Katie Curtis

By The Numbers

23 May, 2015/4 Comments/in Uncategorized/by Katie

We are going to a friend’s 40th Birthday party tonight, and my husband and I have our’s right around the corner.

I’ve been reading some good writers who are *cough* turning 30. It got me thinking a lot about the last 10 years, mainly because I can barely remember them. Didn’t I just get married? Didn’t I just turn 30 a few months ago?

So I decided to list a few things I learned in the last 10 years, just to help me shake off some of the child-rearing amnesia.

1) You will under appreciate how good you look right now. The thing that really stings is how good 30 looks, which you don’t appreciate because you’re too busy worrying about losing 10 pounds. When you’re 40 you realize you have 20 pounds to lose and a waning metabolism. Just my wrinkle-free skin alone makes me want to sit my younger self down and say, honey, have some gratitude. Youth was most definitely wasted on the younger me.

2) But, you really do grow comfortable in your skin. The cliche is true. As you creep towards 40, you really do care so much less about what other people think, and you know yourself so much better. You can actually look back and laugh at what gave you anxiety at 30. And 35. And 37, because in my experience you finally start to stop caring right around then because it gets too annoying.

3) You will still care about cellulite. That never goes away – both the feeling bad about it part and the actual cellulite.

4) Don’t let numbers define you. It’s not the whole story. What your scale says, or your bank account, or the number of likes or followers or emails today – it is all too easy to get consumed by them. But you’ll be miserable if you do. And it is the lie of omissions, since letting a number define you leaves out your spirit.

If you’re a parent, you’ll stop doing this in your 30s because you see the gorgeousness in your own kids’ spirits. And you figure out that we all have that inside of us. As a little thought experiment, imagine for a moment if we defined kids with numbers. How much they weigh, what their test scores are, how many friends are coming to their birthday party, what size they wear, what grade they should be, how many cavities they have, what their IQ level is. Spirit crushing horror is what that would be. But we do it to ourselves all the time as we are growing up. So try not to do this.

5) Invest in really good bras, really good books, and really good friends. No matter what life throws at you, these will be your main source of support, so your gonna want to make them strong.

6) When you feel bad, make a list of what you are grateful for. Gratitude is a depression buster every time. Also, clean your room. You’ll feel better. Better yet, spring for a housecleaner. They will instill a gratitude in you so deep you will won’t be able to live without them.

7) Make peace. With your self, with others, with life. Then you can direct your energies towards the really good stuff instead of letting anger and resentment fill you up. If they are, see #6.

8) Never eat gas station food. Unless you are in Spain, where they have delicious rustic homemade gas station food.

9) If they don’t love you, you can’t make them. Cue Bonnie Rait on repeat until you feel this in your bones.

10) When in doubt, take a walk/run outside. It is life’s reset button.

11) When you are overwhelmed, take 10 minutes to yourself. Just 10. Not 8, or 5. 10. The gift of time is the greatest gift you can possibly give yourself. And I don’t mean checking email and folding laundry. Just lay down with the thoughts in your head and nothing else.

12) Lose Yourself as often as possible. In art, in cooking, in gardening, in running or tennis or golf, in crosswords. The more you can drown out that record of mental chatter that plays endlessly, the better your spirit will be.

13) This too shall pass. The darkest grief, the deepest hurt. They will all lessen with time. Every single day is new, a clean slate. The Lord’s mercies are not exhausted, ever.

14) Invest in one good dress. And heels, and lipstick.

15) Call your mother.*

*This one is totally self-serving. I always call my mom but just wanted to remind my kids.

Pork Loin with Apples & Onions + Maple Roasted Veggies

21 May, 2015/in humbleonion/by Katie

This post has such an easy and delicious dinner that I am going to share a few behind the scenes things with you as well.

First, I just want to thank all of you who visit this corner of the Internet. This little blog keeps growing steadily and surely and I have some new collaborations coming this year that I am really excited to share with you. I am also planning to bring back a lot of new ideas when we visit France next month, so stay tuned. French cooking is my first love – here is one of the earliest posts I wrote about my dream to be a French farmer. So strap on your seat belts.

