Summer's Bounty

Sunset on the farm

Lettuce row

The warm weather may be gone, but the memories of this past summer are still as fresh as the veggies I spent the past few months growing (and eating, and planting, and weeding, and weeding, and picking, and washing, and packing.... there's a lot more work that goes into your salad than you might realize!)

The light on the farm was just incredible... every day was another glorious sky, changing from opalescent pinks and oranges in the morning to bright, buttery mid-day and egg-yolk yellow afternoon, all culminating in a glorious riot of sunset before fading to star-crested indigo as the last rays faded across the lake.

We held the last CSA pickup in mid-October, before the frost took out the last brave greens, and and held a beautiful bonfire and potluck to celebrate. Looking back at the photos Scott took, I'm struck by how generous the land and people and animal & plant friends were to us this year.

It was hard work at times, but it was glorious. What a wonderful, whirlwind, madcap couple of seasons - and there's just more magic to come!

Here are a few highlights from the archives:

Above:Houdini the Wonder Chicken,

Escape artist nonpareil!
Below: Making her escape...

Evening over the greenhouse.

clouds at sunset

the sheep

rotating the pasture

still wet kale...

The farm - my summer home-away-from-home

Farmer Matt (one of our wonderful 

employer-teacher-mentors)...

probably bringing treats to the sheep.

just one of the glorious pick-your-own herbs.

freshly harvested for the CSA pickup 

Blessings and love,
Blackbird's Daughter

Hey, Barry? It's us.

"...You know, the folks who elected you? Yeah, you too, thanks. Hey listen, we need you to save the world. Like, STAT."

(painting by Alex Ross, alexrossart.com)

Or at least, that's how I hope it works. Anyway, here's his number: (202) 456-1111.
Seriously.
You can also try the switchboard at (202) 456-1414.
Either way, you better call quick, because the vote that will obliterate organics worldwide is going down within the next 24 hours in favor of Monsanto, Obama's the only one who can stop it, and no, that's not hyperbole.
Here's the latest update according to Food Democracy Now!:

Since Secretary Vilsack’s decision last December called for either full deregulation (approval) or a plan for co-existence between GMOs and organics and left out the option to unconditionally reject Monsanto’s GMO alfalfa, the only person that could make the decision to reject GMO alfalfa is President Obama.
Unfortunately, the Obama administration’s plan for co-existence is totally unworkable as family farmers and scientists readily admit. Contamination is not something that is predicted to happen, it already has.
According to Don Huber PhD, professor emeritus at Purdue University and APS coordinator for the USDA's National Plant Disease Recovery System genetic contamination will completely pollute organic and conventional alfalfa.
"Just from the gene flow, within five years of Roundup Ready alfalfa, there will be no such thing as non-Roundup Ready alfalfa, regardless of restrictions government puts on it," says Huber, PhD, widely regarded as an expert in plant disease and biology.
Tell President Obama that this is unacceptable and that you elected him to take courageous stands to protect family farmers, our food supply and our environment.

If you click the above link, you'll find both numbers, as well as a script you can use if you don't want to use mine :) Please call!

Top Five Best Kept Secrets About Tulum, Mexico (On the Cheap)

Here´s a sample article I wrote for an online travel mag. Enjoy!
..............................................

