Projectland

Celebrating spring with friends.

 

 

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December 2011 part 2

When Sophia and I returned from NYC, we got back to our routines with a few special events thrown in for excitement. On December 13, we went to see one of our favorite bands: WILCO at the Riviera in Chicago. Here's a late night picture of Chief Rail and I up WAY past our bedtimes!

 

We were treated to some acting in the neighborhood Christmas pageant at the Church. Our two were so proud of being part of the show.

 

 

Lots of excitement on Christmas morning!

chocolate, tea, oranges, books, a green dinosaur, soap, sunlight, the smell of pine needles...

on the day after Christmas, we took a lovely wintry walk in the woods with friends at the North Park Village Nature Center.

We flew to Maine shortly after Christmas for a family visit, and while there, took a two day side trip to Sunday River  for some downhill skiing. The girls both took to it right away and by the end of the day were skiing down the longer runs.

 

 

 

Then it was time to have the last coffee of 2011 in the Christmas tree mugs and head back to Chicago and start January 2012.

December 2011 (part I)

Hello again!

I'm going to back track a little and post some pics from December. The highlight being a trip to NYC. Again with the NYC, I know, its like a love affair I am having with that city. Every chance I can, I try to find an excuse to go. This most recent excuse was to chaperone my oldest on her turn to have a weekend with her grandparents to see the "Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular" show. What?! She couldn't fly alone! Check out that leopard hat, they were all the rage. All the street vendors had piles of them alongside the knock-off LV bags and Chinese cashmere scarves. Just for the record, I happen to love the street vendor carts in NYC. I find it incredible that they exist and stay in business.

So to encapsulate our trip:

We had the bestest, mostest, bestest time ever!

The holiday windows there were amazing, and the

 Bergdorf Goodman windows were especially inspiring and so magical. There was taxidermy, and lots of it. Be still my heart and imagination.

 

We took a visit to the New York Historical Society and Museum where S learned about 911. She was understandably shocked about what had happened and fearful for our plane trip home. My friend Bonnie says, "no disasters before 3rd grade" because kids can't process a disaster and feel powerless to help. But what about the kids who lived through it? And what about kids who live through traumas before they turn 9? In this case, it was unavoidable that we would see the photos of the twin towers since they were in the front lobby along with a with a badly scraped fire engine door. I felt that the important thing to do was discuss it with her honestly. Her curiosity is so innocent. She was so moved by the photos of the "missing" papers posted around the site. Especially the one about a child missing his father. It is a painful thing to read about no matter what age you are.

To get us out of our sadness, we walked one block north to the Museum of Natural History. And got to see some spectacular dinosaur skeletons.

We also went to the kids museum in the basement of the MNH which is compact, well done and does not look tired the way you would expect a museum with millions of visitors should look.

Before we left my beloved city, we went to see Wicked as promised to a certain someone (and my Mom). They both loved it as much as I do. We belt the songs out in the car on our way to and from school. Little sister doesn't get it, but she will. When its her turn to go to NYC for a weekend with her grandparents, I've got four words for her; "you need a chaperone".

 

One short day in the Emerald City

NYC

 

Fish tacos

I love fall. It's my favorite time of year, no joke. But, when fall arrives, I start thinking about winter, and when winter arrives I start wishing for an escape hatch to somewhere warm with big green leaves and bright colorful flowers. My parents have generously solved my cold weather blues by treating us to a big family gathering in Sanibel Island, Florida at Beachview Cottages . Our kids have been going there since they were born and think that my parents live there. In reality, we usually spend about a week, most of it outside, which makes my happiness meter go way up.

Last year we decided to do a little exploring and took a drive over to Pine Island. On the way there, we drove through the town of Matlacha and found The Olde Fish House Marina sea food market and restaurant. We really enjoyed talking with the owners and totally dug their back porch dining area overlooking a marina. That day we bought some big gulf shrimp to put on the BBQ, but the reason for this post is so that I can share my fish taco recipe!

If I had to narrow it down to my top 5 foods, fish tacos are in the running for first place. Before I knew any better, I ate them with flour tortillas, but then one day, I had a fish taco made with a corn tortilla and the heavens opened up to the glory that is the combination of corn, fish, lime, cabbage and hot sauce.

