Talia Rose

I have a big folder of recipes to try. Today Dagny seemed in need of some chocolate, so I pulled out one I've been saving since last August, when someone sent it to the Live and Learn Conference yahoo group. Apparently it comes from the Sweet Potato Queens, who I am not familiar with, but hey look, through the magic of technology, here's a site. Gotta love the intornets.

After eating it, Dagny said she felt like a person who had been denied food for her whole life and was finally given some. Well, then.

Chocolate Stuff

2 eggs
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick butter
2 heaping tablespoons Hershey's cocoa powder
1 running-over teaspoon vanilla

Preheat the oven to 300.
Beat the eggs. Add sugar, flour, and salt.
In another bowl, melt the butter in the microwave. Add the cocoa.
Add the butter/cocoa to the other ingredients and mix well.
Add the vanilla.

Pour the mixture into a loaf pan, place the pan in another pan with an inch or so of water in it, and put the whole thing in the oven.

Cook for 40-50 minutes, or until the top feels crunchy. Don't overcook - you want the top to be crunchy but the rest of it to be gooey goodness.

I think it would be amazing on ice cream, but Dagny says it's perfect straight. Either way, if you're making it for more than 3-4 people, I'd double the recipe.

I tried posting this over at RUN, but I didn't get any responses, so I thought I'd try here.

We ended up with two copies of a couple of books. We'd like to give away the extra copies, and we're willing to mail them anywhere in the US or Canada. I'll send them separately or together, to the first person who comments asking for either or both.

The first book is Where the Heart Is, by Billie Letts.


The second book is Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat, by Lynne Jonell.

Both are new and paperback.

You can see where they get their good looks.

In style we trust.

They've been framed.

We've got a couple new recipes we're liking a lot.

I can spend forever in front of a chocolate counter deciding what to get, but in the end it always comes down to caramels. So I've begun a hunt for a good caramel recipe. (Hmm, maybe the amazingly talented people at Skinner's Sugar House would share theirs...) What I'm going for is the classic chocolate covered vanilla caramel, but since I've never made any kind of caramel at all I just picked a recipe and gave it a shot. These aren't chocolate coated, but after tasting them I'd say they'd be delicious dipped in chocolate, and I'll try that next time I make them. They're smooth and creamy and overall yummy.

1 cup heavy cream
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 teaspoon fleur de sel (we had kosher salt, so I used that)
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup water

1. Line bottom and sides of an 8-inch square baking pan with parchment paper, then lightly oil parchment.
2. Bring cream, butter, and fleur de sel to a boil in a small saucepan, then remove from heat and set aside.
3. Boil sugar, corn syrup, and water in a deep, heavy saucepan, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Boil, without stirring but gently swirling pan, until mixture is a light golden caramel. (took about 20 minutes)
4. Carefully stir in cream mixture (mixture will bubble up) and simmer, stirring frequently, until caramel registers 248°F on thermometer. (took about 1/2 hour)
5. Pour into baking pan and cool at least 2 hours. Cut into 1-inch pieces, then wrap each piece in a 4-inch square of waxed paper, twisting 2 ends to close.

The cooking process took about an hour, which is a long time to be at the stove, but I had a stool and my computer and a Rowan to keep me entertained.

One thing I learned is that tin foil is not a good substitute for parchment paper. I had a hard time peeling it off in places and lost some of the caramel. (Believe me, every effort was made to avoid this catastrophe. It was only when I realized that I was coming very close to cutting off a finger that I finally gave in to the inevitable.)

The other recipe is for a dinner. It's delicious. Jon and Dagny completely flipped over it. If you read it and it sounds good to you get the ingredients on your next trip to the store. You won't be disappointed.

Serves Two

1 Large, ripe tomato (2 cups roughly chopped, 1 1/2 cups blended)
1/2 Cup Raw Cashews
1 Tbs Tomato Paste
1/4 Cup Water

2 Tbs Olive Oil
2-4 Cloves Garlic, minced, optional
6 Ounces (ish) Whole Wheat Spaghetti
1 tsp Salt (edit: upped from 3/4!)
2-3 Tbs Wine or Water, optional (we used Marsala wine)
1-2 tsp Freshly Cracked, Coarse Black Pepper
1 Large Handful Fresh Basil Leaves, chopped

Put a large pot of salted water on to boil.

Core the tomato, then roughly chop it. Add it to your blender, seeds, skin and all. Add cashews, tomato paste, and water. Blend until very smooth.

Add olive oil to a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add garlic and saute until golden, being careful not to burn. Once water is boiling, add pasta. Pour sauce from the blender into the saute pan and bring to a simmer. Add salt and let cook for 4-5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

If desired add wine/water to thin out the sauce. Taste and season more if necessary. Let simmer until pasta is finished cooking. Once pasta is cooked, drain. Add pasta to the saute pan with black pepper and freshly chopped basil leaves. Toss to coat. Serve immediately, garnishing with more pepper and basil.

