Thursday, May 29, 2008

Go Ahead, Thank Me for Sparing You the Complete Travel Log

















As the Law of Conservation of Film doesn't apply to digital cameras, I took well over 200 pictures in Washington DC. I'll spare you the agony of ruffling through all of them (half of which are repeats and only half of those are really worth keeping), or even having to view them for the next several months on some sort of ongoing slide show on my sidebar.

However, I cannot completely overlook six wonderful days spent with only myself to look after and no bums to wipe, so this will be a DC post, though I'm hoping it doesn't deteriorate to a mere travel log of events. Yankee Girl's side bar says with her typical wry humor, "this blog does have narrow focus--it is all about me!" The same could easily be said here, but I hope this post does a little bit more than that. I want it to illustrate lessons learned from the journey, both literally and figuratively. And a few pictures.

As mentioned in the pre-DC post, my brother and his wife had led a pretty sheltered Utah-life when they moved to DC almost four years ago. Saturday night, I put my arm through hers as we walked the length of the Reflecting Pool on the way to the WWII monument. The moon was nearly full and it was possible to see a few stars, even with the bright city lights. I knew Shay had mixed emotions as she prepared to leave DC and I asked her if she was holding up okay. She said yes, but was quiet for several moments. Knowing that it takes my sister-in-law just a minute to find exactly the right words, I was quiet. She said, "You know, it isn't just that we've seen a lot of cool stuff since we've lived here." She gathered her thoughts again for a moment, "It is that living here as formed who Eric and I are as adults. Our whole world view is different."














I nodded, understanding perfectly what she meant. The places I've lived have likewise helped form my adult self--it isn't just what you see, it is who you've become.

Because self is constantly evolving, I would like to echo Shay's sentiments here and talk about some of the things I learned from my latest trip to DC. Because as much as I love monuments, museums, art galleries, relaxing and shopping, travel is more than all of this. I think its great value lies in the lessons taught when we immerse ourselves in things we've never seen before, when we try to think about things from other prespectives and see things for a moment as others see them.

So here are my travel insights. No doubt, your own visits to DC have taught you other things. Feel free to comment:

1) Can there be anything more sickening than the shoes, particularly the tiny shoes, in a large pile at the Holocaust Museum? I did not visit this venue last time I was in DC, and I was really grateful that I didn't pass it up a second time. I spent two hours in a haze of realization beyond anything I've ever learned about this "final solution" master-minded by a totalitarian government. While there, I imagined a young mother with three children and her strong husband, leaving behind every worldly posession but a small carpet-bag and the clothes on their backs. They are crammed into a box car with scores of families. On the journey, her children cry out in hunger and fear--it is dark and they are given nothing to eat or drink. They know they are headed east, someplace cold, and so the mother had insisted that each of her children were well-bundled, but these clothes become a terrible liability as the heat climbs and there is no way to catch a breath, or room to remove clothing. If her family of five manages to survive to the death camp, she and her darling, beloved little children will be sent one way, and her husband another. We know what happens next.















What constantly amazes me is that nobody in the chain of command said, "Wait! Enough is enough! People cannot be treated this way!" 2/3 of Europe's Jews wiped out in a handful of years, with a resistance so weak as to be almost negligible. The exhibit's final section is about the rescuers--both those who came in at the end of the war and closed the camps and those who helped in "small" ways during the war--but the blame heaped on the German people, a Fascist government, appeasing neighbors, governments unwilling to expand refugee quotas and individuals is apparent. And, I think, deserved.

It is easy to look back and say, "Why didn't the US do . . . ?" Insert just about anything you like into the elipse. It is probably a worthy question. But to the people of the time, the political questions were just as complicated as those bandied about daily by heads of state in regards to Kosovo, Rwanda, Darfur, Afghanistan, Kurdistan, Myanmar, North Korea and any other place where human rights are violated regularly and viciously. Germany's descent to the hellish nightmare it became in the 1930's and 1940's started with the suspension of basic rights for all Germans and the burning of books that allowed any room for dissent. Targeting homosexuals, the disabled, Jews, Blacks and other minority groups became easy once any voice of argument was strangled. I hope that history will not judge us as harshly as the groupthink rationale that allowed the Holocaust, but I have my doubts.