If you´re contemplating a visit to Tulum, Mexico, no doubt you´ve found your way to the many travel sites designed to lure you towards the perfect beaches, Mayan ruins, and underground cave-diving expeditions that await the adventurous, off-the-beaten-Cancun-path traveler - for a price, of course. Before you change those hard-earned US dollars into soon-to-be-spent pesos, however, here´s a list of ways to enjoy Tulum on the cheap, designed to keep you -and your wallet- full, happy, and ready to toast "¡Viva la Mexico!" over your next 2-for-1 margarita.
1) Eat local and you´ll eat well. Expect to pay steep American prices on the beach, slightly less outrageous ones on the main drag, and next to nothing at either end of town, where you can find good tamales and tacos for less than one US dollar, and fresh fruit popsicles for even less. Speaking of fruit, don´t overlook the fruiterias, or fruit markets, either, where a couple of bucks can keep you hydrated and in taste-bud heaven for days. As for las bebidas, keep an eye out for billboards offering drink specials - you´ll find plenty of half-price Margaritas and Cuba Libres (rum and coke with lime) all along the main street.
2) Bargains abound (but you wouldn´t know it from the price tags). As a tourist town, Tulum is priced accordingly, but fear not - with the right expression of indifference and "un poquito Español", a handmade hammock marked for eleven hundred pesos in the morning can easily be gotten for four fifty right at the end of the day. Though prices at the grocery stores and restaurants are fixed, everything else is fair game for a haggle - including taxis, if you catch them anywhere other than the main street. (Hint: plan on souvenir shopping on Sunday, when all the other shops are closed and the few open vendors are looking to make a sale).
3) Mayab, the locals´ bus. If you want a cheep ride from Tulum to Cobá, Playa del Carmen, or even Cancun, Mayab bus line is the way to go. A 250 peso taxi ride from downtown to Cobá will cost you twenty-two pesos on Mayab; even less if you catch it from the grocery store at the end of town. Another common option is hitchhiking; locals do it all the time, follow suit at your own risk.
4) The ruins are overrated (and other tourism sacrilege). While beautiful, the Mayan ruins at Tulum are overcrowded and disappointingly cordoned-off. For a more authentic, adventurous look at the architecture of the ancient Mayans, take the bus to Cobá, where you can rent bicycles and ride among the jungle ruins, stopping to climb a pyramid or wander through an ancient ball court at your leisure.
5) No guide, no problem. Between the locals, the international tourists, and the large number of expats who call Tulum "home", the town is filled with friendly, helpful people who are happy to point you toward good deals and fun adventures. And whether you´re traveling by yourself or with a group, a smile and an invitation to share a drink are all you need to find good company for any number of day trips, nighttime dancing, and future adventures - wherever your wanderlust takes you.

Snowed In In Florida (Jacksonville)

Season's Greetings from Jacksonville, Florida, where I'm enjoying that gluttonous, post-party feeling that comes from A) stuffing myself with really good vegetarian food and B) drinking what amounts to a cocktail's worth of tinctures (I like to call it my daily Tonic-tini), and wishing you all a heavenly Christmas.

So I've put about 5,000 miles on the odometer in the past five months, what with the whole "making friends out of strangers and plant-medicine out of weeds" adventure I've been on. Between the stories in this journal and the other encounters and escapades not fit for a blog (but maybe a book?), I'm finally ready to go back North and see what I can write. And plan. And make manifest.
But first, there's this pre-Christmas blizzard to contend with. You know, there's a sort of irony that comes with getting snowed in in Florida, but it's nothing compared to the surreal feeling I got this evening driving through the outskirts of Jacksonville. The streets had a vintage feel to them, and the neon lights and trails of sunset transformed the neighborhood landmarks and gray city blocks into a movie set of three-dimensional Edward Hopper paintings. Each building looked like it was its own perfect model; miniature diners and crab shacks and Mexican markets rendered in well-lit, perfectly painted plasticine.
Driving back over the bridge after catching the dusk-end closing of the 365 days-a-year farmer's market, we stopped at a tiny corner drive-through and walk-up restaurant for ice cream sundaes. The building was shaped like a soft-serve ice cream cone, and looked more like a Disney World prop than an actual restaurant. I wish I still had a camera; it was one of those perfect life-as-art moments.

Driving to Jacksonville, I found myself chanting Hare Krishna along to every song that came on the radio. For a while, tuned to a really great classic rock station, it felt like I was part of some incredible traveling Kirtan, singing along with Supertramp and Guns N Roses as we simultaneously warded off and extolled Kali Yuga, the current age of strife. I wasn't counting along on my prayer beads, but I'm pretty sure I chanted an entire round to the end of Free Bird.
It was great. I know it doesn't count as Japa (using beads to chant the Mahamantra with intention), but for a while there, cruising along the Florida panhandle, drinking horchata and fingering my new mala, I had a grand old time. At Blue Boy Herbs, one of the girls and I would sing the Mahamantra to Beatles songs (Eleanor Rigby was the decided favorite), but that's nothing compared to belting it out to traditional Christmas carols like The Bells of Paradise (Down in Yon Forest). That one's definitely my new favorite.

