Cream of Spinach Soup

Ingredients

2 cups chopped fresh spinach - packed - (or 1 10-oz package frozen spinach, thawed)
1 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup butter
3 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered (about 1 pound)
1 1/2 cups chicken broth (or vegetable broth for vegetarian option)
1 1/2 cups water
2 chicken bouillon cubes (or vegetable bouillon cubes for vegetarian option)
2 cups half-and-half
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
3/4 cup sour cream
Optional: chopped chives and/or ground allspice for garnish

Method

1 In a large saucepan over medium heat, sauté onion in butter for 3 minutes or until limp. Add potatoes, chicken broth, water, and bouillon cubes. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover and simmer for 20 minutes or until the potatoes are tender. Add spinach and cook for 2 to 4 minutes longer until spinach is tender.

2 Working in batches, purée soup mixture in a blender. Return to saucepan. Whisk in half-and-half, salt and pepper.

3 Over low heat, bring to just before simmering. Whisk in the sour cream. You may want to use an immersion blender to get the sour cream fully incorporated. This soup can be served hot or chilled. Garnish with chopped chives, sprinkles of allspice, or a dollop of sour cream.

Serves 6 to 8.

Simply Recipes http://simplyrecipes.com

Tree: A Life Story

Tree: A Life Story by David Suzuki

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Often among scientists, there is a specialization snobbery. “Oh, you’re a chemist." [sneer:] "I’m a biologist." [nose in air:] And between the fields, they can’t see the forest for the trees. It is for that reason that I love ecological sciences. While scientists seek to understand their subject matter from the study of their mechanistic parts, ecology brings them back together—to their interrelated processes. It is a beautiful unity.

David Suzuki is one such scientist. This book is a meaty read, because Suzuki really delves into some plant biology. He then proceeds to weave it together with ecology as well as history. Specifically, the history or 500 year span of one Douglas fir tree. Not only does he describe the biological processes that make it’s existence possible, he describes the evolution of thought through this time—from the native relations with the tree to the medicinal uses of plants; from the growing knowledge of botany to ecosystems; and finally to the lumber industry and it’s effect on the ecosystem.

I did find myself wondering where the two authors were in the book—I could not easily discern their “voices.” And maybe that is just as well—making for a seamless story. And so I refer only to Suzuki—simply because I am familiar with his work. Suzuki’s love of life shines through in his writing, as well as in his tv series (The Nature of Things and The Sacred Balance) and his environmental activism. He is inspiring.


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Circumambulating...and other adventures

Tomorrow my daughter and I set off on an adventure with our homeschool group. We're going camping in Mount Tamalpais State Park near San Francisco. Although it is a state park, being near the city, it has been visited and traversed by city folk. I read somewhere that Jack Kerouac and Gary Snyder spilled some wine together in a little shack there (which partially inspired The Dharma Bums). After the 1967 Human Be-In in San Francisco, poets Allen Ginsberg and Gary Snyder got together at Mount Tam to do a sort of walkabout or walking meditation. They called it "circumambulating." Here is a poem by Snyder:

The Circumambulation of Mount Tamalpais

Walking up and around the long ridge of Tamalpais, “Bay Mountain,” circling and climbing – chanting – to show respect and to clarify the mind. Philip Whalen, Allen Ginsburg, and I learned this practice in Asia. So we opened a route around Tam. It takes a day.

STAGE ONE

Muir Woods: The bed of Redwood Creek just where the Dipsea Trail crosses it. Even in the dryest season of this year some running water. Mountains make springs.

Prajñāparamitā-hridaya-sūtra
Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
Four Vows

Splash across the creek and head up the Dipsea Trail, the steep wooded slope and into four meadows. Gold dry grass. Cows – a huge pissing, her ears out, looking around with large eyes and mottled nose. As we laugh. “-Excuse us for laughing at you.” Hazy day, butterflies tan as grass that sit on silver-weathered fence posts, a gang of crows. “I can smell fried chicken” Allen says – only the simmering California laurel leaves. The trail winds crossed and intertwining with a dirt jeep road.