I know there are a lot of blogs out there (feel free to visit here, here, and here for amazing food blogs that inspire me) but thankfully I have remained aware of the fact that I am not a trained chef, just a passionate self-taught foodie, and my husband did not quit his job to help out with the blog. I got into this gig because I love writing and food. I love the narrative behind food and the stories it creates. I have learned however that in the blogging world, the photos are even more important. And I am trying to grow my photog skills. I love coming up with new recipes and sharing a love of simple, rustic, seasonal food. And since I have a freakishly strong level of enthusiasm, it helps me to not compare myself to other blogs, especially chefs and husband wife teams.

Also, many of you know that I am trying to get a novel published, and this is honestly a longer road then I thought it would be but I am still very zen. I am in a busy phase of life at the moment, and blogging here and on my writing website fit better into the small time windows I have, but I am still looking forward to starting my next big writing project (hello, preschool for Andrew). I have thought about letting this food blog go in order to do that but I am really just too happy sharing these recipes (and creating an archive that I use all the time! and dreaming about a cookbook one day!) that I want to continue at my once a week pace.

Finally, I have been posting dishes on Instagram that aren’t quite worth a whole blog post but might still be a great quick meal idea or inspiration for you. If you don’t follow me on Instagram already, or if you don’t even have a Instagram account, here is a nudge to set one up. (See: my pasta dish for busy nights, sautéed dandelion greens in garlic and olive oil which were heaven, my favorite freezer meal: calzones). Instagram can be an anxiety producing space for some people because pics can make peoples lives look perfect. I view it like Pinterest (you can follow me there too!) and use it just for inspiration.

Ok, onto the food:

We had our first alfresco meal of the season last night, and it was so great to be outside for a family meal. Please note the giant tub of noodles in front of my picky eater. A lot of readers ask do your kids eat what you make? And that side of pasta is the answer. But they are mostly really good eaters and are very appreciative of good food. My daughter Sophie (on the right) just told me after taking a few bites of something I made, “mmm, this is really good. You know mom, you could be a lunch lady.” So I got that going for me.

^^Don’t your kids come to the table in a Frozen robe?

This dinner was so magical being outside and the kids really did love the food. I’ve made this pork with apples recipe before, because I figured they would eat it since it has apples, and it has become a family favorite. I found it on another food blog and the video just makes it look so simple, I have to share it with you. They make it with tenderloin in the video but this time I made it with pork loin and it was just as good.

One thing I learned making it this time is that there is a strip of tough, shiny membrane on both tenderloin and pork loin that you want to cut off before cooking. It makes the end result more tender and moist.

I made Gwenyth Paltrow’s yummy roasted veggies on the side. You cut up sweet potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and I also add Brussel sprouts because, yum, and I think they make the dish look pretty. Then you mix 3 T. each olive oil, dijon mustard, and maple syrup, and pour it on the veggies, then roast at 425 for 20 minutes. I love the leftovers on salad all week.

This dinner was so fast, healthy and delicious (my trifecta for a good dinner) and it fed our hearts and tummys.

The beer didn’t hurt either.

Easy Roasted Pork Loin with Apples and Onions (for printer version, print here) :

Ingredients:

2 (1- to 1-1/2-pound) pork tenderloins (I used pork loin, just add to the cooking time
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, plus more as needed
1 1/2 teaspoons salt, plus more as needed
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 apples, cored and sliced (We use Granny Smith, Golden Delicious or
Braeburn)
2 onions, sliced
1 cup chicken stock
1 tablespoon butter

Directions:

Heat oven to 425 degrees F (220 degrees C).
Trim each tenderloin of any silver skin (this can be tough when cooked, just use a small sharp knife and slide the blade under and outward to remove it). Pat pork dry with paper towels.
Then, using your hands, rub the tenderloins all over with 1 tablespoon of the oil, sprinkle with 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt, and rub until both tenderloins are evenly coated.
Heat a tablespoon of oil in a large cast iron skillet or heavy-bottomed oven-safe frying pan over medium heat. You will know when the pan is ready when the oil shimmers.
Add the pork tenderloins and cook, turning occasionally, until evenly browned all over. This should take about 12 minutes.Transfer the browned pork to a large plate or cutting board.
Check the pan, if it looks dry add 2 to 3 teaspoons of additional oil. (If there is fat left in the pan from cooking the pork, there is no need to add additional oil). Now, add apples and onions then cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned around edges, about 5 minutes.
While the apples and onions cook, use a pastry brush (or use your hands) to rub the pork all over with the mustard, sprinkle it with 2 teaspoons of the thyme and black pepper, and rub until it’s evenly coated.
Add the remaining teaspoon of thyme to the apples and onions, stir. Then, place pork tenderloins on top of apples and onions and slide into the oven. Roast 10 to 15 minutes (20-25 for pork loin) or until an internal thermometer inserted into the thickest part registers between 145 and 150 degrees F (63 and 65 degrees C).
Transfer pork to a large plate and cover with aluminum foil. Let rest about 10 minutes.
While the pork rests, place the pan with apples and onions back onto the stove and turn heat to medium. Add chicken stock and use a wooden spoon to scrape the pan, lifting any brown bits from the bottom. Bring to a simmer and cook until reduced by half. Add butter and stir until melted.
Slice pork into 1-inch slices then serve on a bed of the apples and onions with pan sauce drizzled on top.

