happelsauce

I made this cinchy little salad last night on a whim. Chunks of avocado and grapefruit, dressed with mustardlemonlime and seasoned ever-so-lightly with cumin – easy on the eyes and super healthy with a unique, bold citrus bite. Yum. It was missing just one thing – a name. Something that pays homage to its slightly exotic taste. Hmmm. As I spooned the avocado grapefruit mixture onto a bed of arugula, I paused…Moroccan Winter Salad. Yes! I’ve never been to Morocco, but the name has an alluring, flavor enhancing ring to it. Don’t you think? I promptly took a photo and then inhaled my Moroccan Wintery goodness in less than two minutes.

To wash it down, I popped myself a colossal bowl of popcorn seasoned with copious amounts of salt and pepper and curled up to watch The Hurt Locker on my laptop. I had to remind myself to breathe at various times during the film – disarming bombs in Iraq is rather intense business. I loved the scene in the grocery store at the end of the film. Of course I did. Because I love grocery stores. But, also because I loved that the vast amount of cereal boxes symbolized the overwhelming number of choices we’re faced with everyday. So many choices. Not just in the aisles of our grocery stores, but everywhere. All the time. Maybe that’s why I find grocery shopping so comforting? I can make an educated choice based on ingredients, price and appearance. If I’m disappointed in my choice, I can take it back for a refund. Ohhh, if only life were that simple.

I fell asleep to the sound of the rain that just won’t quit. Evidently, the sun has gone missing this past week. I know I’m of Seattle roots and I shouldn’t let the gloom get me down. But alas, the gloom has got me down…pinned to the ground…in a headlock. Brutal. So, this afternoon, upon returning from my daily caffeinefixjobhuntingsession at Bernie’s, my friendly neighborhood coffee shop, I pulled the leftover salad from the fridge. I was feeling uninspired, cursing my dark mood and chalking it up to SAD – Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s a real thing. I swear. I found a box of couscous in the cupboard, whipped up a small bowl with a dash of red pepper flakes for a little kick and added it to my salad for heartier meal. Turns out it was just what the doctor ordered. It cured my SAD right on up. And the elusive sun poked out from beneath the clouds just as I took my last bite.

Moroccan Winter Salad

Serves 2 as a first course

1 ripe avocado, peeled and cut into small chunks

1 grapefruit, peeled and cut into small chunks (If you want a sweeter salad, swap out the grapefruit and replace it with two oranges.)

Juice from half a lemon

Juice from half a lime

1 or 2 tablespoons mustard (I like Plochman’s or another brand of stone ground)

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Dash of ground cumin

Couple handfuls of arugula

• Place the avocado and grapefruit chunks in a medium bowl.
• Combine the fresh lemon and lime juice, mustard, salt, pepper and cumin in a cup or jar and gently toss with avocado and grapefruit.
• Place a handful of arugula on a plate and top with avocado grapefruit mixture, spooning dressing over the fruit.
• Add cooked couscous, farro or wheat berries for a toothsome, more filling, SAD obliterating meal. And, if you have ‘em, I think a handful of pomegranate seeds would be a lovely complement.

I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. I was sad. The world and my place in it – both seemed so heavy. There’s Haiti. I want to help and I feel useless. There’s my life. I feel unsettled and it’s wearing on me. I’m almost ashamed to admit that I still don’t have a job. So, today I did what I often times do when I’m having a bad day. I went to the grocery store…twice. Walking the aisles – piles of applesorangespotatoes, jars of jamsjellieschutneys, bars of milkdarkfruitynutty chocolate – is my therapy. I always feel better at the grocery store. Always.

I bought a bottle of Chardonnay, a can of garbanzo beans, a can of fire roasted tomatoes, fresh spinach, Gruyère cheese, a bar of dark chocolate and a honeycrisp apple. On my way to checkout I managed to stuff half of the espresso brownie samples from the bakery counter into my mouth, thereby dulling my hunger pangs. When I got home, I realized that it’s been exactly one week since my last Happelsauce entry. I have no intention of blowing my New Year’s resolution, at least not yet. So, I ditched dinner, opened the bottle of wine, poured myself and my roomie each a glass, and here I am.