Both of the friends that I drove here to visit are guys I met on this trip, gentle men with interesting perspectives and stories. Andreas is a Mexican-born artist I met in a hostel made of tree houses this past Halloween. Before he moved down here to go to school, he was a professional massage therapist in the Berkshires, and before that, he served in the Mexican army.
Blake is down here for school, too. An herb-smart former Marine-turned-hippie who came down South after Katrina hit, he and I met at the Essential Herb Cottage this Thanksgiving. Blake worked herbs with Linda for several years, and as far as she and Whitney are concerned he's as much a part of the family as any blood or by-marriage kin.
Both of these guys like good food, a fact I'm relishing after two weeks spent completely surrounded by amazing vegetarian food. Between cooking kidgeree and pumpkin soup at the Essential Herb Cottage, walking down the lane to Darrell Martin's cabin for lunch every day, and taking prasadam at New Talavan, my tummy and taste buds have been seriously blessed in Mississippi. After a certain number of lovingly crafted veg-head meals, its just makes sense to continue the meatless love-fest. Karma or no karma, there are so many amazing meals you can make out of plants, why bother the cows?
Last night, Blake and I went to Andreas' apartment for dinner. The menu: sweet potatoes, baby winter squash and eggplant broiled in a home-made spice rub, served with red Swiss chard, Andreas' Ayurvedic lentils, and bottles of Guinness' super-tasty new anniversary stout. (The Wandering Herbalist's opinion? Less hops than the original, but still enough to send me right to sleep!)
Tonight's dinner came almost exclusively from the Farmer's Market: oven grilled corn on the cob, pan-seared mushrooms seasoned with Montreal Spice mix, steamed mustard greens with Bragg's liquid amino acids, oven-baked sweet potatoes, biscuits, and fried bananas for dessert.
Yumm....

Broiled Sweet Potatoes, Baby Winter Squash & Eggplant

Chop one small winter squash, leave the skin on, and scoop out the seeds. Cube one small eggplant and add to the bowl, along with one large sliced sweet potato. Coat with olive oil, 1 1/2 tablespoons Bragg's liquid amino acids, and -in no particular order or quantity- the following spices:
Himalayan sea salt and freshly ground pepper
Fresh rosemary, parsley and oregano
Ground ginger, garlic, paprika, and cayenne.
Marinate in the spice rub, then spread out on a baking sheet, pour in about 1/2 cup of water, and bake at 450 or so, stirring occasionally until caramelized and delicious.

Hare Krishna, y'all!

I'm on my way to visit Blue Boy Herbs and the New Talavan community for a few days. Here's a quick video from Thanksgiving at Blue Boy Herbs... the man with white hair is Darrell Martin, founder of Blue Boy Herbs, and the woman at the end of the video is Lynda Baker. Her magical kiddo is the one radiating purple light (a phenomenon that hadn't happened before on my camera, hasn't happened since, and isn't likely to happen again, since I recently broke it and haven't gotten a new one yet - ah well, c'est la vie...



Of all the religious places I've visited, the Hare Krishnas have the best music and vegetarian food (though I still miss Mrs. Dietz's cooking!)....as Lynda says, "Thank you Jesus for the food, and thank you Krishna for Jesus!"

Mary Poppins (coming soon to a driveway near you)

Whitney, 10-year-old extraordinaire and daughter of the herbalist I'm staying with, asked me yesterday if I used some sort of magic spell on my car.

I probably do. The sheer quantity of stuff I've fit in my little teal home-on-wheels has earned it comparisons from "a magic bag" to "a traveling Walmart" (you know, if Walmart carried mostly organic stuff, gave it away, and supported the Dixie Chicks...). I prefer to think of it as a cross between a prairie schooner and a three dimensional Tetris game.

The list of things that I have in my car is pretty varied (who else roams around with gold flakes and henna?), but almost all of it falls into one of five categories: Herbs, Ingredients, Clothing, Camping/Household Supplies, and Entertainment & Education(Books/Music/Art). Since most of what I own fits in those groups anyway, even when I'm not playing nomad, this allows me ample opportunities to announce my favorite travel phrase: "Ooh, I have some in my car!"

Lynda and Whitney have taken to calling me Mary Poppins.

In no particular order, here's a sampling of the things people have idly wished for or seemed to need that my car has immediately procured:

-whiskey
-veggies
-a blanket
-maple syrup
-a Verizon cell phone & chargers
-good chocolate
-a jacket
-ceremonial tobacco
-hair tonic
-cold remedies
-spice and herb blends
-books
-pens
-makeup
-informational pamphlets
-fresh fruit
-henna
-skin salves
-sweaters
-herbal emennagogues
-allopathic medicine
-honey
-olive oil
-all natural conditioner
-soy milk
-empty bottles
-empty jars
-CDs
-sleep remedies
-dried herbs and spices
-seaweed
-a sewing kit
-a lighter
-dental floss
-rope

This happens all the time, but I've never run out of what I need.