And, my fellow Latter-day Saints, lest we get too complacent about genocide, let's not forget how few generations our own people are from an extermination order. If there are any people who should reach out to those in desperate circumstances, it should be us. There are no easy answers here--the lessons of large scale intervention have their own history that is just as harsh as doing nothing.






















2) Last week I paid my first visit to the Library of Congress. The exhibit on Thomas Jefferson's library is amazing. As I looked at his books I was literally awestruck. I love the words of the Declaration, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain, inalienable rights . . . " I believe firmly that men and women are inspired to do and say great things, but I think that this inspiration is easier to give to the mind and spirit that has been prepared for it. The soul of Thomas Jefferson lives on in those books, though his spirit has long departed and the worms have eaten his body.























3) I didn't notice last time I was at the Lincoln Memorial the simple phrase "I have a dream" engraved in the center steps, in perfect alignment with Lincoln, Washington's monument and the Capitol Building. On that great August day in 1963, Dr. King challenged America to make good on Thomas Jefferson's "promissary note" found in the Declaration of Independence. We are so blessed to live in a country that, for all of its problems, at the very least was founded on the principle that all men are created equal. Lincoln was right--it is better for us to live together and compromise about our many issues than to fraction ourselves off every time we disagree. America is indeed the great democratic experiment: subject to testing and re-testing every generation or so. I feel like our time of testing is now. The Lord always promised that the righteous would be delivered to this land and then subject to the condition of remembrance: remembrance of forefathers, faith, God and true patriotism. Without remembrance, only pride in our own abilities is left. For all of our powerful belief in self-determination, make no mistake that divided we will fall.























4)As Eric graduated from GW, I was so impressed. He, and his wife, have worked so hard. I was struck as I watched those 130+ graduates of varying ages, colors, cultures and sexes walk across the stage that some of America's best and brightest were on display. This group, and other groups like them, will help determine the future of health care in this country. (Indeed, their visiting guest-speaker talked to this very issue, which my mother sniffed at as being way too political.) I feel in my bones that change is in the air. I haven't yet decided if that will be a good or a bad thing. I guess that depends entirely on how willing people are to be committed to principles instead of simply to policy.















5) My reading of choice on the trip was "The Fire of the Covenant." I learned I had an ancestor in the Martin Handcart company. It was a moving book to read in the middle of a city where it is impossible not to think about the sacrifices of so many who've gone before me. I think my late night reading was as profound as the day time sites.

Still, family is family and just being with my sibs for a few days was a great part of the journey too. My brother may be a doctor, but he is definitely not above wearing his doctoral hood as an actual hood and re-enacting the final scenes of Return of the Jedi. Or pretending to stand in a Depression Era unemployment line. We were also not above asking Daddy to pay when we ate at a fancy restaraunt after graduation. And what is a family outing on a blustery, sunny day if mom doesn't impersonate the unibomber at least once. Amanda and I worked it with the concierge to get a free movie in our room (on the premise that our stay was not all it could be because the hot tub was broken). National Treasure: Book of Secrets, of course. Amanda and I also rented 27 Dresses on the plane ride home. I think the guy sitting next to us was ready to kill the two of us. My older brother was so sick of my sister and I by day 6, that I'm sure he just went home and hugged his wife for 30 minutes straight.

And while we reverted back to our "typical" family roles for a few days, there is something really refreshing about being with the people who best know your quirks because they share a lot of them. Still, I was very glad to get back to the home I've actually chosen, grateful in every way for where I have come from and where I'm headed.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

One Year

I really need to get my camera hooked up so I can finish my DC post, but this post-trip week has been pretty crazy. I have exactly four minutes today to blog and I need to wish my Little G a happy birthday. He turned one yesterday. He is still so sweet I can hardly believe it. I appreciate more than I yet understand the lessons on faith from his birth and the months leading up to my pregnancy with him.
I hope to one day understand the full purpose behind why he chose to come to our family. But, for now, it is enough to know that he did. I am eternally blessed to be his mother.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Don't Tell My Brother, It Will Go To His Head

