible to look forward to; it gave me a small but vital sense of stability when I needed it most. It made a big difference in how I thought about my situation.

I survived, I graduated, and I got a "real" job. I even bought back most of my favorite books. These days I have a comfortable home where the pantry is full. But in times of want or in times of plenty, I find that I still need simple rituals. Though the circumstances and the flowers are different (I really prefer dahlias over daisies), there is still beauty and necessity in daily, meaningful rituals. They give shape to my days at home, and more purpose to almost every act.

The difference, I believe, between a ritual and just something you do all the time, is intent. How much lovelier it is to bake our weekly bread loaves when I take the time to knead the dough with mindfulness; when I think about the wheat fields and the grain mill and the family the bread will feed. How much nicer it is to hang out our laundry in the summertime when I don't try to rush, and spend a few seconds now and again to really feel the sun on my face and appreciate its warmth. It works for everything. From washing the dishes to making your bed (yes, every morning, it makes a big difference trust me!) to ... well, everything!

Try it, I dare you! Find some way this week to make your daily tasks into rituals, and see if it doesn't improve your outlook. Whether you're a starving college student or a working professional or a busy mama. And then come back and tell me about it! I can't wait to hear your stories.

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Our Daily Bread - makes 2 loaves

1 Tbsp (or 1 packet) yeast
1 Tbsp sugar or honey
2 cups warm water
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1-1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup flax seed meal
1-2/3 cup whole wheat flour
4-5 cups bread flour

Combine yeast and sugar in a mixing bowl. Pour in warm water and leave it for about 10 minutes. Add salt and oil, then flax and flours. Mix well until dough is uniform and slightly sticky (add flour as needed). Remove from bowl and knead on a clean surface for a while - the time matters less than how you feel about kneading. Lightly oil your favorite bowl and place bread dough in it, turning once. Cover with a lovely cloth and let rise for about an hour, until dough is double in size. Divide in half and knead again. Shape into loaves, and place them in oiled loaf pans. Cover again and let rise for about 30 minutes. Bake in 350-degree oven for 25-30 minutes, until tops are golden and loaves sound hollow when tapped. Turn out onto cooling racks within about 5 minutes.

Music is What Feelings Sound Like

I am a violinist.

My sister is a violinist.

My mother is a violinist.

My Gammie (grandmother) was...no, still is in heaven, a violinist.

My Great Gammie was a fine pianist.

There are many more.

I came to this earth with music in the deepest part of my soul. Even as I sit here trying to think of words I am bound up with tears and can't seem to wrap my brain around what my heart feels when I play. That is why the tradition of music exists in me. That is why I am who I am and why I feel what I feel.

I get so anxious for Christmas time to come because I get to play my guts out in all sorts of events. I use to play in a Symphony and I miss it terribly. Some day I will return to that! I use to play a lot and right now, in this stage of my sweet life, I choose to be a mom, teach what I know, and share my talents when ever I get the chance. This weekend I got that chance and I got to feel what I love, love, love to feel!

I think everybody has a special place in their soul for good music. Music that makes you smile or dance or sing or cry. Sometimes I find that certain music just wants to burst out of me. Do you ever feel that way? Last night it was the Brahm's Cradle Song followed by a simple I am a Child of God. It's hard to explain.

The Maple Valley Christmas Creche exhibit is a big deal around here. The large main room is filled with at least 500 nativity exhibits and the walls are beautifully decorated with pictures of the Savior throughout his whole ministry. The music being played in the chapel is piped into the main room and listeners are welcome to sit and enjoy. As I stood on that stand and started to play I felt like I...well it's hard to explain...like I could have hopped right out of my skin and watched as my Heavenly Father played it for me. It was effortless and clean and the spirit of it completely represented what I believe this Christmas Season to be about. One reason I know that music exists is so that people like me...who can't seem to find the right words...can express what they really feel. I am not eloquent in speech or in writing yet. I don't always know what to say or how to say it but I have a really great outlet and am grateful for that gift.