TWO

A small twisted ancient interior live oak splitting a rock outcrop an hour up the trail.

Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
The Heat Mantra

A tiny chörten before this tree.

Into the woods. Maze fence gate. Young Douglas fir, redwood, a new state of being. Sun on madrone: to the bare meadow knoll. (Last Spring a bed of wild iris about here and this time too, a lazuli bunting.)

THREE

A ring of outcropped rocks. A natural little dolmen-circle right where the Dipsea crests on the ridge. Looking down a canyon to the ocean – not so far.

Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
Hari Om Namo Shiva

And on to Pan Toll, across the road, and up the Old Mine Trail. A doe and fawn, silvery gray. More crows.

FOUR

Rock springs. A new trickle even now-

The Sarasvatī Mantra
Dhāranī for Removing Disasters

-in the shade of a big oak spreading out the map on a picnic table. Then up the Benstein Trail to Rifle Camp, old food-cache boxes hanging from wires. A bit north, in the oak woods and rocks,a neat little saddhu hut built of dry natural bits of wood and parts of old crates; roofed with shakes and black plastic. A book called Harmony left there. Lunch by the stream, too tiny a trickle, we drink water from our bota. The food offerings are swiss cheese sandwiches, swede bread with liverwurst, salami, jack cheese, olives, gomuku-no-moto from a can, grapes, penettone with apple-currant jelly and sweet butter, oranges, and soujouki – greek walnuts in grape-juice paste. All in the shade, at Rifle Camp.

FIVE

A notable serpentine outcropping, not far after Rifle Camp.

Om Shri Maitreya
Dhāranī for Removing Disasters

SIX

Collier Spring – in a redwood grove – water trickling out a pipe.

Dhāranī of the Great Compassionate One

California nutmeg, golden chinquapin the fruit with burrs, the chaparral. Following the North Side Trail.

SEVEN

Inspiration Point.

Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
Mantra for Tārā

Looking down at Lagunitas. The gleam of water storage in the brushy hills. all that smog – and Mt. St. Helena faintly in the north. The houses of San Anselmo and San Rafael, once large estates…”The Peacock Gap Country Club” – Rocky brush climb up the North Ridge Trail.

EIGHT

Summit of Mt. Tamalpais. A ring of rock pinnacles around the lookout

Prajñāparamitā-hridaya-sūtra
Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
Dhāranī of the Great Compassionate One
Hari Krishna Mantra
Om Shri Maitreya
Hari Om Namo Shiva

All about the bay, such smog and sense of heat. May the whole planet not get like this. Start the descent down the Throckmorton Hogback Trail (Fern Canyon an alternative.)

NINE

Parking lot of Mountain Home. Cars whiz by, sun glare from the west.

Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
Gopala Mantra

Then across from the California Alpine Club, the Ocean View Trail goes down. Some yellow broom flowers still out. The long descending trail into shadowy giant redwood trees.

TEN

The bed of Redwood Creek again.

Prajñāparamitā-hridaya-sūtra
Dhāranī for Removing Disasters
Hari Om Namo Shiva
Hari Krishna Mantra
Four Vows

–standing in our little circle, blowing the conch, shaking the staff rings, right in the parking lot.

~ Gary Snyder

I go to Mount Tam, with literature in hand, with this history, this richness in mind. I'm excited about standing in this place where some of my favorite poets have stood. The region was once inhabited by Miwok Indians and is steeped in their history, as well. In fact, the mountain's name was most likely a Spanish reference to the Miwok, who they called "Tamal." The plants and wildlife there have stood witness and have their tale to tell. I look forward to our journey, to standing witness, to being there completely with my daughter and our dear friends. I hope to go with an open heart and to see through my own eyes. See you in a few days!