I have to take a few minutes this morning before the chaos starts to tell you about my fantastic "baby" brother. He is smart and funny and hard-working. Personality-wise, I've always meshed with him better than anyone in my family. Though seven years apart, I remember playing with him as a child more than anyone else. Or, more precisely, he was a child and I was a tweenie. He was always the clown and the center of attention. He is the youngest, and our family was busy by the time he was born. When he was in early elementary school, much of his read-aloud time was done by me. One of my favorite memories is being cuddled with him on his top bunk in the basement of my parents' old house bawling over the last chapters of "Where the Red Fern Grows." I'm also sure that the current owner of that house is still digging up "dead" GI Joe guys out of her flower beds.

Well, my little brother is graduating from GW Medical School on Sunday, and I couldn't be prouder of him. Four years ago, he and his brand new wife prepared to move to DC with much trepidation. Neither of them had really ever been away from home and they were overwhelmed by the cost of everything. My brother had been pretty bummed when he didn't get into the U of U, but they loaded their car and took off anyway.

As anyone who has moved away from family early in their marriage can attest to, their cross country adventure has turned out to be the best thing for them. They have made friends and valuable professional contacts. They have learned a lot about trusting and taking care of one another. They have learned they are stronger than they could have imagined.

One of the most exciting things is that my brother, who kind of scraped his way into medical school, has emerged as one of the top in his class with super high test scores, honors in every section of his rotationals, and a coveted residency at, yes, University of Utah. My family could not be prouder of him. But don't tell him, he can be a bit of a punk and we've got to keep him in his place.

My parents, my older brother, my younger sister and I are headed to DC tomorrow for the week. No spouses, no kids, just a brother-sister vacation for the first time in nearly 15 years. I'll post pictures when I get back.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

On Summertime Movies, of Which I Always See Too Many

Plantboy and I kind of have a standing rule about movies: if it will be just as meaningful on the small screen, for goodness sake, don't pay $8 apiece to see it when you can Redbox it for a dollar if you are a little bit patient. This is because (a) we are cheap and (b) date nights are limited. What it really means is that I haven't seen a chic flick (aka, movies with good acting, characterization, and getting acquainted before sleeping together) in the theatre since roughly, hmmmm, the Clinton administration.

In fairness to Plantboy, I DO like action-adventure movies, though I put my foot down to PG-13 comedies staring Jack Black or Adam Sandler. This is a fair trade-off, I think, for the allergic reaction he always fakes when I say "Jane Austen" or "Masterpiece Theatre" or even "period piece."

But we both have a deep and abiding love for movies based on comic books. Granted, some of these are better than others, and I haven't seen all of them. Since Tim Burton's Batman (4th of July weekend, the summer after 8th grade), the best of these have been X-Men I, Batman Begins and Spiderman II. The worst list has to include Daredevil, Catwoman, and Fantastic Four.

Yes, they are formulaic. Yes, they can be a little bit creepy. Yes, you have to suspend all belief for two or more hours to lose yourself in such film-making.

And, yes, I love them. There is nobody in this forum from my college days (pity), but I will admit that for several years I hung a poster of the Fox cartoon Batman on my wall. Holding out for my own hero I suppose. I guess we all need a little bit of guilty pleasure in our lives.















But last night, I think I may have just seen the best of the lot. Ironman is pretty much awesome.
And though everyone is saying it right now, Robert Downey Junior is really great in this role. He takes a bad rap because he was such a crackhead in the late 90's, but some of his earlier stuff is not bad. (His performance in Heart and Souls is particularly good.)

My friends and I were all pretty much in love with him in junior high/high school. He isn't such a hottie now--he's looks like he's been around the block a few too many times, and he has those same fakey white veneers that every Hollywood star pays way too much money for, but this movie is just great.



Except for one thing. He never kisses Pepper Potts. Which is just lame. Who can resist the intelligent, red-headed, freckly Gwenyth? Or does she resist him? Either way, huge mistake.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Epicurus Would Be So Proud

Last weekend turned out wonderful. We didn't go anywhere special or do anything spectacular--but it was a weekend of culinary and sensory delights. I felt light-hearted and rested Monday morning. It isn't often that I feel so, because I'm usually completely stressed and under-accomplished and thinking, "Here we go again."