I don’t have a recipe today. Instead, I want to share an email from my sister. Ellie wrote from Port au Prince early this morning, while I was still fast asleep. She had returned to New York from Haiti last Sunday, a couple of days before the earthquake hit. She had been there visiting friends whom she’d met in earlier years while working for SOIL and the Robert F. Kennedy Center for Justice and Human Rights. I swear that so much of life is about timing. And Ellie’s was good. Unfortunately, there’s never a good time for a massive earthquake. Particularly in the poorest country in the western hemisphere where as Ellie said pre-quake, “Nothing works and nothing is easy.”

Ellie had an incredible time visiting friends and exploring more of the country that has always had a hold on her heart. Her photos are beautiful and lend perspective to the devastation that took place last Tuesday. There’s one shot in particular that Ellie took of  a neighborhood in Port au Prince upon her arrival. The New York Times posted a similar shot on their homepage taken after the earthquake. It looks like all the homes were squished by a giant bulldozer. It’s entirely surreal.

Ellie returned to Haiti on Saturday, where she has been assisting in the relief efforts. I think I wrote in my senior yearbook that she was “my inspiration.” Almost twelve years later and that’s still the case. So, I figure the very least I can do is spread her message. I would hop on the next flight down there if I believed I could be of help, but I don’t speak Kreyol and I’m not medically trained, so I will be patient. Maybe in a month or so? I would love to do more.

Here’s Ellie’s email. Edited only a teenytiny bit.

January 19, 2010

I am well, but I am not SUPER useful.  I definitely think the best thing for people in the states to do is 1) Study Haiti–read The Uses of Haiti by Paul Farmer, read other books, learn about why relief is so hard here; 2) Organize folks in the US to give money; 3) Pressure companies/corporations who can help.  Gas is a HUGE problem. Hospitals and hundreds of US docs are no good without gas to transport patients.

Today was a crazy, inspiring day.  Tonight at the House a team of doctors from Colorado amputated a man’s leg.  Sasha, Beto and I buried it in the backyard.  We also brought a few new patients to the house–a woman with a fractured femur, another with a severe kidney infection.  I have only felt safe and hopeful around the people.  While the leg left this man’s body, out back a truck came with hundreds of bags of food.  We distributed it peacefully.  Sash and I talked about how when the people who distribute have guns (the UN, for example), people are more likely to riot.  I think that so much of the problem we see now reflects centuries of mistrust.  I think the only people who should come here should speak Kreyol.  For now.  There are plenty of capable Haitians who are ready to help.  Work gives a sense of purpose.

Incredible days.  Really sad.  I have not seen one dead body.  I have not seen one fight.  I have seen lots of people cleaning and cooking and cutting hair and striving for normalcy.

Earlier on today, the doctors saved a man who came in with a spurting aorta.  They do all the serious cases in the kitchen.  There is blood on the wall.  I eat soup and look around and feel incapable of taking it all in.

To reiterate – for now, just work state side!!  We will find things to do and maybe come down in a few months when things have organized/calmed.  People who don’t speak any Kreyol are not so useful.  We should all begin to practice!  I really don’t speak great but tonight I translated for two docs while they checked out new patients.  Humbling.

It’s 11:52pm. I’m posting this just in the nick of time. Goodnight friends. Goodnight Haiti. Goodnight world. Sweet dreams.

Happy New Decade, dearest Happelsauce readers!! It’s twelve days in and I’m finally getting around to writing. Jeeez. Sorry about that. Aside from Pom, I’m pretty sure none of you were holding your breath for my next posting but please accept my apology anyway.

How’s this? New Year’s Resolution #2: I will get Happelsaucey at least once a week. (New Year’s Resolution #1 is to not indulge in eating seconds, because I need to face the truth, food doesn’t taste nearly as good the second time around. I don’t need seconds. Might be my toughest resolution to date. Seriously. My love for food runs deep.)

Speaking of food and rules, Michael Pollan recently came out with a new book titled Food Rules: An Eater’s Manual. Last Friday, The New York Times’ Well blog posted an interview with Pollan about his new book. The last question posed was, “Did you learn anything new yourself from the rules?” Pollan addressed the psychology of food . “You can have intense food experience with less food. Europeans have intense food experiences but eat less food.” I like that quote. So true. It sums up my New Year’s Resolution #1 perfectly. And come to think of it, my most treasured food memories from 2009 come from my time spent in Spain and France. Because the food was freshsimpleclean and the flavors indelible - Spanish tapas (olives, jamon and queso), farm fresh chevre with bread and salad, avocado toast drizzled with olive oil and salt. Mmm. Mmm. Mmmmm.