The recipe serves two, so Jon played with the amounts. I asked him for specifics: He used 4-5 tomatoes, "3 handfuls" of cashews, ''a lot" of garlic, and the rest is, believe it or not, even more vague. He also threw in 1/2 an onion, and I think it was a good addition. **I've been corrected. Jon says he used 8 cloves of garlic. **

These are from a self-portrait project Dagny's been working on. (Translation: Oh, so this is where my camera's been for the past couple months.)

I love her.

I watched a cooking show online today that I really enjoyed. I looked it up to show Rowan, and what do you know, the host, Julian, is an unschooler.

Here's the episode I first saw.

Jeanne has found a picture I don't remember seeing before (just where are you stealing these from, anyway?) and once again we get to see ourselves peeking out of Rowan and Maeve's faces.

A birthday present for my sister, who just loves a good Bush quote.

(it's 1 minute 40 seconds into this video)



"I've abandoned free-market principles to save the free-market system."

People say you can see into a person’s soul by looking into his eyes, but I think you’d do just as well to look at his hands.

I started memorizing my dad’s hands when I was pretty little. I’m not sure why, but I remember doing it. I’ve always had this weird system of memory-keeping that involves taking snapshots in my mind. I’d think, “Look at the little white moons under his nails. Remember them.” “Look at the nicks and scrapes on his knuckles. Remember them.” “Look at the way he uses his fingernail to crease his dollar bill. Remember it.” "Look at the way his fingers flutter on the steering wheel. Remember it."

My dad’s hands built and comforted and fixed and cooked and turned pages and folded things and played catch and drew pictures and rattled candy before popping it into his mouth and planted and banged and whistled and spread birdseed and straightened and painted and wrote and cleaned and patted and loved. They were not perfect, but were caring and strong and capable and gentle.

And they are remembered.

When I was thirteen a Lender's bagel was about the closest I had ever been to anything Jewish. All that changed with our move to a town where the majority of the kids in my school were Jewish. My friend Bequa was my tour guide, introducing me to real bagels (with a shmear), delis (if there isn't a bowl of half sours on the table, it's not a deli), and my very own NJB (nice Jewish boy, who, as it ends up, is actually an atheist, but that works for me).

I came to love Yiddish (Is there a better word for a rag than a schmuttie? A better way to say pretty face than shana punim? A better word for those little rolls of fat on babies' legs than pulkies?), although my accent is apparently painful, the food (a knish from The Butcherie cannot be beat - oh, wait, I'm vegetarian now...), and, of course, the boy.

I may be a shiksa but I've learned to make a mean kugel, I hear my kasha vanishkas may just be better than a certain grandmother's, (ok, it's her recipe, so I'm not sure if that's possible, but anyway...), and I have mastered the filling and the pinching of hamantashen. Until yesterday, though, I never tackled challah. My mother-in-law's challah is really good. Really good like you just want to eat the whole loaf yourself and not share any. Frankly it's just plain intimidating. She's agreed to share her recipe with me, but it's apparently complicated enough that she needs to show me. Oh, and it makes 5 loaves. In the meantime, she talked me through some braiding instructions over the phone, and I found this recipe.


Isn't it pretty? Rowan did most of the braiding. She's got skills.

Neither Jon or I thought it was as good as his mom's. I couldn't tell you if that's because it isn't as good or because you love what you know and especially what your mom makes. But, yum - I wouldn't have minded a bit eating the whole loaf myself and not sharing any, but with eight other people in the house I didn't stand much of a chance.

Dagny was the first to go vegetarian. Shortly after we moved into this house almost 9 years ago we decided to have a barbecue. Suddenly Dagny was hit with the idea that the cows who live next door could smell the meat cooking on our grill. I followed shortly after, having always leaned in that direction, and Rowan followed as soon as she made the connection between meat and animals.

Anyway, all that to say the three of us have been vegetarian for 8-9 years. It's been easy for all of us, as the idea of not being vegetarian just grosses us out. We have, however, had one big problem. Marshmallows. How to live without that sticky goodness? What's a campfire without a toasted marshmallow? What's better than air-puffed sugar delights for secret eating?

We've been on a mission. Somewhere, there must be a vegetarian marshmallow that isn't a blob of white goop. A marshmallow you can stab with a stick and hold in the fire til it's puffed up and golden and full of gooey goodness.

Mission accomplished.

Make these:

1 2/3 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups chopped unpeeled apples (1-2) (I peeled mine)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup milk
2 eggs

topping
1 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon

(I didn't measure but I'd guess I used a bit more cinnamon and sugar than that.)

Preheat oven to 180C. (350F)

Mix all dry ingredients, except topping, in a large bowl.

In another bowl, mix all the wet ingredients.

Combine ingredients.

Scoop into a muffin pan.

Mix topping ingredients and sprinkle on top. You may wish to place sliced apples on top of the batter. (Do - it looks pretty.)

Bake for 35 - 45 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. (Mine were ready in more like 30 minutes.)

Yield: about 10 muffins

I saved the recipe but not the site, so I can't give credit for the recipe, but I'm hoping whoever it was wouldn't mind me putting it here and saying it makes for a very yummy breakfast.