My theory is that as long as our hands are open, we're conduits for the Universe's blessings, messages, lessons, and gifts. As soon as we try to hold onto what we have, we lose the capacity to receive what we need.

I'm not saying give away the things, time, or energy you don't want to part with. There are times when it makes sense to protect and defend that which you need and want or are holding in reserve, to say "No" to that which is asked, offered, or demanded. But to do so bears a cost, as does every choice, and it pays to be aware of the exchanges we're engaged in, both miniscule and grand.

Think about your life and ask yourself: Do you want what you have, or are you willing to consider an upgrade?

"Spicing Up the Holidays with Sarah" photos

The insanely talented Peggy of Peggy Wiltz Photography was at White Oaks the other day for our seminar, and sent us our first batch of pictures. The above one is my favorite; I feel very professional! Sarah (of HERBS by Sarah) was kind enough to share her audience, so we made one of my favorite holiday recipes: Real Peppermint & White Chocolate Bark...yum!

It was a great crowd, and a really fun experience!

Peggy's off touring with a ballet company now, but if you're looking for a great freelance photographer, check her out; I really like her work.

2:45 AM (Baton Rouge)

Ugggh, it's way too late to be up, and Sarah and I have a cooking & herb show to do tomorrow, but I'm STILL AWAKE. Grrr.
I shall now post a picture of the best bumpersticker ever, courtesy of Dave's truck:

Go, Peacemobile, go! You keep on truckin' those crazy hippie veggies.
And now for some more random Pennsylvania shots:

Them'ns are the inestimable Miss Pickles & the stupendously fantastic Katie. Who wouldn't want to live in Pennsylvania with people like them around?
Not to mention these fine folks, my gracious hosts on the farm (from the left, Myron, Lois, and Dave):
Seriously good people, and salt of the earth, as evidenced by Dave's super high powered state-of-the-art farm equipment:
Namely, strong hands and hard work. BTW, those rows? The ones Dave laboriously plowed, and we all filled by hand and shovel with shallots and garlic? Completely dug up by the free range chickens. Incidentally, I hear guinea fowl eat bugs but don't dig dig. But are they as soft? Hmmmm....

So, top secret news flash: I love aprons. Seriously, seriously love them.
Between the professional ones and the fun ones, I've got at least four, though I neglected to take either of my favorites along (I have a maroon "kitchen witch" one that Hunter got me and a short-n-frilly 1950's hostess one that I love). Anyway, Mrs. Dietz loaned me this one: It was so soft and well-loved, I wanted to curl up inside one of the pockets and stay there. Wearing it made me think of kittens and gingerbread and canning veggies barefoot. Well, not really, but it did come in handy when baking pumpkin spice muffins with cardamom frosting, cooking picnic breakfasts, butchering roosters and whatnot. And speaking of breakfasts: Cinnamon swirl french toast, scrambled veggies and eggs, and homefries al fresco, as nommed with the much loved and lovely Jolene and her sweetly serious Avery, who was very focused on houses. He and I built a log cabin with 9 windows out of tinkertoys the day we killed the roosters. He was there for the whole process (and the next night when we skinned a buck and fed the carcass to Scotty's pet couger). Obviously, Kiddo was tremendously scarred by the whole experience: Seriously, though, that rooster went from stump to sink (with a few stops in between) in about 2 hours, and from there directly into the dinner pot, which is not only the freshest meat I've ever eaten, but really puts those cellophane-wrapped factory-raised birds into perspective. After catching the birds (no easy feat - next time I'ma nab 'em while they're sleeping), Dave positioned their heads between two nails so they couldn't move. "Hmmm, well that's one less cock to deal with..." Seriously, us Yankees find the humor in everything. (Then we set our mouths stoically and go back to work).After the bodies were drained, they were dunked in boiling water to loosen the feathers for plucking.
Then Mrs. Dietz lit a small fire and singed the last few hairs off.
Ok, this is weird but true: roosters have hairs, or at least hairlike somethings. Not a lot, but enough to notice once they're plucked. Does anybody know about this phenomenon? If so, please explain; I was certainly surprised to find them there. Mmmm mmm mmm, them's some good eatins. Incidentally, notice the size of the chest, drumsticks, etc.? Chickens are not supposed to have a pound of breast meat per bird; they're supposed to run around and chase each other and make very brief landings and take-offs when necessary, and that means not being too top-heavy to walk. In other words, this was a healthy, "normal" (or at least how nature intended him to be) rooster.
And he was delicious. Especially with green curry and coconut over rice.
So yeah, that was my farm experience, and I loved it.