Kombucha Experiment #2

Last week I attempted to make kombucha tea without a starter “mushroom.” Instead, I used a jar of kombucha that I’d bought at the grocery store. Kombucha is so incredible at reproducing itself that I wanted to see if the live cultures in it would form a mushroom. Well, after twelve days, here it is.

Normally, a kombucha mushroom will take the shape of the container it’s in. You can see that this one is hardly a shape at all! But there were bubbles; it was fermenting. So, if it looks like kombucha and smells like kombucha, is it kombucha? I tentatively decided to give it a try.

It didn’t taste as potent as kombucha tea normally does and wasn’t quite as carbonated. It was also much sweeter. I guess there weren’t enough cultures to consume the sugar and ferment it. It tasted kind of like sparkling cider! Not bad. I put it in the fridge and think we’ll still drink it. Since I have another bottle of kombucha from the store, I thought I’d try again. This time I halved the recipe and lowered my sugar ratio.

I’ll let you know next week how it turns out! If this doesn’t work, I’m going to find a mushroom for those of you who have never heard of or brewed kombucha. They’re pretty amazing!

Post script: No head wounds were incurred in the making of this batch! *big smile*

In Memorial

Today is Memorial Day, an American holiday to memorialize the troops who fought and died serving our country, the troops that continue to fight to keep our country free.

But it is not them of whom I think. No. My thoughts arise from a knot in my stomach and an anxious flutter in my heart. Grief for my mom’s passing burns through me like a wildfire. I think it just might consume the me that I used to be. I want to feel this sorrow, but I don’t want it to consume my family. So I’ve been keeping myself busy, perusing blogs, exercising?!, yardwork. Now that’s therapeutic.

On Saturday, I even went up to help my dad pull weeds in my mom’s secret garden.

We left the borage, fennel, mint, mugwort, and thyme, clearing just enough to plant some peppers.

My little sister and daughter lounged on the grass and consulted their pendulums as to whether they should work...

or not.

It was hard work, but the day was beautiful, and the company was good.

Anouk took this picture on our drive home….

Sunday I worked in my own yard, watering, tending and pulling weeds. Today I planted some canna lily rhizomes. In so doing, I discovered my long-neglected, living advent spiral. And woven into it, I uncovered archaeological remnants from four different fairy homes. They’d been destroyed by the elements and buried in leaves.

I believe they were the second to last of such fairy offerings. This, I believe, was the last.

It was built shortly after one beautiful autumn parkday last year, when a younger friend of my daughter’s said, “Anouk, you are a real girl.” At first my heart swelled with sweetness that her friend saw her genuineness. As her friend continued, I realized it was not a compliment. She proceeded to pronounce another friend the best fairy leprechaun girl ever.

Amazingly, there was no charge around this interchange. Anouk didn’t even seem to notice. I wanted to interject, “You don’t know her like I do!” But I didn’t. I realized that this is how it must be. It wasn’t long after that she lost her last baby tooth and started getting excited about independence. She is leaving the kingdom of childhood.

I just hope that it’s not too much of a mad rush. I hope that she finds pause to commune with the nature spirits…to daydream and breathe…to keep the vestiges of innocence kindled in her spirit.

I wish that for us all. Perhaps if we remembered our original natures, we’d forego war and have a garden party instead.

The Palace of Illusions

The Palace of Illusions: A Novel by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni is a re-envisioning of the ancient Indian epic the Mahabharata. It is an historical chronicle full of intrigue and adventure. And like many ancient stories, it is embedded with spiritual wisdom. The spiritual section of the Mahabharata is called the Bhagavad Gita. I read this about fifteen years ago looking for some insight but found myself disillusioned by a very human tale of war.

What makes Divakaruni’s retelling accessible is that it is told through the voice of one of the women in the Mahabharata. It is in keeping with the original and still very much a tale of war. What brought it to life for me, however, was Divakaruni’s characterization. She used the female voice to bring the relationships alive so that we can see the characters’ motivations, their longings, their human frailty—as our own. She masterfully drew the parallel between war among kingdoms and the internal conflicts we experience.