For the past few years I have been making fish tacos one night on the annual Sanibel vacation.  My Dad grills the fish that we caught that day on the little grill overlooking the beach. Then we sit down to dinner at a long table, watch the kids play and run in the sand while we eat tacos and drink beer and marvel at how fortunate we are to be there at that moment. Well at least I do. It just seems so right to be sitting next to the place where the food I am eating came from, and with people I love.

So without any more waxing, here she be:

 

 

Super delicious Fish Tacos

4-6 servings

 

Ingredients

• 1 pounds mahi mahi (skinned, boned and cleaned). You can use a variety of fish, but mahi-mahi is the classic fish to use. In Sanibel we use the sea trout we catch in Tarpon Bay.
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 2 tablespoons water
• 2 cups panko bread crumbs
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• Vegetable oil, for frying (I like to use a wok for deep frying, or you can use a deep fat fryer if you have one)
• 1/2 head savoy cabbage, finely shredded (I use pre-packaged cole slaw mix)
• 1 bunch cilantro, leaves picked
• 3 limes, cut into wedges for garnish
• bottle of green or red Mexican hot sauce ( I like the brand “El Yucateco”)
• corn tortillas

Pink Mayonnaise:

• ¼  cup sour cream
• ¼  cup mayonnaise
• ¼ cup catsup

Guacamole with Tomatillo salsa

• 2 avocados
• 6 tomatillos, husks removed and tomatillos washed
• 1 fresh serrano or jalapeno chile pepper
• 3 garlic cloves still in their husks
• ½ t. salt
• 1 T. chopped cilantro
• juice of one lime

Tomato Salsa

• I just buy a good one from the store and add fresh tiny cubed fruit like mango or peach to give it a tropical and sweet taste which is good with the fish.

 

 

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350. Roast the whole tomatillos, whole chile and garlic cloves still in their husks for 20 minutes. Turn the Tomatillos ½ way through so they get brown on all sides. Take pan out and let cool for a few minutes. Squish the garlic cloves from their husks into a blender, add the roasted tomatillos, chile and any juices that have accumulated into the pan. Add about ½ C. water to the blender, or just enough to make the tomatillo salsa smooth. Mash avocado with a fork, add ½ C. of the tomatillo salsa, cilantro, lime juice, salt and pepper and mix gently so that the guacamole is still chunky.

Prepare the pink mayonnaise by mixing the three ingredients together. Season with salt and pepper and refrigerate until ready to use.

Prepare the fish.

If deep frying: Cut the pieces of fish into 1-ounce strips. Set up a breading station of flour, lightly beaten eggs with water, and seasoned panko bread crumbs. Season all with salt and pepper. Dredge the pieces of fish in flour, egg then bread crumbs. Once all the fish is breaded deep-fry in small batches in (375 degrees F) oil. Drain on paper towels and season with salt. Keep warm in a 175-200 degree oven until ready to serve.

If grilling: season the filets with a paste made with minced garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Let marinate for 15 min. Grill fish on a hot grill 2 min per side.

To serve, set up the tacos "family-style". Assemble the fish in a pile on a plate; put the pink mayonnaise, tomato salsa, and guacamole in separate bowls. Set a pile of shredded cabbage, cilantro leaves and lime wedges next to the fish. Set out a couple of bottles of Mexican hot sauce. I like the green habanero one, but the red habanero is good too. Heat the tortillas wrapped in a dishtowel in the microwave for about 1 minute (might need one minute more, depending on the microwave). Or grill the tortillas, flipping them with tongs until they are hot and dark brown in spots.

To assemble: Lay tortilla down, put a stripe of pink sauce down the middle, add cabbage, 2-3 pieces of fish, guacamole, tomato salsa, a squeeze of lime on top, add cilantro and hot sauce, fold in half and eat.

Serve with rice, beans, and beer!

 

How to make raspberry jam in four easy steps.

Step 1:

On a beautiful late summer day, pick raspberries with friends. We went to Royal Oak Farm Orchard in Harvard, IL. Not because we want to eat HIS raspberries, but because they use IPM and don't spray their fruit with chemicals. (On the other hand, maybe they are being blessed by the holy triad: the fruit is especially delicious.)

Note: Be sure to eat just as many as you put into your pint container! This is important.

step 2:

Stand back and admire your picking ability.  Take a picture.