So, seconds schmeconds! I’ll take good company around the dinner table any day over an extra helping of pasta. After all, good food brings people together. It’s a beautiful thing. On that note, I’d like to share a recipe with you. I first attempted risotto a few months ago on a chilly Halloween night in Chicago. So yes, it’s true that this recipe isn’t exactly new, but it’s really good. And ever since I conquered this pumpkin risotto a few months ago, I’ve been cooking a variety of risotto recipes ever since. I hope you will too.

It’s only fair to set the opening scene from my weekend in Chicago. Picture Wicker Park, Chicago in late October. Brownstones, mushy leaves, gray skies and torrential rain.  I was visiting my dear friends Rebekah and Katie. I had flown in the day before Halloween and taken the train from O’Hare into the city. I was wheeling my bag down the sidewalk, soaked to the bone, attempting to avoid puddles the size of kiddie pools. Rebekah met me a block from the train, soaked, and pushing her stroller with brand new baby Charlie bundled inside. It was a wet and wonderful welcome I won’t soon forget. It’s simultaneously remarkable and utterly mind-boggling to see my friends with their babies. My friends are having babies. And the babies look like miniature versions of my friends.  I guess they are miniature versions of my friends.

Anyway, I digress. I had read an Op-Ed article titled “Pumpkin Eaters” a few days before my visit and was charmed by Peter Mayle’s Pumpkin Risotto recipe at the bottom of the page. Actually, it’s less a recipe than an explanation of how to prepare the pumpkin. I was intrigued. Rebekah, Pat, Katie and I drank Dark ‘n Stormies while cutting the flesh of fresh sugar pumpkins into chunks, stirring the rice and holding Baby Charlie (soo chic and appropriately dressed in her pumpkin snuggly). The entire risotto experience which I feared might turn daunting and disasterly, was refreshingly breezy and enjoyable. As long as you’re diligent about stirring the rice and allowing time for the hot broth to soak in before adding another cup, risotto is pretty simple. It’s a hearty dish without being heavy and tastes creamy without containing a drop of cream. Risotto sticks to your ribs in the best way possible. It’s the perfect winter dish. Pair it with mixed greens or fennel and apple salad. I promise you’ll leave the table sat-is-fied.

Pumpkin Risotto

Serves 6

Basic Risotto

1 quart chicken broth

1 tablespoon butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, finely chopped

2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

2 cups arborio rice

1 cup dry white wine

Salt and pepper to taste

3 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Plus Pumpkin

2 small fresh sugar pumpkins (Or try substituting butternut squash or another winter squash like hubbard, red kuri or kabocha.)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon fresh marjoram

1 teaspoon dried oregano

Salt and pepper to taste

• Preheat oven to 475 degrees.
• For the pumpkin: After removing seeds and fiber, cut the flesh into chunks, leaving the skin still attached. With your hands, mix the chunks in a bowl with olive oil, salt and pepper, fresh marjoram and dried oregano. Lay the chunks on a baking tray, skin side down, and put them in the oven. When the chunks of pumpkin are soft and the edges are tinged with brown, remove from the oven and allow to cool, scrape the flesh from the skin and shred with a fork into a bowl.

• Heat the broth in a pan and keep it warm.
• In a separate pan heat the olive oil and butter, add the onions and garlic and cook very slowly for about 15 minutes without browning. When onions and garlic have softened, add the rice and turn up the heat.
• The rice will now begin to lightly fry, so keep stirring it. After a minute it will look slightly translucent. Add the wine and keep stirring — it will smell goooood.

• Once the wine has cooked into the rice, add your first ladle of hot broth and a good pinch of salt. Turn down the heat to a simmer so the rice doesn’t cook too quickly on the outside. Keep adding ladlefuls of broth, stirring and allowing each ladleful to be absorbed before adding the next. This will take around 15 minutes. Taste the rice to see if it’s cooked. Keep adding broth until the rice is soft but with a slight bite (al dente, if you will). Don’t forget to check the seasoning carefully. If you run out of broth before the rice is cooked, add some boiling water.
• Remove from the heat and add the pumpkin, butter and Parmesan. Stir well. Place a lid on the pan and allow to sit for 2 minutes. Sprinkle with more Parmesan. Devour immediately.