All right, all you cats and kittens, it's time for this sleepy muffin (as Em is wont to say) to finally go to bed so I can be bright eyed and bushy tailed in a few hours! Oyasuminasai...

Things to Smile About (the Alabama version)

1. Bar-B-Q ribs. Hallelujah, Lordamighty, thank You for creating pigs and hickory smoke, and may I always appreciate the deliciousness of your bounty (and strive to eat piggies who were raised and killed with respect). Amen.


2. Nice waitstaff. Like, genuinely friendly waitstaff.
Last night, as my friend Adam and I waxed ecstatic over the I-found-Jesus-in-the-bottom-of-a-bottle-of-barbecue-sauce dinner, our waiter explained the whole smoking process to us, then came back to offer sweet tea and extra corn muffins for the road, and lingered to chat for a good twenty minutes after that.
This is in stark contrast to the stoned counter-boys and resentful, pasty-skinned waitresses we have up North. Down here, they look you in the eyes, smile, and ask you to come back soon. Back home, if your server hasn't already spat in your food through her unbrushed smoker's teeth by the time she sullenly drops your change on the counter, you can bet dollars to Dunkin' Donuts she was thinking about about it.

3. Space to make art, dear and talented friends to teach us, and master artists to inspire us...all of which can be found at Adam's pottery haven, aka Cahaba Clay Works.
I remember Adam's mugs from the year we worked together in Human Services Land (conveniently located smack dab in the middle of the Bog of Eternal Paperwork, just inland from the shores of Bureaucrae Sea). It was a magical place, but when he left, things felt pretty barren without his "c'mon guys, this life business is a really cool thing, but you gotta get your shit together if you wanna do it right" method of social work. Luckily for everyone who stayed behind, as a parting gift he made us a set of beautifully rounded, lovingly decorated mugs with the school's name written on their sides in glaze.
I used those mugs every single day with my students, and usually had at least one or two waiting on my bookshelf next to the tea and honey as vessels for our special, beginning-of-class ritual. For at least a year of my life, Tension Tamer tea and those mugs went together like IEPs and community-based education, so it's really exciting to see the new pieces he's working on, and to drink from an Adam Mug again. His motifs have changed, the craftsmanship's grown finer, and he's got a new signature at the bottom of his pieces, but the style's still all Adam.

4. Wooded trails, the kind with crinkly leaves and giant acorns and Popsicle stick bridges over streams. Today we took the dogs for a hike in Oak Mountain State Park. It was a perfect fall day, the kind with paper bag leaves and sunlight that shines with the consistency of 1% milk, as artless and lovely as a shoebox diorama.

5. Human-animal interactions. Adam and Sue are Dog People, and their pups are as well-loved and cherished as any child I've ever met. And while I must admit it's a new-to-me way of understanding pet ownership, it's a beautiful one. Like today, how instead of leaving the older dog who can't walk well at home, her dad looped a terrycloth sash under her belly for support and took her on a mini-walk, before bringing her back to the car so the other, younger dog could have a chance to gallop off and find dead things to roll in.
And boy, did he. I'll tell you, that's one thing Padme the Wonderbunny never put me through. Though there was that whole cecotropes thing...still, stinky stuff in small doses is easy to handle -no pun intended from this cleaning lady- and it did give me fodder for another "someday I'll make this" t-shirt: a picture of a rabbit with the caption "Cecotropes: everybunny's doin' it."
Insert awkward pause here. At least Dave laughs at my jokes, right, Dave? Dave...?
Regardless, whether it's the four-legged babies in this house, or Dave's Rhode Island Reds (sorry Americanas, that whole 'favorites' thing just sorta happened), the sweet and daily ways we coexist with 'all our relations' are such earthly, intimate blessings.
That alone is worth its own listing.

6. 'To all my relations'. In Lakota, 'all my relations' translates to 'Mitayuke oyasin.' More than just an encompassing phrase, it is a prayer and recognition of unity; an acknowledgment of the collective and each of our roles within the whole.

Mitayuke oyasin. Namaste. Shalom.
To all my relations, the spirit within me bows to the spirit within you. Peace and Welcome.

Truth like this runs deeper and farther than any language or nation can ever hold.

