First Child vs. Second Child

1st Child- OMG she's standing! Look look! She's about to take her first step! She just walked! SHE! JUST! WALKED! (balloons, pictures, cake, blog post) 2nd Child- oh hey buddy. oh you're walking now? hey can you hand me that water since you're closer? Good job kiddo. 1st Child- Look at this cute outfit I bought for you. So cute. 2nd Child- What, you can't wear this stained lavender shirt? What do you mean? There's no such thing as "boy colors" or "girl colors"! 1st Child- Oh you want me to read you another book? This one? Since we've been doing this for an hour and I don't mind reading the same children's books for hours on end? Once upon a time... 2nd Child- Can you ask your sister to read it to you since she's been literate for most her life and I'm not finished with my coffee? or do you want pbskids.org? Don't pity the boy- the fact of the matter is this second child of mine is incredibly fun loving, independent, resilient and industrious. My first child values perfection. My second child values relevance. But they are reaping the pros and cons of their birth order with pizzazz.

Old-A People

A couple days ago my mom left for Korea to hang with her mom, my Halmoni, for her 96th birthday. For years I could never get a straight answer about when my grandma's birthday was. And my mom's vagueness never struck me as odd until this time around when she bought a ticket for her birthday because I thought it had already passed. Turns out my grandmother has been ticking off her birthdays according to the LUNAR CALENDAR and that's why it's sometimes in early January, mid-January, and apparently, even way over in February. This is no joke. I love my grandmother with all my heart. Her family nickname, here in the states at least, is Yoda because she is that old, that short, and that wise. This is my mother's fifth trip to Korea in less than 4 years to bid farewell to her mother because one of the other siblings thought she was at death's door. As far as I can remember though, my grandmother has sworn she already was at death's door, but it's different when it comes from somebody else. I mourned most for her on the trip 3 times ago because I really did think it was going to happen. People may think this is all funny, just some old ass Korean grandmother whose time has come for cryin out loud, but for me, the thought of her passing just kills me a little bit every time. Imagine the most stately tree in your town, having seen in its life what no one else has, living through how many seasons to become something truly to behold: regal and knowing. That's how I see my grandmother. I'd never want to see that tree get cut down, and then imagine hearing that it had to go, you'd at least hope it would be made into something GOOD and BEAUTIFUL, and not just something stupid made of wood. That's how I feel.

Stories by Toddlers

Si: Once upon a time, there was a brother and a sister who went for a walk. And he found ice cream and he ate it. And then he found a bad guy and he ate him. And then he found their father and he keeped him. And then they found their mother who was the bluest bird in the whole... world. The End!

Stinkers

Yah, that's you! How is it that I can't even GIVE away a worm bin. I'll try again in a few months when enough of you come to the realization that you were sorely mistaken by not seizing the opportunity when you had it. Roar! In the meantime, I leave you with this picture of thimbleberry jam I found in the back of the freezer. This tiny 4oz jar represents an hour on the trail during the height of thimbleberry season - one of the many joys of living in Bellingham, WA. Sweet, crunchy, creamy summertime bliss. If you've never had a thimbleberry, I feel even more sorry for you than for not wanting to be a worm farmer.

!100th Post Giveaway!

To celebrate 100 posts here, I would like to offer a free gift to a random reader--Korean Mexican Italian style! Since my last post, our worms have seriously grown in number and consumed much of our kitchen waste. I'm so happy to reduce our contribution to landfills (organic materials can break down to liquid form, possibly picking up all kinds of toxic waste and leaching into water tables below) and turn waste--2 whole watermelon rinds, apple cores from 2 bags of apples, corn on the cob cobs, egg shells, coffee and tea, asparagus ends, banana peels, old lettuce and celery, etc. so far and it's only been a couple weeks-- into a nutrient dense compost. I want so much for everybody I know to try worm composting that I'd like to offer a free worm kit to somebody through this blog. If you're interested, please leave a comment in this post and I will randomly pick a winner by my next post. I'll buy the bin, put in ventilation holes, add bedding and a starter batch of red wriggler worms for you. All you'll have to do is pick up or pay for shipping your ready to use worm bin! If you live within Bellingham city limits and have curbside compost pick up, you can always enter for a friend who doesn't. Thanks for commenting and good luck!

We Have Worms.

I can see it now, my poor child in 15 years: Dear University Admissions/Pen Pal/Therapist, etc. When I was growing up and wanted pet sea monkeys, my mother instead bought me a sprout kit. When I asked for a cat, she gave me composting worms... meet eisenia fetida.

Yes friends, we have worms. And we love them. Newspaper, toilet paper rolls and egg cartons that would normally go to recycling, as well as food scraps that would normally go to the land fill for eternity, are now being consumed by tiny red wrigglers who will in turn give us worm poop. This nutrient dense worm poop will become compost for the growth of happy plants.