My Great Gammie's legacy of loving and sharing music has been carried on by many precious women in my life and I feel overwhelmed and very honored to do the same thing. I think that traditions are meant to bring us closer to others. I feel like that when I play my violin.

Stitched with Love

Last night as I was nursing and rocking my baby, my eyes wandered over to the closet, and my mind wandered onto a topic I have contemplated many times before: blankets. We have way more blankets in this house than any family of four could ever need! I’ve considered getting rid of some, but how? They are almost all attached to a person we love; our mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers (and even a few dear friends) have showered us with not just blankets, but quilts, beautiful personalized quilts.

I remember watching my mom sew at the kitchen table when I was a kid. And now I sit and sew at my own kitchen table and wish that I had taken notes while I watched her, or learned how to get my corners square or how to follow a pattern better. Luckily, I still can.

My husband’s grandmother sews every day, and she is eighty-six years old. In the past two years, she has sewn a quilt for each of the twenty members of her family and hundreds more for children who have no one else to provide them with one—no one, that is, except Grandma T.

Not too long ago I made a quilt with Rachel. It was for Jenni’s first little girl. Now every time I see that quilt, or a piece of the fabric we used in it, it takes me back to Rachel’s house, the wood floors and smell of lavender, our girls playing with a tin tea set while we cut and ironed and sewed; to the baby shower at Cali's house where we held up the quilt and had our picture taken together; memories shared and loved.

(don't be mad that I used this photo)

Both my daughters have chosen the blanket that they love the most. My youngest, Naomi, actually chose mine. The one blanket that she totes everywhere and snuggles with at naptime and bedtime (and many times in between) is the blanket that my grandmother made for me when I was born. It had holes and was tattered even before she got it, but it is a source of comfort and warmth to her, nevertheless.

I love the quilts and blankets that fill up my home—all of them. Some are flowered and some are patterned with Dora and Winnie the Pooh. Some are square, and some are too worn to have much shape anymore. I have my favorites, I do. But each one draws me closer to someone I love.

This tradition of quilting—of making a basic ordinary need into something beautiful—is something I have grown to love. I sometimes feel that my appetite for beautiful fabric and loving stitches is greater than my appetite for good food—but not quite. 

And so, I sew. And I will continue to make quilts, stitched with love from generation to generation. 

Peanuts and the Poverty Bench Boys

A Christmas tradition that has always occupied a special place in my heart is actually one that isn't around anymore, but the memory of it is still crystal clear. Until I was in college, the question "Where are we going for Christmas?" was never uttered. It was a given we would head to Granny and Grandpa's in their sleepy little mountain town that, to me, encompassed all that is Christmas, and, for a long time, I was sure was the inspiration for the majority of our classic Christmas carols.

As a kid, Christmas Eve was the night to get dressed in our finest and attend the annual Christmas program and party. After the primary children finished their Nativity program and the closing prayer was offered, a distant jingling was barely audible but loud enough to send the children into fits of cheering. A big "Ho ho ho!" and in one fell swoop, the chairs were pushed to the perimeter of the church gym and a line formed to wait patiently (not) to voice our wishes to Santa. Afterward, Santa would send us on our way with our paper sack of goodies: a delectable collection of chewy-sugared-orange-slice candy, little square blue hard candies that were supposed to taste like mints but were more like menthol cough drops, and lots and lots of peanuts in the shell. Too impatient to break open the shells one by one, we found it worked faster to put our paper sacks on the wood floor and stomp. Wallah! Shelled peanuts!

All while this went on, parents looked on and an old-time band called the Poverty Bench Boys plunked away at familiar Christmas tunes for everyone to dance to. Those guys seemed pretty ancient back then, but they managed to come back year after year to strum their guitars, pick their banjos, pluck their base fiddles and play their accordians. This is the only occasion I remember my dad dancing, but faithfully he was there to be my dance partner for at least one song. The photo's pretty fuzzy, but look closeley and you can you see my pure delight in hanging on to my handsome daddy for a short time. This has to be one of my all-time favorite photos.