Step 3:

Bring said berries home (4 pints total=8 C.), put them in a pot on the stove over medium heat. Smash berries with a potato masher. For sure kids can help here!! Add 6 C. of sugar, and a granular package of Sure Jell pectin. Stir well. Bring to a boil, stirring all the while. Boil for one minute. Ladle jam (that's right folks, you just made jam!!) into clean, sterilized jars.  Recipe makes about 8 or 9 cups of jam. Cap with sterilized caps and rings. Process sealed jars in a hot water bath for 10 minutes. Let cool.

Step 4:

Once again, stand back and admire your "work". Then DIG IN!!

What I did on my summer vacation, in pictures.

Went to York Harbor beach. a lot...

...kids took riding lessons at a farm with ducks, chickens, goats, cats, and of course, HORSES!...

...took a french cooking class with my Mom at Stonewall Kitchen...

...cooked out on Western Point. Where there was driftwood, crashing surf, poison ivy, teenagers and oldsters, beer, wine, hot dogs, hamburgers and a tastiest of all, a striped bass, caught that day...

...got to spend time with relatives...

...watched the annual fireman's parade...

where firemen can win one of these TOTALLY COOL trophies for assembling a fire-hose or climbing a ladder in record time.

...made a birthday cheesecake for my brother's 40th birthday...

...celebrated our 20th anniversary by sailing on the Windjammer Angelique for 4 days in Penobscot bay...

those are the vents for the cabins, it was cozy on that ship!

...we were treated to a lobster bake on Calderwood Island....

...on our way home, we bought local blueberries in Wiscasset...

...celebrated a friend's 70th birthday...

...and ended a super vacation after 19 hours on the road and just escaping the road washouts of Hurricane Irene, at one of our favorite brew-pubs: Three Floyds in Munster, IN. 

Lobsters in the not so rough

Dinner on a gorgeous summer night at Chauncy Creek Lobster Pier 

 

 

 

 

 

 

York Harbor, Maine: Summers past, present and future.

 
 
I have been coming to this corner of southern Maine every summer for 45 years. Our kids are visiting their grandparents just as I used to do. We stay in the same house I did when I was a kid, sleep in the same beds, sleep in the same sheets, under the same blankets, although now the sheets are washed here in a washing machine. When I was little, all the laundry used to go out to a laundry service in town. The sheets came back pressed and folded into tidy, tight squares that were a marvel to me.  My grandmothers initials in fancy script are still on the now-frayed towels in the linen closet that smells of dove soap and has a pull string up to the light socket in the center of the tiny painted ceiling.  Not much has changed here. The same rocks, houses, bridges, boat moorings, docks, and even most of the trees are all still in the same places where they have stood for my lifetime. Its humbling. The immovable objects in particular make me think about how quickly my life is moving along. Watching my kid's excitement in arriving here,  I feel that I'm re-living my own childhood.

How much joy I felt in arriving here each summer, anticipating time with my grandparents, playing at harbor beach, taking bracing swims in the ocean, seeing cousins and summer friends, the always present smell of seaweed and fish in the air. York, Maine was settled in the 1630's and is one of the oldest towns in Maine. There is a historical village and interpretive center in the middle of town for visitors to learn about the long, often tragic history of what life was like back then. Early on there was a violent raid by Abenaki Indians which nearly wiped out the town, but the stubborn-as-barnicles will of the English and Scottish settlers stuck it out here and lived to write York's history. Descendants from the early settlers still live, fish and farm here.

In the early 1700's it was a busy working port.  York fell on hard times around the time of the revolution, and then in the 1870's it was "found" by hoteliers. They built hotels that catered to members of the wealthy class from big metropolitian areas to the south and midwest.  People from New York, Boston, Chicago,  Philadelphia and other cities would come to summer resort towns like Bar Harbor and York Harbor where they could have the same niceties and services they were accustomed to back home. York Harbor was a breezy, cooling, healthy escape from hot summers in the cities. They often vacationed with other members of their social set. There were lots of parties to go to, people dressed up to go out for dinner and dancing, in all there was lots of "seeing and being seen".