My weekend cooking has gotten more elaborate as of late. The reason is that we are in a dinner group with four other families. (I can't believe I haven't blogged about this yet! This topic could probably be a blog all on its own.) I cook on Fridays and deliver food to everyone in the group. I don't, however, cook on Mondays-Thursday. This works out well with all that I've got going on in late afternoons and early evenings. Because I'm not cooking as often, I find that my weekend meal ideas are not as boring and we try a lot more new things. It has also made the kids a lot less picky, because they have to pretty much eat whatever shows up.

So here is my weekend, complete with recipes:

Friday we went to dinner with Drs. Jamin and Tabula Rasa. We ate at P.F. Chang's. I've only been there one other time and wasn't really impressed. I think it is because I was in my first trimester of pregnancy #3 and was sick often. Asian food never sits well with me during pregnancy. Anyway, our family style dinner on Friday was wonderful--Mongolian beef, noodles, lettuce wraps, citrus chicken, spicy green beans--everything was very good. I am sure that we will go back. I'm inspired now to try and recreate their lettuce wraps. I've done this before, but I don't think I've got it quite right. I'm going to keep messing around. Plantboy was just happy that they had rice. Which "shortage" he says, by the way, cannot be a real thing. In the US we grow a lot of rice and don't import it. The only way there is a rice shortage in the US is if more of the product is being sold overseas because of the ridiculously high profit margin right now.


Saturday night, the missionaries came over. I think I've fed these two nice boys six or seven times in the last two months. We seem to be having a problem getting people to sign up lately. This. Is. So. Not. Cool. Not the feeding them thing, so much as the people not agreeing to feed them thing. Don't get me started. Anyway we had a hamburger buffet that rivaled Red Robin for its options. (See my last post for the hamburger concoction that is pretty much my new favorite.) Here is the chimichurri recipe as promised:

First of all, chimichurri is bascially a pesto with less oil. Chimichurri is an herby kind of meat rub or condiment, pesto is more of a sauce used for pasta and often contains nuts and cheese along with the herb, usually basil. My chimichurri is kind of a marriage of these two:

Mince 1 whole bunch of cilantro. Mix well (do NOT process, it is better with texture) with 2 tablespoons olive oil, a teaspoon of red pepper flakes, 2 tablespoons finely chopped pine nuts, 2 tablespoons diced red pepper, 1 tablespoon each of parmesan cheese and red onion, and 1 teaspoon of basalmic vinegar. (For a slightly different flavor, leave out the flakes, cheese, red pepper and vinegar and put in a tablespoon of lime or lemon juice.) Add black pepper, salt and garlic powder to taste. Pestos typically use fresh garlic--I do not. I think uncooked garlic overpowers everything else and takes away from the herb flavor. If you love garlic, however, do what you want. At least you'll be safe from vampires.


The lettuce on our hamburgers was this gorgeous stuff from Plantboy's garden. If each of you lived closer I'd bring you over a big bag of this delightful, organic spring mix. I have no idea what we are going to do with it all. We cut it back and eat it, but it just keeps coming. I've signed up to do LOTS of salads with dinner group over the next few weeks. I love the look on my hubby's face as he eats produce that he grew. It is going to be a good summer for vegetables. Oh, and there is Swiss chard a-plenty if anyone is
interested. I wilted some down into some wheat


penne with the leftover chimichurri and it was really delicious. It tastes a little spinachy and it slightly bitter. No wonder everyone keeps telling me to serve it with salt, pepper and heaps of butter. (Heaps of butter, hah! That is such an Aussie expression. That is how everyone in Australia told me they were able to eat vegemite sandwiches . . . )





On Saturday we put in a few more garden items--tomatoes and a variety of herbs. I didn't ever report on my indoor herb garden I put in last fall because it didn't last. Our house is too dark, particularly in the winter, for anything but the housiest of house plants. Still, Plantboy reserved a beautiful spot as close as possible to the kitchen for my herbs. We also pulled out some nasty ivy and tilled up a large spot for my squash that Plantboy has finally agreed to. I guess he is afraid that if I grow squash and zucchini then I am going to make him eat it. The answer to that is--of course I will.
