While I may be reading into it, I think Divakaruni used the title, as well as Krishna’s character, to allude to the idea that our human experience is a “palace of illusions”—in which we suffer, forgetting our spiritual origin. However, the allusion, if there at all, is so subtle as to be nearly non-existent. Maybe Divakaruni didn’t want to turn people off with religion? It seems like she could have used Krishna a little more—not to preach or moralize—but to convey that slippery way that we experience the tension between duty and desire and what is true to us.

Divakaruni takes you to ancient India with her rich and sensual writing. And, even though the author did not include much reference to the original spiritual content, I think she might have opened the door for me to revisit the Bhagavad Gita. I wonder if it will have such a strong pulse? Maybe I’ll have to read it and then revisit The Palace of Illusions again!


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Making kombucha is dangerous!

A couple years ago a friend of mine gave me a kombucha mushroom. Technically, it’s yeast and bacteria. People just call it a mushroom, because that's what it looks like. It is easy to brew and easy to share, as it self-propagates. Kombucha alchemy! I was excited!

I sent one of my babies to a faraway friend. I had to send it in its juice to keep it alive. Then I had to seal it really well and surround it in bubble wrap and paper, disguising it to bypass postal regulations. It was a little nerve-wracking, because you could feel it sloshing and smell the slight vinegary liquid! I felt subversive but excited to be sharing something that keeps on giving. It's satisfying. If you like kombucha, I recommend brewing it. There are several places to purchase it online. I haven't bought it this way before, tho' and can't really recommend anyone.

I brewed for a long time, but when I went on vacation one year, I came home and found my mushrooms gone! That’s a story I won’t go into here. ANYWAY, I decided to try again, even though I don’t have a mushroom. I decided to try brewing with just the starter drink. We’ll see if it works. I’ll let you know when it’s done.

Kombucha Tea
adapted from experience, the internet and...
Kombucha Miracle Fungus: The Essential Handbook by Harald Tietze

Boil enough water for a teapot. Add 4 bags of organic black tea. At this time you can add fresh herbs (equal parts of yarrow, dandelion, stinging nettle, elder, and raspberry leaves). I haven't braved it yet, because the book I mentioned above indicated that this might create a medium for undesirable mold.

And ¾ - 3 C (1/4-1 C per quart) white, granulated sugar to tea. Through fermentation white sugar gets transformed into lactic acid and alcohol.

Stir until dissolved.

Let steep for 10 minutes. Then remove teabags. Let sit until room temperature.

Pour into a sterilized, widemouth glass container.

Add 1 C kombucha tea (or 2 tablespoons of cider or white wine vinegar).

Add the remainder of filtered water to bring the total amount to 10 cups. Fill to within 1 ½ inches from the top of the container.

Place the fungus in the liquid smooth side up. Cover the container with muslin and anchor with elastic. Stand container in a dark, warm place (70-84 degrees) or use a heated brewing mat. Since it's so warm here already, I didn't use a heating pad. And I just use this craft corner in my bedroom, because it's clean, dark and undisturbed.

Check after 4 or 5 days. Your kombucha tea will be ready in 5-10 days (depending on the temperature). With clean hands, remove fungus onto a plate. Strain ferment into bottles, leaving air space at the top. Keep in refrigerator. Separate the offspring (produced by binary fission) and reuse. Each fungus can be reused 4-5 times. Or place in an airtight container, cover with some brew, leaving room at the top, and store for 3-6 months.

Post script: I knelt on the floor in my bedroom to take the last picture for you all. When I went to get up, my toe caught in my pant leg...and I...went...flying! Because I had my camera in hand, I couldn't break my fall and crashed into my closet door. My glasses smashed into my face and were covered in paint and scratches. And I got a gnarly bump on my forehead. I've had a killer headache since then. Hopefully it's just coffee withdrawals. Making kombucha is dangerous!