From The Inspired Taste website.

Maple Dijon Roasted Root Vegetables (printer version here):

Ingredients:

3 tablespoons maple syrup
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1⁄2teaspoon coarse salt
1⁄2teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
1 large sweet potato, peeled and cut into 3-inch sticks about 1/2 inch thick
4 parsnips , peeled and cut into 3-inch sticks about 1/2 inch thick
4 carrots , peeled and cut into 3-inch sticks about 1/2 inch thick
I cut back on 1 parsnip and 1 carrot and add 2 cups of Brussel Sprouts

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
Mix together the syrup, mustard, oil, salt, and pepper. Toss together with vegetables on a large baking sheet. Roast, stirring occasionally, until browned and cooked through, about 25 minutes.

From Gwyneth Paltrow’s My Father’s Daughter cookbook.

Love is Being Inconvenienced

16 May, 2015/2 Comments/in Uncategorized/by Katie

^^My husband inconveniences all of us to get out into nature. We are better for it, and he is definitely the most inconvenienced.

It is 2:30 in the morning. My oldest daughter is at the side of my bed, and her nose is bleeding. My husband has been traveling for two days, and I went to bed late because I couldn’t sleep. But I get up, and help her back to bed with tissues.

Our youngest is five months old. We take a trip to Cape Cod to visit my husband’s best friend. On our way there, my husband throws his back out. They feed our kids and handled life while I nurse our baby and my husband nurses his back. I don’t even get to do the dishes.

My neighbor, Rose, has an aneurysm at the gym. The kind that are often fatal. While she is recuperating, her best friend and neighbor sends out daily updates and organizes a dinner meal chart so her family was covered. Rose battled through rehab and therapy, and now walks her dog and teaches yoga again.

My stoic father-in-law comes down every spring and plants us a garden. Even though he lives two hours away, has Parkinson’s and shows up everytime my kids have so much as a recital saying, ‘that’s my job’.

My mother and mother-in-law bring at least two dishes to every gathering.

Some people show up. Some people are just there. And the people they help remember. For a long, long time.

I recently discovered the writer Ann Voskamp (who I think most people discovered a million years ago – behind the times is my middle name). The post I read has just stayed with me.

A lot.

“You love as well as you are willing to be inconvenienced,” she wrote. She was referring to her friend who had just passed away from cancer, and how she demonstrated her own willingness to be inconvenienced in her life.

This truth challenged me. As a mother of young kids with a lot of demands on my time and money and emotions, it is sometimes so easy to think that just the daily toil is all I can handle. It is so easy to play victim in my head when anything is asked of me – “I’m spent, let someone else do it.” I am all for self-care and boundaries, and there are certainly times in life – having a newborn comes to mind – where things have to slack for you to focus on your tribe, to circle your wagons. And I am for mothers making sure they take care of themselves but I also know that motherhood can bring out a little bit of the OCD in the best of us. We think that this late night for a family gathering or that birthday party at nap time might just be the end of us. But love is being inconvenienced.

I think that is why God made marriage. Because nothing is more inconvenient than sharing everything you have and giving everything you can to another person. But married or not, it seems to me that people fall into one of two camps in adulthood: those that are willing to be inconvenienced to support and help and love other people and those that are too busy. Too overwhelmed. Too consumed with their day to day to be able to catch a glimmer of the bigger picture.

As Ann Voskamp writes,

“There are one of two roads you can take through life: the Impressive Road or the Eulogy Road.