7. Herbal wisdom. Susannah from the Rosemary House taught me to make Four Thieves Vinegar, and I gave it to friends in Pennsylvania. I told some Georgia folks about it and have promised to make some for Adam and Sue, too. Not five minutes ago, I met a couple in the tea isle of Whole Foods as they looked around for something to help get rid of the husband's flu. I told them about Four Thieves, the wife whipped out a notebook, wrote it down, and they stopped by later on to double check the recipe and go over some more suggestions before heading home. (If you're reading this, I hope you're getting lots of rest and feeling better - and email me at jessicabellantone@yahoo.com with any questions; I'll do my novice best to try and answer).
Why was I in the tea isle in the first place? Because the cashier and I got to talking, and she wanted to know what I was doing down in Burmingham, so I told her I'm traveling around learning about herbalism.
"Are you a botonist?" she asked.
"No, I'm a beginning herbalist," I replied, to which she asked, "Is that like a real thing?"
Honey, it's exactly like a real thing, but better.
I love it when people are curious about what I do, almost as much as I love it when people let me learn about their passions and trades. And I really love the inevitable questions that follow, namely "What can I take for ____?" Tonight, I got to explain what herbalism is to a young and crampy woman, and help her reclaim her natural birthright and connection to the healing herbs that help our moontime cycles. And that, my friends, was why I was in the tea isle to begin with.
Folks, I know so very little, but the more I travel, the more I realize that the few and tiny grains of wisdom I carry in my cupped and barely-weathered hands are different from the handfuls all you fellow travelers hold. And right now, I've scooped up all that I can pick up up on my own; the only ways to get more are to hold out my hands to the rest of the world, giving and receiving as the adventure unfolds, until the next time I bend down, let the bits I've gathered flow through my fingers, and dig, waiting to see what new joys get unearthed.
Mitayuke Oyasin.

Elderberry Syrup (Mechanicsburg PA)

(A Rosemary House Harvest: Susanna (aka Mary Poppins) with Elderberry Syrup and me with Hops Tincture)

Though time consuming, elderberry syrup is one of those "simplicity itself" recipes. It's incredibly effective at warding off the cold or flu, helps your body heal itself quickly if you do get sick, and above all (according to Susanna's "Mary Poppins' School of Medicine" mentality) it tastes delicious. It also tops my list as the most meditative concoction I've ever made. In addition to all the healthful immunity-boosting anthocyanins (those potent, purple antioxidants), elderberries also contain concentrated lessons in patience.
From harvesting the last clusters of berries from the top of the tree, to gently stripping them from their umbels, to reducing, flavoring and bottling the final product, it was a time-consuming process, though one that's impossible to resent. If you want to get this: you have to do this:.
And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.
If you're lucky enough to have access to a tree, set aside a couple of hours and harvest those last few berry-bunches of the season and bring them on in. When they're finally simmering away with the honey and spices, the warm, scented steam will infiltrate your home and heart with tender, caretaking feelings, and your head will fill with thoughts of all the good the syrup will bring to those you share it with. Elderberry syrup is nothing if not a labor of love.

SPICED ELDERBERRY SYRUP

2 parts elderberries
2 parts water
1 part honey (plus a little extra, just 'cause)
ginger, cinnamon, cardamon, nutmeg, vanilla, or any other warming spices you desire

Simmer berries and water, covered, over medium heat for 20 minutes, or until it starts to reduce. Stir in honey and spices, mashing berries as you go, and cover for 5-10 more minutes. Remove from stove and pour through cheesecloth or metal strainer, making sure to press tightly at the end to get all the concentrated juice out of the "dregs." Pour into jars or cans, LABEL (very important in Susanna's kitchen!), and refrigerate for up to 4 weeks.
Take 1 Tablespoon daily; 2 at the first sign of sickness and/or until well again.

Mushroom, Wild Greens, and Buckwheat Noodle Soup (Phoenicia NY)

Contrary to what previous posts might have you believe, I'm not always all about the crazy-unhealthy food. In fact, my first morning after leaving Bard, I made a pretty healthy riverside breakfast:

Mushroom, Wild Greens, and Buckwheat Noodle Soup

1 large handful of wild greens (dandelion, plantain, etc.)
3-4 dried (or fresh) mushrooms, broken into bite-sized pieces
1 small summer squash, sliced
a small handful of udon noodles
instant miso soup
2 cups water

Heat water and mushrooms, covered, to boiling. Stir in miso, add vegetables, and push down noodles until submerged. Simmer, covered, for about 4 minutes, or until the noodles are soft.
As they cool, any left-over noodles will soak up the broth and make a sort of instant casserole, aka lunch, which is more than you can ask of most foods.

