Monday, April 25, 2011
Uncage.
i'm finding it difficult to type a long post today as carpal tunnel has rendered my left hand useless, so, i'm cheating a bit and just posting some U related art to minimize how much i need to type.
T is for Taj.
As in Taj Mahal, the musician. He's been one of my very favorite musicians for a long time. My dad has been a fan for 40+ years, and i can remember him playing his albums, as in records, when i was very young. His music weaves its way through most of my days. i've seen him live 3 or 4 times now, and am hoping to be able to again this summer. His live shows are consistently good. Aside from his music, his good looks and deep voice make me melt, oh my... Here are some of my favorite songs of his.
S is for salad.
i love salad, be it of leafy greens, veggies, pasta or fruit. Lately i've been on this antipasto salad kick - romaine or iceberg lettuce, salami, ham, provolone, parmesan and pickled vegetables (carrots, caulifower, celery...), tossed with my basic vinaigrette. One of the most refreshing salads i know of is my great grandmother's very basic recipe. It's iceberg lettuce, olive oil, red wine vinegar and salt. That's it. So very simple, yet delicious with a loaf of crusty Italian bread and some chicken cutlets. My mom gets a bite of salad and a bite of chicken on the same fork, and i now follow suit. Sometimes the simplest of foods can be the most delicious.
i thought i'd share two recipes today. The first is not my family's; it comes from a place called Mazza's Restaurant and Lounge in Mount Vernon, OH. My aunt worked there years ago and shared the recipe with us. We've been hooked ever since. The second is prefered mostly by my mom and i. If i'm remembering correctly, my Italian-born great grandfather made this salad, or possibly one of my great uncles. Regardless, it's been passed down.
Mazza's Salad
Serves 2, 3...depends on how hungry you are and what else you're having
1/2 head iceberg lettuce, ripped or chopped into bite-size pieces
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced (more or less to taste, though too much overpowers)
extra virgin olive oil
red wine vinegar
feta, blue or gorgonzola cheese, crumbled, to taste (we prefer feta, i think original recipe uses one of the latter two)
salt
Mince the garlic and place into the olive oil. How much olive oil? i dunno'. i eyeball it. Maybe 1/3 cup? Maybe a little more? Let the garlic and oil sit for 20-30 minutes. Place the lettuce in a big bowl and add the cheese. Pour the oil and garlic over the lettuce and drizzle with red wine vinegar. No, i don't know how much. i just taste and add as necessary (i don't think i should ever write a cookbook...). Sprinkle with salt to taste. Make sure to have some crusty bread on hand to sop up the dressing. Warning: do not plan on much kissing action after eating this, unless both parties partake.
Italian Orange Salad
Serves 1 (because that's the only way i ever make it)
1-2 oranges, separated into segments
1 clove garlic, minced
extra virgin olive oil
oregano
salt
Place the orange segments and garlic in a bowl. Sprinkle with oregano and salt and then drizzle with olive oil. Not much, maybe just a couple tablespoons. Toss and enjoy. This salad is one of those things that sounds like an odd pairing, but for some reason just works.
i thought i'd share two recipes today. The first is not my family's; it comes from a place called Mazza's Restaurant and Lounge in Mount Vernon, OH. My aunt worked there years ago and shared the recipe with us. We've been hooked ever since. The second is prefered mostly by my mom and i. If i'm remembering correctly, my Italian-born great grandfather made this salad, or possibly one of my great uncles. Regardless, it's been passed down.
Mazza's Salad
Serves 2, 3...depends on how hungry you are and what else you're having
1/2 head iceberg lettuce, ripped or chopped into bite-size pieces
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced (more or less to taste, though too much overpowers)
extra virgin olive oil
red wine vinegar
feta, blue or gorgonzola cheese, crumbled, to taste (we prefer feta, i think original recipe uses one of the latter two)
salt
Mince the garlic and place into the olive oil. How much olive oil? i dunno'. i eyeball it. Maybe 1/3 cup? Maybe a little more? Let the garlic and oil sit for 20-30 minutes. Place the lettuce in a big bowl and add the cheese. Pour the oil and garlic over the lettuce and drizzle with red wine vinegar. No, i don't know how much. i just taste and add as necessary (i don't think i should ever write a cookbook...). Sprinkle with salt to taste. Make sure to have some crusty bread on hand to sop up the dressing. Warning: do not plan on much kissing action after eating this, unless both parties partake.
Italian Orange Salad
Serves 1 (because that's the only way i ever make it)
1-2 oranges, separated into segments
1 clove garlic, minced
extra virgin olive oil
oregano
salt
Place the orange segments and garlic in a bowl. Sprinkle with oregano and salt and then drizzle with olive oil. Not much, maybe just a couple tablespoons. Toss and enjoy. This salad is one of those things that sounds like an odd pairing, but for some reason just works.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
R is for rain, and ramps.