The Impressive Road is about impressing people, about creating your own parade of accomplishments, about trying to get people to step outside and applaud when you pass by.

And the Eulogy Road is about about letting the love of God and the needs of people impress and form and shape you, about being the Samaritan who sacrifices to help the other wounded paraders, about stepping inside to applaud the forgotten and about never passing anyone by. What drives us and this world, and drives us to drive our children, to build a successful life of laurels rather than focusing on building a meaningful life of love? All that show up at funerals are your friends and family — not all of your feats.

Funerals disrupt our lives. They come at inconvenient times and don’t take into account our other responsibilities. So do sickness, and celebration, and surprise. But maybe our lives are meant to be disrupted. Maybe it is ok that we can’t be present at what is in front of us, for a moment, because we have let ourselves be distracted by inconvenience. By love. By other’s needs. By a moment in time that is worth our full attention.

Even if no one sees, if no one else is paying attention to us.

Here is to being inconvenienced.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

14 May, 2015/in humbleonion/by Katie

If you follow me on Facebook, you know I posted recently about how AMAZING the movie the Hundred Foot Journey was. So many beautiful scenes in France (we are going there this summer – six weeks away!), such heartbreaking family themes, and most of all, such passion about food.

My favorite line: “Food is memories.”

This is so true, and really it is my driving force behind my love of food.

This Strawberry Rhubarb crisp is the perfect example.

Growing up we had rhubarb plants in our back yard, and every spring, my mom would make this dish. Even as it was cooking in the oven yesterday, the aroma of the sweet strawberries mingling with the slightly sour rhubarb made my mouth water and brought me right back to being in our family kitchen growing up. Strawberries and rhubarb together create some kind of alchemy that is a one of a kind flavor. No doubt this is why it makes such a powerful food memory – nothing in the whole world tastes like it.

It was pure joy to make this for my family. My husband loves crisps, and early on requested that the crumb topping be doubled as often as possible, so I always make mine with lots buttery oat crumbs. And I told my daughter Sophie that my mom used to make this for us, and I gave her a taste before dinner and she was glued to the bowl. “I can’t stop eating this! It is the best thing I’ve ever had!”

So I am hoping this food memory has been passed down to a new generation. And based on their reaction – ok, who am I kidding, based on my complete sadness that there are no leftovers – we will be making this again soon.

Did I mention it is super easy?

You start with the crumb topping. I adapted this from a recipe for just a rhubarb crisp, and I really loved their method for making the crumb topping. You melt the butter first, then stir it in when it is liquid, then put this bowl in the freezer. It was so nice not to have to use very cold cubes of butter and a pastry cutter which, though not that hard, just seem like extra work when you could use a fork to stir these ingredients together.

While this is in the freezer, you just chop the strawberries and rhubarb (I used a pound and a half of each which was the perfect ratio to the crumb topping) and dust them with flour, sugar, orange zest and vanilla.

You lay the fruit mixture in a greased ceramic bowl, then cover with the crumb topping. Bake at 375 for 45 minutes.

Directions (printer version here):

Combine 1 ½ cup flour, 1 cup oats, 1 ¼ cup sugar and a pinch of salt in a bowl. Stir in 8 tablespoons melted butter; squeeze into large crumbles and place in the freezer.

Toss 1 ½ pounds chopped rhubarb, 1 ½ pounds strawberries, halved or quartered if large, 1/2 cup sugar, 1/3 cup flour, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 1 teaspoon orange zest and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a 9-by-12-inch glass or ceramic baking dish. Scatter the crumble on top and bake in a preheated 375 degrees F oven until golden and bubbly, 45 minutes. Let cool for 15 minutes; serve with whipped cream.

Adapted from this Food Network recipe for Rhubarb Crumble.

A Weekend at Sugarbush

8 May, 2015/in humbleonion/by Katie

men l m b,l. ‘flnnklkhlukik,hnjngjrjr It’s good to have friends in the right places.

In my case, when your BEST FRIEND from childhood moves to Vermont, and your husband is really passionate about skiing, it is pretty helpful that she moves right next to Sugarbush Ski Resort. Eileen and her husband David are the cutest new newlyweds and expecting their first baby (a boy!) in the fall.