My Grandfather's mother, Mary and father, Charles John came on the train from Providence, RI for summer vacation each year. They stayed in a cottage that was owned by Harmon Hall, one of three resort hotels.  The cottage had no kitchen, so they took their meals at the hotel's communal dining hall. After a few years, they liked it here so well, my great grandmother had a summer house built where she and her son, my grandfather, Charles Richard would come each summer. My grandfather loved this place alot. He was a staunch republican who believed in land preservation way before land trusts were established. He donated land to the town, and was always up on local politics and on keeping York's history factual. Sometimes an article would be written incorrectly in the York Weekly, and he would quickly pen a letter to the editor to set the record straight.  I got to spend a few summers here as his companion after he became lame and needed assistance to get in and out of his car or a chair. We used to go out to lunch every day and he would tell me stories about his life or just plain funny stories. He had a gift for storytelling.

After my grandfather married, he and my grandmother would bring their two sons, Charles and Christopher up each summer to stay in that house too, then in 1967, my grandfather and grandmother sold the house and bought another one down the lane, one overlooking the harbor.  This is the house I have spent a part of every summer in. My parents inherited the house when my grandparents died, and retired here. Built in 1760, this house belonged to a sea captain named Clark who had married Olive Grow (it was her family's house originally). It was added on to at least twice, and had a few other owners, some who passed away here, making for good ghost stories. A house-guest woke up one night and said she saw a ghost sitting in the chair in the room who told her "don't be afraid".

Laying in bed this morning, I hear the same sounds I hear every year; seagulls' impatient calls, songbirds singing to each other, and a lobster man starting up a grumbly boat motor, like an old man clearing his throat. Like the birds, lobster men call to each other on their radios, asking about weather and water conditions outside the harbor. Over the years, when I would hear them, I'd sometimes get up and look out the window to see who was talking, but all I could see was fog. Lobstermen know their own harbor and her moored occupants like the back of their hands, so navigating in thick fog is easy but I wonder if they know that people on shore can hear their every word!

 

Coming to York Harbor from the midwest was like stepping into another world. Everything was different. The smells, the people, the parties, the clothes, the slang, I was an outsider. When I became a teenager, those differences became more pronounced. But, funny thing is, now that I am an adult, I feel less like an outsider. It must be a combination of age, and familiarity, and because it's my parents home and not my grandparents home, its more comfortable. I don't think my kids feel like outsiders. My parents try hard to relate to their grand-kids and our lives in general are a lot less formal than they were back when my grandparents and their parents lived here.

I remember my grandmother, Elise coming down the stairs to go out at night wearing a Lily Pulitzer dress, a cloud of "Joy" perfume trailing behind her. Before I was born, she had owned a dress shop named "Chez Elise" in Providence, RI and had very definite ideas on style. She used to always look fantastic to me. She had her hair done in town at least two times a week at "Tone and Glow", and would wear a hair net in between visits to keep her hair in top shape. She always had a smart basket shaped purse to carry her necessities in. Pressed powder in a compact with a mirror and a puff for application, bright pink lipstick in a little gold sheath, a handkerchief, her reading glasses and although she would not need it, because I imagine my grandfather paid for their nights out, her wallet. Her patent leather low heeled shoes would click down the painted stairs, she would kiss us goodnight and out she and my grandfather would go. Often my parents would go out with them, and we would have a teenage babysitter. If the weather was good we'd play flashlight tag until we were exhausted, tumble into bed and then get up and hopefully have another day just the same as the last. 

On rainy days, we would lounge around at our house or at my friend Tenny's house across the lane reading comics like Archie and Veronica, Batman and Richie Rich, which we had bought at Ursula's general store for .25 an issue. It was a treat to go to Ursulas, open the screen door, bang, hear it slam and plunk down a new comic book and a quarter on the counter. The first time I ever had a hostess pie, it was from Ursulas. I was very curious about them, but my Mom wouldn't buy them so one day when I had money, I bought one. I remember loving the wrapper and the graphics, but being disappointed that it didn't taste better! It was a sad day when her store closed. The building was made into condos. The story has a happy ending though. Ursula ended up opening a gourmet food store where you could find lots of tinned european imports, good bread, meat, cheese, pastries, chocolates and wine. 

My room was on the third floor. Back then, the things I loved most about my room were the sink in the corner and the brass bed with creaky springs and a mattress I literally sank into. Above all, I loved the wallpaper. Its still there, but it has water damage in places, and in some corners it is peeling off the wall. I have begged my Mom and Dad not to take it down, and luckily for me, they haven't. (Did I mention that I have really thoughtful, caring parents?!) Now that I am married and have my own kids, I sleep in a room down the hall from my old hideaway. It too has beautiful,  vintage wallpaper. My eldest has been hankering to sleep in my old room. The sink in the corner is gone, but the eaves are still there, with the same bed, the same mattress, and the same pretty wallpaper.  
 