I could get lost in this site for days, if only it didn't make me so hungry that I have to step away from the computer.

I keep a list of books that I want to read. (Everyone does, right?) Here's what's on it today:

The Splendid Table's How to Eat Supper, by Lynne Rossetto Kasper and Sally Swift

Villette, by Charlotte Bronte

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, by Anne Bronte

Where the Heart Is, by Billie Letts

East of Eden, by John Steinbeck

The New Moosewood Cookbook, by Mollie Katzen

The Way of Zen, by Alan Watts

Funeral Rights, by Robert Larkins

Our Inner Ape, by Frans de Waal

Natural Fashion: Tribal Decoration from Africa, by Hans Silvester

Square Foot Gardening, by Mel Bartholomew

Eat Me, by Kenny Shopsin

Still Life with Woodpecker, by Tom Robbins

Rowan says this is the most boring post ever. Kind of shocking from someone who can get so, shall we say, 'agitated' about the fact that the next Sisters Grimm book isn't out yet, but I forgive her.

Yesterday Dagny and I watched How to Cook Your Life. (love instant Netflix!) It touches on all sorts of things I've been thinking about as I cook and paint my house and let my hands be hands.

Netflix also has Across the Universe available instantly. We watched it while the poll results came in, which made for an interesting juxtaposition of historical events. I'm sure I would have Beatles' songs stuck in my head all day if it weren't for the fact that I've had another song stuck in my head for a week. Am I going to try to get it stuck in your head too? You bet your dog on it.

I'm cooking a lot lately. A lot. I used to, and then I stopped, and now I seem to have started again. I forgot how much I like it. And I'm grieving. It's a process. (This is a line from Analyze That. Billy Crystal's dad dies and he keeps saying it. Now I keep saying it. I can use it to explain away just about any odd behavior.)

When the no knead bread recipe started showing up everywhere on the intornets (known to some others as the internet, but to our family as the intornets) I ignored it. It was like one of those songs they play over and over on the radio until you go so far past hating it you almost like it. Almost.

This week I found a version of the no knead recipe that seemed too easy not to try. It makes a very small loaf, which Rowan and I have agreed is silly.



Rowan went with peanut butter. I added some of Kelly Lovejoy's honey from happy bees, which we hoard as the liquid gold it is. Rowan has her own jar. I have my own jar. If anyone wants to touch our jars they need to come through us. Fingers may be bitten off.

(Oh, and Kelly, send more honey.)

Need a laugh?

I be warnin' ya now me hearty - walk the plank if ye're easily offended. We be playin' with vegetables again.

I'm afraid we can't seem to stop ourselves at this point. Although I have to admit, we haven't actually tried.



But look - we do enjoy the finer things. Well, the kids do, anyway.

Last week Rowan, Dagny, Cameron and I went to Blue Hills. We used to hike it regularly, but somehow fell out of the habit, so it's been years since we were there. The day was just a little bit colder than I would have liked, but hot chocolate helped.




Interestingly, we ended up with more pictures of the graffiti on the very cool observation tower than we did of the view. What can I say, we appreciate fine art.

The itsy bitsy Rowan - I mean spider - is loading up her web. Check it out!

Tomorrow night Dagny will be home and when I go to sleep I will not have the one-of-my-babies-is-missing feeling that doesn't seem to completely go away no matter how big your babies get, for which I am actually very grateful.


(Photo stolen without permission from Karen-the-photographer's site. I'm fresh like that.)

Got 52 minutes and 34 seconds? Sadly, they don't play my very favorite songs. But I'm sure that's just because they knew I wasn't there. And they get major bonus points for wearing cardboard boxes with water bottles sticking out the sides on their heads.

Today Jon and Rowan went to an archaeological dig in Duxbury. Volunteers, led by an archaeologist, are working on what they believe is the site of Duxbury's second meeting house.



They found chunks of brick, flakes that could be from toolmaking, quartz, seashells, charcoal, a glass bottle fragment, two small pieces of plate glass, a large stone, and what Rowan thinks could be a partially-formed arrowhead.




I grew up in Duxbury, in a house that was built in 1696 by the son of pilgrims. I'm glad Rowan had a chance to make her own happy historical memories there.

Mya Estefania



(ok, she's Mya Stephanie, but Rowan and I call the shots at this roadside attraction, and we got attached to her possible-name. Don't worry Mya - we'll call you anything you want us to. We are firmly wrapped around your yummy little fingers.)

Rowan got to hold Mya first because even though I'm her great aunt Rowan's her awesome first cousin once removed. This is the kind of logic I'm trying to fight here, people.

Her mama is smart and strong and brave and funny and very good at hearing her own voice amid the clamour of outside voices and I love her to pieces. Her daddy and brothers aren't too shabby either.

Every once in a while I don't get around to unloading my camera, and things happen, and more things happen, and then I unload my camera and I get to remember some of the things that happened and see some things I wasn't even there for. Fun!

So, what do three teenagers do on a Saturday night when they're home alone?