Catching up on the A-Z Blogging Challenge, again.
i love rain, except when i'm forced to drive in a downpour, otherwise, bring it on! i love the sound of it on the roof, the smell, the vibrant green after a summer storm... i always find it amusing that even though i devote many hours to art and don't think much of it, on a rainy day i feel like i'm given a free pass to stay inside and create, or maybe curl up with a book and a cup of coffee and let the hours pass by. i harbor no guilt at all for a rainy day spent inside. What's up with that? i shouldn't even be feeling guilt over making art in the first place, but i am human, and also very hard on myself.
Come spring and the rain it brings, one can find a certain little treasure in the forests of the eastern United States, and up into Canada - ramps. Ramps are like a wild leek, but they taste, and smell, like a combination of garlic and onions. They are delicious, but an avid fan will warn you about the smell your kitchen (read "entire house") and yourself will acquire after preparing and eating. My mom always relates the story of my dad eating his fair share of ramps while in season, and how she would make him sleep on the couch for days after. (i wonder if that played a part in their divorce, haha...) Every year, my dad brings me a decent bunch that he's foraged that i add to cooking or freeze to use later when the season has passed. My family eats the meals i prepare using ramps, but they are not big fans of the smell that lingers. My son is, in fact, completely put out by the smell and will vocalize his displeasure over and over.
If you can get ahold of ramps in your area, either by gathering yourself or buying at a market (if you're lucky enough to have a local one carrying them), i encourage you to try them if you haven't yet. Their taste is definitely worth their lasting odor, believe me.
i love rain, except when i'm forced to drive in a downpour, otherwise, bring it on! i love the sound of it on the roof, the smell, the vibrant green after a summer storm... i always find it amusing that even though i devote many hours to art and don't think much of it, on a rainy day i feel like i'm given a free pass to stay inside and create, or maybe curl up with a book and a cup of coffee and let the hours pass by. i harbor no guilt at all for a rainy day spent inside. What's up with that? i shouldn't even be feeling guilt over making art in the first place, but i am human, and also very hard on myself.
Come spring and the rain it brings, one can find a certain little treasure in the forests of the eastern United States, and up into Canada - ramps. Ramps are like a wild leek, but they taste, and smell, like a combination of garlic and onions. They are delicious, but an avid fan will warn you about the smell your kitchen (read "entire house") and yourself will acquire after preparing and eating. My mom always relates the story of my dad eating his fair share of ramps while in season, and how she would make him sleep on the couch for days after. (i wonder if that played a part in their divorce, haha...) Every year, my dad brings me a decent bunch that he's foraged that i add to cooking or freeze to use later when the season has passed. My family eats the meals i prepare using ramps, but they are not big fans of the smell that lingers. My son is, in fact, completely put out by the smell and will vocalize his displeasure over and over.
If you can get ahold of ramps in your area, either by gathering yourself or buying at a market (if you're lucky enough to have a local one carrying them), i encourage you to try them if you haven't yet. Their taste is definitely worth their lasting odor, believe me.
Q.
Back early from my blog vacation and playing catch up with the A-Z Blogging Challenge.
Q is for quiet, the deepest and most perfect of quiet, as found in the far off pockets of this planet, in the middle of nowheres, where streets, buildings and humans are few or none. i've discovered that breathtakingly beautiful quiet in many places, but the standout was on an empty moutain road in Alaska on the night of a full moon many years ago. Everything was white with snow, save a sky so clear it was as if the black were its own kind of light. Stepping out of our vehicle and into that cold, pristine hush...words cannot truly contain a feeling like that.
There wasn't fear or trepidation in that silence, though it was humbling. Instead, it was ripe to bursting with promise, hope, beauty, breath, life. That silence contained everything, and nothing, and it was absolute perfection. That kind of silence, free of the constant hum of cities and vehicles and televisions and cell phones and airplanes and chatter is hard to find, but it's there if you seek it out. For many of us, quiet like that can feel very far away.
But what if we pulled the memory of that quiet, and the perfect innocent stillness it contained and applied that hope and promise within to this very moment? Like a grounding exercise, a way to bring us back to the present, the here and now, this moment, which is really all we ever have... Just a thought.
Q is for quiet, the deepest and most perfect of quiet, as found in the far off pockets of this planet, in the middle of nowheres, where streets, buildings and humans are few or none. i've discovered that breathtakingly beautiful quiet in many places, but the standout was on an empty moutain road in Alaska on the night of a full moon many years ago. Everything was white with snow, save a sky so clear it was as if the black were its own kind of light. Stepping out of our vehicle and into that cold, pristine hush...words cannot truly contain a feeling like that.