I know, I know your hearts and minds have turned to spring and summer but if you’re thinking about a great place to ski with your fam next year, take a look:

Every structure at Sugarbush is so unique. It is an architects dream. The attention to detail is amazing. Wynn Smith, the owner who reimagined what a Vermont Ski Resort could look like gave it so many pastoral aspects, especially this silo that looks like it belongs in the rolling hills of the Green Mountains.

Contemplating our descent.

The accommodations were amazing. It fits our big family perfectly and the kids moved right in.

We loaded up with possibly the most amazing breakfast buffet I have ever had.

And then we skiied with our offspring while Andrew hung out with Eileen.

I’m going to duplicate this kale caesar salad at home for sure.

This post was sponsored by Sugarbush.

The Simple Life

5 May, 2015/0 Comments/in Uncategorized/by Katie

We just got back from traveling during New Hampshire’s vacation week, which ended up being a complete tour of New England: Vermont over the weekend to see my childhood best friend and ski for the last time this year at Sugarbush Ski Mountain, then our condo in North Conway, NH, then to New York City to visit my best friend with my youngest daughter Lucy, then we all went to Connecticut for our dear friend’s parents 50th Wedding Anniversary Party. It sounds like a lot, and it was, but after the winter of isolation it was all very energizing, and we went to bed early and I fit in a few glorious runs which always makes traveling better.

It was such a full week that it surprised me to find that the current of my thoughts was focused on simplicity. Mostly because I finished the book The Life Changing Magic of Tidying-Up by Marie Kondo, which is a meditation on getting rid of everything in your home which doesn’t bring you joy. She is from Japan and incorporates a lot of elements of Zen Buddhism in her treatment of home organization. Which basically means it is filled with ideas that will act like a razor and cut out a lot of noise in our thinking that makes us hold on to things.

The title does not lie. This is life changing stuff.

Because you can extend this to your whole life. And her point is that once you tackle this you begin to see your life take shape, since you have more time and mental energy to focus on your deeper passions once your home is in order.

Can I get an hallelujah or two?

I am a BIG believer that books come into your life when they are supposed to, like people, and I think reading this book in the throes of spring fever, where we want to shed everything – all the layers that held us down all winter – really made the book speak to me more then if I read it any other time. Because now, making my life about simplicity is all I can think about. It is not a Pollyanna version of life with out work. There will always be messes and I dig hard work. It is just knowing exactly where to focus my energy, my effort, my elbow grease. It is knowing what matters the most. And somehow, woven in between all that simplicity, all I can see is beauty.

In the perennial classic, Elements of Style by Shrunk & White (as in EB White of Charlotte’s Web fame), they discuss how good writing is all about editing. Remove every unnecessary word. I love this way of writing. Since running a family and a home and writing for a few shelter magazines both happen to be my job, Marie Kondo’s book extended this idea to all the other areas of my life. By removing everything unnecessary, we are left with what is necessary. What matters. As one of Marie’s clients said, “Up to now, I believed it was important to do things that added to my life…but through your course I realized for the first time that letting go is even more important that adding.”

I will be chewing on this idea for a while, I can tell. But it sums up how I want to view everything in my life. Let go of the noise, superficiality, angst, and bring in the joy of watermelon on the porch, playing hide and seek, reading good writing, running in this heavenly spring air, and forging friendships over the best things – faith, family and food.

Here’s to closets with piles of folded towels and lavender scented poupori saches instead of skeletons. It may take time for me to get there, but every step feels lighter and happier already.

Now I’m out to go clean out a closet or two. Happy Spring, friends. xo

Tomatoes Provencal

29 April, 2015/in humbleonion/by Katie

Julia Child let many gifts to us….

What to do with tomatoes in the off season just might be my favorite.

Tomatoes Provencal is one of those dishes that is greater then the sum of its parts.

Simple herbs, bread crumbs, garlic, olive oil salt and pepper. That’s it!

Bake for 10-15 minutes and then, take a warm buttery crunchy herby garlic bite, with the floral warm softness of the tomato underneath.

I usually make these for a side dish with meat – lamb, steak, ham. The first time I made them was for Easter years ago, but they are so easy and so good I make them for holidays or for a casual dinner or for brunch.

There is something so lovely about opening up Julia’s cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and hear it’s spine crack under the weight of all those recipes. It is like opening a treasure box filled with jewels, and selecting one and holding it up to the light. Then when you make it and realize how simple and delicious it is, it becomes a memory of goodness, of beauty, and if you share it with others, of love.