 Now a bit about the food. My grandparents had a cook. Her name was Henni and she had come from Finland to work in America as a young woman. She was married to a Finnish man named Walter. She called him "the Walter" which used to crack me up. Henni was always smiling, and she always had an apron on, except for the few times she and the Walter went to the beach when she would wear a matronly swimsuit and a bathing cap with big rubber flowers all over it.  We never tired of Henni's food. Especially her pancakes which were about 2" in diameter and paper thin. A stack of 20 was only about 2" high.  Here is her recipe. I have to warn you that they do require a lot of butter! They are best enjoyed right off the pan, but you can freeze the pancake stacks, and then re-heat them wrapped in tinfoil in a 200 degree oven for about 20 minutes.

Henni's Finnish Pancakes

3 eggs

1 C. Flour

3T. sugar

pinch salt

1 C. heavy cream

2 C. milk

Using a whisk, blend all the ingredients together until smooth. Let the batter stand for a few hours before making the pancakes.

Generously butter the pan, and only use a tiny bit of batter to make each pancake. They cook quickly. Each pancake should have a crispy, butter browned, lacy edge, so keep the butter coming...

 It was Henni who introduced me to lobster. She used to make a lobster appetizer to serve at the cocktail parties my grandparents would host on the porch overlooking the harbor. The appetizer was just boiled lobster, broken into pieces with toothpicks stuck in each one served with a dip of  mayonnaise, horseradish and ketchup. I remember thinking how stange and foreign that platter of pink morsels was, until I had some and was smitten. I have enjoyed eating lobster here my whole life, although lately the only way I really find it appetizing is when it's in a salad, in an omelet or in a roll. Even though they are grotesque looking creatures, they sure are buttery and delicious. (Especially when eaten outside in the summer overlooking where they came from!)

Henni isn't alive anymore, but I know she would have enjoyed the way America has embraced the local, gourmet, organic and ethnic food trends in the past 10 years. It's probably what she grew up knowing as normal in Finland.

I still love to eat the classics while I am in Maine. Lobster rolls, steamers, fish chowder, mussels, and all the fresh local summer fruits and vegetables.  As the country wide interest in food has intensified, I've seen and tried many new dishes on menus here that I didn't see growing up, like Finnan haddie, local crab cakes, oysters, skate wing and succotash. It's interesting that chefs are reaching back into history to find traditional New England pioneer and native inspired recipes. I love it, it brings the past to the present in a really tangible way.

As much as trends and people change, some things here are enduring, constant and in that way comforting. The ocean, the tide rising and falling, fishing, swimming, boating, eating, reading on the porch, going for walks, crabbing, exploring tide-pools, birdwatching etc...  This place is special to me because it is a constant in my life, and always has been a place of happiness. Our family moved around growing up, but we always returned to this house in the summers. My parents are active with The York Land Trust working to make sure that future generations enjoy themselves and this place without the shoreline becoming trampled and overbuilt. I am fortunate. I know that. I appreciate what people before me built, the land they set aside, and the buildings they preserved. My children love this place and look forward to coming here each summer the way I did. It is special here.

Wind power

 
When we went for a walk in the Kishwauketoe nature preserve last week, it was hot, but beautiful. We walked through fields of native flowering plants like echinacea, asclepias, cup plant, and rudbeckia. There were lots of tiger and black swallowtail butterflies, grasshoppers, crickets, cicadas and mosquitoes to keep us amused and annoyed.  We turned a corner on the trail and were met with the above scene that looked to me like a post apocalyptic landscape. In reality, it was the result of a microburst the night before.

The bark on the cottonwood trees was rough, and though they tried, the two littlest kids couldn't make it over the trunks. Patti and I crossed the small creek just to the right in this photo with the two pipsqueaks and scrambled up the opposite bank.  The 5 older kids had a great time climbing over and under trunks that were off the ground by twice their height. It was better than a playground for sure.

Does it seem to you, gentle reader, that both summer and winter storms are becoming more destructive in the past year or so?