I also noticed that our lilacs are in bloom, which pretty much means that all is right with the universe. I once wrote a really mediocre poem called "Memories of May" that was mostly about a series of tender recollections evoked by the smell of these purple gifts straight from Heaven. They make lousy cut flowers and can really only be fully appreciated when they are in their natural habitat. Lilacs, for me, are a symbol that spring has really come and that, perhaps more importantly, that my birthday is imminent. I'm grateful that it is a Leap Year because I dodged the Mother's Day/birthday holiday bullet. It was great when I was a kid--a special day for just me and mom--but as an adult, the proximity has been a real kick in the pants. Six years ago these happy events coincided and, well, lets just say that Plantboy and I had to have a long talk about special days and the nature of gift-giving.


Sunday we broke our fast with an amazing salad like something from Chipotle or Mucho Gusto or Cafe Rio. On top of the baby greens, we put sweet pulled pork, black beans, cilantro-lime rice, corn salsa, avocado, creamy cilantro-lime dressing, chips, cheese and salsa. (Scroll down to the bottom for recipes.) Oh, and Jell-O. Hey, the kids had to eat too.


Sunday night after putting the kids to bed, I read to Plantboy while we lay in his double-wide hammock that he bought in Brazil as a missionary to give to his wife someday (which he did the night before we got married along with a copy of the Complete Works of Jane Austen). The funny sounds of karoke drifted over the fence from our Asian neighbor's party (really) and there was a pleasant scent of lilacs wafting over us. We read the last part of The Work and the Glory: Praise to the Man. Even mediocre writing shines when the subject matter is so profound. As we rocked in that luscious hammock, even the difficult events of Joseph Smith's martyrdom seemed like a part of the joy in the life I have.


It is true that American soldiers have insured our Constitutional rights and and bodily freedom, but I owe all the true beauty and goodness in my life to the courage of Joseph Smith. Other Christian religions leave far too many gaps for me to have ever come to Christ in some other way than by the religion Jospeh was directed to start. Mormonism appeals to my sense of logic, fair-play and intellect as much as to my spiritual yearning to be saved. When Joseph looked back across the river, at the intersection between freedom in the Rocky Mountains or turning back to face his accusers, he said, "If my life means so little to my friends, then I guess it means very little to me." Could there be anything more heartbreaking? What if Joseph had gone west instead that night? Did the Church survive in spite of his martyrdom, or BECAUSE of it?

In the book Prince Caspian, Lucy hesitates a long time before following Aslan, though she knows she has seen him when no one else has. When she finally follows him, she says (paraphrased), "What was I supposed to do? Leave the others?" One look from Aslan tells her that this was exactly what he had in mind. She despairs and asks him if her leaving a day or two earlier might have made a difference in the outcome of the battle. Aslan shakes his great, wise mane and tells her that we can never know what might have been. Only what will be. That is a powerful lesson. We cannot know what might have happened if Joseph lived, but we can write our own future as faithful members of the Church, never forgetting the many sacrifices that were made to make our lives possible. So, while it was a weekend of much pleasure, I did have some thoughts that gave pause to the pleasure to reflect on actual happiness.

But perhaps the most fabulous part of the weekend was that we ate on this!



(Now, read this next part in your best Bob Barker voice.) Thats right! A new dining room table. This six-chair, expandable leaf table has a beautiful light oak finished top with inlaid, laminate wood work. The contrasting wood is creamy white with a slightly antiqued finish.

If it was really the Price is Right, I would next be telling you about the matching hutch, but that will take a few more months of delivering papers. The leaf really expands it out, but I've only got the six chairs. Besides, it is already so big for the space that increasing its length would mean moving the couch. So, who is coming for dinner?