I hope you try this one soon. Especially if you are craving tomato season as the weather turns warmer. I promise it won’t disappoint!

Tomatoes a la Provencale Recipe (printer version here)

adapted from Mastering The Art of French Cooking by Julia Child

6 firm ripe fleshy tomatoes (about 2 lb)

1/4 cup olive oil

1/2 cup fresh bread crumbs

2 tb minced fresh basil leaves

2 tb minced fresh thyme leaves

2 cloves garlic, mashed

3 tb minced shallots or green onions

Salt and pepper

Preheat your oven to 400ºF (200ºC). Remove the stems of the tomatoes. Cut the tomatoes in two half. Squeeze out seeds and juice. Add salt and pepper

Blend the rest of the ingredients together in a bowl. Fill each of the tomatoes with the mixture. Sprinkle the tomatoes with olive oil.

In a shallow baking or gratin dish arrange the tomatoes not too close from each other. Bake the tomatoes in the oven at 400º (200ºC) for 15 minutes max. Serve as a starter or as a side dish.

Shadow Boxing

24 April, 2015/2 Comments/in Uncategorized/by Katie

Being an adult is strange. Especially because we have to interact with other adults, some of whom are fully baked and developed and well rounded, others who are only partially done developing, arrested and bruised. It is especially daunting when we realize that depending on the day, either one of these is a great description of ourselves.

A linear time line like age isn’t all that helpful of a frame of reference. It would be much easier if we were all wearing T-shirts that gave updates to our state of mind, so that we could know “I’m in the middle of a difficult time with my husband/boss/sister and my heart hurts” or “I was up all night with a teething baby and I am just trying to survive until bedtime.”

But the thing that I am finding increasingly true about growing up is that we are who we are who we are. There is an essentialness to ourselves that was there from the get go, and no schooling, no vocation, no amount of time, and – with the exception of miracles and trauma – no big life events are going to alter it. We can grow, for sure. When we do, we are just becoming more of ourselves. The hardest thing for me is how our true selves are often residing in our blind spot. Buried so deep under business and work and a full life. It’s difficult and exhausting to discover what has been there the whole time. But so necessary.

Confusious, that sage Eastern ancient philosopher, said “Know thyself; it is the beginning of wisdom.” Didn’t he know how hard this is? What horrible advice to give when the task is so impossible. Especially for our current age, since there are so many distractions. The woman 60 years ago who was trying to run from herself had gossip and sherry and bridge. At least these involved community and weekly scheduled events. Today she has Instagram and wine and on-line shopping, all of which are at her fingertips, solitary, and immediately gratified. She can run much faster away, much more frequently. I stood at a pre-school outing about five years ago where one mom said, “I used to think motherhood was really lonely, and then I joined Facebook.” I was unsure what to say; Facebook has never cured the isolation of motherhood for me. Reading great writers, running with friends, volunteering to teach cooking classes at the pregnancy shelter, dinners with friends and family do.

As much as other people may drive us crazy, relationships and community teach us about our essential self. Alone, we tend to be shadow boxers and wear blinders. Alone, as Anne Lamott says, we are doomed. So as our communities tend to decay into isolation, our essential self gets harder to discover. We may know exactly what is going on in the plots of our favorite shows, our kids baseball schedule, and our paycheck but barely anything about the state of our heart – or our neighbors heart – unless we are checking in.

My own days are teaching me that this disconnection – from myself and from other people – is always painful. I am trying to make time for these connections. And I am trying to take time to figure out what is essential to me – to save on heartache, yes, but to live more deeply too.

I never fell for the whole perfectionist trap of motherhood, thanks to my large family upbringing. The Mt. Vesuvius laundry pile that lived in our basement, along with perpetually clogged gutters really eased me into the imperfect nature of family life. I did, however, fall for the illusion of control I liked to think I had over my life. I could think my way out of any problem. But the problem of ourselves, or finding our essential, authentic selves, is it has no book, no manual, no road map. By its very nature, authenticity is uncharted territory.

Anna Quindlen in her book ‘Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake’ shared this same angst. She wrote, “it’s odd when I think of the arc of my life, from child to young woman to aging adult. First I was who I was. Then I didn’t know who I was. Then I invented someone and became her. Then I began to like what I’d invented. And finally I was what I was again. It turned out I wasn’t alone in that particular progression.”