We have had a worm bin before, but getting one going with the kids has been more exciting. They get to see, well, worms, but also the amazing transformation of waste into something even valuable. What we did: 1.Sacrifice kids' plastic (worms like it wet), opaque (worms like it dark), and 31 gal huge (we like our produce) toy bin. 2. Drill 1/8" holes on lid and tops of sides of bin.

Since we live in the wet PNW I thought our worms might need a little more ventilation. 3. Sacrifice one of many tea strainers as vent. The strain holes are small enough to keep the worms in, pests out, and the stainless steel won't rust. Cut out hole as big as the strainer.

4. Circle shape goes in circle hole.

5. Place strip of duct tape on bottom of a dinner plate and trace strainer with pen. Use razor blade (!cuidado!) to cut hole about 1/4" smaller in diameter. The perfect piece of tape to secure it.

6. Since the use of blades and tools was of utmost interest to the toddler, and he would not get out of my way, I gave him this "special circle tape!" for promising he'd back off a little. This made him very happy. He did not back away.

7. Perfect.

8. Worms beware! The toddler from the worms' perspective.

9. Toss in gifted starter worm/compost (thanks P!), some food scraps we had on hand (watermelon rinds and coffee grounds and filter), and shredded paper products ("feed the ducks kids!"). 10. Try very hard for at least 3 days to leave worms alone. Concede that it's ok to check on them once a day. I read that worms thrive (and reproduce like crazy) at room temperature, so we're keeping these babies indoors for a little while to get them settled. Let me tell you friends, things are happening in there already! FYI, the compost does not stink. With the proper ratio of bedding, food, and moisture, it smells only like fresh dirt. There is absolutely no scent when the lid is on. This book was been a wonderful guide. And since I realize my next entry will be my 100th blog post, I'm thinking some sort of giveaway - perhaps something involving vermiculture- might be in order. Stay tuned for that!

Sprouting Seeds at Home

Isn't that lovely? Beautiful, healthful, organic sprouts that not only cost me pennies for the dollar compared to store brought sprouts, but are being consumed by everyone in the house ages 2 and up. I thought about getting the older child some pet sea monkeys but decided instead to go with a sprout kit. In calculating the precious-counter-top-space to benefit ratio, I decided something edible would be a much better investment. And they're still fun to watch! Also, since she is at the age when she enjoys 1) helping out, 2) playing with water, and 3) is able to play with water without too much spillage, she is also in charge of watering the sprouts daily. Effortless nutritious living sprouts! Go on now, you do the same!

Piroshky=0, Food-in-a-Blanket=1, in haiku

Oh you, you little piroshky,

How your mysterious dough eludes me and becomes food-in-a-blanket.

I spent the good part of Sat morning making various fillings for my birthday piroshky picnic. To the left you see an asparagus mushroom variety fried in oil, Braggs, and the last of our homemade mayonnaise.

This one is a special bean, beef, jalapeno variety for the husband.

The salmon dill onion filling was not very photogenic (the fact that I did post the Mexi style one is saying something). Authentic Piroshkies uh- Korean Mexican style! But what's with piroshky dough?! It is a mystery I may never solve. Do I at least get points for once again making a decent food-in-a-blanket?

The kiddos helped Mike with a delicious lemon yogurt cake. They mixed: 1.5c flour / 2tsp baking powder / 1c whole plain yogurt / 3/4c sugar / 3 eggs / 2 lemons (grated zest and juice, discard pulp and seeds) / 1tsp vanilla extract / 1/2 canola oil. Bake 350 in bread pan. I couldn't tell you how much they used (lots), but the glaze is part fresh squeezed lemon juice, sugar and cream cheese. This cake with coffee makes for the best breakfast the next day.

Piroshky Plans

Plans for a lemon glazed yogurt cake and piroshkies this weekend. Yay! I love that every culture has their own rendition of the versatile piroshky, filled sweet or savory, with protein or carbs, fruit or veggies. Growing up my mom made Korean ones with mandu-like fillings or sweetened beans. But nothing compares to a real piroshky. I'll never forget my first one years ago when a couple friends and I pooled all the change in our pockets in front of Piroshky Piroshky in Seattle's Public Market. We sat on the curb of Pike and Post Avenue, sharing one tiny potato mushroom and bringing our blood sugar back to agreeable heights (I recall some bickering pre-piroshky), before taking the bus back home. After college I ended up working a few blocks away from that curb and took my lunch breaks with the smoked salmon pate and coffee. I salivate at the memory. So far all attempts over the years for actually making that delicious meal pie have been more food-in-a-blanket-esque than piroshky, so any tips or recipes would be appreciated. Otherwise I plan to try one in Laurel's Kitchen, admittedly not very authentic, but from a book that my dear chain smoking 80-year-old neighbor just gave me.