The last photo is just Scallywag with his spiky hair. I've got to take a lot of pictures of him over the next few weeks because he has THREE loose teeth. He lost two on the bottom last fall, but two of these three are the top two in the middle. My little boy is soon going to look like a big boy and there are parts of me that want to hang on as long as possible to this:

















Recipes

Sweet Pork
The roast I bought was called a pork sirloin roast, so it was fairly lean with a good combination of dark and light meat. It was also HUGE, but only like 1.80 a pound or something. I put it in my crockpot with half a jar of tomatillo salsa and 1/2 cup of brown sugar. Set it to low for 8 hours. It will then shred easily. Warm the rest of the salsa with 1/4 cup of brown sugar and pour it down over the shredded pork. This will make a ton of meat. I fed 20 people with it.

Cilantro-Lime Rice
You need 2 1/2 parts rice (something long grain or even a little bit fancy like basmati or jasmine rice), 2 parts water, 2 parts chicken broth and 1 part lime juice for this. Saute rice in butter until it clears a little bit. Add chicken broth, water and lime juice. When the rice is cooked through, fold in chopped cilantro (to taste: I added a whole bunch to it) and salt and pepper.

Corn Salsa
This is really Plantboy's baby, so I'll just tell you what he puts in it and then you'll just have to modify everything to your taste: frozen, rinsed and drained super sweet white corn. Let it sit until kernels easily separate and warm up slightly before mixing other ingredients into it. This "recipe" bases itself on a whole bag of corn. Layer everything in the bowl and just stir a little bit at the end, you don't want to overmix. 1/2 bunch diced cilantro, 1/4 cup diced red peper, 1/4 cup diced purple onion, 1 green onion, 1/2 tsp tabasco sauce, 2 tsp vinegar, 1/2 fresh jalenpeno, no seeds (this is for the spicy option, eliminate tabasco if you do this), and 1 medium firm tomato, diced.

Thursday, May 01, 2008

The Bread I Knew in the Pre-Existence

I have long looked for a whole wheat bread recipe that is delicious, healthy, but mostly SOFT. We eat a lot of bread around here and it is getting really pricey. I've also wanted one that can be made entirely from food storage. So that, in a pinch, I can always make bread. Well, this is THE ONE. I think this bread tastes just like the honey whole wheat bread you can buy at Old Gristmill where it costs around $3.50 a loaf. If I was grinding my own wheat for this recipe (the wheat-grinder investment is one I haven't made yet), this would probably cost around a dollar a loaf, and my Kitchen-Aid does most of the work. I just have to make sure that I'm home for at least half the day on bread day. The picture is just one I grabbed from the Internet; this bread is actually slightly darker (especially with honey) and denser:

3 cups warm water (if you use your mixer, remember that your metal bowl will be VERY cold, so the water should be quite warm.)
2 Tablespoons yeast
1/3 cup honey OR sugar (I've used both as well as a combo. The honey flavor is incredible, but it is more expensive that way.)

Once you are sure your yeast is working (5 minutes or so) add 5 cups of whole wheat flour. Mix well and let it rise for about 30 minutes. This is called a sponge.

Add:
3 Tablespoons oil or melted butter
1/3 cup honey OR sugar
1 tsp salt
4-5 Tablespoons vital wheat gluten (also called wheat gluten flour or a dough conditioner. DON'T skip this ingredient. It will change your life when cooking with whole wheat. It also adds a bunch of protein in your bread.)

Gradually Add:
2-3 cups more flour (white or wheat) until the dough firms up.

Knead until smooth and firm (I let my KitchenAid do this too. Two words: dough hook). Let rise until double. Punch, divide (two huge or three mediumish), form and let rise until double (another 30 minutes) Bake at 350 degrees for 24 minutes for medium, 30 minutes for huge.

If anybody is interested in the spicy cilantro chimichurri I made for the steaks last weekend, let me know. (If you haven't discovered this new favorite condiment yet, let's just call it the discerning person's answer to steak sauce.) This weekend I am going to put it on hamburgers with a big slab of roasted red pepper, a whole wheat bun, mixed greens from our garden and imported white Australian cheddar. I think I'll do sweet potato fries on the side. I keep telling Plantboy that he is a food snob, but lately I've started to think that it might be me.
Enjoy!