The task of becoming ourselves is at times hard, boring, and frustrating stuff. But when I take stock, and notice what is real, was is lasting and meaningful and true, it is very often the least interesting and hardest parts of my day. The parts we want to avoid. Having the tough conversations with your spouse. Being the person who is making the doctors appointments and lunches, checking on a neighbor, making the dreaded phone call to iron out a disagreement, helping the kindergartener practice her sight words for the hundredth time, doing the dishes so the next day can begin fresh, without today’s mess. These are not tweet worthy moments. They are not framers. But they make for strong families, communities, readers, and lives.

The real work of life, of discovering ourselves takes patience, which is hard in a world that wants instant gratification. Good books, good friendships, good food and good wine all take time. What makes us think a good life would be any different? It is tempting, when we are waiting to feel whole, to settle for lesser things. But going hungry in our deeper selves doesn’t ever work. We have to feed it, one prayer, one poem, one conversation at a time.

Quinoa Bowl With Balsamic Vinaigrette and Roasted Vegetables

21 April, 2015/in humbleonion/by Katie

Have you ever heard of a Buddha Bowl?

There are lots floating around lately in the healthy eating world. This website gives some examples as well as this definition from Urban Dictionary:

buddha bowl (n). a bowl which is packed so full that it has a rounded “belly” appearance on the top much like the belly of a buddha

I am an 80/20 girl when it comes to healthy eating/indulgence, with delicious flavors a requirement 100% of the time and a weakness for anything French. But, I love feeling great, so sometimes I need to make a big batch of this quinoa salad to have in the fridge for the week. Plus, one pot/bowl cooking makes life easy.

And, my husband loves this dish.

The basic building blocks of a buddha bowl are:

1. Grains – if you are eating legumes, use whatever you like. I love how the quinoa has protein and absorbs the dressing, but black beans, lentils, etc. are all great. I added chick peas too because I love them.

2. Protein – you can add your favorite meat or beans or tofu as well. I counted the quinoa and chick peas as protein.

3. Something Crunch – I used carrots and celery in this one, but nuts, onions, seeds, asian noodles, etc. are all yummy.

4. Something Creamy – avocado, feta, mozzarella, goat cheese, are all good options. Hummus and dairy based dips are yummy too. Noodles also offer a creamy element.

5. Veggies – roasted veggies have a concentrated flavor, so I tend to love them, and nutty cauliflower is my favorite right now. I often make a big batch of roasted veggies on a Sunday and use them up during the week. Any raw veggies, lettuces, sprouts, and and marinated veggies are all great too.

6. Dressing – lots of buddha bowls use tahini dressing but I went with more mediterranean flavors. I make it with Asian flavors too, and you can even stir store-bought pesto into the quinoa with yummy results. (Basil mozzarella balls and cherry tomatoes go very well with this dressing.)

**I like to make sure I have something acidic – the dressing, olives, capers, etc. But my husband doesn’t love olives and capers so I add them myself.

The thing that gives this dish its flavor is the dressing, and when you add it to the warm quinoa, it absorbes all that goodness. Balsamic vinegar, dijion and garlic are are mixed with extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper – pretty simple. If you have favorite homemade dressing ingredients – lemon, shallots, scallions – you really can’t go wrong, but my husband loves balsamic so that’s what I use. It also gets better every day it sits.

Quinoa with Balsamic Vinaigrette and Roasted Veggies (printer version here):

Ingredients:

Quinoa

2 onions, sliced into rings

1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved

1 head of cauliflower, cut into florets

1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

2 carrots, diced

2 celery, diced

feta or goat cheese, crumbled

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425.

Bring one cup water to boil, then add 2 cups of quinoa. (Cook according to package directions, usually for 15 min).

For Dressing (I use a 1:1 ratio for oil and vinegar, use what you prefer):

¼ cup balsamic vinaigrette

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon dijon mustard

1 clove garlic, minced or pressed in garlic press

salt and pepper

Toss half of dressing with quinoa as soon as it is done cooking. Set aside in large bowl.

For Roasted Veggies (select 2 or 3 veggies):

Slice or cut up veggies in as uniform a size as possible for even cooking.

I used cauliflower, onions and cherry tomatoes.