Homemade Mayonnaise

A friend just gave me some beautiful eggs from her lovely chickens. Farm fresh eggs are the best! Bright orangey yolks that actually stand up a little in the pan. They taste nothing like the watery thin industrial ones you shouldn't be eating anyway.

Eggs this fresh also mean the possibility of homemade mayonnaise without anybody getting sick. All I have is a quick point and shoot - no filters or fancy equipment to make those yolks look so brightly orange. An organic diet, free ranged lifestyle (in view of Mt Baker helps) will do the trick. Also, neither can I believe I actually just bought a Cuisinart.

I've always preferred homemade mayo, but didn't want to take a gamble with store bought eggs. The ones we get at the coop from Cameno Island are probably fresh enough, but with eggs only a few hours old, I knew I could give it a go. Also, a handy trick I learned is to submerge your eggs in water. Ones that sink are fresh, ones that float should be thrown out, ones that stand on their end should get cooked and eaten today.

What I did:
1 farm fresh egg
1 Tbs white vinegar
1 rounded tsp real dijon mustard
pinch of salt

with the food processor on continuously, very slowly add 1 c olive oil. It took at least a couple minutes to slowly pour it in.

The taste is so impressive I immediately made another batch - below is the pint that ensued. Yes, pint. No, I did not think of that before hand. Friends are welcome to take home a helping within the next few days - it may be the most delicious mayonnaise you've ever had.

pesto d'urtica

Organic, free, and more healthful than anything you ate last week, foraged nettles are my new love. The weekend proved to be perfect timing for picking some on Bainbridge. But when I mentioned my plans to the Italian father in law, all I got was finger wagging and tsking. No, no, pesto pasta is an Italian institution not to be tainted with some hippie nettle sacrilege. So when I told him (lied) that the only recipe I could find was in Italian, he not only offered to translate, but decided to go with me, into the woods, to pick nettles.

To understand my surprise, and the rarity of this situation, you have to know one thing. My Italian American father in law may be the greatest indoorsman of his generation. His idea of an outdoor adventure is a passeggiata bookended by cappuccino and watching Rick Steves Italia on demand. To really rough it is to spend the weekend reading Dante's Inferno.

But there we two were heading to the forest, I in my hiking boots, he in his tasseled loafers and telling me of the backyard foraging traditions of his Nonnos way back when. Suddenly it seemed I was the one accompanying him to pick nettles for pesto d'urtica.

"I can't believe you're into this," I said.
"Of course, the Italians invented this."
You gotta love him.


God help me learn to follow a recipe some day, this is what I did:
Blanch nettles about one minute, reserving the liquid for tea.
Throw into the food processor: 1c-ish packed (water squeezed out) cooked nettles (since I broke off just the tips, I used stems and all), 1/2c pine nuts, grated parmesan, 2-3 cloves garlic and enough oil (I'll guess anywhere between 1/4 - 1/2c) to slide well with pasta. The homemade pasta, mind you.

The in-laws made some the night before and was cooked perfect al dente for supper. Their synergy was absolutely delightful, bar none the best pesto pasta I have ever had in my life. (Just as good: watching my kids pig out on the equivalent of bowl upon bowl of spinach. Mwa ha ha!)

Here is some pesto I saved for posterity - still as vibrant in color and taste, this photo is an insult to the real thing. I don't know why nettle pesto doesn't oxidize the way regular pesto will immediately after it's made (time lapse video anyone?) but my second batch is now 4 days old and still the color of lush green grass in the summertime. Good thing the Italians invented this!

Stinging Nettle Pesto (Korean Italian Pasta?)

Plans for nettle picking on Bainbridge this weekend. Yay! (And since I don't need another reason for the in-laws to think me weird, I may have to sneak out in the early morn to do it. Or is that weirder?)
I hope to gather several bags full to make a year's worth in Nettle Pesto. We are spending over a hundred bucks a year buying Costco's pesto, which is not unaffordable, but it is not organic, and it gets shipped from who knows where in small plastic jars. Pesto freezes very well, and though I've never actually tried nettle pesto, I've no doubt I will love it enough to make a good gallon or so for the year. I'll never forget the first time I had nettles, camping on Orcas Island, cooked right into a chunky marinara sauce. Mmm.
Stinging nettles look and taste almost identical to a nutrient-dense Korean leafy green called Keh-neep. Maybe some ancient Korean farmer engineered the nettle-less variety that my mother still grows from seed every year. Who knows, but I do need the local stinging kind to combat my seasonal allergies, and now is the time to harvest young nettles. This summer I'll have to try Keh-neep pesto as well. I love that fresh nettle nutty flavor, I love pesto, I hate allergies. It's a win, win, win. Thinking of using this recipe. I'll report here how it goes.