There wasn't fear or trepidation in that silence, though it was humbling. Instead, it was ripe to bursting with promise, hope, beauty, breath, life. That silence contained everything, and nothing, and it was absolute perfection. That kind of silence, free of the constant hum of cities and vehicles and televisions and cell phones and airplanes and chatter is hard to find, but it's there if you seek it out. For many of us, quiet like that can feel very far away.
But what if we pulled the memory of that quiet, and the perfect innocent stillness it contained and applied that hope and promise within to this very moment? Like a grounding exercise, a way to bring us back to the present, the here and now, this moment, which is really all we ever have... Just a thought.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Blog vacation...
i'm currently in the midst of a little getaway, and finding the time to post has been difficult. So, it looks like i may be on a short hiatus until Monday, April 25th. Thanks to my readers and followers, and i'll see you on Monday!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
P is for purpose, procrastination and power.
Well, i guess O was for a day "off", and also for "on the road again". i had a busy day of packing and traveling yesterday and just couldn't squeeze in a blog post. And yes, today's post is late. Eh, such is life.
So, P. P is for purpose. i'm still fumbling through this life, trying to find what i believe, so i can't say with certainty that i necessarily believe we all were born for a purpose, or if it's all just random chaos. Really, for me, it almost doesn't matter. Either way, i'm not about to sit by and do nothing, so i seek out what i can contribute to not only my own life, but also the lives of those i love. i need a goal, a purpose, a project every day, or i'll go crazy. i need purpose, whether that means making art or cooking dinner, or, in looking at the bigger picture, someday teaching art workshops or writing a book. Purpose helps me take that next step. With a goal or deadline in sight, i do my best work. And as far as my greater purpose, some notion of why i was born (random chaos?), i just hope that i make better the lives of those around me, and that i'll be remembered as a kind and true friend, a loving and thoughtful mate and most importantly, a good mom.
Once i realize my purpose, or set a goal, there comes procrastination. Oh, my old friend procrast. Always there, keeping me lulled until the 11th hour when i then meet up with my old friend frenzy and make a mad rush to reach the finish line. i'm really adept at putting things off. As much as i love working on projects, i somehow manage to hem and haw my way there, doing "research" or reading up on new techniques before diving into the actual project itself. i have no idea why i do this; it doesn't make sense. But i'm working on it, sort of. i might work on it tomorrow, or this weekend...
Ok, so i have purpose, i'm working on the procrastination issue, so that means the next step is taking back my power. We give our power away all the time, every day, to each other, to the government, to society's expectations... Hell, sometimes we just refuse to claim it in the first place. i'm not talking about having power over others, i'm talking about the power and energy inside us all, the courage and determination and strength that makes up that part of us that keeps us strong. Claim your power, and try your best, hard as it is, to not give it away. And always use your power for good, that's important.
So, P. P is for purpose. i'm still fumbling through this life, trying to find what i believe, so i can't say with certainty that i necessarily believe we all were born for a purpose, or if it's all just random chaos. Really, for me, it almost doesn't matter. Either way, i'm not about to sit by and do nothing, so i seek out what i can contribute to not only my own life, but also the lives of those i love. i need a goal, a purpose, a project every day, or i'll go crazy. i need purpose, whether that means making art or cooking dinner, or, in looking at the bigger picture, someday teaching art workshops or writing a book. Purpose helps me take that next step. With a goal or deadline in sight, i do my best work. And as far as my greater purpose, some notion of why i was born (random chaos?), i just hope that i make better the lives of those around me, and that i'll be remembered as a kind and true friend, a loving and thoughtful mate and most importantly, a good mom.
Once i realize my purpose, or set a goal, there comes procrastination. Oh, my old friend procrast. Always there, keeping me lulled until the 11th hour when i then meet up with my old friend frenzy and make a mad rush to reach the finish line. i'm really adept at putting things off. As much as i love working on projects, i somehow manage to hem and haw my way there, doing "research" or reading up on new techniques before diving into the actual project itself. i have no idea why i do this; it doesn't make sense. But i'm working on it, sort of. i might work on it tomorrow, or this weekend...
Ok, so i have purpose, i'm working on the procrastination issue, so that means the next step is taking back my power. We give our power away all the time, every day, to each other, to the government, to society's expectations... Hell, sometimes we just refuse to claim it in the first place. i'm not talking about having power over others, i'm talking about the power and energy inside us all, the courage and determination and strength that makes up that part of us that keeps us strong. Claim your power, and try your best, hard as it is, to not give it away. And always use your power for good, that's important.
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