Sprinkle with EVOO, salt and pepper. Cook for 15-20 minutes, turning halfway through.

Assemble Bowl: Stir quinoa, roasted veggies, chopped veggies and chick peas together. Add additional dressing to coat all ingredients. Sprinkle with feta or goat cheese, and capers if desired.

Red Lipstick 4ever: A Love Letter to Women

15 April, 2015/1 Comment/in Uncategorized/by Katie

To the woman who sat near me at that brunch, with your perfectly coiffed cloud of gray curls, wearing pearls at your throat, bright red lips and a pastel sweater set, I just wanted you to know that I see you.

I see how you are doing womanhood. How you are aging, but you take such good care of yourself, how you are polite and strong but open and warm. You are in command of you, and your life, and you exude happiness, the kind that lets me know it is good to be where you are. And to keep wearing red lipstick.

And to the lady checking out before me at BJ’s, with your denture cleaner and wine and books and oranges, I will come over to your house anytime. Because I like to read and drink wine and eat oranges, too. And I hope I am doing it at every age. I can see by your hunched shoulders you could give a $#%&. That makes me love you even more.

To the mother of a friend, who loved us and hosted us and wore a killer dress at her son’s wedding, thank you. For painting a picture for me on how to do that: give your son away.

To an editor who keeps learning and growing and encouraging, I see how generous you are with your life and your time, and I hope to pay it forward someday. And I will try a Reiki massage because of how you talk about them.

I have recently noticed how much I am paying attention to women who have come before me. They are role models by default, as they inhabit the title of mature woman, which I am on my way to inhabit. So I am taking notes.

Some are happy. Some are defeated. I try to figure out why. Most are quiet, like they have learned to only speak when it is absolutely neccessary. Some are entitled. Some have for one reason or another blended into life not wanting to stick out, and so they don’t. But I still see them. They are still representing women. I see their cross necklaces and canes and bras stuffed from their mastectomies. And they are beautiful to me. Their life is a chapter under the definition of woman, and I am trying to learn, to see how to do this well, how to become a woman, using every example.

I am also paying attention to younger girls, studying where I came from, where my girls will be soon. To you teenagers, with your impossibly smooth skin and flat stomaches, who wear braces and bright makeup and straitened hair and cut off jeans and tiny shirts from Abercrombie, I see you too. I see the way you glance at my brood through the corner of your eye at the mall. The way you laugh uncomfortably when my daughters molest your neon fingerprinted nails. I see how bright and lost and hopeful and sad you are. I see how you stick together, and am jealous of your free time with close girlfriends, the ability to lay at the beach on a Saturday or linger over pancakes at the diner. You are exactly where you should be.

Middle school girls: you might be my favorite. You are so happy. You giggle and smile and your eyes twinkle. And you love kids. You love to sit with them and brush their hair and play duck duck goose and revisit your own childhood for a little while, and then go back and do your algebra and social studies and Lacrosse. You are at a bridge in between childhood and adulthood, a poignant moment that always seems to rush by too fast, like newborn babies and spring. You are so open – life has been nurturing you up to now and you are so willing to nurture it right back.

When I was your age, I used to study the mothers of little children, so you may be looking at me too. I used to watch how they pushed their kids hair back from their eyes and caress their chins, how they negotiated constant conflict and swung their toddlers on their hips. How they used to bounce their little babies, and wipe chocolate from little hands, all while carrying on a conversation. They operated at a high frequency, since their mode of living was wired to young children, and I was in awe of the importance of their work as mothers. If you are looking at me, if you are paying attention, I hope to be sure to smile at you. To let you know I see you, too.

We never know the seeds we may plant. But we are a tribe. A sisterhood. We may not be conscious of it as we race through our days, but we are always painting a picture, holding a seat in the auditorium of what it means to be a woman. We have the power to make our tribe stronger. By our noticing each other, supporting each other, by our presence, by the nod of our head as we pass each other on the street or at the store. By taking the few minutes to chat with each other about good books and sick children, where to find the best shoes or the best oncologist. To let each other know that they are seen and heard and counted. Or just how sweet the oranges are right now while we’re in line at the checkout.

We can lift each other up in a glance, a gesture, a wink. Being a girl is hard, but it deserves to be celebrated. I am picking out my red lipstick ASAP. With such strong beautiful woman around me, I’ll wear it one day soon.