Oh, see those super-cute chopsticks? I'm down to one now. As I was climbing down to the river's edge, I lost the other in the current - whoops! It was kind of a nifty accident, though, because I spent the next hour or so whittling a new set that I like even more than the old one.

Some more photos from Phoenicia, NY:

(the view outside my "bedroom" window)

(Morning harvest, clockwise from top: leaves to press, leaves to infuse in oil [mullein], seeds to dry [sunflower], and leaves to steep [lemon balm].)

(post-breakfast; obviously heart-broken over my lost o-miyage)

(bark and leaves in the river - can you see the mask?)

Garlic Fest! (Saugerties NY)

I am such the smelly hippie right now.
By which I mean I smell delicious.
Today I went with Evan and his lovely friend Jane to the wonderfully antique-shop-and-used-bookstore-laden town of Saugerties, for the annual Hudson Valley Garlic Festival!

Here's a short list of some -not all- of the foods we tried:
garlic ice cream
garlic and butter pizza
garlic-stuffed olives
garlic-flavored pickles
pickled garlic scapes (three varieties)
pickled garlic cloves (about a bazillion kinds)
garlic scape pesto
garlic and basil pesto
garlicky dips, dips, dips, dips, and more dips (did I mention dips?)
raw garlic (about 6 different kinds)
garlic and marscapone cannolis
garlic and honey infused balsamic vinegar
garlic infused olive oil
garlic jerkey

...you get the idea. By the time we left the fairgrounds and got back in the car, we were so saturated with garlic, I smelled like an Italian restaurant, though that may have something to do with the bag of delicious Spanish Roja garlic bulbs that I bought.
After the Garlic Festival, we went over to Annie and Vlad's place for a while, which was a nice treat - Annie and Vlad are two of Evan's friends that came to visit this summer, and we had a great time down at Hampton Beach playing ski-ball in the arcades and drinking enormous frozen drinks on the second-floor balcony of a skeevy dive bar. It was fantastic.

...I keep sniffing my arm, just to test, and I'm happy to report that I still smell like a breadstick. A really tasty breadstick.
And now I'm kind of hungry again.

Taste Testing with Grandma (Salisbury MA)

Guess how old the lady next to me is:What would you think: 80? 85? Would you guess 87? Add a decade and you'd have it: this here is my amazing Grandma Ruth, 97 years old and still willing to go for a drive down the coast to taste-test cruddy beach side pizzas with my parents and me! What a trooper!!
Here she is with my dad, waiting for my mom and I to return with our first samples:
The verdict: Ick (but no worse than you'd expect). So I grabbed a bag of salt water taffey, and we drove off to test some from the next place.
An obvious winner.

Boston, MA

So I'm in Boston, and once again posting in the middle of the night.
It's been an interesting visit so far, and I'm looking forward to visiting the Mount Auburn Cemetery, where all the different kinds of trees are labeled. Just think: labeled trees and a cemetery, all in one place!
I really enjoy a good graveyard; the way the stones lichen over and the light coats the tops of the monuments, throwing the carvings into bass relief. I like struggling to make out the epitaphs and old-fashioned names on the weathered granite markers; like reading all the bits of poetry and psalms and hints about the people whose bodies I'm walking above. I also like how there are no crowds. Well, I suppose there are, but they do tend to keep quiet.
(That reminds me of the scene in The Meaning of Life when Death comes to the dinner party and tells the dead Americans to "shut up!" As Richard likes to say, "Ahh, good times.")
On an unrelated note, I tried caviar today. The verdict: fishy and salty, with a mildly fun sort of "pop!" to it. But I didn't eat the salmon mousse.
Speaking of food (and when am I not?), here's some more fun with fruit:

Bananas really lend themselves to faces. And quotations. I bet they'd be a great canvass for pin-
etching...

An added update: I never did end up going to the Cemetery. But I had a bang-up time exploring Mission Hill, the Museum of Fine Arts, some parks, an inter-tribal Pow Wow, and even a giant outdoor folk-song sing-along celebration called RiverSong, led by the Cambridge Revels, to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. And I met a bunch of really amazing people...live ones, to boot!