Sadly, this tradition is one that has fizzled over the years for one reason or another. I haven't made the effort to verify the why's, when's, or who's or to fill in any gaps because I want the memory to remain that of a girl who, for one night, felt the magic and excitement of an old-fashioned Christmas.

~~

And now, something to share. Traditionally, we have bicuits and gravy for Christmas breakfast, so here is the recipe for the biscuit mix, just like my Granny's that she kept up on the shelf in a big blue glass Ball jar. It's super yummy, except I've not mastered it entirely. No matter what I do or how much my biscuits look just like hers, there is some kind of Granny magic she put in there that made them taste better.

Biscuit Mix

9 cups flour

3 TB baking powder

1 TB salt

1/4 c. sugar

2 cups shortening

Mix all dry ingredients well. Cut in shortening to make a coarse meal texture and store in closed container. Take out desire amount of mix and combine with milk to make a soft, sticky dough. Turn out onto floured surface, roll gently to 1/2" thick and cut into round biscuits. Place on greased pan and bake at 400 for 20 minutes until golden brown.

Black Friday

Every Thanksgiving after finishing our traditional dinner, another tradition of Thanksgiving would come. All the girls would sit down and start looking at the mountain of ads. It is something I have been doing since I was 14 or so. At that time I never bought anything, I just helped my mom and sisters get their stuff. Then I grew up and began to really learn the meaning of Black Friday and deal hunting. Since I consider myself a little bit seasoned on the topic, I will list off some ground rules for the day. I know this is a little late, but there are still a few weeks of shopping left and some crazy deals still going on.

1) Make a list of everything you are going to try to get for each store along with the price it is being advertised at. We always have at least one ad with us just in case.

2) Decide the order you are going to shop in. When they open, door busters you are trying for, and popularity of the store are all a factor in making the list.

3) Have a plan for each store. Do not go wander aimlessly. Walmart actually listed maps on thier website this year. Things are in odd spots no matter what store you go to. Games in the kids clothes, TV's near the pet supplies, etc. You must have a plan. My mom, sisters, and I would split up each other's lists and take areas of the stores so we were not in the same area and we would be grabbing for everyone.

4) As mentioned above I used to go with my family till I moved away, so find someone to go with. Even if it is your husband.

5) Do Not, I mean DO NOT get a cart! If at all possible! They are traps. It will take you ages to get in and out of the store. Traffic jam! If you need to get one cart and find a central location for everyone to meet at. My mom would always get a cart if we needed one and sit in the underwear section or somewhere not very many people are and we would meet her there with the goods, or she would wait in line and we would bring stuff to her.

6) Laugh. There are too many grumpy people out for you to be a bum. This is supposed to be a fun and crazy day. How many times a year can you stand in line at Walmart at 3:30 in the morning in the cold with 500 other people? It is a once a year thing. It is no big deal if you miss a door buster. Some are pretty hard to get. And if you are going for a big ticket item make sure you are first in line if there are only 4 in the store and ask the employees while you are waiting in line where they are so there will be no confusion. Seriously don't be a grumpy grumpster. They can ruin the day for everyone.

I did this every year in Colorado till I got married and moved away. It was always freezing cold. Long johns, 3 pairs of socks, tights, pants, coats, jackets, gloves, hats, they were all necessary. I will always remember my sister stripping off her layers while driving from one store to the next. By the third or 4th store we were down to our normal clothes. It is one of those make sure you go to the bathroom before you get dressed days. It is so stinking fun though. Really you can make a killing on the sales that day. Just don't take it too seriously, and if you miss something move on. Especially this year. I don't see TVs going up in price anytime soon, as well as the bluerays. So take it from a vet. Be prepared, be calm, stay comfy, and laugh. It can be a blast!

Cali